Bridget Jones – again

Bridget Jones.  Again.  A third movie is never a good idea, but here we go.  The first two times, Bridget was bashed for being fat.  This was laughable, as the woman was only a size 10 or 12.  In the 90’s, a woman could only play a fat person in a movie if in fact she was not the least bit fat.  And then she was still berated for being too fat.  Things have progressed some thanks to female comedians who pound at these stereotypes.  Amy Schumer, for example, proudly announced “I’m probably 160 pounds right now and I can catch a dick anytime I want.”  Yes.  Sexy isn’t about size – it never has been.  Nor is it about age.  And this time Bridget is being bashed for being too old.  She’s 47. She’s the same age as I am.  Yes, 47 is old to have a baby.  I personally have no interest in attempting such a feat.  But older men in movies play new dads ALL THE TIME and nobody bats an eye. The double standard at play here is so old it went out with the Playboy mansion.  It went out with the 8 track.  It went out with avocado coloured bathroom fixtures.  Don’t know what those are?  That’s because I’m old.  And fabulous.  Get over it.

Identity

Identity – a place you go –white walls and stiff-backed chairs -a break – an absence, a lull

 

Identity – a cat arranged across an outstretched arm – softly purring – how to let a man take that place – if it ever happens again – after so long with just you and the cat.

 

Identity – meeting a new man – his eyes take you in – all such a façade – he will find you out – feel the soft beneath your solid.

 

Identity – watching your face and body age -things shifting, sliding – inside, you are twenty five -your lips still full and red – not that pale, washed out lip that now meets you in the mirror.

 

Identity- young folks act like you are of another generation -which you are – but they out you. They notice. They make you feel it.

 

Identity – a place you go at 3:00 am – awake, on fire, needing air, alone, searching wide-eyed,

 

Tired.