Bridget Jones’s Diary last Wednesday and thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m not a big Renee Zellweiger fan, never really have been, but I liked her a lot as Bridget Jones. Hugh Grant was great in his role, and I even liked Colin Firth, despite the stonefaced demeanor. I’m thinking of making every Wednesday movie day here in Bitchyland – the matinees are half-price, and there’s hardly ever more than two or three other people in the entire theater. And hey, now that my ass is but a fragment of it’s former self, I fit very comfortably in the theater seat. Bonus! AND I used my big purse to sneak some lite popcorn in with me, so I didn’t have to buy anything at the snack bar besides a small Diet Coke. Speaking of my ass (which I did in the previous paragraph; weren’t you paying attention?), I got checked out today by a rugged, good-looking (so far as I could tell) tanned young man who was working on a sign near the Wendy’s where I got my lunch. I was pulling up to the exit, and he turned and looked at me, and the further I went, the more he turned, smiling the entire way. It’s entirely possible that he was smiling at me in a mocking god in heaven that’s one fat woman! way, but I don’t think so. I’ve been the target of many a christ in a sidecar I’ve never seen anyone so fat! smirk, and this wasn’t that. So I stopped and had sex with him. Hee! Fred didn’t believe me either. What I actually did was smile back at him and kept on going, which I believe is a good response to most anything life throws at you. ]]>