Just fabulous

I know, it's been a long time.

I saw the series finale of Sex and the City tonight. For you non-fans, it aired about 3 years ago. I watched it at Anh's apartment in Bayonne, where she lived before she moved 3 miles away from me. Liana and her sister Thea were with me. Anh made quite the spread, naturally.

Anyway, what continues to amaze me about the finale is that it still makes me cry. I have heard complaints about it from critics and fans that it was not realistic - that part of what made Sex and the City a great show was that it realistically represented the reality of the single life, with all its depressing pock marks. First off, I disagree - to me, the real point of Sex was that it was the truest representation on television of female friendships. I have told the men in my life in the past that if they really want to get female friendships, they should watch Sex and the City. Yes, it's true that like the Golden Girls, the Sex and the City women represented archetypes. However, the bonds, the arguments, the differences that these women had with each other were all true. While none of us are entirely "a Charlotte" or "a Samantha," we have all shared a bond like that of Miranda and Carrie, or we have all felt irritation with a friend like Charlotte and Carrie in the "Ring a Ding Ding" episode (a personal favorite, because it's all about expectations and the meaning of friendship... and fyi, season 4 in general might be the best of Sex - "My Motherboard, Myself," "The Real Me," "A Vogue Idea" though Season 6 does have its moments: "The Catch" and "A Woman's Right to Shoes").

But this is besides the point. Why is it okay for Big, at the end of six seasons, to tell Carrie that she is the one? Because Carrie is our friend. And we all want the best for our friends, not reality. Reality is something we save for ourselves. I am the truest recipient of that knowledge. I have, for the most part, had a terrible year - I lost my mom who was my best friend. Add to that a job I hate and the usual confusion about the direction of my life. Then I thought I might be dying. No, seriously. I had this symptom, and while it could have been nothing, it could also have meant I was dying. I found out today that I'm not dying. I am just fine. But in those two months where I wondered and had tests, I listened to my friends, in varying degrees, hope for the very best - from those who insisted it was nothing like my dad was paying them to do it (thanks, Wendy) to those who were a little more retiscent. We don't think about realism for our friends, we think about what we want for them. And after six seasons of watching poor Carrie lay it all out for us, we wanted her to find her one.

And while I'm glad Carrie finally got Big to admit that she is his one and only (and even more importantly, as he told her three best friends, "You three are the loves of her life, and a guy can only hope to come in fourth.") I must admit I miss her.

I've got a sweet love hangover, and I don't need no cure

Okay, so actually it was influenza and a cure would have been swell. Monday, late afternoon, while sitting in my shitty, windowless office, my back started to really hurt and I felt feverish. Also, I had been crying at really stupid stuff, which happens when I start running a temperature. The last time I had the flu, I started crying because I became convinced that I had a leg infection, they would have to amputate my leg, and no one could ever love someone with a stump. Yeah. What do you want? I was delirious!

So I was out of work for two days. I wish I could say it was all fun and games, but the first day was mostly spent sleeping, whining to Abbott about how much my back hurt, and feeling massively guilty about missing work. On the second day, my Battlestar Galactica DVD came from Netflix, and that's when life drastically improved.

Back in the day when Kate had cable, she would watch the new shows and tell me what was worth watching. Thanks to Kate, I watched West Wing and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, two favorites from my college years. Kate no longer has cable, but does have a Netflix subscription, and she probably watches more TV now than she did when she had cable. Anyway, thanks to Netflix, Kate has started watching some of the shows that I recommended. But it's a two way street and I knew I couldn't keep getting her to watch my stuff if I didn't watch some of her's.

She had been pushing BSG (the new version, for the record, not the 1978 version) for awhile, but finally piqued my interest when she said, "Bart loves it and you know he hates sci-fi!" It's true. I hadn't really trusted Kate on BSG because she's also a Star Trek fan and I hate that shit. She assured me that it wasn't a normal science fiction show - sure it took place in outer space and there were robots and stuff, but really, it was more political, religious and social commentary with some really exciting espionage and good character development.

The premise - in some distant galaxy, there are the 12 colonies of man. (The number 12 is very important on the show, and yes, it is most certainly related to the bible). Man creates these robots with artificial intelligence called the Cylons (they look like giant toasters with legs). So at this point, very sci-fi and very Isaac Asimov. One day the Cylons rise against their masters, and there's bloody war, until an armistice is declared. The Cylons go off to find their own home and no one on the colonies sees or hears from them for over 40 years. Then one day they return, launch a massive attack on the colonies and pretty much kill all but 50,000 people, who escape into space. The Cylons, fyi, still look like toasters, but they also have managed to make models that look just like humans. And they have an eeeeevil and diabolical plan for the humans who escaped. It's all very exciting.

Unfortunately, the show starts with a miniseries, which Kate had told me, and I had forgotten. But I hadn't ordered to miniseries. I ordered the start of the regular series. So I was pretty confused. Regardless, the show is a good time. As the New Yorker review stated: "But what interests people who normally don’t care about science fiction is how timely and resonant the show is, bringing into play religion and religious fanaticism, global politics, terrorism, and questions about what it means to be human."

As for my love hangover, it's all for Captain Lee "Apollo" Adama. He's dreamy and he defends democracy!

The Valley Ain't So Bad

Please consider this a joint Deadwood, Entourage post.

So, after last week's Deadwood, I was a little nervous - had the show lost its edge? It felt like a set-up episode and it was nowhere near as strong as "A Lie Agreed Upon," which kicked off season 2. My fears were totally allayed by this ep - strong characterization, humor, advancement of the plot, intrigue - everything an episode of Deadwood should have and I was reminded of why I think this is hands down, the best show on television. At Kate's wedding, her co-worker Matt and I stood around talking about the greatness of Deadwood and I am fully prepared again to throw my allegiance behind it.

I love the addition of Gerald McRaney (Major Dad) as Hearst - the new camp villain. I was completely taken by surprise when his sidekick Captain Turner grabbed Al from behind and Hearst stapped Al in the hand with a hammer!!! Unbelievable! And what did I love more than that? Bullock offering to go up and "finish the cocksucker off" right then and there. Who would have thought last March that we would see a Bullock/Swearengen alliance?

As always, we can count on Charlie Utter to spell out the episode's theme. The ep was called "I'm Not the Fine Man You Take Me For." While Charlie and Joanie stand outside the Ellsworth house, Charlie listen to Joanie beat up on herself and recounts how, despite the fact that Wild Bill was his dearest friend with a true and kind spirit, Bill himself had a tendency to believe he was a bad person. I found this scene especially touching, if only because of a) the closeness with which Charlie still carries Bill's memory and b) because I know I myself have had similar conversations with friends. Tonight, some of the people of Deadwood with good hearts doubt themselves (except for Sol Star who is adorable as ever). And I liked how Jane's story about the alleged hero Custer plays into this theme as well.

There is a flip side to the episode's title as well - George Hearst may have seemd innocuous at the end of last season and the premier last week, but he is most certainly not the fine man we might have taken him for. I am really looking forward to seeing how this unravels.

And can I admit something somewhat shameful? I am so pleased that Bullock is being a little less of a tool this season. And good work to Timothy Olyphant for managing to show that while he has committed himself to his wife, Bullock has not lost his love for the widow Alma. The scene where Bullock asked Charlie to watch over the Ellsworth house and find out how Alma does in surgery - surprisingly touching.

On to Entourage. While Deadwood may be the best rounded show, Entourage is decidedly the most fun to watch. Loved the references to Almost Famous, and as ever, Johnny Drama made me laugh out loud more than once. I love how this show manages to make you root for people with whom you have nothing in common. Vince continues to grow on me, and I am always secretly touched by how Vince and Eric's friendship reminds me of Kate and myself (as for who is E and who is Vince, it changes every episode). And while Ari is a scene stealer and I love him, I really don't think this show would be half of what it is without Kevin Dillon's Johnny Drama. A review I once read pointed out that he clearly bring a little self-knowledge to the role considering he is Matt Dillon's less famous brother.

HBO, you are my summertime television savior. Thank you.

Tyra Banks continues to kill my brain cells

This evening I went over to Anhabelle's house to visit his highness, Benjamino, eat corn dogs and tater tots, and of course, watch one of the white trashier shows on television (to accompany the whiskey tango buffet Anh prepared) - America's Next Top Model. Class. ee.

I should also add that we drank Hawaiian Punch (delicious) and ate jello with waaaay too much cool whip for dessert.

In any event, Mr. Ben is definitely outgrowing his Baby Pterodactyl ways - he chatters a lot and enjoys giggling, especially when he gets some of Aunt Megs' hair in his tight little grasp. We had fun.

Back to ANTM. To the right is Danielle, otherwise known as Anh's and my current favorite. This picture is from last week, but Danielle continues to win me over with her Arkansas accent, funny comments, and let's face it, the girl is hella photogenic. Go Danielle! Mostly, though, I think that Anh and I were delighted that Gina, with her nasally, on-the-verge-of-tears voice finally got the boot this week. Good riddance. Now we can all go back to hating on Jade.