I had a week full of good sex… as in Sex and the City. Either way, I had the best week ever…..
And between two premieres and parties with so many desserts and Carrie-Cosmos, it felt like the holidays. But to me, a Carrie Bradshaw protégé, the premiere week of the Sex and the City movie is a holiday.
First, was the Tuesday night premiere in Ballantyne (requiring me to keep my mouth shut for three days to avoid being a spoiler). I think we got a bootleg version of the premiere because the boom microphones kept creeping their way into some of the shots. When you see the movie pay attention to the scene towards the beginning where all the girls are sitting in Charlotte’s bed with Charlotte’s daughter Lily sitting between Carrie and Charlotte; notice how Lily is looking up and around ... for the boom mics looming over her head.
Meanwhile, there was a shoe ice sculpture, martinis made with Vitamin Water (gross), and, the salt to my pepper, my roommate, Paige, got the pink boa, which made her a winner of enough gift certificates from bakeries to cater our housewarming party.
And then up at Lake Norman, a.k.a Huntersville, the Go BIG or Stay Home premiere at Birkdale Village benefiting the YWCA and Leukemia & Lymphoma Society had a lot of women with atti-shoes. Shoes from all sorts of fancy fashion brands for which I can’t pronounce entered the pink shoe contest that Jacinda from 96.1 and I emceed and a Stanford and Anthony duo judged. The winner scored a pair of Manolo Blahnicks, but the woman who went to Michaels and handmade her designer pumps unofficially got runner-up and the pedicure left over from the raffle that Jacinda and I decided she deserved.
I cast my vote for the woman who pimped out her leg brace. But what the hell do I know, the only labels I pay attention to are warning and nutritional ones. Although I did get really excited when some little old lady told me I looked like Carrie Bradshaw in my dress. I told her she had validated the purchase of it. I am happy to announce that no boom mics made any cameos at that premiere.
People complained that there was a lot of product placement, but it all made sense…. as to why Vitamin Water sponsored the premiere and Skyy Vodka sponsored all the parties I hosted.
Just like the party at Hom with the It Factor on Friday night following the movie’s actual release. And it was just as big as the party at Dresslers in Birkdale Village. It had a pimp Baker shoe display, homemade cookie lollipops, samples of some high end healthy hippie juice, makeshift paparazzi, and people passing out samples of Sparks in a giant chemistry tube for which someone asked if it was a bong or a penis pump. But between the goody bags from the parties I scored swag including free Botox and a lifetime supply of condoms.
Between seeing the movie twice and listening to the movie’s version of “Heart of the Matter” a hundred times, I felt inspired to try the whole forgiveness thing, so I RSVP’ed yes to an invitation to lunch from my Mr. Big. I was one bite into an appetizer before I regretted it because I realized that not only was he still there, but I was still in love with him. Lunch lasted the rest of the day, and that night I saw him at Connelly’s. I walked away for, oh, 10 minutes, and returned to walk up on him kissing some Cougar that reminded me of my old 2nd grade teacher.
I just walked away and went into the bathroom in fear of a public display of emotion. But I didn’t even feel compelled to cry. Like Carrie said in the movie, “Maybe we’re just allotted so many tears per man and I’ve already used his all up.” I just looked at myself in the mirror and, for the first time in a while, saw me. I realized that my insecurities about love weren’t coming from within…. They were coming from him.
So I just went downstairs to finish my beer on the patio and then some guy stopped me, "Were you eating luch at Big Daddy’s today?"
"Yes!" "I thought that was you, I saw you in there with your boyfriend. You had doves flying around your head and shit."
"Oh you mean the guy upstairs kissing someone else,” I responded feeling like I’d just taken a bullet.
I just turned to Paige and pleaded, "Can we go to Buckhead or something, I might get dramatic up in here."
And unlike Carrie, I didn’t get any love letters. Instead, I woke up, from the “Carrie-tini” coma I sedated myself in, to a text from him comparing it to the picture of me kissing a cardboard cut-out of Kasey Kahne that was on Charlotte.com’s homepage. I immediately blocked all his numbers, deleted him from my Linked-in network and AOL Messenger. Now, if someone could just tell me how to block e-mails.
For pics from the party, and naked pictures of myself check out qcafterdark.com
OK, so I’m not naked, but I am wearing my version of Carrie’s infamous "naked dress" that I got at Lotus. Now there’s my product placement.
What can I say? I get CARRIEd away.