So sorry to keep you waiting for my movie review, my friends! I'm sure you were waiting with bated breath on Memorial Day for my terribly deep insights. Well, we were busy yesterday golfing, entertaining, and yelling at these blasted kids, and then today? I managed to get a flat tire. On the way home from the vet. Which meant I was stranded with four kids...and a DOG. And? I had left my cell phone at home. So of course I bothered PVT at work, but he doesn't answer a number he doesn't recognize, and he didn't recognize the Shell station number I was calling from. Fortunately I got his secretary to fetch him, and he came to rescue us and change the tire. PVT: yay! Me: lame!
So ANYHOO! I will admit that the second Sex and the City wasn't quite as good as the first. In the first movie, you really CARED about what was happening; you cared whether Carrie and Big were going to get married in the end or not. In the sequel, it was hard to care about Carrie's marital blahs, or Charlotte's tough life being a mother with a full time nanny. ?! Or Samantha's menopausal woes. Or whether the girls would have to fly back from Abu Dhabi to the States via coach. AAAHHH!
But that being said, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie (except for the awkward karoke scene and that crying baby. I wanted to do something for that baby!). I still wanted to be quaffing cocktails with the girls at some hip bistro. Mr. Big was as smooth and yummy as ever. The desert scenery was so lush and decadent I felt like I was with the girls tooling around in their Maybachs. The harem pants and caftans were ridiculous and gorgeous at the same time. Maybe SJP could design a funky maternity line inspired by the Abu Dhabi wardrobes...I'd wear it!
Well, I think I would. But never, ever after giving birth.