Monday, August 25, 2008

bloody sod

Favorite (though random) quotes from Bridget Jones's Diary by Helen Fielding, which I have just re-read:


I realize it has become too easy to find a diet to fit in with whatever you happen to feel like eating and that diets are not there to be picked and mixed but picked and stuck to, which is exactly what I shall begin to do once I've eaten this chocolate croissant.


Daniel: Would you like a cigarette?

Bridget: No thank you, I have found inner poise and given up smoking.


An evening with her is like swimming in sea with jellyfish: all will be going along perfectly pleasantly then suddenly you get a painful lashing, destroying confidence at stroke. Trouble is, her stings are aimed so subtly at one's Achilles' hells, like Gulf War missiles going "Fzzzzzz whoossssh" through Baghdad hotel corridors, that never see them coming.


When someone leaves you, apart from missing them, apart from the fact that the whole little world you've created together collapses, and that everything you see or do reminds you of them, the worst is the thought that they tried you out and, in the end, the whole sum of parts adds up to you got stamped REJECT by the one you love. How can you not be left with the personal confidence of a passed-over British Rail sandwich?


Mum: To be honest, darling, having children isn't all it's built up to be. I mean, no offense, I don't mean this personally but given my chance again I'm not sure I'd have...

Bridget (thinks): Oh no. Even my own mother wishes I'd never been born.


Tom: How many calories are you supposed to eat if you're on a diet?

Bridget: About a thousand. Well, I usually aim for a thousand and come in at about fifteen hundred.

Tom: A thousand? But I thought you needed two thousand just to survive.

Bridget (thinks): I looked at him nonplussed. I realized that I have spent so many years being on a diet that the idea that you might actually need calories to survive has been completely wiped out of my consciousness. Have reached point where believe nutritional ideal is to eat nothing at all and that the only reason people eat is because they are so greedy they cannot stop themselves from running out and ruining their diets.


Why hasn't she invited me to her party? Why? Why? How many more parties are going on that everyone has been invited to except me? I bet everyone is at one now, laughing and sipping expensive champagne. No one likes me. Christmas is going to be a total party-desert, apart from a three-party pile-up on December 20th, when I am booked in a work meeting all evening.


Ugh. Would that Christmas could just be, without presents. It is just so stupid, everyone exhausting themselves, miserably hemorrhaging money on pointless items nobody wants: no longer tokens of love but angst-ridden solutions to problems. (Hmmmm. Though must admit, pretty bloody pleased to have new handbag.) What is the point of entire nation rushing round for six weeks in a bad mood preparing for utterly pointless Taste-of-Others exam which entire nation then fails and gets stuck with hideous unwanted merchandise as fallout? If gifts and cards were completely eradicated, then Christmas as pagan-style twinkly festival to distract from lengthy winter gloom would be lovely. But if government, religious bodies, parents, tradition, etc., insist on Christmas Gift Tax to ruin everything why not make it that everyone must go out and spend 500 quid on themselves then distribute the items among their relatives and friends to wrap up and give to them instead of this psychic-failure torment?


Mum: Oh don't be silly, darling. You can't sit in the flat on your own all weekend when it's Christmas. What are you going to eat?

Bridget (thinks): Grrr. I hate this. It's as if, just because you're single, you don't have a home or any friends or responsibilities and the only possible reason you might have for not being at everyone else's beck and call for the entire Christmas period and happy to sleep bent at odd angles in sleeping bags on teenagers' bedroom floors, peel sprouts all day for fifty, and "talk nicely" to perverts with the word "Uncle" before their name while they stare freely at your breasts is complete selfishness.

Ugh. Must put sheets on bed. Disgusting to sleep on uncomfortable button-studded mattress. Where are sheets, though? Wish had some food.


Emergency: Jude on phone in tears. Is coming round Vile Richard has gone back to Vile Jilly. Jude blames herself. Thank God stayed home. Am clearly Emissary of Baby Jesus here to help those persecuted at Christmas by Herod-Wannabees, e.g. Vile Richard. Jude will be here at 7:30.


So glad I re-read this book! Cracked me up for a full week.

Currently watching:
Grey’s Anatomy - The Complete Second Season
Release date: 2006-09-12


Love It! :)

Posted by Çhr阮ïñå on August 24, 2008 - Sunday - 11:32 PM


Now you have me wanting to read it again!
I've missed you. I haven't been on much lately.
I hope life is treating you well!

Posted by Susan on September 11, 2008 - Thursday - 5:51 PM

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