I can't ever tire of "Sex and the City," so here are a few new thoughts.
Shrewdly, last week, the writers swerved away from the Miranda/Che melodrama. I thought there would be big, predictable fights--and I was wrong. Score one for the writing staff.
I'm also a fan of the strange plot the writers actually selected: Charlotte fights with her daughter about using a tampon. To me, this was educational; I hadn't realized there was a thing called tampon angst, and of course I should know that, because most bodily events are just complicated. Charlotte and her daughter struggle with change--"there's no string? did you check your butt crack?"--and the struggle is surprising and plausible. (I would have liked the scenes more if the writers had any real interest in Charlotte's daughter as a human being, but we can't always ask for everything.)
I was intrigued by the business about wedding rings. Carrie's young neighbor spots Carrie's ring and says, "I didn't know you were married." Awkwardly, Carrie says, "I am, but he's far away. Far, far away. In heaven." This hiccup leads Carrie to force herself to *remove* her ring--but the reckoning doesn't go well, and Carrie emerges from her apartment in a new ring, Big's ring, and this ring is affixed to Carrie's living flesh with a band-aid.
Of course, Big's ring ends up in the pipes below a toilet--and handyman Steve must save the day. Steve--trapped in a state of denial, with reference to his own marriage--claims that he will always wear Miranda's ring. Steve unclogs a pipe for Carrie, and Carrie tries to unclog an *emotional* pipe for Steve. ("Are you sure you don't want to think more about what you just said?")
I find I'm truly uncertain about the finale--approaching now--and that's a nice state to be in. I'll miss these people.
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