I Read Bridget Jones Diary
by Jessica Delfino
I read Bridget Jones Diary. I like all the neat words that they use in England for normal objects that somehow make them seem fancy. Like "Milk Tray" for box of chocolate, and "fag" for cigarette, which never ceases to be funny to me, and will live on forever in the list of things that will eternally make me laugh, along with someone farting and really well thought out rape jokes. (the ones with the clever twists at the end)
I don't think I'm Bridget Jones, like the back of the book told me I would think. She's much different from me. First of all, she's probably got a cockney accent. Second, she never stops counting calories. Though I admit, I've counted calories many times, I get bored after a while. She never loses her motivation. She also smokes a damn lot.
Some of you might be wondering why I am reading Bridget Jones Diary now, when every one else read it on the beach in the Hamptons three summers ago. I am always late in reading books that everyone else has read on the beach in the Hamptons three summers ago. But most of the books I read I find in the garbage while cleaning rich people's houses. So, that solves that.
In closing, to the three or so other people who haven't yet gotten to read Bridget Jones Diary, it's pretty good. I read it in a few days (while taking breaks from cleaning rich people's houses) and found it to be an easy, satisfying read. Read it while you're lounging in Central Park, sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself, or
waiting for the Jitney.