When I told a friend that I was in break-up recovery, she didn’t hand me the name of her therapist, she lent me her “Sex and the City” Collector’s Gift Set. I had caught reruns of the show on the few nights I watched television outside of “60 Minutes” and “Frontline,” and while I loved the show for Samantha’s bawdy comments and Carrie’s commitment issues, every time I caught a rerun I learned the lesson that I needed. It became my modern-day version of the After-School Special, and I was hooked. So a month ago, between tears, I sat down with a glass of red Zinfandel, some dark chocolate, and started on all six seasons of its high-heeled wisdom. Keep reading »
Simply Irresistible
Frisky Chatter
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