One of my dearest friends, PR, categorized each of the roommates as one of the characters from Sex in the City.
PR: “Well let’s see. Boot you are most definitely a Charlotte. Motherly, you are too. I’m definitely Carrie. Nelson, you are a bit of Samantha and a bit of Miranda.”
Initially offend, I started to think about how I got the mixture of the poorly dressed, career chasing slut. Was I really so career driven that I didn’t see what was right in front of me? Maybe. Yes. Well ok fine. I don’t like acknowledging that sometimes what I need is right in front of me. I am far too damn independent to admit that to myself or anyone else. And when I do, the shit just hits the fan. I’m comfortable just being with myself and my career. Alone. But I don’t really like to be alone. So now I’m just overly complicated. Yep. That pretty much sounds like Miranda.
Did I really dress that bad? Well no, but I did dress for comfort so I can see that. Girls show up decked to the 9’s. Well I could do that to but I’d rather go in a pair of hot shorts, comfortable heels, and a stylish shirt. Hair up and not holding my purse. Could I do a mini dress and heels? Absolutely and look gorgeous doing so, but I like to be able to move in my dress and feel my feet the next day. Jeans and a sweet tee is where it’s at. Another point for Miranda.
Was I really a slut like Samantha? Er, well, kind of. I mean I felt completely justified in all my actions, but so did Samantha. Damn. I don’t spread Christmas cheer like Samantha though. That’s good on me. But I do know exactly what I want and I generally get it. I exert confidence in everything that I do. Charming people is just a part of my job and boy have I devoured some men in my life, not that they minded. Yep. There’s team Samantha.
So I guess PR called it right. I am a Samantha/Miranda. An overly cocky, occasionally well dressed, confident smartass, who enjoys the chase and the challenge. And now this sounds like a personal advertisement.