Good title, no? Thanks to Danette for coming up with it!
I had quite the whirlwind of a day, from meetings, to clean-up, to pie and tears, to song and bryani, to artistic dialogue to tribal rhythms.
My day started normally. I got up, did my thing, went to work. I skipped the meeting, and prepared for another meeting tomorrow. Then I did what I always do when I have time on my hands, I cleaned up. The office I work in looks like a tsunami hit it. Literally. Debris, and clutter of no use to anyone. As far as things are concerned, I am a minimalist. If you haven't used it for a long time, chuck it. So, I initiated a long chuck-out session. I started small with the computer area. You know what they say - today, a small corner, tomorrow, the world!
Then I went to our office end-of-the-year party, where we all gathered in great spirits and healthy appetites. The bryani that Jennifer made is epic, so much so, that I feel pity for anyone who has not tasted it. The President's Choice Key Lime pie was equally heavenly. Light, refreshing and neither too sweet nor too tart. The conversation was pleasant, as it always is when the year is behind us. People were so relaxed and happy to get on with their summer plans. Some will be travelling long distances, others, like me, will be expanding their horizons in other ways. In either case, it is the time for us to find ourselves out of the role of educator. Many think this break is decadent, but only those in the profession know how necessary it is for us to maintain our sanity, and our perspective.
Since the head of our department and a dear friend is leaving to go to another school, we had something special planned for her. I adapted the Nun's Song from the Sound of Music, and we sang it to her. I tried not to make eye contact with Maria because I would have started to weep; and that will not do because my singing is bad enough! She loved it, and it felt good to give that to her.
Then, off I whirled to pick up my friend and go to a writers' meeting that is focusing right now on Harlequin genre. It was my first meeting where I got to know a select group of people who are smart, funny, and open to something new. It is the first step towards the next step in my evolution. I get glimpses of what is to come but I am open to the possibilities.
On our way there, Danette told me about a type of tree that gives off the distinct aroma of semen. How fecund! I, unfortunately, did not recognize the smell, and I won't even venture to examine why. I must explore this further.
After our meeting was adjourned, Danette suggested we go to a drum circle at Trinity Park. It was a woodstockesque experience with a massive amount of drums, an enormous group of people from various age, ethnic, and interest groups, fire jugglers, hoola hoopers, dancers and lots of weed. I think I got a second hand high. The experience was organic, inspiring, and uplifting. I let the primal rhythms wash over me as I people-watched, smiling the whole time.
All in all it was quite the day. It deserved a mention. :)
2008-06-24
2008-06-20
Concerto in Sleep Major
Hello!
Miss me? I have been swamped with work. Yay! The end is near, but I need a frikken mind break.
I had an interesting dream. My dream was a musical, with original music composed by none other than...me! Unfortunately, I cannot remember it. It isn't meant for this world. But that world...mmmmhmmm! Let me tell you!
It was in color. There was a soundtrack. I sang! Beautifully. My dream vocal chords kicked Aguilera bootay, I gotta tell ya. I hit those high notes, steadily and amazingly coming out of my mouth, through my lungs. I danced in all the numbers. I smoked the stage!
It was a romantic comedy. Most fulfilling. The usual tale of attraction and obstacles with a satsfiying ending. The story wasn't really important. The feelings and sights and sounds were.
When I woke up, I actually thought, "Where am I?"
I can only describe it as magical. What it means however, boggles me, and for once, I'm not going to bother trying to figure it out. It was another world. It was a parallel universe where I didn't have a ton of marking sitting on my coffee table. I can't afford a vacation right now, but who knows what dreams may come.
Miss me? I have been swamped with work. Yay! The end is near, but I need a frikken mind break.
I had an interesting dream. My dream was a musical, with original music composed by none other than...me! Unfortunately, I cannot remember it. It isn't meant for this world. But that world...mmmmhmmm! Let me tell you!
It was in color. There was a soundtrack. I sang! Beautifully. My dream vocal chords kicked Aguilera bootay, I gotta tell ya. I hit those high notes, steadily and amazingly coming out of my mouth, through my lungs. I danced in all the numbers. I smoked the stage!
It was a romantic comedy. Most fulfilling. The usual tale of attraction and obstacles with a satsfiying ending. The story wasn't really important. The feelings and sights and sounds were.
When I woke up, I actually thought, "Where am I?"
I can only describe it as magical. What it means however, boggles me, and for once, I'm not going to bother trying to figure it out. It was another world. It was a parallel universe where I didn't have a ton of marking sitting on my coffee table. I can't afford a vacation right now, but who knows what dreams may come.
2008-06-10
Blind Adherence
I have been thinking a lot about this lately. At what point does an individual in a free society have the right and the responsibility to question a rule or a procedure?
The logic behind some rules is self-evident. It is pointless to question the traffic laws because they have been put in place to protect people. Is it pointless however to question parking laws? I mean, who has been saved by a $30 fine I got because I parked 5 minutes past the time on the parking ticket I purchased for $12? I can understand the need to pay for parking because that money (hopefully) goes towards improving the streets and boulevards of our fair city. But paying 30 buckeroos for 5 minutes is exorbitant. The city punked me.
What about a rule that is meted out randomly and without logic? When do rules become tyranny?
A friend of mine has taken it upon herself to organize a project that will give students valuable, mandatory volunteer hours, and will help in the collection of books that seem to go missing in alarming amounts every year. A worthy project, don'tcha think?
Now, why is it necessary that she MUST get that poster signed by the principal and TWO vice principals? Why must the poster be signed at all? Are teachers not mostly responsible adults who can make a judgement call about what a poster's contents should be? And if that individual is a knucklehead (and there are a few of those in every environment) who does post something inappropriate, would that individual not have a reality check waiting for him/her in the mail? So what the hell?
My friend had to go through an assembly line of idiocy to achieve something productive, like she was asking for permission to start a terrorist club. I mean, come on? Will her proposed project not save the school money and by extension save money for the Board and the tax payers? Not to mention the fact that if this woman, my friend, came to me and said she has a project in the wings, I would know that is a worthy project. I have never seen a more organized, thoughtful, smart and considerate individual. She is a person who frikken cares in an environment filled with blind adherence. She deserves an award for that alone, not a torture session.
So here I sit, absolutely bemused about a system that has no thought or common sense behind it. It's like we're a factory of people churned by a robotic crew representing the Bureacrats of Political Sanitation. I say, down with blind adherence. I can in no good conscience not question a rule and a procedure that makes no sense on any level. This "rule" was established by micro-managers who cannot manage to tie their shoelaces, or moo-moo sashes without direction.
I will question until I am blue in the face, because I am a thinking and vital individual who refuses to be hoodwinked, especially not by those who are not even worthy of making sure there is enough toilet paper in the stalls.
The logic behind some rules is self-evident. It is pointless to question the traffic laws because they have been put in place to protect people. Is it pointless however to question parking laws? I mean, who has been saved by a $30 fine I got because I parked 5 minutes past the time on the parking ticket I purchased for $12? I can understand the need to pay for parking because that money (hopefully) goes towards improving the streets and boulevards of our fair city. But paying 30 buckeroos for 5 minutes is exorbitant. The city punked me.
What about a rule that is meted out randomly and without logic? When do rules become tyranny?
A friend of mine has taken it upon herself to organize a project that will give students valuable, mandatory volunteer hours, and will help in the collection of books that seem to go missing in alarming amounts every year. A worthy project, don'tcha think?
Now, why is it necessary that she MUST get that poster signed by the principal and TWO vice principals? Why must the poster be signed at all? Are teachers not mostly responsible adults who can make a judgement call about what a poster's contents should be? And if that individual is a knucklehead (and there are a few of those in every environment) who does post something inappropriate, would that individual not have a reality check waiting for him/her in the mail? So what the hell?
My friend had to go through an assembly line of idiocy to achieve something productive, like she was asking for permission to start a terrorist club. I mean, come on? Will her proposed project not save the school money and by extension save money for the Board and the tax payers? Not to mention the fact that if this woman, my friend, came to me and said she has a project in the wings, I would know that is a worthy project. I have never seen a more organized, thoughtful, smart and considerate individual. She is a person who frikken cares in an environment filled with blind adherence. She deserves an award for that alone, not a torture session.
So here I sit, absolutely bemused about a system that has no thought or common sense behind it. It's like we're a factory of people churned by a robotic crew representing the Bureacrats of Political Sanitation. I say, down with blind adherence. I can in no good conscience not question a rule and a procedure that makes no sense on any level. This "rule" was established by micro-managers who cannot manage to tie their shoelaces, or moo-moo sashes without direction.
I will question until I am blue in the face, because I am a thinking and vital individual who refuses to be hoodwinked, especially not by those who are not even worthy of making sure there is enough toilet paper in the stalls.
2008-06-08
Romance and the Mirror
The topic of romance has come up in many discussions. Questions abound. Does romance really exist or is it a delusion we carefully construct to support our expectations? If it does exist, can romance be sustained in the face of daily routine and pressures? Is it dangerous to be a romantic in this time of disposable relationships? What are we afraid of?
The topic came up at a party I was at recently, and one woman adamantly disregarded even the possibility that romance and the right man exists. She has been scarred by former relationships, bad choices in men, bad reasons to stay with them. Up to that point, I would have agreed with her. But it was in that one moment when she categorically denied the existence of anything beautiful or good in relationships that I found my faith in them.
I had an epiphany.
It wasn't so much that I objected to the idea of romance because I did not believe in its existence. I had lost my ability to believe that I could inspire romance. Cynicism was a convenient way of protecting myself under the hard shell of logic.
When I looked into the mirror of this woman's words, I saw someone who had lost her faith. I saw my past self.
In that instant, I stepped out from under the veil of disbelief, and in my head I heard,
"There is such thing as the right man, the right relationship. There is such a thing as feeling swept into a world of magic and limitless possibilities. It is possible to sustain that feeling over the years, despite laundry and bills and unforeseen economic bumps. It is possible to look into someone's eyes and feel transported to a parallel universe, even if it's for an instant. It is possible to feel like your solitary journey is over, and you have reached your home. I know. I have felt it."
I was flabbergasted. The voice in my head was clear and strong and most definitely my own.
Later that night, as I finished washing my face, I looked into my eyes in the mirror and smiled.
The topic came up at a party I was at recently, and one woman adamantly disregarded even the possibility that romance and the right man exists. She has been scarred by former relationships, bad choices in men, bad reasons to stay with them. Up to that point, I would have agreed with her. But it was in that one moment when she categorically denied the existence of anything beautiful or good in relationships that I found my faith in them.
I had an epiphany.
It wasn't so much that I objected to the idea of romance because I did not believe in its existence. I had lost my ability to believe that I could inspire romance. Cynicism was a convenient way of protecting myself under the hard shell of logic.
When I looked into the mirror of this woman's words, I saw someone who had lost her faith. I saw my past self.
In that instant, I stepped out from under the veil of disbelief, and in my head I heard,
"There is such thing as the right man, the right relationship. There is such a thing as feeling swept into a world of magic and limitless possibilities. It is possible to sustain that feeling over the years, despite laundry and bills and unforeseen economic bumps. It is possible to look into someone's eyes and feel transported to a parallel universe, even if it's for an instant. It is possible to feel like your solitary journey is over, and you have reached your home. I know. I have felt it."
I was flabbergasted. The voice in my head was clear and strong and most definitely my own.
Later that night, as I finished washing my face, I looked into my eyes in the mirror and smiled.
Survival of the Fittest?
Sometimes, I'm convinced I am an alien. It's a thought I have had since I was very young. In fact, during my experimental stage, I tried automatic writing and even that told me I was from Andromeda.
I don't speak the same language as most people. I don't experience the same thought processes. I feel so deeply, I sometimes cannot express it.
My parents told me that I used to write even before I could speak. I filled pages and pages of writing that was illegible to them. Sadly, they threw those notebooks out. I would have liked to have known what my mother tongue is. Maybe that would have made sense to me.
I have already established that I think too much. I process things too quickly. I see the big picture, and it frightens me. It's a miracle I go out of the house at all. Unfortunately, I'm not independently wealthy, otherwise I would have been a recluse.
That's why I love children and animals. They function purely as themselves. They have not had a chance to be messed up yet by the rest of us. And when we have successfully screwed up their purity with our psychoses, we blame them for being that way. When a child smiles or an animal shows affection, you know it comes from pure emotion. There is no affectation.
Later, when the socialization occurs things change and not necessarily for the better.
I had a discussion with a friend tonight about the fact that people are different from animals. His assumption was that I was saying people are better. When did the words different and better become synonymous? Why are animals inferior if they do not have the capacity for higher thinking? Why is it ridiculous to say that animal and human communication is vastly different? Why did that make him angry? All because I would not instantly agree that killing someone on suspicion of crime was a good thing; because I didn't buy that execution is simply an extension of the natural laws of elimination?
The conversation had started with his hatred towards Michael Jackson. I've seen that anger before. I simply argued that MJ did not follow the known patterns of child molesters, and that if he truly was consciously molesting children, he had the financial wherewithal to do so undetected. He ceded that this point was valid.
The conversation branched into killing child molesters as a way of naturally eliminating that trait. How do we know it's a genetic trait that can be eliminated? I asked, who would make that decision? And what if that was a false accusation? Then when we were done with child molesters, where would it stop? Who would be next? If the natural selection analogy held true did that mean we then would start eliminating people with mental disorders? How about the elderly? What about people whom we personally consider inferior?
I know what child molestation does to your self-esteem, your ideas of what is right and natural, your image and expectation of the world and the people in it. Last thing I need is to be told that I am messed up because I don't want to take a gun and start offing all transgressors real or imaginary. There is no way I would not want someone who has victimized the young to be punished, but there are many forms of punishment, and random killing, to me, is just vengence no matter how many theories of natural selection one uses to disguise it in.
But like I said, I am an alien.
I don't speak the same language as most people. I don't experience the same thought processes. I feel so deeply, I sometimes cannot express it.
My parents told me that I used to write even before I could speak. I filled pages and pages of writing that was illegible to them. Sadly, they threw those notebooks out. I would have liked to have known what my mother tongue is. Maybe that would have made sense to me.
I have already established that I think too much. I process things too quickly. I see the big picture, and it frightens me. It's a miracle I go out of the house at all. Unfortunately, I'm not independently wealthy, otherwise I would have been a recluse.
That's why I love children and animals. They function purely as themselves. They have not had a chance to be messed up yet by the rest of us. And when we have successfully screwed up their purity with our psychoses, we blame them for being that way. When a child smiles or an animal shows affection, you know it comes from pure emotion. There is no affectation.
Later, when the socialization occurs things change and not necessarily for the better.
I had a discussion with a friend tonight about the fact that people are different from animals. His assumption was that I was saying people are better. When did the words different and better become synonymous? Why are animals inferior if they do not have the capacity for higher thinking? Why is it ridiculous to say that animal and human communication is vastly different? Why did that make him angry? All because I would not instantly agree that killing someone on suspicion of crime was a good thing; because I didn't buy that execution is simply an extension of the natural laws of elimination?
The conversation had started with his hatred towards Michael Jackson. I've seen that anger before. I simply argued that MJ did not follow the known patterns of child molesters, and that if he truly was consciously molesting children, he had the financial wherewithal to do so undetected. He ceded that this point was valid.
The conversation branched into killing child molesters as a way of naturally eliminating that trait. How do we know it's a genetic trait that can be eliminated? I asked, who would make that decision? And what if that was a false accusation? Then when we were done with child molesters, where would it stop? Who would be next? If the natural selection analogy held true did that mean we then would start eliminating people with mental disorders? How about the elderly? What about people whom we personally consider inferior?
I know what child molestation does to your self-esteem, your ideas of what is right and natural, your image and expectation of the world and the people in it. Last thing I need is to be told that I am messed up because I don't want to take a gun and start offing all transgressors real or imaginary. There is no way I would not want someone who has victimized the young to be punished, but there are many forms of punishment, and random killing, to me, is just vengence no matter how many theories of natural selection one uses to disguise it in.
But like I said, I am an alien.
2008-06-04
Random
Sometimes, random thoughts pop in my mind, and I must express them.
I'm watching So You Think You Can Dance. Anything that has to do with dance has my attention immediately. The added component of this show is the "reality". Well, the television reality. I watch the auditions because of the dance, the illuminating moments of success and the message that you can transcend anything if you have the right attitude. I have to commend some of these dancers. Some have such a WILL to make it, that it inspires me to get off my ass and do some crunches while watching.
Then there are the moments of infamy that they choose to air, and I am disappointed. Why is it entertaining to watch someone make a total fool of him/herself and then be humiliated on top of it? Seriously, there isn't enough therapy in the world to heal some people. There aren't enough words to describe the disgust I feel in watching the judges tear them to shreds.
I'm so frustrated sometimes. So many thoughts speed throughout my synapses, popping in and popping away.
Why do I think so much? Maybe they should make a show called So You Think You Can Think? or maybe So You Think? I would so be in there!
Work has become so frustrating. Today, one of my students who has not been doing very much in class when he has been there ( half the time), declared today that he was doing nothing because, and I quote, "This class is shit."
I sent him out. He needed to be out of my sight.
In the school where I work the motto is, you send a student out, you get called into the VP's office and grilled about all the accusations the student has made against you. That doesn't bother me because I know I am a good teacher and I do all in my power to empower my students to do the best they can do. Even if I have to drag them over the threshold of ignorance into the light of original thought.
So, I was prepared for this interview with the VP and the student. I was told that I had said to the student that he had no chance of passing. I smiled and said, "I was expecting that. What he failed to tell you was that I said, he had no chance of passing if he didn't do the work." Logical, no? You would think.
Then the VP asked me if I got his previous marks. (He had transfered half way through the semester to my class.) I said that I hadn't. I had told him it was his responsibility to tell his previous teacher that he needed his marks. The VP replied, in FRONT of the student, that it was NOT his responsibility to get the marks. "He can easily change them."
Ok. Let's break this down.
I attempted to teach the student a lesson in responsibility and accountability in asking him to get the marks. It was his choice to come to this class, because in his words "it is easier". That signalled to me someone who had no interest in getting a credit let alone learning anything, so I decided I was going to ask this of him. I was testing his resolve.
I got cut down for my efforts. My professional credibility was negated in that one moment, but I remained calm.
What the VP taught him is that he is not accountable and not reliable since he can so "easily" change the marks. Huh? Would I not then have noticed? Would I not have checked with my colleague?
Ironically, later in the discussion, said VP asked the student if he indeed went to his former teacher to ask for the marks. He hadn't. Hmm.
Whatever. I know I did the right thing and have been acting in the best interests of the student.
The VP then finds out that he has been skipping classes right left and center when I mentioned his 14 absences from my class. Good thing they keep on top of that sort of thing...
The whole exercise earned him 21 detentions. Will he learn anything from them? I have no idea. I know I learned that I can remain professional and calm in the face of insult. I learned that my intentions are well-placed, and my vision clear whereas the administrator in question is basking in her position of authority. It's hard to think clearly way up there. Lack of oxygen, I think.
I wonder. Do other people get so disrespected on a daily basis at work? Do they get put in a position where they are taken down a peg for doing their job?
I'm stumped. I thought it was an educator's job to take advantage of all the teachable moments and opportunities to help their wards to grow in independent thought and knowledge? Instead, bureaucracy is the oil that makes this educational machine run. It has made asses of us. The kind we sit on and the kind we ride.
So You Think You Can Teach? Apparently any bozo can as long as he/she follows the rules:
1. Assume the worst and get the worst.
2. Take down anyone who thinks outside the box.
3. Get it in writing.
4. Fuck it up as long as you dress it up and take it out to dinner.
5. Do not attempt to prevent damage just be really good at damage control.
Whatever. I'm disgusted again.
There is nothing worse than bad leaders. Unorganized, without a vision, without common sense, without an original thought in their heads. These people know the rules, but have never questioned them. They demand respect but do not give it. They have the compassion of a chainsaw, and the vision of a bucket of used engine oil.
I teach critical thinking, and I'm thinking the situation is critical.
So maybe wearing a ridiculous outfit and falling on your face on television is not the worst thing that can happen to a person. This too, I will transcend.
I'm watching So You Think You Can Dance. Anything that has to do with dance has my attention immediately. The added component of this show is the "reality". Well, the television reality. I watch the auditions because of the dance, the illuminating moments of success and the message that you can transcend anything if you have the right attitude. I have to commend some of these dancers. Some have such a WILL to make it, that it inspires me to get off my ass and do some crunches while watching.
Then there are the moments of infamy that they choose to air, and I am disappointed. Why is it entertaining to watch someone make a total fool of him/herself and then be humiliated on top of it? Seriously, there isn't enough therapy in the world to heal some people. There aren't enough words to describe the disgust I feel in watching the judges tear them to shreds.
I'm so frustrated sometimes. So many thoughts speed throughout my synapses, popping in and popping away.
Why do I think so much? Maybe they should make a show called So You Think You Can Think? or maybe So You Think? I would so be in there!
Work has become so frustrating. Today, one of my students who has not been doing very much in class when he has been there ( half the time), declared today that he was doing nothing because, and I quote, "This class is shit."
I sent him out. He needed to be out of my sight.
In the school where I work the motto is, you send a student out, you get called into the VP's office and grilled about all the accusations the student has made against you. That doesn't bother me because I know I am a good teacher and I do all in my power to empower my students to do the best they can do. Even if I have to drag them over the threshold of ignorance into the light of original thought.
So, I was prepared for this interview with the VP and the student. I was told that I had said to the student that he had no chance of passing. I smiled and said, "I was expecting that. What he failed to tell you was that I said, he had no chance of passing if he didn't do the work." Logical, no? You would think.
Then the VP asked me if I got his previous marks. (He had transfered half way through the semester to my class.) I said that I hadn't. I had told him it was his responsibility to tell his previous teacher that he needed his marks. The VP replied, in FRONT of the student, that it was NOT his responsibility to get the marks. "He can easily change them."
Ok. Let's break this down.
I attempted to teach the student a lesson in responsibility and accountability in asking him to get the marks. It was his choice to come to this class, because in his words "it is easier". That signalled to me someone who had no interest in getting a credit let alone learning anything, so I decided I was going to ask this of him. I was testing his resolve.
I got cut down for my efforts. My professional credibility was negated in that one moment, but I remained calm.
What the VP taught him is that he is not accountable and not reliable since he can so "easily" change the marks. Huh? Would I not then have noticed? Would I not have checked with my colleague?
Ironically, later in the discussion, said VP asked the student if he indeed went to his former teacher to ask for the marks. He hadn't. Hmm.
Whatever. I know I did the right thing and have been acting in the best interests of the student.
The VP then finds out that he has been skipping classes right left and center when I mentioned his 14 absences from my class. Good thing they keep on top of that sort of thing...
The whole exercise earned him 21 detentions. Will he learn anything from them? I have no idea. I know I learned that I can remain professional and calm in the face of insult. I learned that my intentions are well-placed, and my vision clear whereas the administrator in question is basking in her position of authority. It's hard to think clearly way up there. Lack of oxygen, I think.
I wonder. Do other people get so disrespected on a daily basis at work? Do they get put in a position where they are taken down a peg for doing their job?
I'm stumped. I thought it was an educator's job to take advantage of all the teachable moments and opportunities to help their wards to grow in independent thought and knowledge? Instead, bureaucracy is the oil that makes this educational machine run. It has made asses of us. The kind we sit on and the kind we ride.
So You Think You Can Teach? Apparently any bozo can as long as he/she follows the rules:
1. Assume the worst and get the worst.
2. Take down anyone who thinks outside the box.
3. Get it in writing.
4. Fuck it up as long as you dress it up and take it out to dinner.
5. Do not attempt to prevent damage just be really good at damage control.
Whatever. I'm disgusted again.
There is nothing worse than bad leaders. Unorganized, without a vision, without common sense, without an original thought in their heads. These people know the rules, but have never questioned them. They demand respect but do not give it. They have the compassion of a chainsaw, and the vision of a bucket of used engine oil.
I teach critical thinking, and I'm thinking the situation is critical.
So maybe wearing a ridiculous outfit and falling on your face on television is not the worst thing that can happen to a person. This too, I will transcend.
2008-06-01
Just the Girls
Last night, we participated in a cinematic and socialogical milestone. We went to the premiere of Sex and the City.
The movie was everything fans could have hoped for. A reunion of friends. And not just friends on the screen.
Whatever naysayers' sour predictions, the movie was a smashing success. It brought us Mr. Big, fashion, intimacy, heartbreak and healing. The critics who panned it missed the point. It wasn't about the movie at all.
I don't think there has been a gathering of women this large since the suffragette movement. Together, we admired each others dresses, and shoes. Together, we laughed; we cried; we gasped; we clapped in enthusiasm.
I have lived in this city for many years, and I cannot remember another time I felt so close to total strangers except during the blackout a few years ago. This was more fun.
It was the sisters movement, inspired by four fictional women who became our friends for 6 years. It doesn't matter if the movie had plot holes, or if the ending was tight. What mattered is that we shared an experience unlike any other.
The ladies I gathered for this outing and I raised our cosmos to toast friendship. We talked about work and babies and men over sushi. We might not have been wearing designer clothing or accessories, but we felt like a million dollars. No movie has ever made us feel that way. So, to all reviewers who panned this movie, you missed a lot. You missed the experience. You missed the bonding. You missed the real reason Sex and the City captivated so many. It made us fall in love with ourselves. So put that in your Jimmy Choos and wear it.
The movie was everything fans could have hoped for. A reunion of friends. And not just friends on the screen.
Whatever naysayers' sour predictions, the movie was a smashing success. It brought us Mr. Big, fashion, intimacy, heartbreak and healing. The critics who panned it missed the point. It wasn't about the movie at all.
I don't think there has been a gathering of women this large since the suffragette movement. Together, we admired each others dresses, and shoes. Together, we laughed; we cried; we gasped; we clapped in enthusiasm.
I have lived in this city for many years, and I cannot remember another time I felt so close to total strangers except during the blackout a few years ago. This was more fun.
It was the sisters movement, inspired by four fictional women who became our friends for 6 years. It doesn't matter if the movie had plot holes, or if the ending was tight. What mattered is that we shared an experience unlike any other.
The ladies I gathered for this outing and I raised our cosmos to toast friendship. We talked about work and babies and men over sushi. We might not have been wearing designer clothing or accessories, but we felt like a million dollars. No movie has ever made us feel that way. So, to all reviewers who panned this movie, you missed a lot. You missed the experience. You missed the bonding. You missed the real reason Sex and the City captivated so many. It made us fall in love with ourselves. So put that in your Jimmy Choos and wear it.
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