My very own financial cul-de-sac.

Yeah, it's another Sex and the City reference.* DEAL WITH IT.

Some days I fear I will never be able to get out of the financial hole I have dug for myself. I went to private school for SEVEN years and now pay for it handily each month. I have worked at jobs that just didn't pay quite enough to allow me to live in a rather expensive city. I really, really (I mean, REALLY) love to go out to eat. I also REALLY love to cook and to buy nice ingredients. (Seriously, I POUT if P.I.C. suggests we end up purchasing our meat or seafood from Dominick's.) Of course, this means that I tend to live above my means.

Sigh.

Getting married this year also crimped my financial situation. Well, that and the SIX other weddings to which we have been invited in this calendar year (P.I.C. being in one, me being in one). AND...our long over-due honeymoon means that every extra penny is going toward some aspect of making sure we get fed while in Spain.

Sigh.

ONE BIG SIGH.

I know, WAH WAH WAH. I got marrrrried. I have to pay for my HONEYMOON. I can't eat at fancy restaurants all the time. I have to BUDGET. (WHINE WHINE WHINE.)

Despite feeling panicky quite often about money, I get by. Furthermore, I really do love my life and there is not a lot I would change about it. (Well, I might require that public servants get the occasional raise. I mean, I did go to school for seven years. I would think that should stand for SOMETHING.) I sure hope that after this year (and our whirlwind trip to St. Thomas in January for P.I.C.'s best friend's wedding) we might have a little bit of a breather from showers and weddings and stuff.

This post has no purpose other than to whine about my consistently first world problems. I would apologize, but it's my blog. So I can whine WHENEVER I CHOOSE.

* For those of you not "in the know," this particular statement came from the episode in which Carrie is faced with the prospect of having to buy her apartment. It is shortly after she and Aidan break up (the second time).

My new thing: Confessions Monday.

Lately, I haven't been as great and diligent at my writing. Much of the reason for that is my upcoming wedding. I feel as though my whole life revolves around getting my business in line for that. Honestly, I don't want to talk much about it any more! I just want it done.

So I decided: Let's do something different. It won't be about my wedding (usually). It will be informative for my casual reader because...I shall be telling you a CONFESSION each Monday. And if you don't care to read my confessions, I don't care much. I just need some way to exercise my writing muscles and this might help.

So, for the inagural confession Monday, I shall confess this: I ACTUALLY LOVE SEX AND THE CITY.

Sigh. I am embarrassed by my love for the show. I own the entire series and have watched it so many times that some of the discs no longer play. This is especially a problem when there are certain episodes I can no longer play. For example, I can no longer watch the episode where Miranda starts hooking up with her marathon buddy and they deal with the "butt-licking" issue. That is a particularly hilarious episode that I can no longer watch. This makes me sad.

When an ex-boyfriend bestowed these DVDs on me years ago, he had no idea of the ramifications. I would begin with Season One, the Pilot (you know, when Carrie had brown hair and would speak directly into the camera) and watch a few episodes each day. When I finished with the end of Season Six (Part Two), I would start over. Again. And again. And again.

I do feel slightly shameful about this. Then again, such is the nature of a confession: something about which you feel shame. Right?

Let it be known that I do not live my life like a Sex and the City girl. I do not buy expensive shoes (my budget does not allow it). I do not drink Cosmopolitans (I think they are rather gross). I do not sleep around. My friend and I do not identify ourselves with the characters, unless we are doing so in jest. I am not going to move to NYC anytime soon to "find love." (As an aside, did anyone else think that plot line in the first SATC movie was ridiculous? Who moves to a city to find LOVE?) I found my love in Chicago. So I'm good. I might drink champagne too much, and I might have a few girlfriends with whom I adore getting together and either eating and drinking ourselves silly, or just getting together and playing games, I am no SATC girl.

Honestly? I think the show is highly entertaining. I love New York. I love their clothes. I even love Carrie's stupid puns. I love the crazy situations. And yes, I can identify with some of the themes and feelings involved. I don't delude myself and tell everyone that my life is like an episode of SATC. (Says the girl with FABULOUS in her blog title. Sigh.) I am who I am. And who I am? I am a girl who loves SATC. Deal with it.

There you have it. My first confession of many. Maybe.