This replaces my previous entry concerning the penultimate episode of Sex and the City and some of the most absurd comments I've made, comparing my life to those of the show's characters, whom I referred to, in the post, as 'four lesbian women'. Bit of a bizarre thought, I admit, but in keeping with the general decline of the blog. I'm really sorry that I've been slipping lately, resorting to fancy dress and lesbianism for spectacle, and parading my desperate, single lifestyle as entertainment.
If sex sells then we're certainly in a state of recession, and nobody wants to read about a failing economy; so from now I promise there'll be less of the Sex and the Dawson's Creek style angst of late and a return to the Golden Era of blog writing (see entry, Sylvia Plath): a more simple time, when a song lyric, a memory, or an anecdote from my day might arouse comment, without a need to dress up in spandex for laughs.
A Fancy Dress
There was not a single spandex moment in my weekend but it was still one of the best, in March at least, due to a little shindig we hosted here at the Beth and San Ranch, complete with peach cobbler, board game and a live music revue, headlined by Caroline and myself on guitar; singing along, camp fire style, were Mike, Beth, Ian and Lindsey. Of course, three glasses of wine and a Five for Fighting song was enough to get out the Superman cape but not quite enough to get me into the blue tights. (Four of five glasses maybe, and the theme from Superman: The Movie and you've got yourself a superhero.)
A costume party was out the question apparently, when I suggested we dress as characters from Sex and the City for its final episode last night. The female core of Saturday night's party returned in casual attire for the viewing, which was emotional to say the least. Goodbye Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha and Miranda! And thanks for reading.
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