I am one of those women who have watched most, if not all, of the “Sex and the City” episodes. I have seen the first movie, and half of the second. I guess I watch for the sake of entertainment, but to be honest, there is nothing remotely familiar to any aspect of my life and anyone I know for that matter. If art immitates life, or if life immitates art, the art must be one of those abstract masterpieces that causes the onlooker to respond, “I don’t get it.” For one, these women are apart of my mother’s cohort (as far as age). Even though they have illicit sexual encounters, I can’t recall an episode or conversation about HIV/AIDs – but then again, that is a black and latino problem. And, contrary to popular belief, Carry dresses like a 1920 night walker, bohemian edition. Carry is a journalist, freelance at that, but manages to keep a lavish apartment (minus roommates) in downtown Manhattan, and support an expensive shoe addiction. The biggest life concern in Samanath’s world is not to stretch her woman hole out beyond repair, to get gential warts, or even to catch a new and improved wall-street fashioned STD, but merely to loose her outta control drive to have intercourse with anyone with a bulge between their thighs. I’m surprised that Maranda’s husband does not wear panties. Charlotte is probably the most normal to me (says the traditionalist). However, I hang my head down in shame by her over-the-top attempts to keep up her picture perfect image.

I got most of my reality fill from “Girlfriends”. Although the show was produced by a white man (who I believe may be gay), the situations and dialogue was surprisingly nostalgic. How did Kelsy Grammer know that this black woman loaths man boobs; or that my circle of friends believe that the first thing a man should have in a new house is a bed. Of course they had relationship and sex conversations – from Joan’s 3 month rule, to Lynn’s free love religion. But the writers included real life situations, like Joan making the difficult decision to end an engagement with the man of her dreams because he didn’t want children, Lynn’s identity issues with being mixed-race and adopted, and Joan’s decision to give up her career as a lawyer to follow her heart. Not only did the show provide familiar stories, but they had something that most television shows don’t have – black women that are leading characters. Unfortunately, like most good things (especially those that are black), it came to an unexpected end.

So Sex and the City is the type of entertainment that many young adult, working women turn to. Sad but true.

To be honest, the only aspect of Sex and the City that I can get down with is the theme music.