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Dawn's Column Everyone Loves A Good "Sex" Party
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I know what you're thinking... You think this column is about sex. Well it's not. It's about Sex with a capital "S."

Sex and The City was coming to the big screen. I'd been thinking about "Sex" for weeks. Everywhere I looked: Sex, Sex, Sex.

I had to see it, but there was one major problem: my significant other had no interest in going to see this chick flick and none of my local girlfriends ever really watched the show. I know, it's shocking. Who doesn't like Sex?

I didn't want to go to the movie alone, I had to see it with friends, and I didn't want to wait until it came out on video. I had a dilemma. I decided to text message one of my partner-in-crime college girlfriends who lives three hours away and who is a huge fan of Sex. I just knew that Gloria, a.k.a. Glo, would be having a party.

I lamented to her about my situation. She told me that she and a group of her girlfriends were having dinner, getting a limo, having drinks at the country club and then going to the movie. It sounded fabulous and I was envious.

She told me I needed to be there - only $40 per person for everything. What a great deal, but gas for a three-hour drive one-way would cost a fortune. Luckily, I have a generous boyfriend who told me I could use the time to refresh and to put my trip on his gas card.

I was so excited, and then I started to wonder if we were all going to go out after the movie. I knew that the 10 p.m. showing of the movie meant it would get over around midnight. Would the girls want to hit the town? That would be... tiresome.

Back in my heyday, going out late would've been the expected plan. I could party until the wee hours. But now, instead of making late night toasts, I knew I'd just be toast around midnight. Back when Glo and I were in college, we never left the bar early - unless it was to go to another bar.

The fact that I thought I'd be too tired to go out after the movie made me feel old. I also became concerned that my strappy high heels would start hurting my feet before the night was over. I actually considered putting a pair of flat sandals into my purse. How lame of me to worry about actually being lame.

In the movie, the characters, who are in their 40s, walked miles on New York City sidewalks in Manolos. Talk about fantasy. There's just no way - and I'm younger than they are.

I arrived at Gloria's house and got there in time to find her fixing her hairdo. I was already beautified, so I just primped a little while I waited for her. Another girlfriend showed up and wanted to borrow a pair of Glo's shoes. Guess what? She, too, was worried about her feet hurting at the end of the night. Turns out we all were. I didn't feel so bad anymore. So we all put a spare pair of flats into Glo's gigantic, gold designer purse.

We headed out the door to another friend's house around the corner where the final Sex and The City episode was playing on the big screen TV and the cosmopolitans were flowing. This is where things started to get interesting.

Ten women wearing high heels and lots of bling raised our martini glasses and prepared for the "Big" night. For those of you who don't know Big, you obviously don't know Sex.

We noshed on various dips and finger foods. There was even a chocolate fountain with lots of goodies for dipping, but hardly what I would call a true dinner.