Are You A Carrie?

If I get asked this question by another newspaper, magazine or girly web-site I'm going to pull out my hair and mail it to Sara Jessica Parker.

"You only have $650.00. Would you go to the new hot-spot for dinner w/ the girls or buy the new Monolo's you've been eyeing?" Here's what I'd do with $650.00. Pay off all the bills that are piling up because this God forsaken town financially gropes me everytime I walk out the front door.

Family and friends who don't live here ask me "Stef, you live in NYC. Is it really like that?" I'd tell you the reality of living single and cute in NYC but it would kill the fantasy that Michael Patrick King has made millions on. For the more financially challenged single woman I'd say life is like this blog. Tattoo removal, leaving dates while the date is in the bathroom, finally making money and then having your purse stolen, having a scale tell you you're 30 pounds heavier than you thought...etc.

When I'm at home writing, I'm not wearing cute bra-tops with skimpy boy-shorts and applying lip-gloss while looking out a pre-war window and contemplating female/male anthropology. No. The other night I killed a centipede who ran across my ground floor apartment, all the while, thumping Mexican music from a passing low-rider bounced off my walls.

I think if Carrie lived in my New York she'd probably pack her bags and move back to where she came from. So no, I'm not a Carrie. I'm a Stefani. Half the shoe collection, twice the reality. Exclamation Point.