Dear readers, today I am full of self-loathing…
Last night, I watched a little of the second Bridget Jones film – ‘The Edge of Reason’.
I am very disappointed in myself. Right now, I’m hanging my head in shame, thinking (yes really thinking) about what I’ve done.
I’m not quite sure what came over me. I wonder if I could claim temporary insanity? Perhaps brought on by the pressures of the play? But I’m not entirely sure that would cut the mustard.
The whole Bridget Jones thing irks me on many levels.
I admit I quite enjoyed the books. The first I felt was better than the second, but lately I’ve been thinking that really – those books cast us London Gals and perhaps females in general, in a piss poor light…
Bridget Jones is a moron. Yes, I suppose she’s quite an endearing moron (if you like that sort of thing), but really?
I mean, when you get down to it Bridget Jones is a needy, weight obsessed, chain-smoking, wine slurping mess of a woman. She lacks any self respect. She seems bereft of even the teeny-tiniest amount of common sense, and displays an alarming lack of intelligence.
The scrapes she gets herself into are funny, but you’re laughing AT her.
It also seems to me, to be somewhat unbelievable that ANYONE would fall in love with her. She’s a bloody liability. And I fail to see how anyone would or indeed could find that particular trait lovable.
I really do not wish to be associated with that Bridget Jones ‘type’ of girl. Nor for my money should ANY self-respecting female. I’m tempted to go so far as to say that the whole bloody debacle has put the Women’s Lib Movement back a couple of decades…
I’m obviously overstating the importance of the Bridget Jones thang – and I’m also clearly out of date as this thing is oh so 2000 (or thereabouts) but nevertheless – perhaps ladies, in the future we should pick and choose our idols more wisely.
I no longer worship at the alter of ‘Bridge’ – I’m not her, never was her, never want to be her.