Sex and the City and Me

Saw “Sex And The City” a handful of times only, and I absolutely regret that it isn't in my staple diet list. It’s one show where everything and anything is in reverted logic.

I mean, common, they probably have the most kicking middle ages. In their late thirties and yet are still in the same league as cheerleaders half their age. Where else can you find women so utterly insane yet lovable? 20 years from now, most of us will be plagued with sagging bottoms, overly ripe breast, orange skinned thighs, and balloon like tummies. These gals, on the other hand, are still alive and marketable: to the extent of pretending to be the person on a membership card – just to gain entry in an oh-so-hot-pool where the heavenly congregate.

I can never clear this muddle: Do television shows oversimplify or over dramatize life?

See, one of the girls was having a similar predicament to many of us…

“Now, how would I know that…?.....” [if the guy liked her more instead of the cheerleader]

“Would things be clear if I did this…?...”

and he moved in, closer and then, tantalizingly kissed her. She moaned all the way through. (Don’t see why she wouldn’t.)

Now, if only things were as simple as that!

I can’t help but think that unlike these ladies who are living with Pentium 4 Processors, we (at an age where things are suppose to be cuckoo) are still picking daisies and plucking petal after petal, muttering helplessly “ He/She loves me, He/She loves me not.” Oh, woe betide us...

No doubt the next episode will see the both of them ruffling blankets and sheets, but why are we still in the dark-ages when computer chips are experiencing exponential growth?

These foursome are living in a bubble, painting a rather unreal “New York – where everything is possible”. They love their men, flaunt their cleavages, don’t hesitate in blowing and persist that 20 years down the road, the right guy could be their high-school sweetheart after all.

Maybe love is far simpler when people talked less and kissed more…