In the middle of reading the latest Bridget Jones book, Mad About The Boy. And despite the fact that author Helen Fielding did the unthinkable — killing off Mark Darcy indeed! — the book has so far been a delight.
Bridget is still amazingly relatable, from her dating lessons (“Always be classy, never be crazy” and “Do not use words of pop songs to guide behavior, especially when drunk”) to her Twitter insights (“Advantages of live-action tweeting must be weighed against disadvantages of lateness.”)
And much more fascinating is that she’s supposed to be the same age as *my* mom, a good reminder that, yeah, one’s parents are people, too, with dreams and worries and needs, etc., etc.
Like most romantic comedies, I already know how this is going to go, but I’m enjoying the ride along the way, and I think that’s what matters.