The countdown has begun. Only seven days until the most anticipated movie of the year for people with breasts opens in theaters. I’m talking about Sex and the City: The Movie people, and if you say you don’t care you are a liar. I’ll be the one standing in line with a flask full of Cosmos, an obnoxious hat, heels that are too high and calling my boyfriend -- who will actually be as far away from me as humanly possible that night -- “Mr. Big.” But my girls will be by my side, the fellow fans who can watch every episode 40 times and still laugh or cry and justify their spending habits by saying “Carrie chose Manolos over buying a condo.”

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Aubrey Shoe
Contact: Aubrey Shoe