An open invitation, nay a plea, to take a girl to see the new Sex in the City movie

I once prided myself on the fact that I never saw Titanic. James "I'm King of the World" Cameron did not get one bloody red cent from me. I did not shed a tear when Leo plunged into the icy depths. I did not see a Rubenesque Kate Winslet bare herself. I wanted nothing to do with the Oscar-winning behemoth. When my girlfriend wanted to go and see it, I told her that we would see Good Will Hunting instead and she would like it. We did. She did.

To this day I have seen nary a moment of it. When it comes on TV, I changed the channel. When my family watched it one Christmas, I played board games with cousins. And now that the fervor has died down considerably and the movie has been reduced to a blip on the pop cultural radar of the 1990s, I'm wondering if I missed out.

My paradox is that I love the splendor of being caught up in a moment and want to be a part of it. I love how revolutions form and sweep the masses, no one knowing why until it's already too late. Sex in the City is my chance to rectify the mistake from my past and to forge a a new Tipping Point where one previously did not exist.

With that being said, I want to stand arm in arm with you as your strap on your Manolo Blaniks and take to the streets to see what Carrie has in store for Big.

A warning: I may be going in cold to the premise of the movie, but I will be going in not to ridicule, but to embrace. I have seen only one episode, but it was the watershed Rabbit one (granted it was on TBS). I know that Sarah Jessica Parker is the horse-faced one principle character. I know the blonde is the slutty one, the brunette was involved in some sort of sex tape scandal and that there's a fourth character. I also know that none of them can hold a candle to Eva Longoria.