Sex comes to the city

Tonight was the Raleigh premiere of Sex and the City and I got to see the sneak peek! Special thanks to Alison who won two free tickets on the radio and brought me along. A little dinner beforehand with a glass of wine and then a special screening of the greatest movie to hit the streets of New York...kinda.

I did win a shirt before the movie started. They were giving out shirts to people for random things, and one of the things was having something from NYC in your purse. I, of course, had my MetroCard with me. Who knew it would come in so handy in NC?

Overall, I would give the movie a B+. The movie had its cute moments and its share of witty - and hilarious - dialogue. Every one of the characters are still true to form and it maintains a pretty good clip, despite the movie clocking in at 2.5 hours. Like hanging out with four of your best girlfriends, the time really did fly.

The biggest thing missing was that sparkle that came with the series. It seemed as if the actors were trying too hard to make this into something it wasn't. At times, it felt that the acting was a bit strained (I think Kristen Davis - Charlotte - did the best job of everyone). Even Oscar-winning Jennifer Hudson didn't seem to quite fit in. The plot was a bit thin; I had a hard time buying that Carrie would have done what she did. The movie didn't do much to develop the characters, which I realize is probably because it's aimed at a certain target - those women who followed the show for six seasons. But, being one of those girls, I still had a hard time emotionally connecting with some of the characters and their predictaments. Don't get me wrong - I laughed, I cried, I cheered. The movie was just missing that frosting on the cake. I would have just liked to see SATC go out with just a little more style.

But the point of a good chick flick is to get away. To escape into a fantasy of New York City for a few hours. And the movie did a good job of that. The fashion was fun to see, the city was fun to see, and the denouement of the show was fun to see. And, of course, seeing the movie with my good friend made it fun to see. Thanks for the fun girls night out, Alison!

On a random note, I just read an article in The New Yorker about Pascal Dangin, who is this world class retoucher of fashion photographs. Apparently, he's so good that photographers actually have him on set to help them with their photos. Well, he had a cameo role in the movie. He was on screen for all of three seconds, but it was so fun to see him and know who that crazy hair belonged to. And it made some of the movie make sense. Random to have just read that and then to have seen him in the movie.

A new milestone reached

I stopped at the gas station today to fill up my tank, and saw that the inevitable milestone has finally come to Raleigh: gas is $4/gallon.

So this is the first time, that I can remember, that a gallon of gas is officially more expensive than a gallon of milk. I don't know whether I should say "It's about time" or "Holy monkeys."

If Ford's announcement this week means anything, then maybe this means smaller, less-polluting, more-efficient cars are finally in our consistent future.

All in a wave

The human tendency (at least, I think it applies to all humans, although I haven't tested this theory among all the world's cultures) is to wave to a video camera. It's almost instinctive; as soon as the camera begins to whir, the jazz-handed wave greets the viewer.

We seldom sporadically wave in other parts of our lives. When driving down the road, we don't wave to fellow passerbyers. We don't wave to others on a train or if we see another plane crossing air space, miles away.

But, I noticed this weekend when vacationing at the beach, that we do wave to other boaters. I felt as if I was on a parade float, waving to people as we zoomed by each other. On almost every boat we passed, the passengers waved to us...and we waved to other passengers, sometimes instigating the acknowledgment ourselves.

And it made me think of other times that we wave to people. And I think that we have a higher tendency to wave to people when there's a personal contact made, like eye contact. In a boat, you can't help but see the other person coming towards you, and once that personal connection is made, it's rude not to wave. Maybe it's a way of embracing our humanity, sharing our collective sameness, acknowledging each other, especially when you have no other choice but to. In a car, we're distracted; we have an excuse not to wave and the person never really knows if we saw them or not. But out in the open - whether it's on a boat, or walking down a neighborhood sidewalk, or passing someone on a carriage ride - things become a little more personal.

Maybe we should all wave more, even when we're in our cars, or in a place where we normally don't wave. If anything, it's a friendly gesture, even if you do start to feel like you're in a parade.

Going Down?

I came across an interesting factoid in The New Yorker the other day ("Up and then Down", April 21, 2008): since the 1990's, the "close door" button on elevators doesn't actually work. The only person that can activate that button is a fireman with a key that he or she uses in the event of a fire or emergency.

How many times have I pressed that key impatiently, smashing it again and again to get a door to close, usually when the elevator has stopped nonsensically at a floor where no one is present? That button almost acts as a valve, releasing the rising anger and angst of frustration. As if pressing it again and again - even though the doors still don't seem to immediately close - helps keep our temper in check.

Or maybe we use that button as a signal, a way of letting others in the elevator know that we are in a hurry, need to get somewhere, frustrated that the elevator is taking it's sweet time to get to the next floor.

Now that I know that this button doesn't actually work for us common folk, I'm going to more carefully watch how other passengers use this button. I'd like to see how many times they punch the button and what makes them believe, as I did, that their actions actually have some sort of consequence. And maybe, if I'm feeling particuarly punchy - or brave - I just might share the insight of the dummy button with them.

What's Love Got to do with It?

When I was five or six years old, I would prance around the house with my favorite red purse, belting out the words to "What's Love Got to do with It?" My dream was to be Tina Turner - complete with the crazy hair - and marry Michael Jackson.

Well, some dreams don't quite come true. Alas, marrying the King of Pop was not in the cards, and neither was pulling off the crazy Tina hair - or getting the fabulous Tina legs, for that matter.

But dreams can come pretty close - in October, Abby and I will rendez-vous in Chicago to see Tina perform on her last tour ever! I'm pretty excited about the whole thing and just hope that Tina is prepared for me to sing with her on stage. Oh, Tina, you're "Simply the Best!"

By the way, do you know that Tina is 69 years old? I just hope I can age as gracefully as she has.

Yo Momma!

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there! As a special treat, I have a very fun blog that just about everyone can relate to. It's a website that invites people to send in their crazy e-mails that their mothers send them. You know the ones - the nagging ones, the unintentionally funny ones, the ones where your mom is trying to let you know she cares about you but it's just coming off as her being psychotic.

Before I saw this website, I thought it was just me. Now I know that I'm just one of a multitude. The Newsweek article about the blog is here.

And you can check out Postcards From Yo Momma here. Let the hilarity ensue! Thanks to Elizabeth for cluing me in and saving my sanity!

Commoditized

In the Dallas airport this morning, I walked by a vending machine. It didn't dispense candy bars or soda pop, but iPods. Press E3 for a blue iPod Nano. Or press A8 for an extra set of ear buds. A simple slide of the credit card makes the sale complete.

Amazing. Even iPods are becoming a commodity. Soon we'll be trading iPods on the Stock Exchange, right along with orange juice pork bellies.

Note: I actually found an image online of the exact vending machine at DFW so you can revel in the experience. Apparently, I'm not the only one completely amazed.