porn, porn, porn

Ok, just one more post for this week, and then I'm putting on the virtual handcuffs -- I went to see Sex & the City last night, joining the biggest movie mob scene I can remember since the early Star Trek openings, and, yep, there was a lotta, lotta porn -- heavy doses of the traditional kind, about which I'll say no more than "Dante," combined with fashion-porn, and even closet-porn -- but underlying it all, and of course the reason both the TV show (which I never really watched much) (honest!) and this film have been so popular, is what boils down to friendship porn. Like who among us these days has anywhere near the kind of relationship portrayed in that wonderful scene where Carrie Bradshaw traipses across a snowy Manhattan on New Year's Eve to share Chinese food with her lonely single friend? It made me blue -- until I realized, with deep gratitude, that I was sitting with a group of seven increasingly exceptional friends, members of my writing group, North 24th, who thanks to a series of small miracles (we numbered 7 mothers and 1 doctor in the middle of a 12-day grueling schedule) honored a pledge to each other to stay out late on a Sunday night, even without the blue jeweled Manolos...