Me and the girls

I'm in the middle of Season 2 in my "Sex and the City" marathon. This is my second go-around with the HBO series. The first time, I quit midway through the first disc. I just couldn't get into the lives of these attractive, accomplished women with their designer clothes, handbags and shoes, whose days and nights seemed to revolve around shopping, partying and the search for Mr. Right.

But I have to admit, this time it's different. Part of the difference, obviously, is that I've spent more time in New York City. I really enjoy seeing the sights and sounds of Manhattan in the background. Maybe sometime I'll even take in the "Sex and the City" tour of Manhattan to see for myself where Carrie and company partied, lived, shopped worked and ate.

And I'm really looking forward to the "Sex and the City" movie scheduled to be released in May. Luckily, they'll all be there - Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie, Kim Cattrall as Samantha, Cynthia Nixon as Miranda, Kristin Davis as Charlotte, and Chris Noth as Mr. Big. I'm also eagerly anticipating Oscar-winner Jennifer Hudson's first post-Dreamgirls role as Carrie's assistant.

I've realized that the writing in the series is actually pretty clever, with some great one-liners, like when the group takes in a Yankees game, and Carrie observes: "Miranda was a huge fan of the Yankees. I was a huge fan of being anywhere you could smoke and drink at two in the afternoon without judgment."

Sometimes, the situations the women find themselves in are pretty absurd, like Charlotte falling for a man she meets at a funeral, only to discover that she's not the only one comforting the bereaved, or Miranda being horrified by a man who says with pride that he hasn't left Manhattan in a decade, or Samantha finding herself exiled from the social scene for trying to seduce a "celebutante's" husband, or Carrie ruining a relationship when the guy discovers her prying open a locked box she found in his closet, which was filled with his Boy Scout merit badges.

I like spending time with these women. And somehow, the misadventures just make them seem more human. We've all had moments in our lives that seem absurd, that make us wonder how we got ourselves in the middle of them, and how we will ever get out. And "Sex and the City" doesn't take itself too seriously, at least not yet. Some of the situations are pretty hilarious and the show seems to realize that. It's like the writers are winking at the audience, tongue planted firmly in cheek.

Luckily, I have many more witty moments to go, many more scenes of Manhattan, before I get to to the end. I'm just hoping that when I get there, it's not a pat Hollywood ending, with everything neatly packed in a box and tied up with a pretty, pink bow.