Ok, I have a confession. First though, I need to preface it with a disclaimer. My husband and I are both converts to the Church, for me it has been three years, and for DFM is is just over a year. We are both still working out all the kinks involved in the changes to our lives and what is expected of us. Sometimes we do better than others, and some things we have not struggled with at all.

Both of us have turned off movies that we no longer enjoy, and I think this is actually a good thing, considering how desensitized we had become. We do well with the word of wisdom and have never had a problem with tithing. We try and do good each week, not always with success, but the intent is there, and we are both working on President Hinkley’s BoM challenge. But I have a dark little secret…

I dearly love the show Sex and the City. It is totally my guilty pleasure, and I am powerless to try and stop that affection. The artist in me is totally ok with that- I love the excellent writing, the on-location sets, the characters, the lighting, the stories, almost everything about it.

Perhaps it because of the bohemian life I used to live, but sex does not shock me, neither does it embarrass me. Watching the stories of these four women and the turns their lives take is just plain enjoyable- and while I cannot necessarily relate to every situation, there are many that are familiar to me. This kind of ties back to my post yesterday about the paintings I no longer display; they are part of me, but I keep them hidden now. That is kind of like what Sex in the City is to me. It is no longer the life I live, but I know it’s there, and sometimes kind of fun to look and see how we have changed.

That said, many of my friends would blanche at the very thought of watching something so risque and would probably classify it as pornography. To me, there is a huge difference between pornography and fine art that may portray nudes. But I think nude art is perfectly ok, and some of my favorite classes in art school were figure drawing classes. Some of my own very favorite and best paintings are nudes, and this does not bother me in the least. The idea of editing fine art, covering paintings like The Odalisque, or statues of David or Venus is appalling to me, and I find myself wondering if sometimes the modestly thing is carried a tad too far. Not that Sex in the City is in the same league as Michelangelo, but I digress…

But… but… but… I am in a stable, loving and totally faithful marriage with the man I will be with forever, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So is it really so bad to have a guilty pleasure or two? Yeah, I know what the GA council would be, and that really should be the end of the discussion… but… but…but… (close up on my fingers clutching the doorjamb as I am unwillingly dragging myself from the room)

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