Carrie VOs that when it's cold outside, New Yorkers head inside and look for ways to keep warm. Her scenario includes a corner table at a bistro, a tray of raw oysters, and Aleksandr's hand down her top. He's totally trying to cop a feel, right there at the table! Carrie, in her typical modest fashion, squirms a bit and whispers, "People are loooooo-king!" People are also gagging, rolling their eyes, and recommending that a room be taken out in either of Carrie's or Alek's names. Even a fake name would do. They just need to be sure to procure a room with enough room for the tree the two of them are sitting in. Alek keeps fishing around for some boob and says that no one is looking. Then, two men and a woman stroll up and boom, "Petrovsky!" Alek leaves his hand on Carrie's clavicle for another long moment as he greets his people, and then invites them to sit down. The woman say something about there being many restaurants in New York, but "everyone's at Pastis." I hate how some people brag and kvetch at the same time. I try to stick to one or the other. But then again, I don't live in Manhattan. Maybe it's a thing we in the provinces just wouldn't understand. Like a black thing. Alek introduces his homies -- a painter; Alek's youngish assistant; and the woman is the editor of Art Life magazine. The (sixtysomething) painter and the (fiftysomething) editor instantly begin congratulating Alek on his upcoming show at a gallery in Paris, his first show in six years. Alek is modest. Carrie, clueless. She is clearly hearing this news for the first time. The painter says of Alek's poker-faced modesty, "You are so full of shit." Alek says, "I never said I wasn't." The editor says, "Well, the world is waiting with breath that is bated." No pressure. And way to make Alek's show about people's expectations and not his actual work. I guess when you're that advanced in your career, it becomes that way; people expect your body of work to become more evolved and impressive and meaningful. So, no pressure, Alek! Just sparkle, Alek, spaaarkle!
Editor calls for menus and a wine list, and asks Carrie, "So, how are they?" Carrie scrambles to hand over a menu and says the oysters are just fine. No, Editor meant Alek's new pieces. Carrie falters, and says she hasn't seen them. What about that lightbulb thing that looked like a set remnant from the "Rock Your Body" video? It was very 1970s beauty parlor. Editor, in a vaguely superior tone, asks Carrie what she does. Is she an artist? No, a writer, Carrie says. Novels? No. And here's where Carrie gets very upward-inflected-tone and forehead-creasey and insecure. She writes a column? For a newspaper? The Times, asks Editor. No -- the New York Star? Wow, I know the art world is insular, but when an editor of a magazine doesn't know Carrie's fun, fluffy column, I have to question her judgment. People in journalism are the only ones who regularly read bylines, and to claim ignorance of a peer's work is a little rude. But then again, Carrie isn't a critic per se; she's a features kind of girl. I can see why Editor is ghettoizing her, but it isn't cool. Alek comes to Carrie's rescue and says her column is about men, women, and sex, and that it's very smart and funny. Aw! Sweet. Editor says she's sure it is. Alek says, "You aren't sure, you are snide." Editor opens her mouth, but doesn't protest. Because her number is 666 and we all have it. Alek leans over and grabs a leftover copy of the New York Star from a nearby booth and begins reading from it. Carrie protests and ducks her head and looks baleful and aghast and everything, but Alek still gets out a sentence about how no one has enjoyed the sixty-nine position since 1969. Assistant laughs and says it was funny. Carrie says that wasn't one of her "smartest." I'd call it a witty truism. Snaps up to Carrie. Oh my god, what am I saying? I'm identifying and appreciating Carrie? Wuh? Snuh? Who am I? Who's talking?
Charlotte, Anthony, and Miss Pretty Pretty Puppy Dog Elizabeth Taylor stroll the streets. A woman stops dead in her tracks and ejaculates the fact that Miss ET is the prettiest puppy in the whole wide world. Charlotte is loving it. Anthony, not so much: "That dog is getting cruised more than me, and we're on the corner of Gay and Gay!" Unlike the corner of Gay and Straight, as on QEFTSG, or the corner of Talentless and Lame, as on American Idol. Char says that maybe ET misses the show ring, since she's feeding so much off the love energy of all the people in the street. Anthony gripes, "She's a freaking attention whore." Then a hot guy says, "Cute dog," and Anthony screams, "Thank you!" Char wants to re-enter ET into competition; with Charlotte's love and guidance, ET will be a winner. Anthony is all, "What the hell, go for it. Nobody puts Baby in the corner." Char looks at him dubiously, and he yells, "Dirty Dancing! Hello!" Seriously! Stay gold, Anthony.
Miranda enters her new home in B------n, and it isn't with a look of joy on her face. The place is messy, under construction -- clearly a work in progress. So is Mir's attitude. She had to walk all the way from the subway in her shoes. Steve asks why she doesn't carry them and wear sneakers for that leg of the journey. He does not add, "Like everyone else in the world who has any sense." Miranda pulls a Call Her Miss Ross diva fit and says that Steve can take her out of Manhattan, but he can't try to take her out of her shoes. Um, Miranda? Back in Season 1 you wore skinny, almost New Wave ties and massive shoulder pads. You've come a long way, fashion-wise. It's okay to don cute sneakers when schlepping to and from work. May I suggest Pumas, or my favorites, Adidas with the fat laces? ["Maybe even a smart sneaker-styled mule or slip-on?" -- Wing Chun] Steve says that if Miranda refuses to sneak, she should stop complaining. Word, Steve. A thousand times, word. Miranda asks after her DSL line, adding that Steve knows she can't live without high-speed internet access. Steve says he was putting up sheet rock in Brady's room, and asks if she wanted their baby to "live without walls." Maybe just without borders. Steve does have good news: the mail arrived. Including Miranda's copy of Tattle Tale. She gasps hugely and runs to the couch, practically spooning the sleazy tabloid. Steve says he can't believe she reads that trash, and she's all, "It's my thing. Let it go." Then he starts, "Oh! Madga and Brady are...." Miranda cuts him off: "I'm reading this. You no longer exist." So that's how married couples make time to read. They turn their mates invisible! I have to remember to try that. "Love you, honey! Now you don't exist."
Stanford (eee!) and Marcus struggle to find a table at a busy restaurant (Pastis, maybe?), until Stanny sees Smith, having a drink with a woman with long black hair. Marcus says how hot Smith is in that Gus Van Sant movie. Oh yeah, that hot performance in that fictional movie. Stanny says that Smith may be a hot actor, "but can he pull off a fuschia Oswald Botang shirt?" I'd venture a guess and say yes, he can. Smith is doing everything right this season; why shouldn't he score perfectly clothes-wise, too? Stanny excuses himself and says he's a friend of Samantha's. The woman with the long black hair turns around and says, "I hear she's a wonderful woman." The two boyfriends "Ohmygod!" and kvell over Sam's new look. Marcus says, "It's very Jefferson Starship." No, that was more of a perm. I think Sam's hair is more Jefferson Airplane. With a touch of Star Trek thrown in. She's turning "a little hair loss into a lot of hair gain." Stanny says, "You're getting wiggy with it." Oy. I guess that means we can look forward to a wig parade. I had hoped Sam would be getting some more serious plot lines coming up, but no. Not yet, anyway. Oh well. Stanford and Marcus join them at their table. Some doofy-but-hot fanboy rushes up and gushes that his girlfriend is so hot for Smith. Can he have a picture? Only if he gets Smith's friends in the shot. Marcus lays his head on Smith's shoulder and grins hugely. It's a cute photo, but nothing to make a girlfriend kvell over.
Carrie lounges in bed with Alek and says she heard he's got a solo show in Paris. Ooh la la! Le finally! We have forever heard ze spoilers about ze show going to Paris, and now we have le confirmation! Alek downplays the show, saying he doesn't want to talk about his work when he has Carrie in bed with him. She says she wants to know, because it's important to him. She wants to know more about what he does, "if for no other reason than to avoid having this face in restaurants." Carrie makes an open-mouthed "duh" face that's pretty funny. Oh, my god. That's the second time this episode that I've liked Carrie. Liiightning is striiiiking a-gaaaaain! I'm scared. Alek laughs at her "duh" face and says he likes to keep his work life and personal life separate: "All this art talk is so fucking boring." Word. Shop talk is dull, dull, dull. But since Carrie isn't in that world, it might be fun to school her a bit. And yet it's so refreshing to meet an older, sophisticated man who isn't interested in being a Svengali. Carrie says that if Alek doesn't want to talk, then she has to get started on her busy day. He urges her to stay with him: "You're so New York! Stay here where it's warm." He pulls the covers over her head and she giggles. Now give her a Dutch oven!
Hee. This is funny. Scene: Brunch with the girls. Miranda clutches her copy of Tattle Tale to her chest and says to Sam quite seriously that Smith is featured in it. Sam -- in a platinum bobbed wiglet -- says that he's in that rag all the time. Mir intones, "Yes. But this time, he's gay." Sam is all, "Oh!" Hee. The photo caption is "Boys-s-s-s Night Out." Um. I'm sorry. "Boys-s-s-s"? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is that the phonetic spelling of a limp wrist? The pic is the one the fanboy took, and Sam's just cut out of it. Marcus is identified as a Broadway dancer, but Stanford is described as an "older gay gentleman." Oh, burn. Char says, "Smith is not gay!" Preaching to the choir, honey. But this would make Sam his beard. Sam chirps, "I'm a beard in a wig! And besides, when the gay rumors start, you know you're really a star!" Go, Sam. Way to not sweat the small stuff. Then Char's phone rings: it's Carrie. She's not coming. Sorry! It's cold and she's downtown. Char starts babbling, "Elizabeth Taylor is going to be in a dog show! My Elizabeth Taylor. Oh, and Smith is gay!" Miranda grabs the phone, and Carrie is all, "Smith is gay?" Mir snaps, "Don't try to change the subject. What do you mean you aren't coming? I came in all the way from Brooklyn!" Carrie says that Mir would use any excuse to come into the city. Mir says, "You owe me a trip to Brooklyn." Sam takes the phone and says it's too cold to come into town: "You stay downtown with your hot man." Carrie hangs up and groans ecstatically as Alek rubs her feet. Then she VOs that she did stay with her hot man for four whole days. Woo! And, glad she doesn't own any pets.
Carrie returns to her apartment with her column "tragically overdue." Slacker. It's hot in therre. She starts taking off all her clothes. She is getting so hot, she's gonna take her clothes off! She rushes to her answering machine (way to slack by not checking it remotely), and pushes the button. Beep! It's Big. They just bottled a new cabernet today, and it made him think of her. Carrie turns down her radiator and half-smiles, like, good, that's nice, don't really care. Two days later, Big calls back: "Playing hard to get, huh? Hey, I wanna talk to you. Call me." Beep! It's Big, for the third time. Did he do something to piss her off? Carrie tilts her head in surprise. She has the upper hand with Big? She...doesn't care that Big wants to talk to her? And...she doesn't really want to talk to Big?
There was a lot of debate on the forums about this. Was Carrie being rude? Aren't she and Big supposed to be friends? Well, when you have a relationship that volatile, sometimes you can't really be friends. I don't believe that men and women can be friends at all; meaning, you have to admit that there's some attraction there between the two. Just admit it; that's what friends are. There's an attraction. So now that Carrie is all enamored with Alek, and Big calls right when she spends four lazy days in a row with her new man, it makes perfect sense that she delete Big. She doesn't need him at the moment. She's happy. She's grown, she's moved on. It's a big moment. See what I did there? He isn't Bog anymore. He isn't even Big. He was. But not now.
Mir lights a fireplace log. Carrie relaxes in her hot pink suede boots, and then says, "I deleted Big." Mir is all, "Did you call him to tell him you deleted him?" No. Carrie doesn't know why he called. And she doesn't really care. Woohoo! See? Growth. And, things are getting serious with "The Russian." Carrie explains, "It's different, it's...grown up. There's no fuss, he tells me how he feels, all the time, unlike Answering Machine up there in Napa." Mir corks the wine and says, "Sounds perfect." Except for one thing. Carrie says that she and Alek have nothing in common besides each other. Mir says that she and Steve don't, either. Carrie says she had an idea of couples sharing things, like their passions. Mir says, "You want passions on top of passion?" Oh, boy. I feel Carrie right now. For the third time this episode! She's got hot love, but she feels they aren't on the same path together. No, that's me. Carrie just wants to share more things with her man. Yes, that's it. Steve comes in with a neighborhood delicacy: cheesecake cannoli. Yum! Carrie says dryly, "What a delightful borough." Yes, and you know what else they have in Brooklyn? Espresso! Isn't that a kick in the pants! He leaves, and then Carrie says she wants Mir to meet her Russian. Mir is all, "Can't wait!" I wonder if she means it.
Alek lurches into his kitchen, where Carrie sits with a thousand-watt smile. She's all, "How'd the work go? He's all silent. Carrie VOs, "So much for passions on top of passions!" But she shakes it off and keeps smiling as she invites him to meet her friends on Sunday night, since she's now met some of his friends. He says that most of this friends are in Europe, and that those tools at Pastis were not his friends. More importantly, he accepts. Carrie smiles. And "FYI," he has a friend in New York: Carrie. He says she isn't his friend, she's his lover, "and that is a much better thing." Carrie laughs fetchingly. God, I can't believe I'm so into Carrie this episode. It makes no sense! Alek asks her to come to bed with him, but she begs off, saying she has to go home to write her column. He says she can use his computer there: "Wery good for writing columns." She kvells at the thought of using his "fancy computer," and gives in to him.
Après bed (which we are spared from seeing, thank god). Carrie wonders: "Without sharing your worlds, can even the hottest of relationships stop cold?" She hits a button, and the word "cold" comes up in 48-point type across Alek's three monitors, and she jumps a little.
Samantha enjoys a pedicure with rose petals in the water. Lovely! She's wearing a pink wide-lapel suit and a strawberry blonde bobbed wiglet. She overhears two PR wags, X and Y, blabbing about Smith's appearance in Tattle Tale. Can X believe Smith is gay? Y says, "No one that good looking is EVER straight." But X thought he was dating Samantha Jones? Y says, "All this time I thought she had the best sex life in Manhattan, and it turns out she's just a fag hag." Sam gasps. This is TOO MUCH!
Boom boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom boom. DOG SHOW! Boom boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom boom. DOG SHOW!
Yes, we have dog show. It's so fucking adorable. Stanny and the girls (minus Charlotte) sit in the stands and look at all the adorable doggies. Ohh! So cute! Stanny grumbles at being outed in Tattle Tale, and at being called an "older gentleman." He whines, "How did they know I was gay?" Reaction shot amundo. Sam (in a long blonde wig) grumbles about being called a fag hag: "There goes years and years of fucking everything in Manhattan." Mir reminds her not to sweat the small stuff. Samantha squeals, "I can't have cancer and be a fag hag!" Carrie invites Sam out for drinks with the Russian, and Stanny says he's in for that too. Carrie negs his coattailing; it's just the girls this time. Poor Stanny! He whines, "What am I, your older unidentified gay friend?" Aww.
Backstage, Anthony helps Charlotte blow out ET's lustrous hair. Char thinks that ET has a shot at winning this thing! She's wearing a tennis sweater, which doesn't seem that appropriate for a dog show. I mean, neither are sequins, but I've seen those. Tweed, Char, tweed! Anthony bitches that with "all these little faggy dogs here, you'd think there'd at least be one big muscle circuit gay here. Nothing. Just thick-legged ladies and tweedy old queens." Wow, does he have the dog show set pegged. And I'm just a casual observer. But there certainly are a lot of thankles at the dog show. I've seen better legs on pianos. Char spritzes the air, and then Anthony asks if she cut herself with a scissors. "There's little drops of blood everywhere." Oh, no. Elizabeth Taylor got her dog period! She's in heat! Carrie comes up and asks how things are going. She gets two sad faces, and then Anthony blurts out, "Aunt Flo's in doggie-town! Show's over!" Ha! Char says that ET can still compete, and that Charlotte herself won a junior gymnastics competition when she was on her period. Anthony says, "It's a DOG. What are you gonna do, run around looking for a teeny tiny tampon?" I LOVE that he said "teeny tiny." LOVE IT. Carrie laughs, then apologizes, and then laughs some more.
Carrie returns to her friends, and says, "Trouble!" Mir says she thought ET looked bloated. Stanny adds, "And she was so bitchy earlier." Hee. And here come the toy dogs! Char's wearing a kilt, that tennis sweater, and off-white suede boots. Very cute outfit, but I don't think it's right for a dog show. It's kicky, casual, and cute, but not right for the event. And ET is so cute!
Final five of the toy group. Miranda has caught Dog Show fever and stands up, screaming feverishly for ET. ET blinks languidly. Char bats her eyes and swings her hair when the judge comes over to her. It's very Betty Boop-ish, but it's working: the judge is clearly taken with her charm. Is that how she won the gymnastics competition, I wonder? Then a teeny drop of blood falls onto her boot. She smiles and bats and tosses her WASP-y little heart out. It works. First prize! First prize! Anthony touches the arm of the one hot guy there and says, "That's my friend." Char takes her victory lap around the ring in slow-motion, as Carrie VOs: "To the judge, she was best in show. Period." Oy. Exclamation point.
Après dog show, a silver-haired gentleman approaches Sam. (Love Sam's Chanel bag and mink-trimmed coat, by the way.) Could the guy have Smith's phone number? Sam says she's fucking Smith Jerrod. The man laughs condesendeningly and says, "Please." Grrr. It's enough to make a girl's wig crooked!
So, Sam makes a sex video. With Smith. She commands him to fuck her doggy-style. "Hey, it worked for Paris Hilton. I need to set the record straight. Literally!" Oy. Oh, and could Smith please say that "Samantha Jones is one hot piece of ass, he could fuck her all night long, Samantha Jones." Smith doesn't care that people think he's gay, though. Sam doesn't care. This isn't about him. Carrie VOs that the day, those PR wags get a triple-x from FedEx.
Boom boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom boom. DOG PARK! Boom boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom boom. DOG PARK!
Char, Harry, and ET enjoy a day out at the dog park. Harry encourages Char to let ET off the leash. But, she's still OTR. Riding the teeny tiny cotton pony. You know, not at her best, because her dog vagina is bleeding. So the other dogs try to "gang-bang" her. This is kind of funny, but also ridiculous. Cartoony to the max. I love that a terrier is the first one to mount ET. My dog, Artie, is a terrier just like that one. He has a Friendster.com profile too! If your dog has a profile on there, make him or her friends with my dog. I love doing that. Then, a collie runs up. Then, it's a pile-on. Char freaks out.
The girls hang out at Asia de Cuba ["Oh my God, I've totally eaten there! I'm cool!" -- Wing Chun], waiting for Carrie's "lover de Russia." Sam, in a Foxy Brown afro wig, says that ET's getting gang-banged is "so '80s!" Oh, boy. Carrie's cell phone rings. It's Alek. He can't come. He's sorry. When she hangs up, the waiters bring champagne over. Woo hoo! Now that's attention to detail. Speaking of detail, everyone looks fabulous. Carrie's in pink evening gloves and a beautiful white and silver beaded dress. Mir's in a rust-colored beaded tank, Sam's in a red dress and great long earrings, and Char's in a '70s-looking black halter dress. Lovely! Really pretty all around. The girls are disappointed but understand; Alek's working, he has the big show in Paris coming up, and he couldn't get away. Carrie suggests cracking open the bottle and, when it's done, going over to Alek's studio to meet him: "He's always saying I should be more spontaneous!" Whoops. I smell backfire.
The elevator slides up to Alek's studio. The sound of drunken giggling spills out. Oh, boy. I know that sound. It's the too-much-champers- on-a-Sunday-night sound. It's a lovely noise. Carrie weaves drunkenly over to the studio door, and Sam tells her to wait: "Sister's gotta get ready!" She whips out an afro pick and combs her wig. Wow. Was the purpose of Sam's cancer really just for her to parade around in a bunch of wigs, and for Carrie to learn to listen? If so, mission accomplished. We get it. Wigs and evolution of a character, the end. And I was really hoping Sam could get to do more this season. Oh well. There are three whole episodes left.
Carrie knocks on the studio door, and then knocks again. She should knock three times on the ceiling if she loves him. Twice on the pipes (clang clang) if the answer is noooo. Finally, Alek opens the door, but he isn't happy to see her: "When I say I'm vhorking, I'm vhorking. Sorry, guys, we meet another time." Then he closes the door on Carrie's disappointed face. The tableau of the three friends is great. Sam and Char have those bright, fake smiles on, like, "It's okay your lover shut us out, and closed the door in your face! All is cool!" And Mir is sitting there looking like she wants to punch the guy out. It's so classic. Mir is my hero. She's so blunt and sensible and honest with her emotions, if a little neurotic. I think she's grown the most. Fashion-wise, she has for sure. Remember when she wore ties all the time? She was like Duckie from Pretty in Pink. Then the girls beg out of seeing the apartment. Char offers to share a cab, but Carrie decides to stay at Alek's.
Miranda comes home to Steve, saying she's "so glad to be home." And she's glad he loves her friends, and that he brings her cannoli and cheesecake and puts up walls and everything. Steve says she's really gonna love him when she finds out he put in her DSL line. Woohoo! They make love.
Après sex, Mir surfs the web. She heads right to "Celebrity Scandals -- caught on tape!" It's her thing, let it go. Guess what she sees? Sam and Smith, doggy-style. What, no froggy-style? Come on. She slams down the laptop and runs back to bed with Steve. Carrie VOs that it cooled Miranda's love of gossip for good. Noooo! Gossip is a victimless crime, as long as you say it with love. And no one finds out the shit you say about them. Heh.
Morning. Carrie rolls over, still smarting a little about how Alek treated her friends the night before. She rolls into his studio with a mission: to talk to him.
Carrie strides in, all business, and then really looks at Alek. Is he okay? No, he is not fine. Did something happen? He asks him to talk to her. Alek finally looks at her and says, a little tearfully, "What if it's not enough? Six years." Carrie comforts him, admitting that she knows nothing about his work, but that he "is brilliant." He mutters, "The world is waiting with breath that is bated." Carrie says, "She's just an uptight bitch." Tell it, woman. Alek smiles. Carrie says Alek should talk to her. "I may not understand, but I'll listen." Sometimes that's all that matters. Alek takes a breath and begins. "Yesterday, I looked up and the whole thing looked so utterly stupid and meaningless and childish....." The camera pulls back as Carrie tilts her head, listening, and the VO goes, "It's a cold hard fact. Sometimes there's not enough time in the night for both your worlds."