Margarita's Anyone?

It's 10:11 and I'm finally heading to bed. The kitchen is a mess of leftover dinner dishes, homework and a clay project the kids were working on earlier this evening before I shooed them off to bed to watch the new Disney movie Tangled. I know I will regret it in the morning, leaving the disaster downstairs... but my head is pounding and I feel the need to pop a couple Severe Cold caplets and climb into bed, seeing that I have to be up at 6:30 and out the door by 7:30 to get to work.

So I'm snuggled into bed with my laptop, Fried Green Tomatoes playing in the background on the Director's Commentary. Yes, I am a movie nerd! Ever since my childhood fascination with The Karate Kid (who I must admit my joy in watching him 27 years later on this season of Dancing with the Stars...) I have been swept away by movie magic! And so I end my day as a ritual, computer on my lap and a movie playing in the background as I re-live my day in my head.
       I made it through! I made some good choices, I made some bad choices. But overall, the day was a success. Starting with a long over do get together with my girls... ending with the beginning plans of a Girls Night Out, though it most likely will be a Girl's Night In at Jenny's house and that's even better. Better to bitch and moan, giggle and use dirty words if we're not in public... which we tend to do. I am the first to admit that I love a good swear word. Must be my rebellion from such a sheltered childhood. Or maybe I just like acting like a bad girl, when anyone who really knows me, knows that I'm a rule following good girl at heart!
      I am a pre Sex and the City woman. Meaning, I missed the original broadcast of this phenomenon because I was too cheap to pay for HBO and was too busy out drinking and kissing strangers in the dark. I am a mother of three beautiful children who can not fathom the idea of their mother partying the night away, mascara smudged around her glazed eyes. There was a time when I used to refer to these as “the good old days” and realize now, that while there were some good days, most of them were riddled with self-loathing, insecurity and plain bad judgment. Today at nearly forty, which to my delight I’m told is the new thirty, I have had the opportunity to have watched said iconic show and must admit to my chagrin that for better or for worse, I have been changed because of it.  I wonder to myself if I would have been as effected had I been voyeur to these snippets of metropolitan mayhem and sexual awakening the first time around in my twenties.
In hindsight, I believe that I may have, perhaps putting less pressure on myself to go out and find that husband and find that unique sense of self worth in myself earlier ala Samantha. I’m sure I would have a more polished wardrobe extending beyond my daily uniform of khaki pants and t-shirts, a matching cardigan sweater thrown on top when I need to “dress it up.” Maybe I would have set out to have a high powered career and find success and empowerment in the corporate world like Miranda.  If I am honest with myself, most likely I would be and am a pared down version of the doe eyed optimist Charlotte,  dreaming of the perfect existence in the suburbs.  In interviews they always claim that it was and is an ensemble show but who are we kidding, it was ultimately all about Carrie. Carrie’s wardrobe, Carries career as a writer, Carrie’s love affairs. Carrie’s friends.  Perhaps it’s because if you think about it, Carrie is the ultimate fantasy character.  Every woman who is a fan of the show wishes she was the Carrie in her group of friends, in reality we all have a part of Carrie in us by way of our distinct desire to be loved,  be accepted and feel whole in a world filled with chaos and despair.
I must admit here that while I am entertainment junkie and open minded enough to watch the sometimes downright vulgar mishaps of these made up characters, you need not have watched a single episode to understand the true desire and gift of sisterhood and unconditional love that was ultimately the basis of the show.

        And while there are five of us... not four, I have my own group of girls. There is something about a group of women gathering together over Margarita's that evokes a multitude of possibilities; laughter and tears, drunken professions of the deepest secrets held close to the heart. We've said it all, heard it all... in the best of times, the worst of times... we all know that "Margarita's Anyone?" is really code for: "I need to talk... I need to be heard..." and as always, we all come running!