It’s true. Bridget Jones is my spirit animal. Bridget is the lovable every woman who seems to never make things work, until all of the sudden Mark Darcy is telling her he likes her just as she is and we are swooning. Why is Ms. Jones my spirit animal? Let me count the ways…
She sucks at flirting: Bridget sucks at flirting. She totally has no idea how to flirt, especially with the guy she actually is head over heels for. She kind of sucks at talking in general, too, but the flirting thing really sticks out. I mean, she can never really shut up when she needs to. Whether she’s just too nervous around men or just completely oblivious to what flirting entails is unclear. But, this is where Bridget really gets me. I can flirt for days with someone I have absolutely no interest in (or my waiter/bartender), but someone I actually really like and am crushing on? Forget it. I’m a complete mess. I sound like an idiot and immediately contract foot in mouth disease. Or I kind of ignore them or put up walls because I’m just that uncomfortable. Yup, me and Bridge, a couple of bad flirts.
She has wobbly bits: (and Mark Darcy loves them!) Bridget is not a skinny-mini, she’s a real woman. She has curves, she has a good pair of boobs, she looks great in a little black dress (plus she’s not afraid to wear a playboy bunny costume for her boyfriend). Yes, she has to throw on some spanx, but who doesn’t? I think everybody, no matter their size, should wear shape-wear under formal attire – it just smooths everything out and hides your belly button. Bridget might get self-conscious about her appearance, but that highlights her every-womanness even more. Plus, she’s still able to score two smokin’ guys, so she really shouldn’t be all that worried anyway.
She kinda sorta makes New Year’s Resolutions: Bridget starts the movie out telling Mark Darcy about her New Year’s resolutions: quit smoking, quit drinking… while doing both. This is pretty much me. I always kind of sort of make a resolution and then inevitably end up not following through. That doesn’t mean I don’t hold firm to all my life changes or goals, but I can’t ever seem to hold up steam with those ones that come around at the beginning of January. I don’t really ever choose to quit anything cold turkey like Bridget, or make super crazy changes that I know will be hard to follow through, but we are sisters in failure.
She “sings”: She doesn’t really sing, but she acts it out. In PJs. Alone. With abandon. This is me. Except I actually sing all.the.time. When I’m by myself. In the shower. In my room. In my PJs/undies. In the car. While shoveling. While cooking. I’m pretty much always singing- but there’s no evidence, so don’t ask my family or friends. I sing along to songs I know I have no business singing to. I’m pitchy, I don’t always hit those high notes, I’m not always on the money. But I don’t even care. Bridget’s mimed balled is pretty much the greatest credit sequence ever. I think about her every time I hear “All By Myself” and my friends and I always act out the scene.
She goes after what she wants: Whether it’s her smarmy boss, Daniel (big mistake), a new job, landing a highly coveted interview after a long, publicized trial or running in her panties after the perfect man, Bridget really goes all out. She doesn’t seem to do things half-assed. When Daniel breaks up with her for the skinny American, she buys female empowerment books, turns on Chaka Khan, gets rid of the booze and starts working out hardcore. She even practically drives her parents off the road trying to get to the Darcy’s party to profess her love for Mark. Seriously, girl, you go all out and no one can say any different. And damn, when I really, really, want something, people better get out of my way, too!
She gets Mark Darcy to look at her like this: This is one of my goals in life. Get a man to look at me like this- like I’m a goddess divine. McDreamy looks at Meredith like this. Noah looks at Allie like this. Mark looks at Bridget like this. Darcys of the world, I’m waiting!
I feel a lot like Bridget Jones. I sometimes fear that I will die alone and end up eaten by wild dogs. Or that the object of my affection will hear/see something I said/wrote and run away just when I can hear the music swelling. I usually feel like an idiot (most of the time). But, with Bridget Jones as my guide, I know I’ll be just fine!
Featured Image Via Jezebel.com