Three-year old journal entry, found over at my Friendster blog. I wish I’d seen this (or remembered that I wrote it, for that matter) when the Sex and the City movie came out. Anyway, I’m reposting. Just because. It can be so much fun going over all journals!
Why I (a 25-year-old-single-since-birth manang) like Sex and the City
Quite a mystery, actually. Maybe it’s because my life couldn’t be more different from the lives of those girls, and I want to see what it’s like. It’s very difficult for me to live that kind of life. Let’s see just how different, shall we?
In the first place, quite obviously, is that they have way too much sex. Miranda goes to a weight watchers’ club and takes home a guy as part of the weight loss regimen? Come on! But then it is a show about sex, after all; they’ve got to have someone or other getting some action at least every other episode or so. My problem with this, I guess, is that they make it seem like it’s very easy to meet and hook up with men. New York or no New York, it’s never easy. At least for me.
The four friends, in spite of very different schedules, busy lifestyles and apartment locations, still manage to meet all the time. Not just for lunches or nights out, sometimes they have breakfast together too! My college friends just talk about getting together all the time, but with all the different schedules and different cities (Makati, Quezon, Antipolo, Pasig), we’re lucky if we get to meet every other month. When we do meet, it’s hard to catch up; we’ve been living these lives the others don’t know much about, and it would take too much time to tell them the really important things. So we stay within the safer, simpler topics: recent movies, encapsulated versions of lovelives (those who manage to have some), favorite restaurants, and the ever reliable reminiscences about college life. We do manage to have fun, until the next gathering months later.
Carrie has a cute Mac and I’m stuck with a first generation Pentium-run Office 97. Which I don’t even have in my apartment but sits at home in Bulacan waiting for the weekends I feel up to writing anything at all.
The apartments. Hah. They all have their own apartments, all beautifully decorated. I share with two other girls and the ghost of a third one who’s left loads of her stuff in the unlivable living room when she moved out. We have roach and rat problems, and the faucet leaks.
The clothes. I love Carrie’s outfits, but I can never wear anything like that because I just don’t have that kind of anatomy.
None of the girls stay single for very long. I’ve been single all my life.
On the other hand, some things resonate with me.
Asking questions. “I couldn’t help but wonder…” Carrie always prefaces her hypotheticals. Yes, go on, wonder. Never stop searching, never stop exploring, never stop asking questions, never stop living your life.
Eternal optimism. I love it that even though they’ve been to dating hell and back a hundred times over, they’re still ready to plunge in every time, take emotional risks, lay their feelings on the line, and manage to have fun through it all. I’m an emotional wuss, but I do believe in hope springing eternal. Carrie and the other girls would never write that down as a favorite motto, but still that’s how they’re living their lives.
Big. I guess with every group of friends, at least one of them has that guy that just somehow refuses to give you closure, that’s always there at the back of your mind, every now and then suddenly swimming to the surface of your thoughts as if to show you he’s been there all along.
Friends who are always there for each other. “It’s hard to find people who will love you no matter what.” Carrie says. “I’m lucky to have three.” I totally agree. Men walk in and out of their lives, they go through various heartaches, adventures and traumas, but one thing still remain: they have friends they can tell the story to, and who can be counted on to actually listen. Me too.