Carrie Bradshaw ruined everything. She ruined cosmopolitans, New York City, and Saturday night with your girlfriends. She ruined brunch and fashion. She ruined high heeled shoes and careers in journalism. She ruined casual sex, she ruined committed sex, she ruined every pun known to man. She ruined newspaper and magazines. She ruined the experience of ever dating a banker, a carpenter, a bartender, a painter, a addict, a writer, a lawyer, a actor, a musician, a doctor, a politician and a man. Carrie Bradshaw ruined fun.
I know this is not a real person.
I also know that somehow this show seeped into our brains, our hearts, our very landscape. I believe that even the water and the soil were not spared. Nothing we can ever do has novelty left. She has already done it.
Do you know how many times a day a thought like the following occurs to me? :
"Is it true that men are really looking for carbon copies of their mother? Could we be suffering from a epidemic of Copy-Me-Mommies?"
Or some lazy shit thought like that. Then, I think: Fuck Me. That sounds like her. Again. There is no escape.
The show has been dead for almost four years. But, it plays on and on. An endless reel of witticisms, criticisms and name-plate necklaces play out behind our experience, coloring every thing we see.
Cavemen used to sit around the fire and tell each other stories. Who was the bravest hunter? Who ran from the gazelle and found water in the ground? They acted it out again and again until the tales became truth, until everyone knew how to kill, how to drink or how run away. They informed, they entertained, they re-lived the stories of their lives to bring each other together.
So what is this pink sequined monstrosity telling us?
Being part of this particular (mostly urban, white, educated) tribe is no comfort to me. I have to think that my experiences "looking for love" (what a phrase!) is and will be as idiosyncratic and weird and unexpected as love itself. People are too strange to have it otherwise.
On that note, I'm have to have a cosmopolitan.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
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