
It breaks my heart that Sex and The City ended. For nearly a decade, I could pretend that women really do gather together over Cosmos, talking about sex, career, relationships, and the meaning of life according to Carrie Bradshaw, all while decked out in Manolo Blahniks and sporting styling haircuts, both cranial and pubic.
I shocked Yoni today. (Have I told you about Yoni yet? She's my inner feminine- my vagina, uterus, ovaries, and little voice inside. We've become friends, and we chat from time to time.) I didn’t mean to, but I think I snuck up on Yoni, taking her a little off guard, when she was reading a book or maybe watching some old Sex and the City reruns.