It must be odd being like Carrie Bradshaw. At first you think that those sorts of people have everything- the glamorous lifestyle, the dream job and the group of lovely friends, but then you realise what they don’t have. Class, grace, decorum and an unselfish mind. I’d genuinely hate if I ever turned into a Carrie Bradshaw, as it would have meant that I had sold out everything that I once held dear to me.
I say this, because Carrie spent a lot of time in this episode wondering why she kept thinking about Aidan, and why she kept ringing him up and hanging up because she got scared. How incredibly selfish is that? I honestly can’t understand the thought process of someone who cheats on someone, and then whinges and pines for them to come back into their lives. All just seems a bit fake and pathetic doesn’t it?
But not as pathetic as the fake nipples that Samantha was sporting here. Even Miranda tried them on, and as you might have expected, it was disgusting. It was like a rat burying his little furry head through a crack in the sewers – you think it’s cute, but then you realise it’s a dirty little vermin creature that really should be put down. Samantha ended up with a guy who used baby talk in the bedroom, which is a crime one below ‘barking’, and just above ‘dirty talking in a northern accent’ on the filth scale.
Charlotte and Trey spent a lot of time in this episode discussing children, and their plans for the future. Trey’s not actually that bad a guy is he? Sure he’s impotent, and has an annoying haircut, but those are personality flaws I can look beyond. The dreams of having a baby dimmed somewhat though, when one of Charlotte’s married and mothered pals came round with her husband and her kids, and it became apparent that they all hated each other. It’s sad to see when families’ disintegrate, but then I just remember that it’s not really any of my business or concern.
Carrie was still trying to get Aidan back, and so sent him a ‘witty, yet sexy’ email. Emails are so passé, real romantics bombard their exes with letters, texts and desperation until it all gets too much to take. “In love, do actions speak louder than words?” asked Carrie. As a writer, a scholar and a poet I would hope that words still mean something in the grand scheme of things, but I feel that there are also times for spontaneous romantic events, be that a lovely meal, or settling for a handjob.
Miranda was settling for something a little ruder, as she hooked up with a man who enjoyed running marathons, and who also enjoyed sticking his tongue up her arse. A group discussion between the girls revealed that only Charlotte really enjoyed it – and she even liked doing it to Trey. Always knew she was a dirtbag, and I absolutely love it.
What I didn’t love was Miranda and Carrie going out with Steve and Aidan. What was the point? How could Carrie keep pursuing someone who cheated on him? And how could Aidan forgive someone who did that to him? Again, what’s the fucking point? It’ll just happen again, and again, and again. People don’t change; they just get better at masking their ugliness.
I just can’t deal with the idiotic scriptwriters of this programme and their doomed attempt at making things romantic and touching. Carrie throwing stones at Aidan’s window in an attempt to get him back probably would have been a sweet moment in a John Hughes film, but ‘Pretty In Pink’ this certainly isn’t. Women should just come to terms with the fact that they just can’t be nice. It’s not in their genetics. Being mean? Sure. Being selfish? Definitely. Ignorance, pettiness and the ability to crush a man just when he’s at his worse? Well that goes without saying doesn’t it.
And the cunt took her back. He actually took her back. Forget all the complimentary things I said about Aidan, I was clearly mistaken. “All my bad habits are now gone” Carrie told him, as she informed him that she dreamt of his arms being around her all the time. And even though Aidan, the daft fucking cunt told her that she had ‘broken my heart’ he STILL took her back. Why? Why would someone do that? How could anyone be so desperate?
You just can’t love someone who cheated on you. Call me an idiot, say I don’t know how it feels – but in a weird way I’ve got less respect for the people who take cheaters back, rather than the actual cheaters. Don’t get me wrong, they’re both cunts, but different sorts of cunts. Sometimes I really do feel that I’m all alone in a world full of batties.