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I Am Not Carrie Bradshaw

Anyone who knows me, knows I am slightly obsessed with Sex and The City.  I have watched the complete series (along with the two movies) so many times I have lost count.

Beyond my slight obsession with Sex and the City, I am obsessed with Carrie Bradshaw.  I pretend to be Carrie Bradshaw (especially when I blog).  I even have a friend that calls me Ms. Bradshaw when she talks to me.

I have often referred to myself as the Carrie Bradshaw of Trumann, and even call my best friends my Samantha (and my other Samantha, I have two of them in my life), Miranda and Charlotte. 

Since I often find so many similarities in my life with that of the fictitious Carrie Bradshaw (great style, great friends, lots of shoes, lots of mishaps dating) I try to find those similarities everywhere.

In my last post I mentioned that there may or may not be something brewing in the "love" department.

This was with my "Mr. Big".  The one that has hurt me sooooo many times I have lost count.  The one that, no matter what, I will run back to.  My reasoning always being "If Mr. Big can change, so can anyone."

After this last go around with my Mr. Big (who let's face it is nowhere near as handsome or rich as Carrie's Mr. Big), it has came to my attention why my reasoning is so messed up.

I am not Carrie Bradshaw.
This man is not Mr. Big.
My life is not based on a novel or produced by Darren Star.

I am Megan.
This man is a jerk.
My life is real.

And that's just fine with me.

Love you guys,

The Still Single, Still Fabulous, and 20 pounds lighter Carrie Bradshaw of Trumann, Megan

20 Pounds, gone...even my thumb looks thinner :)



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