Wot? Indian?

I forgot to mention why I titled my last diary entry "Keeping up with Jones". I've just started reading a compilation of early Bridget Jones columns written for the Independent. I'm giggling hysterically on the train while Zoolander is squeezed next to me (roooar!) trying to peek over at my boobs. Har har. Anyhow, husband is at home working (oh poor little lamb :P) but I had to wake up early this morn again for my swim. I did a half session this time because I wanted to take the 7:50 train and leave at 3 today. Wahey!

Anyway, when the first Bridget Jones film came out, I went to look for the book at Borders. I giggled hysterically when I read it. I could relate to almost everything, and giggled at everything else. I didn't like the film as much (in my mind, I picture Bridget Jones as someone with a lot more wit 0--- and less blonde hair - than Renee Zellwegger). The diary entry where she wrote completely drunk and the one the morning after had me cackling for 10 minutes alone. Anyway, we all love Bridget Jones, not because we're all rooted with a deep sense of insecurity and a penchant for schadenfreunde, but because we are tired of Harlequin heroines with their flawless skin and perfect hair clinging to men named Brad or Chet.

So I've decided to completely forego the stupid diet (OK OK I admit it already, it's a diet!) for once and had madras curry chicken and chips for lunch (with large green salad too... always a salad!!!). Nurse will have a fit but I don't care. I never said that I was interested in drastic changes. As far as I am concerned, the fact that I did not have take-away ONCE in the past 2 weeks, is very good.