Tag Archives: Sex and the City

The ability to believe

30 Sep

Well, buddies, the ‘Sex and the City’ gorging continues.

Tonight I watched an episode where Charlotte and Carrie attend a seminar about finding love. It’s about positive affirmations, and putting yourself out there. Because if you hope for love, you will find it. If you believe that you deserve it, you will find it.

Charlotte asks how long she needs to do this for. She says she’s been doing positive affirmations, and putting herself “out there”. But it’s not working.

She says she did find love. That she had a wonderful wedding. And then everything fell apart. And she is, “afraid that he took away my ability to believe.”

That’s how I feel.

I didn’t have the wedding. But I did find love. I loved my ex so much. Truthfully, a large part of me still does.

Lately I feel that there isn’t anybody for me. I know I’m an amazing girlfriend. I know I would be a wonderful wife, and a wonderful mummy. But I just don’t think it’s going to happen.

How can I believe that love is out there, when the only time I’ve experienced it, it was fake?

How can I believe it when he took it away?

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A different take on the same old problem

28 Sep

sex_and_the_city_007

Sometimes I feel so lonely I could die.

I’ve had a run of weekends recently when none of my friends were about. This is perhaps the fourth weekend in a row that I’ve spent swimming, going to yoga, and watching TV. This weekend I decided to start watching ‘Sex and the City’ from the beginning. There is no better therapy. So much of it rings so true. And it makes me feel OK to admit certain things to myself. Like the loneliness. The fear of dying alone. The resentment of smug couples and yummy mummies.

It hit me somewhere between Season 1 and Season 2 that – although I want to meet someone – what I’m really missing right now is, well, more friends. I don’t want to paint myself as a total loser. I do have friends. But a combination of factors means most of them don’t live in London. Or, don’t live in London anymore. Work is super sociable. During the week I’m surrounded by colleagues who I genuinely consider to be friends. But the weekends. Ugh. There’s nobody, unless I jump on a train to Scotland¬†(which I’ve been doing more and more of this past year).

So maybe what I want isn’t necessarily a boyfriend.

I watch ‘Sex and the City’ and I’m so envious of that group of women with each other to turn to. That’s another thing – most of my friends in London are men. They’re fun. They’re great company. But it’s not the same as having a group of girlfriends.

So what do I do?

There’s no way I’m ever moving back to Scotland. But maybe I need to hit “Restart” on my social life.

I have tried this past year. I started yoga to try and meet new people. I didn’t meet anyone, but I discovered I love yoga. Maybe language classes would be more sociable? So I started Italian, but three classes in I couldn’t keep up with the homework and had to forget it.

If only there was a Tinder for making new friends. I have no idea how at the age of 32, settled with a flat and a career and ready-made life I go about creating a new social circle. Any ideas?

Because more and more I’m feeling like I need to prioritise. And as much as I want someone to go through life with, and marriage, and kids, and happily ever after, I also want someone to call after I’ve been on dates, and talk to before them, and visit Topshop with, and bitch about work over coffee, and eat pizza and watch DVDs.

I actually have a date this afternoon. I almost forgot.

Nine good things about being single in your thirties

17 May

marquee number - 9

So, I’m on my way home from Florida. Which is sad news. But I’m sipping a Bloody Mary in the business class lounge. Which is good news.

In the past nine months, since finding myself single, I’ve tried very hard to find some positives in being all alone in my thirties. It hasn’t been easy. But since it’s nine months since the pizza of doom and all, I’ve made a little list of nine good things about being single when everyone around you is married and producing children.

Here we go:

1. Flying business class. Why not treat yourself? You have nobody else to pay for. Let me tell you, skipping all those lines for check in and security, swanning through to the lounge and pouring yourself a drink… it’s nice. Really nice.

2. Flowers. Buying yourself flowers means that you always get the ones you want. In May, that means peonies. In fact, buying yourself flowers means that you always get flowers. I don’t care what kind of flowers. I like having them.

3. Tinder. This is new to me, but hilarious and thrilling all at once. I’ve been playing while in Florida. I can’t meet any of the guys, but it’s still fun. And what an ego boost.

4. Garlic. Eat as much as you like. Nobody cares.

5. Sex And The City takes on a new level of relevance. I’m going to watch the whole thing again when I get home. Now I actually understand.

6. If you want to eat nothing but olives for dinner, you totally can. Same is true of Maltesers. There’s nobody to tell you to eat like an adult, or watch your sugar intake.

7. You join some pretty great company of other hot to women who have been single in their thirties. “Who on earth?” I hear you ask. Well, Cameron Diaz, Jennifer Anniston, Sandra Bullock.

8. Let’s be frank. While in the summer months you do need to shave your legs, there are other body parts that you can pretty much disregard from the grooming routine for a while. Some of the trickiest of body parts, in fact. Some of the most painful to take care of.

9. You can plan your next holiday as soon as you’re done with the one you’re on. Or even before. I’m so ready to come back to Florida in a few months, and there’s nobody to get in the way of my plans or that sunshine.

Now, you all know as well as I do that all I want is someone to love. Someone to love me. And yes, of course, a cuddle can be worth a lot more than a Sex And The City marathon, while eating garlic olives for dinner, on a business class flight, to go on holiday, not having touched my bikini line for weeks, safe in the knowledge that I am just like Cameron fricking Diaz (although I can’t confirm her bikini line routine), and there are beautiful peonies sitting on my window ledge at home. But I gotta find some reasons to smile. It’s not a bad start.

Am I Carrie Bradshaw?

11 May

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At university I lived with my three best friends. There was a couple of months at the start of fourth year when due to technical difficulties we had no television. Imagine. Instead, we hooked up an old VCR in the kitchen and worked our way through my Sex And The City videos.

Naturally, “Which character are you?” became a big topic of conversation. Which is silly. Because, whether we liked it or not, we were all Charlotte.

But I wanted to be Carrie. I’m short. I liked writing. I loved clothes. Carrie, right?

Which goes some way to explaining how little I knew about life when I was 21. I had no concept of what the show was really about, and no real empathy or understanding for the situations these women found themselves in.

Now I do.

And Carrie can be such an asshole. So selfish. So deluded. But who can blame her? She’s lonely as f***. No amount of Manolos is going to change that.

At 32, I kind of get this show in a way that I couldn’t ten years ago. And instead of proudly declaring, “I’m Carrie!” I have to kind of cringe and wonder, “Am I Carrie?”. Although I would never cheat on Aidan. Never.

Yesterday there was a Sex And The City marathon on E! which I found myself glued to. The episode of Carrie’s book launch was on. A book launch! I can’t think of anything better than writing a book and actually having it published and PRd up to the eyeballs.

But even in that moment of glory, Carrie isn’t happy. In fact, she tells Charlotte, “I’m lonely. The loneliness is palpable.” while surrounded by people there to celebrate her and her success.

Which goes to show, life means less without someone to share it with.

But then I guess if Carrie and Big had got together in the pilot when she had that awful brown here (I’m brunette and proud, but it did nothing for SJP), there would have been no twists in the road. No Aidan. No Burger. No horrible Russian artist weirdo. No story to tell.

And, like all writers, I do love a good story.

Movie therapy thanks to ‘Sex And The City’

2 Nov

Say what you want about ‘Sex And The City’. I love it. (With the exception of the second movie, clearly).

I’m watching the first movie tonight. Oh, sure, I’ve seen it ten or twelve or twenty times, but I still enjoy it. In fact, it feels kind of therapeutic. All the scenes with Carrie suffering heartbreak in Mexico. Call me a sadist, but those are my favourite bits right now.

Maybe the product placement is out of control. And maybe Sarah Jessica Parker does look a bit like a horse. But too much of this movie rings too true for me not to hold it in a warm place in my heart.

‘Til the end that is.

I mean, the whole shoe proposal scene is cute, but I think we all know sh** doesn’t pan out like that in real life.

Cheerful autumn thoughts

28 Oct

Hmmmmm.

My blog has been a little morose of late. I can imagine you are all tired of hearing me whine. I’m worse than Carrie Bradshaw at her most self-centred (when she cheats on Aidan).

So here’s some good stuff I want to share:

1. The storm that is about to “devastate” London (weather people are so dramatic. I think it’s an inferiority thing from working alongside journos who are reporting on politics and world events and crime, while they are reporting on clouds and stuff) has the same name as my sister. Jude.

2. The leaves that have all been shaken from the trees are very pretty.

3. I’m working in a coffee shop today with my fellow Creative Director. Team planning, business planning, etc etc. it’s easier to do this stuff than come up with amazing creative ideas when your brain is determined to be sad and focused on your ex. Coffee is delicious.

There we go. Just some ramblings. Just because.

Jude’s on the way…