{some autowitting}

Finished! The bifecta of Bridget Jones. Liked them a normal amount, as I figured I would, since I feel the same way about the movies. Overall, I think the movies did a great job of adhering to the books. Small changes included cutting out a lot (had to be done, that Bridge just gets up to too many shenanigans!) and some character changes, most notably in Bridget’s mother and Mark Darcy (somehow I just could not see Colin Firth getting sidetracked by soccer or glancing pointedly at his watch).

So—what have I learned? Taking a page from Bridget herself, I decided to format this one in a sort of list-type thing.

10. Stay away from “alcoholics, workaholics, commitment phobics, people with girlfriends or wives, misogynists, megalomaniacs, chauvinists, emotional fuckwits or freeloaders, perverts.” (direct quote)

9. Your mother will always be insane. But she might just be right about you.

8. Self-help books might always be a weakness, but when they are all you talk about, you sound stupid and people get annoyed with you.

7. Sometimes you have to grin and bear it through a humiliating job. But only until you reach the end of your rope and snap. Then you’ll get rehired after your supervisor is sacked.

6. Always write your Christmas cards while fairly drunk. Everyone will think you are quite amusing.

5. Watch out for bullets disguised as ballpoint pens and/or lipstick with your name on them.

4. While travelling internationally, probably don’t try hallucinogenic drugs.

3. Singletons will forever be superior to Smug Marrieds, even if that truth will always remain a secret.

2. Good friends are the best people in the world, if you are lucky enough to find them.

Which all sums up to

1. It’s okay to be a huge idiot sometimes, because it all works out in the end.

Comforting. But potentially the most dangerous untruth of them all. See also: 4 Pieces of Relationship Advice Movies Need to Stop Giving.

Consider this my PSA for the week.


0. When your mother takes you to get your colors done, that does not mean getting highlights. Google Search will help you solve the mystery.

{in which i reject self-awareness}

Last night, I came across the following quote on a friend’s Facebook:

Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people. —Eleanor Roosevelt

As much as I do like said friend and respect his opinion, I took issue with this quote. Boo to ideas and events; their only interest lies in how they affect people. Small minded I may be, but I would much rather discuss people.

In keeping with that notion, last week I went on a rare and ill-fated self-improvement kick, which involved watching the following film and reading this almost book-length article from The Atlantic.

Also this weekend, I took a physical trip down Memory Lane and visited my alma mater, as well as the city I worked in last year. These visits always result in some sort of emotional turbulence, during which I attempt to question what my life has become since college and how I can change that. Meh.

What could all of this possibly have to do with book learnin’? Well, this is my long-winded explanation as to why I chucked Swell: A Girl’s Guide to the Good Life. Sometime this weekend, I had a fit of pique about my self-improvement project and instead gave myself up to internal rants on being told how people perceived me, how to perceive myself, how to acclimate myself to a lifetime of spinsterhood, and how to make this all a worthwhile and ultimately successful endeavor. Hooray!

Instead, I immediately picked up Bridget Jones’s Diary and gave myself over to emotional fuckwittage. Because that’s real life, people.

I watched the BJD movies one winter in high school. My parents were out of town and my younger brother was obvi out on some social engagement, so I hightailed it down to BBV, rented the double feature, and watched in sitting on my living room floor, wrapped in my duvet and eating reheated casserole out of the pan. Rarely have I ever had such a meta moment.

So, faced with funemployment and home-aloneness during the parents’ vacay to northern Africa, clearly there were no better books to read. I’m already loving BJD, and can’t wait to blog more about it later.

What do you think? Do you agree with Eleanor Roosevelt? Do you embrace activism/sociology, or do you just sometimes get tired of it and just want to read a hilarious and slightly racy diary?