Strictly speaking, I was never Bridget Jones. For instance, I’ve never owned a pair of sucky-in pants and looking back at photos of me in the mid-90s it might have been wise. I’ve also never pined after a lawyer, never slid down a fireman’s pole (fnar), never dosed up on self-help books, never had a bonkers mother. But there were (are) parts of me that are a teeny bit Bridget and always will be, which is why I’m more than a tad excited by her imminent return – as well as being thrilled that the insipidly wet Mr Darcy has carked it… Continue reading » “The Return Of Bridget Jones”