It occurred to me that my naturally swervish driving might not seem so natural to the highway patrol officer behind me, as I pulled off a narrow back road exit.  He came up to my car and immediately asked what I had been drinking.  I told him I had a “cosmo” and he commenced to interrogate me.  He left my car side and two other officers came up to my car individually and asked the exact same series of questions.  I don’t know what it was, but something about them and their repetitive questions made me feel drunk…even though I knew I wasn’t.  But moreso than the feeling of un-intoxicated inebriation, was the feeling of fear.

So I have two officers in my family, meaning I shouldn’t have 5-0 phobia, but that night I had it bad.  I felt how completely vulnerable I was as a young woman, alone, on a back road, in a short dress, at 2 in the morning, surrounded by three armed policeman.  For some reason the words “to protect and serve” written across the side of their three separate cars that created a vehicular barrier around mine, seemed to lack the comfort they intended.  Especially when my keys were taken and I was asked to “step out of the car please”.

Either I am completely undeserving of my Berkeley degree, or the drunk driving tests they put you through are a bunch of misleading mind games designed to trip you up.  Okay, so the whole “watch my finger without moving your head” trick…I thought I was doing pretty well until his finger moved far beyond my peripheral.  What do you do? Stop trying to look? Slightly turn your head enough to see?  Who knows.

And who said it’s an appropriate test for a woman in stiletto heels to lift one leg straight out in front of her with her head back for 30 seconds.  I mean Come On!  He suggested I remove my shoes.  Excuse me?  Trying to balance under pressure was worth keeping the shear disgust of sludgy asphalt far away from my toes.  Needless to say, I stumbled over, like anyone in heels on uneven pavement (or any drunk) would do.  Not good. But, let’s not forget my extreme nervousness and fear for my safety while all this is taking place in 40 degree weather.  My knees trembling must have signaled to the officers that I was ready for multiple counting games. 

“Using your index finger and thumb, count 1-2-3-4-4-3-2-1, do this 5 times with 10 second breaksin between each set”, Officer #1 instructed.  Huh?  My mind is racing and my goosebumps are trembling…am I supposed to remember this?  Apparently I was…according to the incriminating look on Officer #2’s face after I obliviously began my 6th counting set.  Oh well, I figured.  They’ll take me in, run some tests, and find out that they wasted their time.  But to my surprise, I would pass the next and final test they administered with flying colors, and subsequently be set free.  An hour later, this test would be the first and only test that would actually tell them what they wanted to know. 

The “Breathalyzer” tells officers how much alcohol is in a person’s system.  In my case…none!  After giving me the good news Officer #3 approached me puzzled.  He was concerned by how I got an A+ on the alcohol-free final, but was a failing student on all the previous exams.  But soon, I was able to return to the open road and my piece of mind, after being scolded about eating properly and getting more sleep…factors he believed must have lead to my lack of hand-eye-stiletto coordination. 

So will I ever drink and drive…NO.  According to my DUI tests, I can barely breathe and drive!

In one scene, Vince Vaughn’s character is having a flirtatious conversation with what seems to be a sophomore undergrad. She leans over and kisses him and he reluctantly pulls away, apologetically explaining his marital and parental obligations.  Basically saying he wishes he could, but he can’t.  This scene struck me.  It was clear he really wanted something to happen…isn’t that bad enough?  This is not nearly the first time  that a movie has depicted men in relationships as helpless prisoners longing for sexual freedom.  I feel like if you want to cheat so bad, it’s the same as actually doing it right??

Well, here is a text conversation between a girl and a guy that came out of this enigma of fidelty.  (Whoever said you couldn’t have deep conversations over text?)…Tell me what you think.

Girl:  Is wanting to cheat the same as cheating?

Guy:  Good question.  I think it depends on the want.  I dunno…what makes you ask that?

Girl:  I’m watching Old School

Guy:  I mean, just cause you are in a relationship, that won’t make everyone else in the world ugly or undesirable, so I think it’s situational.

Girl:  If u had a girl in an intimate setting alone and she was attractive, and she leaned in and kissed u, but after the kiss u told her u had a girlfriend.  Are u wrong or right?

Guy:  You’re wrong for being in the intimate setting first, and You’re even more wrong for kissing.

Girl:  So say you’re back home, and you go to your female friends b day party, but she just broke up with her bf and doesn’t wanna be around all those people.  U walk in on her in the back room and see she’s crying and u offer a shoulder.  U talk, she feels comforted, and she kisses u.  Are u wrong for wanting the kiss even though u stop her after and tell her u have a gf?

Guy:  First off she knows i have a girlfriend.  Secondly, I’m talking about you all night anyway.  Third if I had to be that friend that was doing the consoling for her I would back from the kiss and leave, but I choose my friends better than that so the situation isn’t realistic.

Girl:  The question was are you wrong for WANTING it?

Guy: At that point I wouldn’t want it anyway, only low lifes and losers want a rebound kiss from a crying girl…but if I must keep going with your scenario and I did want the kiss, that would be wrong.  First i would have known all night that i would have wanted to kiss her cause the shit doesn’t just spring up on you when you see a girl crying.  So really the most wrong move would have been to just go in the room alone, because that’s the first step in acting out this “want”.

 Girl: So is wanting to cheat just as bad as cheating?  Is wanting to cheat worth breaking up over?

Guy: Yes, wanting to cheat is worth breaking up over because a want means you’ll prolly do it.  There is a difference between wanting to cheat and saying “well, if i was single i would”. The latter is ok, the first is not.

Girl: Hmmm, that’s complicated because i would think that “if you were single” you would want to find the woman you are with and not just kiss some otehr random girl.  The whole “if i were single” seems to harken back to better days when you did what you wanted to do and not felt guilty…. Thus the only difference the relationship poses in the situation is the feeling of guilt that ensues… but the desire remains the same right?

Guy: No, the desire should lessen.

Girl: But not cease to exist? And if it does still exist, is it the relationship that must cease?

Guy: I dont know, that’s a tough question.

But I can’t help it.  I really feel like Sex And the City is the grown up girl’s answer to Clueless.  And yes, I say “grown up” because with the myriad naughty things that take place, there is no way a 15 yr. old girl (Ms. Hannah Montana) should be heralding it as her favorite show!  But, even though this film has its share of hiccups and inconsistencies, I think it very well serves its purpose for all of its fans, be they (too) young or old.

Okay, so I don’t care what anyone says, the storyline and even the fabulous characters are all secondary to the true star of the film.  The FASHION!  Undoubtedly, over half the women in the audience (speaking of audiences that were overwhelmingly female in my two experiences) came into the theater giddy over the beautiful arrays of dresses, bags, and of course shoes that were to be spread across the screen in a visually close, but for most, a completely unattainable display.  The names of Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Diane Von Furstenburg, etc. parade the screen and make the audience (well, it made me at least) squirm with anticipation for the next label-filled scene.  As I tried to explain to my Big…the fashion and overall aesthetics created a rich subplot to the film that should not be ignored.

If anyone knows Carrie’s style, they know her for her use of flowers, be it rose print dresses or jeweled orchid accessories.  The beginning of the film you see her in this cream dress with a humongous embedded white and gold flower covering her chest and shoulder.  The dress is a little over the top as we know her to be, but also emblematic of the happiness and satisfaction that she feels at the beginning of the movie.  She has her Big, and all of her girls are happy and mated as well.  She is in full bloom.

But early in the film, Big breaks Carrie’s heart for what seems to be the last and worst time ever…and simultaneously her wardrobe is deflowered.  In the heart wrenching scene where Carrie attacks Big for his absence and her embarrassment, her beautiful bridal bouquet is destroyed.  This will be the last time we see Carrie with flowers until the very end when she and Big reconcile.  The day of their reunion Carrie is wearing a White jacket, that at first glance (or first movie viewing) looks like fur, but as the camera draws nearer we see that it is a collage of white fabric roses creating a puffy white bouquet, symbolically similar to the one that was destroyed when she and Big emotionally parted ways at the beginning of the film.  She and her ensemble have come full circle.

Now, my own Big, who is also a closet connoisseur of SATC, felt that the wardrobe in the film was overdone.  For instance, in the scene where Carrie jumps out of bed to subway across town and be with Miranda on New Year’s Eve.  She throws on heels, a sparkling sequined head cap, and a long chinchilla coat over her pjs.  I mean, I can see where the idea of “overdone” may ring true in this instance, but let’s not forget…it’s New Year’s Eve.  I think Carrie, you know the one that plays dress up in her own closet on the daily, is completely justified in throwing on a little flare on such a special holiday…staying in or not.  And, he says I’m reaching but, to me, the sequined cap symbolizes the big shiny Ball in Times Square that night.  So what all of their clothing wasn’t necessarily completely natural…either way I feel like their ensembles added to the overall aesthetics of the film giving underlying weight to key moments in the true language of SATC…couture.

On the downside, Parts of the plot, as well as the new character, present a number of issues for the film that may somewhat displease the hardcore SATC fan…but not enough to fully disappoint or to make you want to see the film any less than twice.  It starts off great.  I actually felt like I was settling down to watch a fun filled scandalous new episode of the show…just with about 100 more people in my living room.  But my own Big, (as you can see he’s a critic too…isn’t everybody) felt that Carrie’s character seemed to infuse too much of her witty journalism speech into her everyday conversations.  Like the moment at lunch with the girls, where Carrie desribes her and Big’s sex life by saying “he rarely colors inside the lines”.  This sounds like something tv show Carrie would have written rather than spoke aloud with her closest friends.  But this inconsistency I can understand being that the film undertakes the hard task of maintaining SATC authenticity through Carrie’s infectious wordplay, while having to utilize live dialogue and action in order to attain cinematic stature.

So what could be wrong with this film, you ask?  There are a number of hilarious moments such as Charlotte’s little accident or Miranda’s need for a trim…as well as deeply moving scenes like Carrie and Big’s short stint of public domestic violence.  And who can forget Charlotte’s face after she screams for Big to leave Carrie alone…ugh, Classic.  But as the movie progresses it unfortunately becomes pretty predictable.  Towards the end of the movie I felt like the director must have been just as tired and withdrawn as Carrie was  in those three scenes he chose to show her laying in bed, wallowing in over-elongated depression.  And the ending…come on now guys.  Of course she had to go and get the Manolo’s from the apartment, of course Big was going to be there…and we all know the rest (if you don’t please stop reading now, this blog is for true fans only).  But, what isn’t predictable is how bad Jennifer Hudson is for this movie.

Jennifer Hudson (aka Effie White in Dream Girls) is Carrie Bradshaw’s personal assistant.  Having an assistant…hmmm, seemingly out of character for naturally unorganized Carrie, but considering that she was an emotional wreck, dealing with relocation, book deadlines, and a new hair color…I guess she may have needed one.  But Jennifer doesn’t really do the trick.  Sure, she took loads of work off of Carrie’s designer draped shoulders, but it is the audience that has to bear the weight of her sub-par performance in this role.  She over-acts most of her scenes and maintains this wide-eyed bewildered look that appears completely unnatural.  Most of the time she is on the screen it feels forced, a feeling that I’ve never experienced when watching SATC.  It’s not that I have anything against Ms. Hudson or her acting capabilities (I LOVED her in Dream Girls)…but casting her in this film reminds me of what Carrie’s wedding planner said…”like trying to fit a cream puff through a key hole”.

Regardless of these few hangups, the film leaves a true SATC fanatic pretty much satisfied. So what the ending is predictable!  Do you think we’d actually feel better if Carrie and Big had broken up, or worse, he had died, like so many SATC theorists had mistakenly projected? No, we wanted this.  Just like we wanted Cinderella’s slipper to fit, we wanted Carrie’s Manolo stiletto to seal the deal between her and her own Prince Big…just admit it.  No, we didn’t want the over-acting assistant.  But yes, we love this movie.  And why, because the four women that we have grown to know, envy, and cherish,  have all ended up how we would like them to…well loved and more importantly, well dressed.  And besides, if I have to see one more movie with a juicy cliff-hanger ending, followed by a lackluster sequel…i’ll scream like Charlotte!

Myspace seems like a dark world of strangers clumped together in no particular order. It has millions of users and tons of applications, but the way in which this all appears on your computer screen is quite cluttered and irritating if you ask me. From the moment you sign on to Myspace there are about 9 to 10 ads that consume your computer screen. “Go see this Movie”, “Sexy Shirts for Sale”, “Want the Perfect Horoscope” all invade your space as you try to check up on your messages, friends, and most importantly your profile.

And speaking of profiles…okay fine, it’s MY space so I can do whatever I want to my page…this is great for some people. But I don’t think everyone deserves this right! Yeah sure, I’d like to see your page and what you have to say…but do I have to sit through the 10 minutes it takes for your profile to load because you have 150 pictures with people that no one knows, a dizzyingly obnoxious background of your name falling every 2 seconds in little letter rain drops, 50 random top friends that have not bestowed you with the same honor, and worst of all the most annoying song selection in the world that fittingly suits the overall annoying vibe of your page? UGHH!! But, I digress. So yes, if clutter, creeps, and chaos are what you’re looking for in a social internetwork…then Myspace is the Queen of the Night.

As a slightly newer large scale website, Facebook is the light I found after emerging from the Myspace tunnel. The entire website is bright, simple, and easy to navigate. The advertisements are reduced to 2-3in. almost unnoticeable boxes on the border of the page and rarely do they even move let alone encapsulate and hold hostage your entire screen for 60 secs. No, Facebook is all about the users comfort. The sight utilizes great security features, and best of all, it truly functions as a network.

On Myspace random strangers message me and invade my profile wall at their own discretion, often plowing through my security settings. On facebook I can choose to only interact with the people within my specific networks. For example, Oakland High School, UC Berkeley, San Francisco, CA, and Wells Fargo may be your 4 networks. This means that, if you want, only people within these networks can contact you, making it much easier to weed out the undesirables prowling the web. Call me bourgeoisie, but I like the fact that Facebook started as a site to connect and entertain college students, and not just any and everybody. The entire feel of the website has an air of academia…you know, like it’s for people who know how to put a sentence together.

But as smart as Facebook is, it does not lack in its fun and senseless social attractions. From the moment you sign on to Facebook you see a list of the most recent activities of your friends and others in your network. ‘Who changed their picture’, ‘Who broke up with who’, and my personal favorite, ‘Who changed their status’. Now, for all the Facebook virgins out there, your status is the one sentence personal statement that lives at the top of your page for however long until you wish to change it. “Joe is thinking about what happened last night, is it really over?” might be at the top of your friends page one minute…and then 5 mins. later you’ll get an update saying, “Joe is over it, she wasn’t worth my time”. As weird as it may sound, I think it’s fun (in a nosy invasive kind of way) to be constantly updated on the personal status of the people in your network, rather than having to look at the superficial Myspace headlines like “Pimping is Easy”.

And Facebook profile pages are the best. They remind me of those acne free commercials, you know…”Clean, Clear, and Under Control”. No, but seriously, even though you can rotate the location of your wall, pictures, applications,etc. Facebook has a standard background and style that makes everyone’s page seem neat and uniform. You do not have to strain to read someones font or search for the mute button for the music on their page. But as simple as the profiles are to view and navigate, they are not at all boring. Just try the “Honesty Box” on for size.

The “Honesty Box” is a Facebook application that is one of my very own guilty pleasures. This box lives on your profile page and your friends can write anything they want in it. All you are able to see is their note and the sex of the person who sent it. This is a perfect way to tell secrets without revealing your identity, and also a way to see that you have some “friends” that might need to be reclassified as enemies.

But the best part of Facebook has to be the pictures. I swear I have almost 1000 pictures on my profile, all viewable at the click of a button in chronological order. A little narcissistic you say? Why of course, but aren’t we all? Even better, the coolest thing about the pictures is the “tag” feature.

Okay, so you know that one concert that you went to, and you got to go backstage and take a picture with that one celebrity, but you didn’t have space on your camera, so your friend snapped the pic for you? Yeah, well now you will actually get to see that photo…you know, instead of waiting the 3-6 months it takes for friends to remember to email pictures to you. When any of your friends uploads a picture on Facebook to their albums they are able to “tag” you to it, adding it to your pictures automatically. I never knew how many pictures I ended up in until Facebook. Luckily you are able to untag the pics that are, let’s say, less than flattering.

But either way it goes, the photo capabilities of Facebook, along with all its other fabulous features, leaves Myspace…well…in the dark.