And I found myself wondering...

Medora and I went to see the Sex and the City movie Sunday night. I walked out of the theater and just could not figure out what was wrong. And it hit me: It was all wrong. I've been watching season 3, and it reminded me why I like the show. Despite the insane amount of designer clothing and the ridiculous restaurants and the fact that I STILL can't accept the fact that Carrie lives in that apartment while buying way too many expensive shoes and outfits, I enjoyed it. I liked how each episode revolved around one theme, something approached from multiple angles. I loved Carrie's ridiculous outfits and Aiden, and Samantha's crazy sex life, and Miranda's absolute wonderfulness (I admit, big crush there), and I loved to hate Charlotte (and man, do I hate Charlotte).

They tackled ISSUES, and I liked that, even if it were in a way that I didn't agree with. Like the episode where Carrie is dating the bisexual guy, and the girls have this discussion and say stuff along the lines that "bisexuality doesn't exist, it not a sexual orientation it's just being greedy, etc." And of course, that was NOT cool with me, but I was at least appreciative that in the end, Carrie kissed a girl (Alanis Morrisette, no less) and made a rational decision that it was not for her, and she was not okay with dating a bisexual man. The series presented complex emotional problems and responses and storylines that stretched for months or years.

Not to mention the sheer joy of watching four young(ish), single (mostly) women living independently in a big city, with their own apartments, jobs, friends, lives, with a quest for love but not necessarily a NEED for it. I know that I'll probably never have the money to live anything like that, but the thought of having a life in a big city with friends and fun and a job and trivial little problems that have nothing to do with living in the dorms.

And I did not find that in the movie. Everything just felt forced. There were complex emotional situations that I felt fell flat (how's that for alliteration). I LOVE Miranda, and I found her annoying and mean. And Carrie too, and Samantha was really not doing anything fun. And Charlotte might as well not have existed. Everyone seemed... old. Just old. I couldn't connect to them anymore. And for some reason, it made me so sad.

The Joys of Pantless Freelancing

This summer, I am doing freelance input/editing. Now, when I first took this job, I envisioned a wonderland, where I could move about the city, editing wherever I wanted. Spending the day doing actual WORK in Mars Cafe or Starbucks, listening to music while sipping decaf and feeling all grown up. Most importantly, I would be free to lounge around the house in whatever I felt most comfortable in. Which, for me, means no pants. Not necessarily bottomless, but in sweats, a skirt, whatever. But no pants.

And then, reality. Instead of editing, I'm doing data input. Instead of my carefree joyful world of coffee shops and pretty coffee cups and low-key folk rock, I get to sit in my hard wooden kitchen booth calling multiple restaurants and bars for hours on end. Needless to say, this was a little disappointing. I hate making phone calls, and I HATE being trapped at home for hours on end calling manager after manager so I can ask them if their restaurant has a party room.

I'm into my third week, and have come to several important conclusions. The first, is that no job is as bad as you think it is. Sure, this sucks, but there are upsides. Sometimes, I get to call hilarious places. Like that one topless bar on the Northeast side. Sometimes, the owner is really nice to me, and tells me to come by sometime and they'll buy me a drink (which I cannot take advantage of, but which I appreciate all the same).

Most of all, though, freelance has made me realize that I need to get a different job. Some people can turn freelancing into a successful business and find fulfillment in being their own boss. I, however, am not one of these people. I like talking to people. I like leaving my home. However, I also enjoy not wearing pants. This is the conundrum: my dislike of being stuck at home combined with my love of not having to wear confining garments. I'll have to figure this out somehow. But at least I have the whole summer.