It's sad that...

Watching every episode of Sex and the City is making me feel that this blog will no longer be original anymore. The only way this can be original is if I write about my personal experiences, but I'm so vague with them on this here blog that I try to put it in a "don't you ever feel this way?"-context. For obvious reasons, I don't plan on being super-personal unless certain readers really do have my word for it to confirm the real motive for me writing such an entry.

I'll tell you why Sex and the City is such a good show: it makes its viewers laugh, empathize and think, all in the same time frame. For me, I watch it for the laughs, because the thought-provoking elements of the show just taunt me with their "I beat you to the punch, you'll never be more poignant than me" messages. I'll just opt out of this race and blow a raspberry before I myself fall into Carrie Bradshaw's trap of seeing a guy as an asshole just because he really cannot see eye to eye with a woman.

So I finished watching season 2 all over again, and I love and hate being hooked. I don't think Carrie Bradshaw is absolutely brilliant, because her wit is the wit of Candace Bushnell, accrued over months of thinking about how four random women who happen to be close friends would go about in New York. I'm just jealous right now, sorry.

Thought for this entry: There's so many to choose from. Is it possible to be friends with an ex? When is enough definitely enough? Is dating limited to just playing games with each other? What is it that I'm thinking right now about all of this? That maybe I could just turn away and start convincing myself that celibacy and nunhood should be a serious alternative. Or maybe I'm too young to even care.

Okay, here's my real moment of honesty: I really want to believe that guys don't matter. But that's not true. They are people I can befriend, yet I feel more concerned with choosing and keeping the close ones I have now. And maybe my first statement is a half-truth, because some mistakes with a guy shouldn't stop me from just saying hi to certain others out of fear of being Binibining Tsismis. I already have a handful of lessons to learn with the friends I already have; I have to learn how to forgive myself more easily, really take risks with the ones I consider close, and to embrace intimacy when that is what friends are there for. Does it sound like I need a man to broaden my horizons and learn my life lessons from? No, plus attraction is much too volatile, like possesing a flask of vodka in the classroom of life.