This is me: not a trendsetter. Out of the loop. I am totally uncool. I never follow the crowd. In fact, way back in the day, I was what some might consider borderline counter-culture. Is anti-establishmentarian a word? If it is, I was that long-haired, tree-hugging, Earth Shoe-wearing, Grateful Dead-listening, hippie chick.

Of course, people change. They evolve. Sometime during the fall of disco, I started to gain an appreciation for really cute high heels and silk dresses. But no matter how hard I tried to bring myself to the next level, I was faced with the fact of who I am: a regular woman with an alternative lifestyle background now living a regular life.

That’s why Sex and the City the novel was such a deliciously tantalizing read. Candace Bushnell’s peek at the escapades of four working women looking for love/lust in New York City was so far removed from my actual life of husband and babies and so brilliantly told that I was instantly swept up into the story.

When Sex and the City the TV show aired, it was a stunning visual candy store mixing the allure of high fashion with a backdrop of one of the most interesting cities on the planet. As we all know by now, the actresses portraying the four “girls” (Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie; Kim Cattrall as Samantha; Cynthia Nixon as Miranda; Kristin Davis as Charlotte) were successful in combining personal chemistries with sharp conversation that was smart, funny, and endearing all rolled into one.

Now Sex and the City: The Movie has been released. I prefer my movies to arrive with the convenience of a weekly Netflix envelope, and would have gladly waited for the DVD release. It’s been a long time since I’ve entered the darkened confines of a theater, but I was coerced by my 17-year-old daughter who claimed an urgent (yet highly unusual) need for mother-daughter bonding. With that in mind, we ventured out last night into the chaos that is now the Sex and the City franchise.

With my daughter’s girlfriend in tow, we settled into the plush seats at the Birmingham Paladium, just us and three hundred other giggly girls. Add to the mix two balding middle-aged men, who arrived unattached (to other women and each other) and were definitely out of place in a room screaming with estrogen.