I’M having a Bridget Jones day where nothing seems to really be working on my favour.
Tripping over my own two feet, failing driving tests, losing my head in a spin – a night like this calls for my oldest and dearest friends. Mr Ben and Mr Jerry.
And while I may be no Bridget Jones (music journalism is not quite the telly journalism Ms Jones pulls off), I can totally empathise with her need for alcohol, ice cream and one Mr Darcy.
Thank god I’ve got my own.
So here’s to you Bridget Jones, showing us everything women should be. A little bit clumsy, with Ben and Jerry’s and proud of our granny pants.
