Myself, Writing and Sex and the City

First published on Facebook: Sunday, May 11, 2008 at 1:46am

There was a time, not so long ago when I lived and breathed sex and the city. Well, not exactly, but Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte would join me every night for supper. My free cable had been taken away in a storm, and Jenn was either at work or at Hugh's. What else was a girl to do? Like most of my life, I spent it watching other people live, but this time I was analysing it.

I had forgotten about that when I flipped to it tonight as I babysat for one of my kids. It was on Sky, and I just decided that that would bide the time as I finished writing the letter to my friend. But, like the inspiration for most of my notes, the girls got me thinking again.

I remember reading an interview with Kim Catrall, who explained something about the four ladies. I thought about that as I watched tonight, having been reminded of it recently. She said that each of the main characters exists in every woman out there, they're just exaggerrated to make it good fiction. And that it is. Because the girls exist in all of us, as well, we are able to sympathize with each of their problems, and I was totally there tonight.

But, who are the girls exactly. Carrie is the writer, and that I connect with right away. She's a columnist who exposes her most intimate thoughts with the city of New York, so I'm keen to her exhibitionist spirit of the pen somedays. Then there's Miranda, the hard-nosed lawyer who makes her career come first before personal gain - or at least what society deems women's personal gain. She has a wonderful man, Steve, fall for her, but she can't do it because of her career. Is that not the ultimate challenge every independent single woman in her thirties faces? Society has told woman for (well, at least the last fifty years, but we'll exagerrate to make our point and say) eternity that they should find a mate, settle down and have a baby. But Miranda cannot live with this man who dotes on her in such a loving manner (and they do such a good job of not making him a pushover too). And then she nearly gives the baby up for her career, but at the last minute decides against it 'cause she may never have a baby if she doesn't have this one. I love Miranda 'cause she's so career-centred and non-fussed by men. She is the epitomy of the self-sufficient career woman. And then Samantha is the epitomy of the self-sufficent sexual woman. She is the representative of the indpendent woman post-sexual revolution. No, it's not only ok for women to sleep around like men, (which makes my feminist backbone quiver at the thought of that double standard), but we should and as often as possible. (I was holding that line for a novel in the future, but it fits Sam so well that I;ll offer it as a teaser.) She is completely confident in her body and therefore goes through breast cancer and comes out on top. And then, of course Charlotte. The sweet, innocent proper woman who wants a proper husband and a proper family and a proper life. And her plans all go to shit because were she to succeed, Sex and the City could not be good feminist fiction. Charlotte is the part of all feminists that we secretly want to kill. She might exist inside of us, but we're not happy about that and we label her as "social conditioning" perhaps rather than biological instincts because we know that's society explanation for why she exists. And I believe that. We are social conditioned to be each of these women. But which woman are we?

Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not Charlotte. I think I killed that part of the woman when I picked up my first F button. That doesn't mean that some of my fantasies don't lead to me having that little family, but I'm a realist and I'm usually alone with the kid, or else endlessly arguing with the other parent about how to raise my kid. I think that's why I told a friend last year, that I don't want kids. I explained that the only reason I would have one is to improve on what my parents did and give them what I didn't have. And that's living through them, and that's the wrong reason to have a child. Instead I'll have characters and they'll be in a novel, where I can change their environment as well and things will all be under my control.

As for Samantha, well, I thought so. I love her confidence. I don't like her style. And I share the same fascination with certain body parts. And little sexual-feminist Jodi is crying in shame at that confession, but it's the truth, which often hurts.

Carrie's got too much of a fashion obsession to be me. Her appeal is the writing thing. And often we share similar opinions on life. But that may just be why I love the show. She often annoys me and I want to stuff a sock in her mouth (thank god they got rid of the talking to the camera in the first season) but at the end of the day I still love her, so it's ok.

Tonight, I was totally getting the Miranda vibes. But she's the miserable one! I don't want to end up like that, and I know I won't. First of all, I'm not focused enough to be that driven in my career. And my self esteem issues work the other way for me - I yell at myself way before I yell at the other person.

On the way home from babysitting, I talked to the father about writing. It turns out he finished a novel last summer and is currently waiting to hear back from an agent. I think that's fantastic! We discussed writing and getting published and I explained that I just need to have the novel finished. Not published, but finished. If I never get published, I'll probably still continue to write. It's become a thing for me, and I've realized lately that it's always been a thing for me. I talked to Florence about imaginary friends last weekend. And tonight I talked about telling yourself stories to help the little boy fall asleep. That's what my childhood was. Crikey, I even remember writing a story with Spencer when I was ten. So I have to write. That's as simple as it gets. Whether it's to keep me sane, make sense of my life or merely to tell the world what I have to say, I have to write. And so I've written this.