BoomerGirl Diary

When the early “Sex and the City” movie reviews started appearing a few weeks ago, I kept resisting them in a raw cookie batter kind of way.

I asked myself:

Hey, do I really want to gobble up spoonfuls of random opinions, knowing my stomach will ache later?

Or am I evolved enough, strong enough, wise enough to wait for the cookies to bake?

I decided to fight temptation and wait it out. I want to be surprised. When “Sex and the City” opens on Friday, I plan to sit in my multiplex of choice, all by myself and giggle and squirm as much as possible. I will luxuriate in whatever sexy cinematic fun comes my way. And I promise to keep my expectations in check.

It would be so easy to get Carrie Bradshaw-ed away, to pin all my hopes on a movie that can’t possibly match the brilliance of the beloved HBO series. A quick reality check reminds me that very few series have made the successful leap to film.

For every “Batman” and “Star Trek,” you get a painful batch of cringe-worthy misfires: “Bewitched,” “Beverly Hillbillies,” “Lost in Space,” “Miami Vice,” “The Honeymooners.”

“Dragnet” anyone?

My biggest fear is that “Sex and the City” will be terrible, which seems unlikely. They’ve rounded up all the usual suspects; the original cast members plus a few bonus players. Sure, I’ll be unhappy if Jennifer Hudson bombs as Carrie’s assistant, but I’m a big girl. I’ll survive.

It’s reassuring that Michael Patrick King, who wrote and directed much of the series, returns to call the shots here. He knows every character by heart. He knows what they can and cannot do; what beats ring true or false. Yes, the movie is in good hands… unless, God forbid, it isn’t. Four years away either helped King keep his perspective or tragically mangled his objectivity. That would be a sad and unforgivable thing for millions of “Sex” fans.

Another prominent worry: Is the fairytale ending projected in all the movie trailers and ads a cruel hoax? Do Carrie and Big and all the others live happily ever after? Or have we been conned? I’m telling you right now, that’s one twist I can do without.

No matter what, I plan to let my girlish excitement overrule my misgivings. I intend to fall in love with “Sex and the City” all over again, even if the movie version isn’t 100 percent wonderful in every way. I’m in it for the long haul, till the last credit rolls by.

I’m ready for a chick flick that’s Rated R for raunchy. I’m ready for my fix of super-pricey designer labels that will never grace my closet in this lifetime. I’m ready for love scenes that make me blush. Who needs Indiana Jones when you can have Carrie Bradshaw instead?

It’s the duty of every gal on the planet, young and old, to make “Sex and the City” the blockbuster it deserves to be.

I know I’ll be there. Save me an aisle seat.