Cha cha cha!
Carrie lies in bed, then turns over. She VOs about the seasons in New York, how they turn from hot to crisp, and all of a sudden, "you need a blanket on your bed." Forgive me, but I wish I didn't have perfect recollection of last summer turning into fall. It was summer-like for a while into September. September 11th, I remember, was a beautiful, warm sunny day. But for the sake of winding up this summer-into-fall mini-season, I will suspend my awareness of time and the context it places us all into, and say that yes, I too love those early fall days with the crispness and the changing of the contents of the closets (tank tops out, sweaters in) and the blankets on the bed. Run-on sentence, woo! Carrie adds a blanket to her bed and re-tucks herself, then switches on the light and makes a phone call. To none other than Big. Over in Big's World, he checks his watch and answers. Carrie asks what he's doing. He's reading a newspaper, but he plays with her a bit by asking who it is. She asks who he thinks it is. "Princess Grace of Monaco." Carrie says, "She's dead." "So you can imagine my surprise." Heh. She tells him it's fall. He says he thought it was Indian summer, but if not, he'll "take off [his] moccasins." He lights a cigarette and she's all, are you smoking? Hearing people smoke on the phone is kind of fun. It's almost as good as watching them smoke onscreen; it looks cool, and you can't smell it, thank God. Big intones that he's "baaad," and Carrie gets to her point: She's lonely. Does Big ever feel lonely? He says no. Well, can she come over anyway? Sure! She doesn't say, "I won't have sex with you," but instead some nonsense like, they'll just be "keeping" each other "company." Big says lugubriously that he "loooves company." Sure he does. NAKED company.
Carrie does the knock-knock-knock-knock-knock, KNOCK KNOCK thing, Big answers, and she says, "Get it while it's HOT!" She meant the pizza she's holding, you perverts. Which leads me to believe that it isn't early morning, but late at night. An early-morning booty-call food would be bagels, or donuts. She walks in and sees that his apartment is totally empty of furniture. She's stunned. He says that's why he's leaving New York -- "the crime." She's all, "Leaving? No you're not." Instead of the obvious retort of "yes I am," he says, "Tell it to my realtor in Napa." As in California, Carrie stammers out? No, Carrie dear -- "NaPa" is yet another new acronym for a neighborhood to the Park. That should probably be NePa, and could apply to just about any park in the city, but give me a break and spare me your hate mail. Big bought "half a vineyard. Technically it's three-quarters of a vineyard, but there's a dispute about a hillside." She hands off the pizza and stalks toward the fireplace, stunned. When was he going to call her? And from where? And why? Big is "tired of old New York." Hey, you know, his timing is pretty good. He'd be all down on Wall Street and shit, working, when the disaster went down. Plus, he's getting out while the market is not yet at its softest point. Oh, there I go with the context and the facts again. My bad! Let's just say this episode is a love letter and shit, shall we? Carrie jokes that if you're tired, you "take a nap-a, not MOVE to Napa!" There we go, back on (laugh) track. Carrie sits on a box and falls into it. Big laughs. Carrie says she needs a drink. One-point-five martinis should do it.
Sam lounges unhappily in bed, chewing chocolates and flipping the pages in a magazine. Richard walks in the door, three hours late, held up at the hotel. Sam says, "Richard, phone, have you two met?" He was too busy to call. Mmm-hmm. Sam complains bitterly that when she gets "cellulite, [he'll] have no one to blame but [himself]." Wow, just last week they were so happy together! Now he's being an ass, and she's totally become a shrew. I guess if you never learn to compromise, as all relationships require, it doesn't come easily. Or fast. I didn't think Sam would turn into such a clingy, needy love-hole all of a sudden. Or even that she'd wait three hours! Love is a bitch, isn't it? Or should I say, love is a cruel mistress. Or even quote the J. Geils hit, "Love Stinks." Yeah, yeah. Sam says she doesn't appreciate being kept waiting, particularly when she has a gift for him. Richard asks if it's really a gift, or sex. Wow, he's a jerk. She meant an actual, physical gift, one she bought herself to give to him. To celebrate "Richard's A Prick Day." The gift is art, a sequence of three red-and-black Warholian hearts. "The closest Samantha came to giving her heart to a man in a long, long time," Carrie so subtly VOs. Sam wants to hang the hearts in the bedroom, on the wall facing the bed. Richard looks over his shoulder at the spot on the wall, makes a face, and voila, the clock, she has barely a minute left on this relationship. Tick tick boom.
Carrie and Big are having wine. One box he left for the last moment of transport is his records and turntable. Carrie is shocked, and makes fun of the antiquity of some of his records. Jeez, did she never look at his record collection when they were together? She makes fun of Blood, Sweat and Tears, and Mancini. Now, since Carrie is a fashion hag and not a film buff, I can spare the rod for this one, but seriously, no appreciation for Mancini? The guy is huge, and has tons of great songs that span a wide range. Big puts the Mancini on the turntable, cued up to "Moon River." Wow, this takes me back to when I was at Circle in the Square and my scene partner, a big lug of a guy that looked like a boxer from the 1920s, took this sheet music to singing class and NAILED IT. He sang this song so beautifully, it blew everyone away. And, you know, a little movie called Breakfast at Tiffany's? Starring a beautiful woman who was a muse to Givenchy and a few other designers, maybe one of the first actresses to also be a clothes hanger? "Moon River" was in that movie, which also featured a certain city in a particular light. Which was also written by a guy writers should know about. Carrie. BRADSHAW. So don't call it corny, ya know-nothing bum. Big calls the song "classic," and recalls that his parents used to put this on before heading out on the town. Oh, wow, PARENTS perform that ritual of revving themselves up with music, too? Yikes. Big extends a hand to Carrie, pulls her up, and they dance together. Then the record starts to skip, interrupting their intimate moment via an irritating, oft-used device. Carrie pulls herself away, saying that Big owes it to "us," meaning New York City and her, to go out with a big splash. So Sunday night, they have a date. "Don't disappoint us, meaning" Carrie and Big. Wow, she includes others in her grandiose ideas! Is our girl growing up? Nah.
Over breakfast with the women, Carrie shares the news. Sam wonders where people go when they leave New York. Miranda says, "The real world?" Hee. Sars went to Toronto! ["I came back, though. I don't think that counts." -- Sars] In Philly, when people leave, they go to San Francisco. Or New Jersey. Carrie asks her friends' permission to fuck Big one last time. Miranda says no. "Okay, Quick-Draw, give it a second here!" Oh, Carrie. If you want to fuck the guy, just go ahead and do it. Do you really need approval from the committee? And what is with that gold pretzel necklace? Miranda still says no, bless her. Char asks if having sex with him again won't pull Carrie back into "all that Big stuff." Carrie ask that her homegirls give her a little credit, because "this isn't two years ago." Really? That bob sure is. Carrie pontificates some more about how Big is "a great man in [her] life, and he's leaving!" Oh, gawd. Miranda chirps, "Use a condom!" Hee. Sam intones that "this love stuff is a mothafucker." Love? Did she just say love? She sure did. Her name is Samantha, and she's "a loveaholic." Say it with them: "HI, SAMANTHA." Twelve-step jokes are also two years ago, people. Char says she always thought Car and Big would "end up together." Mir is all, no way! She thought Car and Aidan. Car is all, "This is very informative!" Oh, who cares -- it's the journey, people, not the destination. Gong.
Carrie types in her apartment. A piano tinkles sadly as she ponders love and fate. "Can we still take a wrong step? Can you make a mistake and miss your fate?" Maybe! But should we spend forever dwelling in the past and wondering how we misstepped? Or is moving on a good thing? Yeah.
Charlotte docents it up like a mother. She stands in front of Monet's "Waterlilies" and talks about the "luscious, tactile quality" of the canvas and how well he captures light and shit. I used to be into Monet, but then when the '80s costume jewelry maker of the same name came out with that slogan, "Monet creates the jewelry, you create the look," I got over it. This also reminds me of that episode of Buffy when they go to college and every freshman either has a Monet or Klimt poster, and that bitch of a head vampire says, "Freshmen. They're so predictable." Not that Monet isn't a perfect match for Charlotte; he's colorful, non-threatening, and has mass appeal. Anyhow, she leads her tour and notices a cute guy paying close attention. He was on the tour last week, too. He's "trying to get up the courage to ask [her] to dinner." She says she's just getting over a separation, and isn't ready. He says he understands, and just went through a divorce last year. She leads the group over to Jackson Pollock's "One," calling it "an almost overwhelming ex." She sees Trey strolling through the museum with his nasty bitch of a mom (who hates Monet), and stops. Then she says yes to dinner, and nimbly leads the group on to Gauguin, located in another wing of the museum far, far away from Trey.
Miranda and Steve are assembling a crib. Well, she's assembling the thing; he's reading off the instructions as she puts parts together. Finally, she screeches in frustration and grabs the instructions away from him. He was reading them correctly in the first place. Steve doesn't take the opportunity to point out that he was right, or that she's freaking out, because Mir has "forty pounds on [him]." Ah, fear. The great peacemaker. Mir says she was thinking of naming the baby Danny. I like it! I won't reveal my fave baby names, but I will remember the time I was in Target and heard some young mom hollering out, "Carson! Chandler! Brittany!" The three kids came stampeding up, and my jaw dropped. Those are TRL names! The horror. The horror. Steve goes on to say that he was thinking of Paul, and that his dad and granddad were named Paul. "It's a big name in the Brady family." Mir looks a little put off, as if the baby will be no part of the Brady family, so who cares about its name's lineage? Miranda is such a hard-ass. Steve says that both Pauls are dead, and the baby won't know them, and that Danny sounds "right. Hey, Danny, wanna go shoot some hoops?" Aww! Mir smiles, happy to have gotten her way. Steve gets a little verklempt as he realizes that they're building a crib for their son. Mir says sternly, "Steve, don't cry." Hee -- Mir has put a ban on any kind of crying or display of sentimentality. I myself have a ban on Sorkin.
Sam kisses Richard seductively. He demurs, saying he has work to do. She screeches, "If you want out of this, just say it!" Oh my god, Samantha is freaking! OUT! She asks why Richard hasn't hung the hearts she gave him yet. He isn't sure if they belong there. Sam yells that he means he isn't sure if SHE belongs there. Jesus Christ! Is she trying to drive him away? She asks where he was at lunch, when she popped into his office, and he says he was AT LUNCH, EATING. Sam isn't appeased. "Eating? EATING WHO?!" Finally she asks that he tell her he's fucking someone else and they'll "call it a day." He says he doesn't want out of it, but if she does, "this is a good way to go." Dude, seriously.
Sam and Carrie march down the street. Sam says bitterly that she's SURE Richard is fucking someone else. "The man was a tramp!" Carrie points out that since Sam is being faithful, "miracles happen." Sam says she'll follow him on his lunch hour wearing a wig from the Raquel Welch Wig Line. A "sassy shag, chestnut brown, cute," she says. Okay, Sam has lost her mind. Get the Zsa Zsa Gabor net in sassy sisal. Sam stole a key to Richard's apartment, and has it all figured out. Just as Carrie says she doesn't have bail money, she lays her eyes upon a pair of stilettos and coos, "Hello, lover." She says she's "needing them for [her] last Big night out on the town. Drinks, dinner, dancing, very old New York." Whatever that means. Will the men be wearing hats, and the ladies painting on their nylons with make-up? Or will it be Manhattan '80s-style, with cocaine and rubber jewelry and Danceteria? "Old" New York, grumble grumble.
Char's on her date with the museum guy. They have the bitter-tasting ex talk, and both admit that love "is tricky," and "like a fog." And yet, there they go stepping into it again. Without guns held to their heads. I'd love it if they both agreed that "people are stupid."
Char has her date up to her place for "coffee, and." He sees her palatial apartment and starts saying "wow" a lot. Then he freaks. "My first wife was an orthodox Jew, and now, you're a rich girl. Why can't I ever find a woman who's compatible to [sic] me?" Um, because there isn't a woman jerk big enough? Char gently shows him the door.
Carrie and Miranda walk the streets, with a honking umbrella over the both of them. Carrie says she's "given [her]self permission to sleep with Big, if it feels right." Mir says Carrie's "a big girl." Carrie asks to have that in writing. Oy. The baby kicks, and Mir says ow. And that she's "getting a little freaked." And will Carrie be in the room with her when the baby is being born? Mir says Steve will coach, but that she wants "something normal to look at." Hee, "normal." As if Carrie has any "normal" outfits. Maybe Pat Field can whip something up special. Carrie says she'll be there, but won't cut "any umbilical anything." Agreed.
So, we're in Central Park at night, with Carrie and Big in a buggy. The horse goes "clop clop clop clop." Big calls the buggy ride "corny." Seriously. Carrie gets all squinty and murmurs, "New York. Nyoo. York. Aren't you gonna miss it?" Big says nah, but he will miss her. They move in for a kiss. Woo! Then Carrie's cell phone rings. It must be the baby. Carrie struggles with her Jamin Puech bag (god, I love those bags) and answers it. Yup. Mir's in labor. Big bribes the buggy driver with $400 to drive them to 99th and 5th, stat. The horse clops faster, and soon they arrive at the hospital, which is so totally just a sidewalk across the street from the park. Carrie says goodnight, Big winks, she melts, then hops inside the building. Arrivederci, Big.
Mir is pacing inside her hospital room, trying to induce water breakage. Carrie is all, "You will do anything to prevent me from having sex with Big." Mir says Carrie looks pretty. Oh, Jesus. Finally, Mir remembers she's the one having the baby, and urges Carrie not to let anyone get "all cheerleader-y" on her, because she hates that "rah-rah, push-push shit." Hee. Mir's water breaks all over Carrie's new shoes. Carrie says it's okay. And the labor continues into lunch hour...
Be-wigged and white trench-coated, Sam follows Richard with a little stealth and a lot of slapstick. She scrambles into a cab and screams, "Follow that car!" Cabbie is all, "Are you fucking kidding me?" Hee. "Just GO," says Sam.
Sam sneaks into Richard's apartment and catches him in the act of going down on some nubile brunette. He looks up, with a glistening upper lip, and says, "It's just sex!" Sam is crushed, and smashes the framed hearts still lying against the bedroom wall, saying, "Now your heart's broken too!" Aw.
Labor. Carrie is wearing her scrubs, which are falling off her shoulders. Nice bra. Is that sanitary? Mir is stoic and strong. One nurse is too exuberant and needs shushing -- twice. Mir pushes with her feet on Steve's shoulders, looks into Carrie's eyes, and with a gasp, boom, pushes out the baby. Yay! Steve points out that the baby has "ten fingers, ten toes, two balls." Steve is psyched. And hands the baby to Carrie first, then Miranda. Explain to me why Carrie got to go first. Oh, right -- she's the center of the universe. Mir says she wants to name the baby Brady, now. As in Steve's last name. Steve starts to sniffle, and Carrie shakes her head "no." Aww!
Carrie comes wheeling out in her baby-birthin' booties, and tells Char the good news. Then she dashes off to try and catch Big. Um, remember the cell phone in the Jamin Puech bag? Carrie doesn't. Sam walks up, still be-wigged, and says bitterly, "Just what the world needs, another man." She and Char go off to see the baby.
Carrie walks in to Big's empty apartment. He's gone, baby, gone. But he left her the Mancini record with a note, "If you ever feel lonely." And an envelope, for whenever he feels lonely -- airline tickets.
Carrie walks down Park Avenue sadly, still in her date/baby-birthin' clothes. The leaves have turned a little bit. She picks one up and VOs, "Maybe mistakes shape our fate? Seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life, and people go. But the ones you love are always in your heart, and if you really need them, a plane ride away." The screen fades to black, then the dedication to "our city of New York...Then, now, and forever" fills up the space. I hate crying.