Me & Misses Jones

Emotional Exhibitionist, please make your way to the stage…

It’s probable that my love affair with Bridget Jones (and her diary) is derived by the eerie (and feminine) commonalities reflected between her character and myself. No, I’m not blond and pudgy; but I am (or can be) a bit: neurotic, obsessive, emotional, weak, strong, and purveyor of cinematic romance (or at least the prospect of having one). But unlike Miss Jones, I’m equipped with something she never had during her stint as a single woman: content-ness.

Bridget was always waiting, dreaming, and longing even ~ for the next big thing. She wanted a better job. She wanted Daniel Cleaver. Then she wanted Mark Darcy. When they finally coupled, she waited and waited for him to propose his hand in marriage! You see, she was always waiting for the next big thing! All the while afraid that it would never come.

And how am I different? Because on average, I acknowledge at least 10 moments a day that I consider being perfect. I don’t need to wait for the next big thing to feel as though my life is worth more than can be appraised.

Albeit that the milestone’s in her life were quite grandiose… but for me, milestones come in the form of a first kiss, a warm embrace, handwritten letters, a bid I won on e-bay, the purchase of form fitting jeans under $30, extra long hand shakes, and a therapeutic ice cream sundae…

I’m still on the lookout for the next big thing… but I’m elated along the way…