I've literally watched hours upon hours of Sex and the City this week. I was almost afraid that I was near an overdose after finishing an hour of Sex and the City on TBS only to follow it with almost 3 hours straight of Sex and the City the movie.
It really got me thinking about things.
I confess, I don't think much about the present. (Boo hoo, what a tragedy, I know. But really what is there to think about if I know the events that will take place the next day. What can I say? I live a monotonous life.) I'm one of those people that think a lot about the future. Not exactly planning anything out but just thinking about all it could be. It's fascinating. The future is this blob of empty space that can be filled with whatever we want. Nothing's permanent or constant. There are no forevers. It's simply a void of nothingness. And yet we're propelled into it by the sole hope of turning it into something.
I humor myself sometimes though. I think about a guy that I've know for years and I try to picture his life 20 years from now and amazingly, the image I create is not too far from that of Mr. Big. In fact, I think that he's the teenage version of the man himself. I think about another guy, an actor friend. And I see him turning into this incredibly sexy New York waiter, waiting to break into the industry. I confess that right now he may not be the "Hottest Guy" but he's charming, impossibly cool, and blonde. His future just screams Smith Jerrod. And maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself with this one but I see another guy friend of mine, an excellent writer, undeniably hilarious, and he even has dark hair, morphing into a future version of Jack Berger.
And while I never manage to think up future Samanthas, Charlottes, Carries, or Mirandas, I can only hope that I'll be lucky enough to meet 3 amazing friends in some chic European city, adding to the plethora of 'Fab Four' groups that populate every other cosmopolitan city.
You know, the future doesn't seem too bad if you think about it long enough. (Perhaps that's why I spend my time building mockups of it in my head, only to erase them completely and start one after the other, each one a little different from the last.)
It's getting there that seems like hell.
No worries though. I think we all have our own cities. Places where that blob of nothing melts and molds into something. Maybe into a Mr. Big or a Charlotte York or a Steve or a Carrie. Somewhere, it's waiting for us.
We'll all get to where we're going--but we'll get there when we're meant to be there.