I Want My Sex & The City

I would love to tell you ladies that I live like my girls in Sex and the City. I would love to tell you that I shop for Manolo Blahniks every week, and that me and my girls meet every weekend for Cosmos, margaritas, but my life isn't like that. Sadly, my life is kinda hum-drum and boring, right now. I used to party every other weekend. In fact, I used to party like it was 1999! Unfortunately, it may have been 1999. 


Where'd I lose my mojo?  

Over the years, I've had my fair share of Sex and the City moments. Bad dates. Friends getting married. Partying. Road trips. Boyfriends that wouldn't commit and booty calls.  

Awww...booty calls. I remember those. That's the cool thing about getting older--you can make booty calls and it can, actually, be all about the booty. No guilt, whatsoever, in the morning. Hmmm, nothing more powerful than calling up a fine as can be, good-for-nothing, loser ex that's great in the sack (because he isn't good for s--- else) and having

him--dammit!

FOCUS!

Where was I?

Oh, I remember. I used to live a Sex And the City type of life. Me and my girlfriends would have these hours long gabfests about men while pigging out on cheesy, saucy, high-calorie, high-carb foods and drinks. We'd talk about everything from wanking to plowing the back field. After that, we'd get dressed up and hit the club and come home, in the wee hours of the morning, slizzard. Then one day, it just stopped.

Some of my friends got married and went into the Witness Protection Program. Others fell and on hard times and permanently injured themselves. And I got fitted for a Snuggie and started taking naps in the middle of the day. 

Now don't get me wrong, my life is good, but I want my girl time back! I want my Sex and the City!

If even just for one night.