My Vagina is Depressed
The most memorable line from Sex and the City last night had to be the entire deal surrounding one woman’s “vaginal depression.” I mean, could you imagine going through life getting to use this as a lame excuse?
“Why, I’d love to help you move tomorrow but, you see, I absolutely cannot. My vagina’s depressed.”
“What’s that? You need a ride to the store? I’d love to help but, you see, sweetie, my vagina’s depressed today.”
It is a dirty show but, hey, somebody has to say it, I suppose. And it was on HBO, so it’s not like you can’t pretend it was ever intended for the kiddies. I have mixed feelings about watching something so dirty. I mean, on the one hand, it was quite funny and well written but, on the other, I could do without all that smut.
It’s also very NYC. It reminded me of growing up, and made me feel almost lucky that I’m not still in that environment. Somehow, I just don’t think I would have made a good man-eater and that’s probably what I would have turned into had I stayed in NY and never left for upstate (or Texas for that matter.)
Another great one-liner was the scene where they had an obviously “gay” man (we’re talking flaming here, ok) talking on the phone, saying something along the lines of, “My Mother’s so cheap. I’ve had to go shopping and get every frigging thing at Bed Bath and Frigging Beyond.” Just the way he said it, his mannerisms, his accent, it was so NY it made me stop in my tracks.
I think it’s safe to say now. I’m, officially, no longer a New Yorker. Sure, I was born there. Sure, I grew up there. But there’s just something not so NY about me anymore. It’s like I’ve been tamed by the western sunset. I can look at that environment, appreciate it for what it’s worth and all, but it’s no longer me. To tell the truth, I’m not sure if I miss it or not. I mean, there is something to be said for living in that wild, crazy, vibrant place but then, the tango NY has also run over it’s share of pedestrians who were merely trying to get out of the way.
Until next time…
