Kinda a (Mr.) Big Deal

Yes, I am a sucker for Sex and The City just like every other 20-50 something woman in the US. No, I've never had a TV, but I did have the pleasure of watching every episode countless times at Stanny in the comfort of a bed full of girls at 517 Cowell Lane. So, when I my coworker offered me his ticket to the premiere yesterday afternoon, I swooned and graciously accepted. (We were given tickets as part of our media buy at work because our Parisian Love Search Story--previously viewed on the super bowl-- is playing before the movie).

With a 15 min turn around time at home to turn monday workday into red carpet ready, I arrived at Radio City Music hall perspiring....with thousands of other nobodies. Apparently we were too late for the red carpet, and instead I was waiting in line with women from who knows where who couldnt have cared less about what I was wearing...not the quite the glam entrance we all dream of. But I wasnt exactly red carpet ready.
The movie was spectacular- of course the Liza Minelli cameo was ridiculous and Charlotte falling off the camel seemed a little absurd-- but screw the critics, these women are hot and hilarious and I will love them til they are old and grey. And judging from the crowds response last night, I am not alone. Everyone cheered when favorite characters showed up and laughed and boo'ed when they disapproved of their behavior (Spoiler alert: I'm keeping my lips sealed passed that!).

The after party was in a huge Middle East themed tent (though I'm not sure how indigenous red roses are to the Middle East-- there were no less than 10k of them), outside Lincoln Center. Allison and I arrived early and managed to sneak our way into the vip section. When Aidan (who's real name I just learned this morning was John Corbett) had a free moment, and we had had a drink to ease the nerves, we made our way over to congratulate him and ask for a picture.
After posing I spilled out "I must say, I have always been a bigger fan of yours than Bigs" (smoooooth entrance huh?). Allison and I chatted him about how great he was, asked whether there would be a SATC3 (he said not for him- he had his moment), and when he said it was the first time he himself had seen it, we asked why....
Aidan: "oh I just flew in..."
Me: "From where?"
Aidan: "Santa Barabara, I live out there."
Me: "OH I absolutely LOOOOOOVE Santa Barabara, I was just out there for a bachelorette party [please note this is the second friend bachelorette shout out we've given in the company of Stars-- first being Erin's "5-way" comment on Martha]
Aidan: "Oh yeah? It's pretty nice huh"
Me: "I love it, I want to move there.....all my favorite people live there: You, Jack Johnson..."

"YOU and JACK JOHNSON?" Did I really say that? UGH. Yes, that came out of my mouth. I don't remember what happened after that, I think we excused ourselves and said have a nice night. Bottom line, I blew it with Aidan (but then again, so did Carrie?!)

Other notable siting of the evening were:

1. A very drunk Mr. Big with a mean body guard who he kept telling to ward off the girls and not allow any more pictures-- lame, typical. Sidenote: he looked good, and I am not a Mr. Big fan
   
2. SJP was pretty private, didnt get very close but she was doing that awkward brush your hair back from behind your face but not behind your ear move that I hate.....
3. A very fake and baked Smith Jarred was clearly trying to cover up his aging, and failing drastically.
4. Various other celebs we paparazzi'ed in our full album
   

Ok, this is officially the most shallow absurd post in Internat history, and I humbly apologize to my male reader-base (and Lauren). For this I will punish myself by writing at least 2 very intellectual posts soon to prove I am not the new Perez Hilton or whatever his name is. And yes, I am going to hell for all these comments.

In any case, perhaps we were already punished (or at least Allison was): the night ended in a typical SATC-like tragedy. At 1am, after a goodbye dance with the hummus and babaganush platter, we went to retrieve our bags and Allison's designer purse was missing. Reminded me of the shoe thief episode. Seems there must only be one solution: have Allison register at Chanel for her upcoming 25th Bday party.....