Goddess, I Am.

I know I promised a Sex and the City 2 review, but this post is already so belated and the movie has already been reviewed to death, so I’m going to make this quick(ish). It goes without saying that I love, love, loved it, despite all the criticisms. But then, I’m very much biased; these girls are so much a part of my life that I would love them, no matter what, so if you’re looking for an impartial review, be warned that you won’t find it here.

First thing’s first: Carrie’s Mac is still very much present. It’s the exact same pre-unibody Macbook Pro that she had in Sex and the City: The Movie, so I’m a happy camper. Not only that, Charlotte’s iPhone figured quite prominently throughout the movie, too. The only HPs I spotted on the movie were Samantha’s, and none of them got enough screen time to offend this Apple fan girl, so, no, I didn’t spontaneously combust with rage or anything like that.

There were so many things that I loved about the movie (and I’m not talking about the clothes because that already goes without saying), but what I probably loved most were – to name just a few – Charlotte’s bra-less nanny angle; the delightfully gay choir at the wedding (whose, you’ll have to see for yourself); Miranda’s huge career leap; the hormone and testosterone booster-filled Samantha’s Lawrence of My Labia joke; Aidan; the attempt to encourage – or at least, imply – women empowerment in the Middle East; and Carrie and Big’s Mr. and Mrs. Married dilemma.

The last one hits particularly close to home as I am deathly afraid that The Husband and I will turn into an old, boring married couple before we know it because really, it does get to be a bit of a chore to get off the couch and leave the house sometimes. Not only that, I love how Carrie and Big have zero plans of having children because – guess what? – so do we! And it annoys us to death when people start tutting about it – but that’s another story.

Anyhow, it always feels good to relate to Carrie, and this time around is no exception. And how Mr. Big-like is The Husband, whose very existence seems to revolve around his TV (apart from me, of course)? But mind you, there will be no gallivanting with an ‘Aidan’ for me because all my ex’s are much too icky for words. I’m perfectly happy with my Mr. Big, scary attachment to the TV notwithstanding.

Of course, it wasn’t a perfect movie. There were some off moments, but very, very few, in my opinion. And the girls, although older, still look incredibly fabulous – probably even better than most women my age. The whole Middle East thing didn’t quite work for me, however, because I really do not care for that part of the world and its inhabitants very much (let’s leave it at that). I still would’ve preferred more of New York, especially more of Carrie and Big’s fabulous new apartment. But it was still a hell of a lot of fun, and I really cannot wait to see it again! I plan on seeing it a couple more times at the cinema, and of course, buying the Blu-ray the moment it comes out. It would be fantastic to see it uncut; I’m quite annoyed at how the movie has been clearly butchered to give it an R-13 rating. Shame on you, MTRCB.

I don’t know if they’ll ever make a third Sex and the City movie, and I think even they don’t know, either. If they do, I will be ecstatic. I will be right there, front and center on the very first day of screening to see my girls again. If they don’t, it’s okay, too. I will be content to imagine that Carrie and the girls all lived happily ever after. That we all will.

What a full, full day this was – and it’s not even over yet! At least, not for me. It’s nearly two three AM, and I’m still slaving away, trying to meet a deadline that shouldn’t even have been there. That’s the result of me biting off more than I could chew yet again. And yes, I’m whining.

Still, it was a good day. I got a lot of work done, I went to yoga class, and I did something that I’ve been meaning to do for a long, long time: I made up with my grandparents. I’m not going to go into the nitty-gritty right now because I really, really just want to put the whole thing behind me, but to make a long story short, I was disowned (pretty much) nearly 3 years ago. I was the favorite grandchild, being the eldest, and I guess they had high expectations for me. I suppose it was a bit of a nasty blow to them that I didn’t grow up the way they wanted me to, but then, I had to live my own life. And I didn’t turn out so bad, didn’t I?

Anyhow, I’m not one to bear grudges, and really, life is too short to be estranged from the people you love, so today, on my grandma’s birthday, my sister and I paid them a visit with my nephew in tow. They’ve never seen Xabier before, and I must say he made a handy ice breaker. I had a nice, long cry, too – something I didn’t really expect.

Grandma and I, Exactly 3 years ago, the day before I moved to Thailand

My relationship from my grandparents now is still a long way from what it was before, but I’m cool with that. I’ve extended the olive branch (gosh, how Roman does that sound?), and it feels so darned good. That’s one less thing weighing on my conscience, one less thing to keep me awake at night. Who knew swallowing one’s pride could feel so good?

That’s just something I needed to get off my chest, while I took a break from writing about cheap insurance companies.

I watched Sex and the City 2 tonight with The Mum, The Sister, and The Best Friend, and I must say it was everything that it promised to be. It was fun, and everyone just looked so good, especially Kim Cattrall! Honestly, will the woman ever look her age? She doesn’t look like she needs an eye wrinkle cream at all!

I’m still reeling, as you can probably tell, and I’m already making plans to see it again within the next few days. I love how – as always – I was able to relate to Carrie’s life once again. ’Twas like a freakin’ parallel universe in some parts.

I’ll write about it more tomorrow later. Right now I’m still too giddy to do anything else.

It took a while, but I think I now fully understand Pag-IBIG’s housing loan process. And it’s about time, too. I’ve fretted about information that varied from one source to another, paid countless visits to the Pag-IBIG office, and even sat through an excruciatingly boring and useless seminar. Truly, I have suffered to finally achieve this rather elusive, umm, clarity.

So Pag-IBIG, you better not give me the runaround when I turn in those papers you’re demanding of me. There’s a beautiful house positively aching to be built on a mighty fine piece of land near the beach that has our name on it, and a mistress that yearns for the day when she could finally fill it up with both indoor and patio furniture. Do be kind.