A Revisit To an Old Topic
There are always those movies that, when you watch them for a second (or third, or fourth, or fifth... I think you get the point.) time, you are once again in love with the story, the characters, everything about it. Bridget Jones' Diary is one of those movies for me. I could watch it 50,000 times, and it would never get old. Her adventures-- or, better put, misadventures-- in romance are ones that women, even me, dream of. Now, I'm not one to particularly scream out from the rooftops that I'm a hopeless romantic, but... What can I say? I am. I see a good chick flick and fantasize about the best scenes happening directly to me. I picture myself as Bridget Jones, and Colin Firth is telling me that, despite all of my flaws, he likes me just the way I am. I close my eyes and have a little daydream starring yours truly running after my love in a pair of "genuinely tiny knickers," a pair of tennis shoes, a camisole, and a cotton hoodie worried that he might leave me f…