Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Charlotte and the pudding



I love Charlotte. I've always loved Charlotte. She's so positive and sweet and actually pretty honest considering how positive and sweet she is. When she appeared as one of Carrie's supportive friends in the movie version of Sex and The City, the writers did something fantastic with her character.

Remember the scene where Carrie beats Big with her bridal bouquet in a fit of rage on the street corner? Ah, haven't we all wanted to be that woman? Beating a man who broke our hearts with a bouquet of flowers. Somehow it was funny. Yet sad and poetic. Charlotte grabbed her friend and as Big took a step towards them with that stupid stupid "what...who....me?" look on his face, Charlotte put her hand up, shot him a death stare and screamed, "NO!"
Here it is. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mV81fil6YNc&feature=related

Brilliant. Coming from the most mild mannered of the women in the story, it was especially brilliant. I know most of the world has no idea what the big deal is with that show, and that's OK. I made Highlander watch that part, anyway.

The other part of the movie that was pretty brilliant was (unfortunately for Charlotte) kind of crappy.

Ha.

Anyway, Charlotte goes along with the rest of the women to Mexico on Carrie's honeymoon (Big not included) but she brings little packs of pudding along. Charlotte fears food poisoning. She's at an all inclusive four star resort, but she's still in Mexico. As much as I love food, I also have a fear of food poisoning. For some reason, if anyone at the table is going to get poisoned, it's always me. I may not be the sweetest of my friends (ha. again) but I am, like Charlotte, the most likely to end up in the hospital with a stomach bug.

Which is why my upcoming trip to the Northwestern corner of our fine state is starting to worry me. There are 14 packets of Maple Brown Sugar Instant Oatmeal in my suitcase and six bottles of water. I'm praying the quaint little motel we're staying in has a microwave. We are going to a funeral. Highlander has a dead relative who was a pretty important guy, so off we go with the kids in the backseat.

I've been to enough church basement funeral lunches in my time to know that it is absolutely essential to the health and well-being of my stomach to avoid any food that has a white sauce, juice, glaze, or haze to it. Let's face it. Iowans think death requires Mayonnaise laced food.

At my own Grandmother's funeral, my entire family contracted food poisoning from some party potatoes that were laced with e-coli. I did not. My no-white-food-at-funerals rule saved me. It saved Zoe, too. I was three months pregnant with her. The situation was ironic because in life, my Grandmother would never even eat food from a dented can. Her sister used to say, "Well, Jenny, you won't die of poisoning, anyway."

And neither will I.

Not this weekend, anyway.