Comfort Fiction-- Part 2

OK, I'm continuing with the theme. The month of April reminds me of grief and loss, so I am choosing instead to focus on the fiction that helps me cope. When I started this series, I thought "hmmm... hope I have enough to keep this going...." but I am actually having a hard time choosing just one thing to feature in each category. So, here goes:

The show: Sex and the City

I am reticent, actually, to sing the praises of this show because I have recently come to the conclusion that this show is the undoing of some portion of my generation. I know so many women in their thirties in the midst of major crisis that can, in some small way, be drawn back to this show. Real-life, powerful, successful, 30-something women seem to have difficulty in accepting their success and finding contentment in their lives because they don't look like those of Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha.

But, really, I doubt many women in New York have those lives... I have a hard time believing that on the income of one column, anyone could afford that many $450 shoes. (by the way, the combines sum of the price tags for every pair of shoes I own does not total $450). Women my age have a hard time believing that their single life is enough unless they have a $10,000 wardrobe, sweet apartment, and a steady parade of men. Consequently, all of these things are nearly impossible to acquire in Baltimore. Just FYI.

Nonetheless, I can watch this show anytime. Over and over again. I grimace over the similarities between myself and Carrie Bradshaw (though I am MUCH less emotional). I swoon over Steve, Harry, and Smith. I feel like one of the girls, and that feeling brings me much comfort, which is why, of all the shows I watch, this one makes the Comfort Fiction list.