Bridget Jones' Diary

I have revisited Bridget Jones' Diary. 

I have read Bridget Jones' Diary. I feel like I have lived far, far worse than Bridget Jones' Diary. Life is a nightmare, and I know what a deadline is again, too. If I leave writing for one more day, I will have broken a promise to myself that I would write one post a month. This is eriying like the journal that is Bridget Jones Diary. 

People do not understand that every potential journal writing is a system of making our own bodies exterior to ourselves. Or maybe by now J. K. Rowling will have taught so many more people, having tossed Ginny Weasley into the nightmare that was Tom Riddle's diary. The whole internet is Tom Riddle's diary. And what we also call civilization, too.

Not every cop is good. Not ever woman feels safer because they are near. We don't want to welcome every person that arrives at our door. We shouldn't have to suffer the indignities of their constant revisiting at ignoring the uninvitedness. Just because my parents said you could be here doesn't mean I agreed to it.  

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It's interesting that my New Year's Resolutions post is the Bridget Jones thing; I hadn't even realized that's what I'd be doing. I know from experience and analysis that characterization occurs: the body makes narrative and makes the self and audience aware of it. As we become more accustomed to an audience we reach comfort, and try new things. Sometimes the things feel sillier and/or stupider: humans baa like sheep at times--we do.