Home alone on a Friday night, I've indulged in Moe's chicken nachos (not as good as Qdoba!) and the SATC movie. Unthinkably, I hadn't seen the entire film until tonight. In October of 2008, I watched the majority of it at my gal pal's house the morning after her bachelorette party -- didn't get to see it all because hubs came to pick me up about the time Big and Carrie were supposed to get married. Hubs had to take me to retrieve my car from some dank alley in downtown Louisville, as I'd cabbed it back to said girlfriend's place at the end of that night with the drunkest of them. In truth, my car was parked in a gated lot at my uncle-in-laws office. I'd began that evening at a posh party for Underwired magazine, which hub's aunt and uncle also attended. While drinking free wine and eating fancy food, I met two fabulous lady writers, the wonderfully feministic Javacia Harris and the ever effervescent Maisy Fernandez Draper . I was the teensiest...
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