The City, the girl, the life.

I've just watched the Sex and the City movie - twice, I also saw it at the cinema about a year ago. As unrealistic as it is, it resonates. For the first 20 years of my life, I was convinced I was a country girl. I was raised on a farm and I loved the farm life. For the next 20 years I was convinced that I was a country girl living in the city. My dream was to buy some land and live self sufficiently (a.k.a. The Good Life). The film made me realise that I am a city girl that happens to have been raised in the country. End of story. Having spent a large proportion of my childhood and early adulthood with no close friends I was also convinced I was totally self reliant and a loner. I'm not. I miss my friends with an ache that gnaws at me - hence this blog - it's my substitute for conversation.
Living in the 'burbs has been like living in exile. For as long as I can remember I have stated, vehemently, that to put me in a brick venereal house in the suburbs would be my death. Yet here I am, have been for two years. The fact I am still alive and not in jail for homicide, is a testament to my strength of character. I look at the girls on Sex and the City and I look at myself and I say "this is not the script I wrote for myself". My unhappiness is explained. I'm not saying I want to be a stick thin, horse faced fashion victim that spends endless hours in cafes whining about men - but I need people around me - girl friends who understand and sympathise.
This past weekend one my dearest girlfriends came to stay. The husband was away at a course (learning how to counsel people to give up smoking and brushing up on his hypocrisy) so S flew up to keep me company. The husband left on Wednesday and was due to return Sunday night. I asked the girl if she would mind sleeping with me so S could have her bed. She was overjoyed and started sleeping with me from Wednesday night even though S wasn't arriving until Friday.
The weekend was it's usual manic mix of gymnastics, piano, puppy school and domestics except for that weekend I had adult female company. It was utterly wonderful. On Sunday night, after S had gone home and the husband had missed his plane, I had a night to myself and I watched Sex and the City and cried my eyes out.
The scene where Carrie beats Big with her bouquet and screams "I am humiliated!" and her friends gather her up and whisk her away, scowling at Big, protecting her - it gets me every time. When they are sitting in the restaurant in Mexico and Carrie is venting "he couldn't get out of the car! I put a bird on my head!" is another beautiful scene. That exclamation typifies the extremes women go to in their deluded attempts to please their men. I could exclaim "I watched cricket!" or "I drove a Barina!". We put birds on our heads and still it's not enough, our men won't even get out of the car.
Many months ago the husband and I had a huge fight and I jumped in the car and drove off. I got about 5 km away and wondered where the hell I thought I was going. I was wearing nothing but a bath robe, not even shoes or undies. I had no money, no ID and no ideas. I suddenly became concerned that the cops would pull me up and I'd have a lot of explaining to do. I drove to the lake and parked for about 30 minutes. I tried to sleep but it was too cold and eventually I needed to wee so I drove home. If I'd been in the city I would have had a choice of places to go, friends who would have not only given me clothes and money but much sympathy and a place to stay. I guess the point of that story is I miss having options. I feel trapped here.
And now the local council are delaying my return to the city - the longer it takes to get my house done the longer I have to live in exile.
I moved to Blanberra, I put a bird on my head, I need to leave and get back to the city before the bird starts crapping on my shoulder.