Blogging about Blogs

So blogging is huge. Maybe not all the time at this particular site (shared ownership=lessened culpability of not posting), but huge enough that UCB extension is offering classes on culture and technology of blogging.
Would you pay $625 for a one-day seminar on blogging fundamentals? Would the people who could afford to pay 625 on a blogging workshop rather than learn online even be the people that eventually blog? Blogging seems to take committment and dedication and time and curiousity. A certain scrappiness and self-starter quality in the person that drives them to post for all to see. There is no quick fix to being a blog master. Blog masters were born to be blog masters, in my opinion. Some people live and breathe their blogs. Like the guy they wrote an article about in the NY Times who has to keep up-to-date on all business related to TV News while going to college and if he doesn't post every half-hour or so, people call him on his cell phone. Or those Project Runway bloggers who have become best friends with all the former contestants. They found an opening and capitalized. Bloggers link and write and create worlds---if we were all so noble. I don't think you can buy that quality. at least not in a day.
Maybe if I knew more about blogs I could get Sarah's picture off the side bar and replace it with a photoshop'd version of all of us together. But then I'd have to learn more about photoshop.

It's the Commercial Season

Last night, when I should have been studying for my finals, I was watching TV. What else is new.

A commercial came on for Glade Trio candles and the pitch was that "ordinary scented candles can sometimes look too much alike" and the viewers are shown a depressed, frazzled-looking woman sitting at a table with three white candles. Then, flash to her home featuring the Glade Trio candles with three different colors of candle, and all the world's a dream. WHAT? Do they think that having too many white candles is a problem for people; that our holidays will be ruined or somehow tarnished if our candles look too much alike? What is wrong with simply portraying the Glade Trio candles as good-smelling, value-oriented holiday candles? I may have bought them then, but I certainly won't now. I refuse to buy into the message that the reason I need these candles is because my life has been so depressing because of my all-white candles.

This got me thinking about another old commercial. Remember the commercials for Pert Plus conditioning shampoo from the late 1980s? I was in elementary school, but I remember being fully convinced that Pert Plus was a brilliant idea-- combining shampoo and conditioner in the SAME BOTTLE! I mean, for me, it didn't matter that we had two bottles in the bathtub. But, the commercial portrayed adults at the gym or spa and what a pain in the ass it was to have to carry two whole bottles of hair products in your gym bag. I tried to imagine myself as an adult spending time at the spa and thought, yep, Pert Plus is right--I would be just as unhappy as these folks in the commercial if I had to carry both shampoo and conditioner with me. Good thing when I am a grown up I won't have to do that. (*Note: My thinking was errant in two fundamental ways: first, my hair needs a separate conditioner and second, I rarely go to the gym/spa.)

I've come a long way since the 1980s, but apparently the advertising agencies have not. They are still trying to trick me into thinking that normal things like hair conditioner and white candles are what are holding me back. I won't be fooled this time.

This Is Maturity

Thanksgiving eve found me at my parents' house (about a 45 minute drive west from where I grew up), in the room where I sleep when I go there, rummaging through this trunk of clothes my mom doesn't wear very often in search of a tshirt to wear to bed. I did find this thermal-type thing which did the job, but only after I found a video tape called "Great Sex After 40." There were at least two more tapes on the same topic, but I obviously recoiled from the trunk like you do when you touch something that's too hot or when you find a cockroach under the sink, so I don't have too many more details. I was a little horrified for a few minutes, but not as much as I would have thought I'd be. In fact, it's kind of nice to know that they have a sex life (or at least have had one at some point over the past 25 years--they've been over 40 my whole life), and that they've needed to seek outside assistance to improve it, not unlike some of us who struggle with dating and look to our friends and the internet for help. After a few glasses of wine at Thanksgiving dinner, I told my older brother about what I'd found, and he had a similar reaction--part of him wanted to go barf up his butternut squash soup, but part of him said "Huh, good for them." I decided to spare my younger brother at least until he moves out of the house.

True Change Comes From Within: Life Lessons from Britney Spears on Election Day

I know that it's election day and I should be sending out shocking news about the various propositions and candidates that the democratic party told me to vote for on my answering machine, and leaving all that is trivial for another day, but I'm sorry, I can't let this one go by.

I saw the headline just now on my office computer and inadvertently exclaimed very loudly "BRITNEY SPEARS FILES FOR DIVORCE? OH MY GOD!" which was so SO not the first impression I was going for with my new legal director in the office next to mine, whose laughter subsequently echoed through our hallowed halls.

but JESUS. Its like, I'd given up all hope. Britney was just so far gone I didn't think she could ever come back. But now, like Marlina on Days of Lives, she has risen again! Change can happen! ANOTHER WORLD IS POSSIBLE!! I'm now RUNNING, not walking, to my polling station and taking charge of my life, looking at the man in the mirror, just like Britney did. ENOUGH is ENOUGH!

URGENT: How do I get someone to vote tomorrow?

While law school has ironically kept me from being as active in the "get out the vote" movement as I would like to be, I have taken it upon myself to call every person on my cell phone list who is eligible to vote and if I have doubts about their motivation to vote (If you have not received a call, it's because I know you would never miss a chance to vote).

I just got off the phone with my cousin who is an Iraq vet. He told me he will probably not vote.

1st Excuse: He's not registered.
My answer: Doesn't matter. Minnesota has same-day registration.

2nd Excuse: He doesn't know where to go to vote:
My answer: I anticipated this, so I looked it up for him and I mapquested it. It is exactly .2 miles from his house. I gave him the address.

3rd Excuse: He doesn't know who to vote for and doesn't know who the candidates are.

This one I found a little harder to answer. First, I find it strange he doesn't know ANYTHING about the candidates because of the bombardment of ads all over the TV. Second, when my call is to just make sure he exercises his right to vote, is it appropriate to plug my candidates and tell him the RNC is evil? Third, is it dirty to remind him he fought for people's freedom and the fundamental right of voting (think Iraqi fingers dipped in ink) and that he might be a hypocrite to not exercise his own right to vote?

He is still not sure if he will vote. We are supposed to have another phone conference later this afternoon and it will be my last chance to convince him to vote tomorrow. Please post your thoughts on tactics to persuade him that he MUST vote, even if he's not sure who the best candidate is.

The Fool's Gold-en Rule

As most of you know, I am in my third and final year of law school. It has, for the most part, been a rich and stimulating experience with (mostly) smart and respectable people. Sometimes things happen, though, that make me embarassed to be part of this profession and afraid for the future of law and lawyerdom.

In several of my classes throughout these three years, professors have taken time to instruct us how to not be assholes when we become attorneys. Examples include:

• "If someone shows up 5 minutes late to a deposition, you don't need to report it to the judge, reschedule, and charge your opponent for costs. We've all been 5 minutes late."
• "When negotiating with prosecutors, don't accuse them of personally detesting the Constitution. They are just doing their jobs and most of them are perfectly lovely people. "
• In drafting interrogatories, don't use unnecessarily obtuse language or complex sentence structure. Think of interrogatories YOU have to answer and how you would like them to be worded. "

To me, these all seems to be variations of "treat others the way you would like to be treated" a/k/a The Golden Rule. Didn't we learn this in pre-school? Or at HOME as toddlers? Sure, a friendly reminder will do now and again, but I find it sad that law professors know they need to devote substantial time to reminding professional students and soon-to-be officers of the courts of this country to treat each other with basic human decency and respect.

I realize that this post may invite a plethora of lawyer jokes, but remember who our administrator is. The lawerly-inclined on this forum would never make jokes about your chosen profession. We learned the Golden Rule at about the same time we learned to brush our teeth, despite what my law school professors would have you think.

a thermos and nalgene crowd

I arrived at a potluck this week with two liter bottles of soda and yellow plastic cups. Coke and Sprite. I considered purchasing diet (that would've been my choice) but figured more people like regular. I wasn't the only one to bring soda to this gathering of documentary students. But the other person purchased Moxie (a local cola) and rasberry ginger ale. Not a single person drank my offering. And it's not like there was beer or anything. I left with both bottles unopened. I just took a couple of swigs from the neon green bottle and thought I'd write to all of you. Do you not drink soda? Am I living in the past? Do your social groups drink it? I'm just curious.

How did you spend your Thursday nights in 1990?

This is it, folks. Finally. If you don't already know, I am thrilled to be the first to tell you that the 1st season of 90210 is being released on DVD on November 7th, 2006. We have waited years and years. I cannot account for the timing but for that Aaron Spelling no longer around (RIP) to object to its release due to his embarassment that his dear Tori played the ditzy virgin. But, it matters not.

What counts is that just in time for the season in which no person in their right mind would go outside for more than 5 minutes because of sub-zero temperatures and massive snow drifts, we have some old friends to catch up with. I have already pre-ordered my copy and I encourage you do the same.

Also, if I don't return phonecalls between November 7th and 2007, you'll understand why. Dylan McKay and I will be cuddled up by the fire, reliving those Thursday nights from so many years ago.

Cheap Bastard Mixology

I came home the other night after a long day and my new roommate was on the couch drinking a 40 of Old E, which is my brand of choice. I had a lovely trader joes salad that i was going to eat so i opted for wine instead. but then sitting there waiting for America's Next Top Model to come on, i was like 'damn. that looks good. i want that instead."
and he said, "you could have both?"
and i said "together?"
and he said "yeah. you should drink them both at the same time."
and i said "i will if you will"
and he said "ok" (thinking that i was not serious and that it wasn't physically possible)
but oh, OH was he wrong. I grabbed two straws and and a 40 (ok, really it was a 24oz, but whatever) and the dare was ON.

we were shocked. SHOCKED i tell you.
somehow it was the best of both worlds. i'm a cheap bastard these days so it was crappy wine, and i dare say the combination improved both of them.

so RUN, dont walk, to your local corner store and live it up!

ANTM

Just so we're clear, I can count the number of episodes of America's Next Top Model that I've ever seen on one hand. Tonight I saw maybe the last 20 minutes of the season premiere and am hoping someone else here saw it too. When the judges were critiquing the very striking Anchal, were they for real in deferring to the comments of Nigel Barker because "we're both Indian"? His bio on the website says he was born in London and educated in the English countryside, and mentions that "his background...brings a unique sensitivity to the relationships he forms with his subjects," but that's all. If you were Anchal, would you be offended at Nigel's giving you modeling advice from a fellow Indian's perspective, seeing as how he is a) a man and b) white? I know there are some ANTM experts in the crowd so please come forward!

It's not just that I lost, it's that she won.

Yesterday I received an official rejection from a clerkship that I had allowed myself to really, really want. I already knew that I was not going to be chosen, as the window for a positive outcome had passed, but the rejection letter was the final nail, as it were. This clerkship was a long shot, and I perhaps should not have raised my hopes, but once I was chosen for an interview, I started to think, "maybe, just maybe, I can get this." Naturally, I am disappointed.

Worse, though, than being rejected, is that I have firsthand knowledge (via eavesdropping) that a person I truly detest was choses for one of these coveted clerkships. She is the kind of person that is a "close aquaintance" -- I have shared pitchers of beer with her in a small group. Yet, everytime I see her, she obviously and purposely ignores me. She is the sort of girl I disliked and distrusted in high school, and apparently whose high-school-like personality outlasts the Danceline trophies.

While the sting of rejection has already begun to fade, I am left with a bad taste in my mouth. I am not so concerned with bad things happening to good people. I think that is inevitable. What I find so infuriating is when good things happen to bad people -- more specifically, I do not understand how smart people in respectable positions can be tricked into thinking that snide, stupid, immature, and unkind people are the best choice for a job/clerkship/relationship. I have seen several instances of this phenomenon throughout the years, but this time it has really hit home.

Call me petty or jealous. Maybe that's part of it. But, it's also something more than that. It's a fundamental disappointment that even the brightest and most respectable people can be fooled into choosing bad people for good things.

Of course, one boy in my high school "Theory of Knowledge" class said that bad things only happen to bad people. Maybe I am bad for not sending best wishes to my secret nemesis. But I didn't think that kid in high school was right back then and I don't think he's right now. Bad things happen to good people. And more often than I like, good things happen to bad people.

A question re: Fancy Jeans...

So I've had this pair of Citizens jeans for maybe a year and a half. I love them, they are perfect for any occasion... which is good because they're also the any pair I like. Anyway, I bought them on ebay for something like $80, retail value, maybe $140... they developed a hole in the crotch, I sent them off to aforementioned jean-fixers in New York... and I just learned that I'll be $65 to fix them. $53 for repair, $12 for shipping. This is an irksome figure for a few reasons: a) that's a lot of money and almost as much as I paid for them. b) It only cost me $5.20 to send them to New York.
So, the question is whether I, a) pay $65 and get them back. b) try to find another pair on ebay, risking not finding as good a pair and then, do I pay the $12 to get the old ones back, even though they're unwearable... or do I let them go? This may not be a problem boys understand, but I'm hoping the ladies will...
Also note, I am a student again and living on loans....

Thank you.

Size Does Matter

I can't imagine what life would be like if I hadn't gone to Wesleyan, and I consider it the best decision I have ever made (with the possible exception of putting an end to my days of blowdrying my hair and choosing the cello over the violin in third grade). But I've always loved Wesleyan for the friends I made there, and thought that I could take or leave most other aspects of it. Now that I am beginning grad school at an enormous university, I love Wesleyan even more because of its size. I really can't remember ever being completely confused as to how to get information, or waiting on a line for more than 15 minutes that wasn't for food or for cheap beer at frats before it was outlawed, or reading through a list of events and not being sure which ones applied to me. I took for granted how easy it was to get answers to questions and how comforting to look around at your fellow students and feel like everyone was there for similar reasons and could probably relate in some way to your individual experience of the college. I'm 25 now and have been perfectly capable so far of navigating the NYU wilderness, but can you imagine being 18 and coming to a college that is like a city within a city? I think everyone who contributes to this blog went to a small school too, but maybe you have a better imagination than I do.

Buying Fancy Jeans

Remember when jeans cost like $30 and shirts were like 15? Yeah me too. Those were the days. Especially since my mom was paying for everything anyway. It seemed like just when I was beginning to take over financial responsibility for my wardrobe, clothing prices started going insane. But at that point, ‘insane’ was like $65-80 for a pair of jeans. Those were splurge prices. Now they’re a good deal. And then a couple years ago, the $100-200 jean wave began. At first it seemed so outrageous and beyond comprehension that I assumed it was just a trend and everyone would come to their senses, or if it continued it would really only affect the very wealthy or the very shallow. But now, most people don't bat an eyelash!

Ok fine, I’ll stop the bullshit. I’m sitting here trying to contextualize and intellectualize why its ok that I just spent over $150 on a pair of jeans but there’s really no way around it. I did it. I totally gave into expensive jeans. I may pair them with my Mossimo pleather heals from Target and an H&M sales rack shirt but they are still really just a lot. Plus: its not like i'm running with a fancy crowd. I work at a nonprofit in a land of hippies. None of my friends would give a crap if I stopped wearing pants altogether. brands like rock and republic or joes jeans don’t make their hearts go a twitter. In fact, I’m hoping we can keep this little purchase just between you and me, because honestly, I’m going to lose a lot of credibility with the majority of my social group if word gets out that I succumbed to the almighty power of magazine and celebrity-approved attire for the price of a plane ticket to NY.

But I can’t hide who I am. The truth is, I read celebrity blogs every day and then when i'm really bored, i read the news. but in that order, not the other way around. I have a general idea of whats going on, but i can't wax poetic on the state of Lebanon today like i can about Lindsay or Nicole. I’m not incapable – there was a time when I was all about the information and the politicking. And its not like I have no soul - I work for an amazing legal aid place doing awesome things and I hope to someday change the world. I guess it’s just that deep down, when I picture changing the world, I’m Katherine Hepburn meets Angelina Jolie meets Cameron Diaz.

But going back to the jeans, I want to be clear: I am not looking for forgiveness or pity. You know why? Because holy crap I love these jeans! they're the best jeans i've ever owned! I want to wear them everywhere all the time. and you know what? I will! which means, if you break it down, that i'll really only be spending like 25 cents a day on my jeans. which is a damn good price! because I get dressed in the morning and I go through the rigmarole of looking into my closet for other pants to wear but the truth is, as far as I’m concerned, there are no other pants for me. I’m a one-pant kind of girl and I guess I’m ready to stop playing the field and really take stock of my needs and my desires and settle down with a pair that will treat me right, and make me feel good about myself, and flatter me, and make me smile. We’re going to have a beautiful life together.

Watching TV in bed

As some of you might know, I just moved into a new apartment. I'm in a new city, I know 3 people in town and I'm living by myself. So many things are new these days and I'm kind of in a personal test of how I want to live. I've noticed some things about myself-- I apparently don't eat or shower when I'm at home with no chance of interpersonal contact... I do drink coffee, which usually leads to eating since coffee on an empty stomach makes it hurt. I also have delighted in watching TV in bed. I never thought of myself as this kind of person, but literally the first thing I did when left to my own devices was purchase a television. And then I set it up in my bedroom (not, I think, it's ultimate resting place, but....) and proceeded to watch 6 episodes of "Weeds" while lolling in bed. Tonight I am on my second episode of "24" from the comfort of bed... I think this is the ultimate luxury of the early 21st century and the realization of a lifelong dream. Obviously I was never allowed to have a TV in my room when I lived at home... so when purchasing a computer one of the major draws was being able to watch movies in bed. So here it is, internet, I am someone who needs a TV and goddamnit, I want to lie in bed and be entertained. Is that so wrong? No, I just like it so very much and it makes me feel young and American and free. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Isn't Gatsby Great?!?

By: Kristina and Sarah. Drafted in Minneapolis on August 12, 2006.

Last week we attended the world premiere stage adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's pinnacle novel, The Great Gatsby, at the new Guthrie-- arguably the Twin Cities' most beloved theater. The play reminded us of our shared intimate relationship with the work. However, as the play progressed, we realized that although each of us consider it one of our favorite books, we didn't remember the story. We were stuck on motif, symbolism, and metaphor. Although we could anticipate and recite "key passages" in our minds, we didn't know what would happen next in the plot.

Our familiarity with the literary devices in The Greaty Gatsby was born in our 11th grade English class. Our teacher, Ms. Sexton, considered it the Great American Novel. We graduated from high school with the understanding that no one should be allowed to graduate high school without having studied the book--and in turn, obviously, loved it.

Once we left F. Scott's home state for our respective coastal collegiate enterprises, we were surprised to learn how many "smart" people have never read The Great Gatsby. For our friends, Last Stand at the Alamo, The Biography of Bruce Springsteen, and Starbucks: A Corporate History seemed to to have been graduation requirements.

Did you read The Great Gatsby? Did you love it? Do you consider it The Great American Novel and F. Scott the 20th century's Shakespeare? If not, what do you think is so good?

Maybe this is a little callous...

But looking at what has been confiscated at airports recently... it makes me once again glad, that no matter how good aveda smells, I opt for the Suave impersonations of designer shampoo. Um, can anyone say "midterm elections."

25 going on 15... and 45.

When did this happen? In May after discovering that my mother had been contemplating plastic surgery, I meditated, both in my head and out loud to some WEDYHTD contributors, about how foreign the phenomenon of aging was to me. I didn’t understand it, I am young and changes in my face and body still feel like part of growth into, who I’ll ultimately be, as opposed to a decline from who I was.
Later in the month, I turned 25 and I welcomed the flip of the calendar. Twenty five felt right, it was maturation without turning “old.” Obviously 25 isn’t old, Mid-twenties was solidly upon me and I felt fine about it.
I spent a good deal of time traveling with my 15 yr old sister in June and July and while, granted, she looks older than 15, somehow this lead people we met to think I was much younger than 25. This frustrated me. I think because I equate age with progress. So much has happened since I was fifteen, there is a world of difference between the summer after freshman year in high school and… now. I’ve lived halfway across the country from where I grew up for seven years. I’ve traveled to five continents since I was fifteen, I’ve developed talents and vices and a sense of self and confidence and direction and... I'm about to start PROFESSIONAL SCHOOL for christ's sake… being mistaken for younger than I am seems to somehow diminish the importance of what has transpired since that age.
At the same time, my sister at some point decided on this trip that calling me “old” was really the way get my goat. And while my goat wasn’t actually got (hopefully wit is something she’ll develop in college,) what stuck was that she grouped me with “adults.” Whether they’re 25 or 45 or 72, adults don’t like to be called old.
And since I’ve returned I’ve been feeling rather old. It’s not just visiting the babies of friends, or the babies of 17yr olds I’ve known since they were born… but it’s accidentally buying facial cleanser for “maturing skin” and then realizing maybe it’s not such a bad idea. It’s realizing I’d better grow my hair out now, because I don’t have too long until it’ll be tacky. It’s seeing where the wrinkles will be and looking at pictures of friends and seeing their age, not that they just don’t look like kids anymore, but they look older than they did when they stopped looking like kids. It’s worrying about something like cholesterol, a diet and lifestyle change that doesn’t have to do with vanity but with evading a stroke? This is old people stuff.
But this, I think, is the nature of the age. And it needs its own term, At twenty five, car insurance premiums go down. And at twenty-six, health insurance premiums go up. We’re in this strange limbo where we’re seeing the beginnings of wrinkles while worrying about the recurrence of pimples.

More Thoughts on Digestion

Unless the free samples are out, I generally try to steer clear of Whole Foods. It not just their prices, it the desire they inspire. I’m not someone who generally treats their body all that well – the fact that I pretty much live on sugarfree coffeemate is testament to this – but the danger of Whole Foods is that they make it look so good and fancy and lovely that I walk in there and in the course of 3 minutes I’ve decided to completely turn my life around, eat only organic meats and vegetables, remove all wheat, dairy, gluten, sugar, preservative, etc. from my diet, start using the keeper and buy only chemical free cleaning products. Its trouble.

Last night I was feeling sad and bored so I got in the car and went to Yogurt Park and got a huge container of sugar free frozen yogurt and ate it in record time. I contemplated going back for more, but somehow that seemed too embarrassing. So I actually decided to go to the frozen yogurt store in the next town. I know, I have problem. I’m well aware. But on my way, as I was thinking, ‘Oy, I love this frozen yogurt but it sure makes me feel like crap sometimes’, I passed a whole foods, set back from the street in a tree lined parking lot, glowing warmly with recycled lightbulbs no doubt, hippies swarming.
And I thought, ‘No lily. No. you are poor and you cannot afford to walk in there.’ But I was still sad and bored and had nothing to do, so I parked and went in.
I walked out an hour later having spent literally $100 on a single bag of groceries, but I have a really good excuse this time: vitamins.

Not just any vitamins – no no – food-based vitamins.

I went to the vitamin isle with a question about enzymes. Because my coworker told me that apparently there’s no point in taking lots of multi-vitamins because unless you take special enzymes along with it, you don’t break them down and just poo them out unabsorbed and I wanted to know if that was true.

“Bingo”, said the vitamin guy (really, he did), “but in addition, it’s really important what vitamins you take, because unless you take food-based vitamins, your body has a really hard time digesting any of it.”

“Oh”, I said, “So then its probably not so good that I take Walgreen’s brand vitamins, huh.”

And he laughed and said, “I have a funny story for you:

Recently there was a story in the news about a sewage plan that was on the verge of flooding and totally clogged. What they found upon investigation, was that there were literally thousands and thousands of multivitamins clogging up the place. Whole vitamins. That had passed through the city’s citizens WHOLE and then passed through the treatment plant WHOLE and eventually had collected and clogged up the final stage of the treatment system. Which is both gross and alarming. Basically an entire city full of people were spending like $50 a bottle on Centrum silver and whatnot and just pooing them out without making a dent in them. We’ve been literally shitting away our money! And I just bought a new bottle a couple weeks ago!

But whatever, I’m a sucker so I bought the fancy vitamins as well as the fancy enzymes to help break them down.
Also some milk thistle and some frozen wheat grass and a bottle of kombucha tea, in case anyone was wondering what the hell ended up being $100.

Today, just to make sure I wasn’t completely swindled, I googled it. And its true!

The morals here are plentiful:

Never ever go into whole foods when you’re feeling sad.
Throw out your crappy multivitamins and switch to food-based vitamins immediately.
Buy some digestive enzymes while you’re at it.

Also: Kombucha, while incredibly good for you, tastes HORRIBLE. Just so you know.

The end.

Screwed and the City

Now that my finals are over, I have ample time to indulge in TV re-runs. This is a good thing. Usually. Last night, on the WB, was the final episode of one of my staples, Sex and the City. I am admittedly addicted to this show and own all seasons (except season 5, which sucked) on DVD. I am aware that the final episode is 41+ minutes long and as such, the WB would be cutting major chunks of the show for network broadcast.

Let me tell you: the WB slaughtered the final episode and robbed newcomers to Sex and the City fanaticism of how truly great the last episode was. As I watched, I kept thinking, those poor viewers without HBO or DVD access to the final episode are missing so many of the really important parts of the finale!

Among the moments that WB edited out:

- Carrie losing and finding her "Carrie" necklace, a major metaphor for losing herself and re-finding herself.
-Carrie's long, lonesome walk through Paris, including being hit on the head by a little boy and stepping in dog shit.
-Miranda bathing Steve's Alzheimer-stricken mother.
-Magda telling Miranda "what you did, that is love. You love."
- Carrie's last monologue about different kinds of relationships -- including scenes of Samantha and Smith back to the banging, Miranda and family at home in Brooklyn, and Charlotte and Harry walking the dogs.
-Mr. Big calling Carrie to tell him the house in Napa is on the market.
-The cell phone displaying Mr. Big's real name, John.

These are crucial moments in what I consider a crucial show. You may think it is creepy that I am so familiar with these scenes that I am able to recognize their ommission and quote lines from them. However, I see this as fulfilling a duty to the deprived, WB-watching, Sex and the City-liking (if the loved it, they'd have the DVDs) public. If just one person that has only seen the WB version of the Sex and the City finale reads this entry and is convinced that the REAL finale is worth renting, my work is done.

Shame on you, WB. Shame. Shame. That is no way to reward viewers who have jumped on the syndicated Sex and the City bandwagon.