Seven Deep Breaths




I've never been sure why I'm such a sucker for Sex and the City. I don't wear high heels, I rarely wear make-up or do anything with my hair, and I'm not a fan of a nightclub anymore.


R and I took a few child-free hours (Thanks Cynthia!) to see the new movie on Saturday. We figured it might be our last chance to be alone together, ever. I did offer to see Indiana Jones, but R generously offered to see a chick flick-- plus, he likes the steamy scenes.


Halfway through the movie I realized what it is that brings be back to the show: the friendship. The eating, and crying, hugging, teasing, bickering. The Love. And oh, how I felt for Samantha having to travel back and forth between LA and NY for so many A-list events with her friends-- but at least she has the budget for it.


I've had to say goodbye to many good friends in the last couple of weeks, and it makes me cry an awful lot. I have this new face-- my moving face-- it's when I feel a random breakdown coming on, and I take a deep breath and scrunch up my nose and press my lips really hard against my teeth. I think I look like a pug.


I was making exactly this face as R and I were walking out of the theater after the movie ended, and then I looked above the exit doors and I read, in big silver lettering, "Take the Magic with You."


So that's what I'm going to do.

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