Neurotic Women and the Men Who Love Them

A few months ago I read The Queen of Babble by Meg Cabot. A few years ago I read Bridget Jones's Diary and its sequel. Now I'm watching episodes of Sex and the City. My God, it hurts.

But wait, you say, if it hurts, why read/watch them? Okay, I'll grant you that there's enough funny stuff thrown in to entertain me. My beef, however, is the neurotic women who are obsessed with love and looking for "the right man." How dumbass is that? "I need to find the right man" is a horribly anti-feminist idea. Yes, we, as humans are obsessed with romance (i.e. sex) but come on. The cherry on the sundae, though, is that we have these freaking-out, neurotic, obsessive women who actually find Mr. Right. How? They somehow stumble onto him, do everything in their power to make themselves look like an ass in front of him, and he loves them anyway, for no discernible reason. What the hell?

In an episode of Season One Sex and the City we have our heroine obsessing that Mr. Big is trying to hide her. She's the girlfriend he won't admit to, she thinks. So, she ends up drunk and decides it'd be a good idea to show up at his apartment in the middle of the night. Mr. Big answers the door in a robe and messy hair, she's obviously woken him. Then she accuses him of being ashamed of her, spills vodka on the floor and what does he do? He starts kissing her. Something is wrong here. Very wrong.