I saw it. I not only saw it, I saw it the first weekend.

Yes folks, I am one of millions of women (and gay men) who went to see “Sex And The City: The Movie.”

I don’t kiss and tell, so you won’t hear any of the sordid details from me; however, I will tell you that if you were a fan of the HBO cable series, then you will not be disappointed.

I laughed, I cried. And then I laughed and cried some more.

Like others in the audience, I got back into the story easily; it was a seamless transition from the series to the movie. And just like I didn’t want the HBO cable series to end, I didn’t want the movie to end either!

It wasn’t the fabulous clothes, shoes or handbags, which were, indeed, fabulous, although way beyond my meager budget. And it wasn’t the hot-looking men, although there were a few who were hotter than July.

It really was the down-to-earth dialogue, and the well-developed relationships of the four friends. (Oh, and, maybe, also, the hot, buttered popcorn!) The ladies were right on point in terms of character, as was the supporting cast. The story was believable without being predictable.

When I got home, I thought about how good the movie made me feel. I thought, while men may come and go, good friends, like diamonds, are forever. Not that I’m giving up men or giving up on men. On the contrary, if I’m still breathing (hopefully, without an inhaler), there’s hope! My Mr. Big is out there. In the meantime, my Mr. Big is in my drawer.

Here’s hoping that the SATC saga continues!



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