Sex and the City

It's almost cliche how much that fabulous show and now movie have become an icon to represent young women's dating lives. It's a guilty pleasure of mine, but I'm not so sure why I feel guilty.

A poignant quote from tonight's rerun on the CW:
"Saying I love you is easy. What comes next is a little scrunchier."

My immediate thoughts afterwards:

• ew! Scrunchies!
• Aw, so true.
• Man, I love my boyfriend.
• I can't believe that I have a boyfriend.
• I want to see that movie again.
  
• I want to blog more about SATC.
• I miss New York.
  
• ew! Scrunchies!
  

A bumpersticker I saw today said

"Smile. It's the second-best thing you can do with your lips."

I smiled (it convinced me I guess), and giggled (out loud, then looked around with concern that anyone walking around in the parking lot who probably thought I was crazy), and then my thoughts automatically turned to what would be the first best thing to do with your lips.

Kissing came to my mind obviously. Then slightly dirtier things (hey, I'm just glad those thoughts didn't come first).

Of course I would think about the dating things you do with your mouth. But what about eating, talking (okay I guess you do this while dating too), singing, or making funny faces or something?

What is the best thing to do with your lips?

Boys as Roommates

Doesn't seem like such a bad idea. In fact, I think it has worked really well. I have two. Boy roommates that is. They are both very neat and clean, and actually living with boys makes me feel safer in this big, bad new city! One is almost always at his girlfriend's, so I rarely see him. The other is very quirky, friendly, nice, cool, chatty, and, I have come to learn, a creepy womanizer.

He spoke of a girlfriend when I was visiting to sign the sublease, though it seems this was not quite true. The other night he said he was going to have a friend over, and I was totally fine with it (after all, I had a fabulous friend visit me this weekend!) . I decided to go to bed early, but I am genuinely a heavy and low maintenance sleeper, so I told him not to worry about being quiet.

Maybe I should have been more specific.

I heard the friend come in, and them chatting and stuff, but then I fell asleep. I woke up a bit later to some moans and groans. I thought I was having an awkward dream. His music was turned up loud but she was louder.

The next morning - feeling awkward of course - he asked me if he had been too loud last night. I wanted to avoid an even more awkward conversation, so I just feigned sleeping through the whole night. But he continued, bordering on the ickiness, "really? Because I know this girl's a loudmouth! She's originally from Israel but she grew up on Long Island." Ha...ha...ha...oh those crazy Long Island girls?

So later we were having a general conversation about dating and creepy guy calling me four times in one day...and then two times two days later...and leaving a really long creepy voicemail two days after that.

"Yeah, I'm dating this nice French girl right now, but I'm not going to like, you know, show up at her job. She works at a woman's clothing store! It'd be so obvious that I wasn't there to shop! I don't want to be pushy," he said.

Hmm, well he's doing a good job not being pushy while he's pushing into someone else. Poor French girl!

Good thing he's too short and too old for me. Great roommate, horrible dater.

Why my life is the exact opposite of Pink's "U+Ur Hand"

It's a catchy song. I even know a dance to it. You can find me attempting to belt the lyrics, but only in the privacy of my car with the volume knob cranked to the right.

On the other hand, it is awfully crass, and I generally don't approve of the use of "u" in place of "you," even when it saves space in a text. Plus, Pink is being awfully harsh to these boys! Other reasons why my life is the complete opposite of "U+Ur Hand:"

Check it out
Going out
On the late night
Looking tight
Feeling nice
It's a **** fight
I can tell
I just know
That it's going down
Tonight
At the door we don't wait cause we know them
At the bar six shots just beginning
That's when dick head put his hands on me
But you see

• Umm...we don't know them. Last time my girlfriends and I went into DC, we totally lucked out because we got valet parked right in front of the building and although it was raining, we got a spot in line underneath the awning. One of the bouncers asked us, "Are you on the guest list?" Uhh..no. How do you get on the guest list you ask? You sign up online. Fabulous. We really must do our sophisticated research.
• Six shots? Really, Pink, isn't that a little much? Anyway, I'm the last of my friends to turn 21.
  

Midnight
I'm drunk
I don't give a ***k
Wanna dance
By myself
Guess you're outta luck
Don't touch
Back up
I'm not the one
Buh bye
Listen up it's just not happening
You can say what you want to your boyfriends
Just let me have my fun tonight
Aiight

• Please see age requirements, above.
• I do not mind for one second dancing by myself. In fact, I can be a lot more creative and have a lot more fun. But, Pink, if you really want to dance by yourself and only yourself, do it in your bedroom. I'm sure you have a fabulously-sized one with your own personal ballet barre and wall mirrors.

I'm not here for your entertainment
You don't really want to mess with me tonight
Just stop and take a second
I was fine before you walked into my life
Cause you know it's over
Before it began
Keep your drink just give me the money
It's just you and your hand tonight

• I enjoy entertaining. Is this a bad thing?
• I would not be able to fight anyone or anything. In the middle of my high school graduation season, I got a call from a Marine recruiter. Instead of being ruthless and saying "not interested!" and hanging up as quickly as possible, I had an actual conversation with the guy. I admitted to him that even if somone gave me a gun and told me "you have to shoot this humanoid alien, or else he will kill you," I still don't think I could pull the trigger. It's hard enough for me to pick up a weapon even in a video game! Back in elementary school (I don't know how I remember this!) I had a dream that one of the guys in my class was being mean to me or something. I couldn't push him away. Luckily, my best friend at the time came over and kicked him in the balls for me. But seriously, how lame is that, that I couldn't even hurt a meanie in a dream?
• I may have been fine before you walked into my life, but who said it can't get better? Or be filled with more fun?
• And...that's just awkward. Sorry boys.

Sorry Pink? Does this make me a push-over? Or whatever the opposite of a feminist is? Ah well. I like boys. Just non-creepy clubbing ones, if you please.