Sex’ may be over, but good times still live on

Dear Jen,

Last week, my heart was broken. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover. The days seem to just drag on. Sleeping and eating give me no comfort. Even studying can’t take my mind off of the void in my heart.

“Sex and the City” is off the air. What can I do? Begging, pleading, even groveling won’t work to win back my heart’s desire. Now even when I think about Manolo Blahniks, my heart breaks a little more. What can I do to fill this void? How can I heal my broken heart?


Alone in the City

Dear Alone,

Think about how I feel-I’m an advice columnist for God’s sake!

Like you, and I’m sure many other people, I am still trying to figure out what will become of my Sunday nights. The end of “Sex and the City” was more than the end of a show-it was the end of a much-cherished routine.

Every Sunday, friends would flock to any house that had HBO to laugh, cringe and then talk about whatever sexual dysfunction or relationship flop was featured that week.

Even men, albeit bitching and moaning, watched every week-a secret pleasure akin to snagging their girlfriends’ Cosmos for sex advice.

I don’t think, though, that men got it like women did, and therefore do not mourn the loss like we do.

If you look past some obvious and annoying departures from reality in the show-like Carrie supporting a Manhattan lifestyle, and a closet full of Manolos on a columnist’s salary-you can get to what the show meant to so many women. Your sorrow is understandable.

“Sex and the City” showed women, finally, as the perverts we really are.

Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and even Charlotte represented women in control of and unashamed of their sexuality. They proved that women can be as uncouth, horny and terrified of commitment as guys.

Sure, some deemed the show as nothing more than “Slut Convention 2004,” but many saw it as a much-needed reality check on dated norms.

Perhaps most importantly, the show made being single less of a curse and more of a blessing. Sure, most men and women seek love, but the show made the solo interim fun, not depressing-all the while putting the emphasis on female friendship.

Doesn’t it seem that one of the catch phrases of women in our generation has been, “I just don’t get along well with other women?” Like it is somehow cool not to have close girlfriends, to just be “one of the boys.”

It was great to have a show that made friendship (lame as that sounds) the top priority it should be.

So, don’t mourn the show ending-it is not what it would have wanted.

Follow the show’s lead and go out with girly-friends whenever possible-and that doesn’t have to mean dressing up in tutus and drinking martinis.

In fact, it probably means you and your friends will be drinking Natty Light in your Old Navy pajama pants.

If the void remains unfilled, there are always the DVDs of past episodes at Blockbuster. Living vicariously through four successful, funny and sexually satisfied women ain’t too bad-as long as you also have experiences of your own, not just Carrie’s, to share with your friends.

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