Remember when the affair between Carrie and Big in season 3 ended and for the rest of the series she kind of just drifted from first date to first date, back to Aidan, then to Berger and finally to the intolerable Russian whom she didn't even deign to call her boyfriend, just her lovah? I totally get that now. Where are the fireworks, people?
Sometimes I think, I'm 25 years old and I'm alone in Brooklyn. What the F is wrong with me? But then I calm myself down and realize that if you don't feel that "spark" with someone (what's the spark anyway? I think it's all based on pheromones and chemicals and shit we can't see) then why bother going thru the exhausting and time-devouring motions of dating.
In my favorite episode of Sex and the City, Carrie called Big "The Chrysler Building." I don't want to date anyone unless I can call him The Chrysler Building-- that glorious Art Deco beacon of man's awesomeness that penetrates the New York City sky-- and actually mean it.
