Sunday Sundries

Back when I was still working and going to transport two to three times a week, one of the things I did to make arriving to work between 6 and 6:30 AM more bearable was to wear a lot of bracelets. In those days (not really THAT long ago), stacking bracelets was called an “arm party.” I looked up the term; it’s still used, and people still do it, although bracelet styles have been added.

None of my bracelets was expensive, which was part of the appeal for me (I often made my own; plus if a dog was going to jump on me in a friendly way and a bracelet broke, it wouldn’t be a big loss). Almost all of my bracelets hang on a stand on my dresser, and some of them were gifts.

I never wore this bracelet, however, because the string seemed fragile. I’m not absolutely certain of its origin. It either came from Tom after he went on a barefoot cruise with his family in 1992, or it could have come from someone in his family after a trip to Hawaii.

A heap o’bracelets.

Here’s a photo of a couple of my favorites, a guitar set in a leather strap (in honor of the Neverending Saga’s musician), and one of wraparound beads, both of which I purchased as a treat to myself in 2020, when no one was going shopping, and so many stores were closed. I think both of them were advertised on my Instagram feed.

Then, OOPS! As I returned the wraparound bracelet to the stand, the elastic band broke. Beads were bouncing around on my laptop keyboard and all over the tile floor in the sanctuary. It took Tom and me using the mini-vacuum, a broom and dustpan, and a phone flashlight to find them all (hopefully). Maybe I’ll build another bracelet or a necklace with the loose beads. Who knows.

Meanwhile, I proceeded with the remaining two of my Bridget Jones movie rewatches, 2004’s Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, and 2016’s Bridget Jones’s Baby. I like all the movies, but The Edge of Reason is my least favorite because I often want to scream at Bridget for the way her insecurities cause her to make dumb choices. I understand it; after all, there could have been no second film if the hopefully-ever-after of the first movie hadn’t gone south for some reason in the intervening years.

I remember after Timothy James Beck’s first novel, It Had To Be You, which tells the story of Daniel and Blaine, came out, so many readers wrote to ask us for a continuation of their story. They even wanted the same story but from Blaine’s point of view. Those are things best left to readers’ imaginations. It’s not much fun for a writer to retell a story just because it’s from a different point of view. If multiple POVs are necessary to tell the same story, it’s best to use an omniscient narrator in a single novel. Our second TJB novel introduced an entirely new character and narrator. When we continued to get requests for more Daniel and Blaine, I said to my writing partners, “Be careful what you wish for!” We then proceeded to break up the characters for the third novel–but at least it was told from Blaine’s perspective!

Back to Bridget: I like the third movie and the baby storyline much better, mostly because by now, Bridget has learned to be more independent, to forge a more successful career for herself, and to work hard to get herself healthier. She still sometimes tends to react to things that look suspect without simply confronting other characters and demanding explanations. This trait does add conflict and push the plot along, but it makes me doubt that she’s maturing.

The last surprise at the end of the movie adds to the fun. Now that I know there’s a fourth movie planned, I look forward to seeing how the various characters are juggled in Bridget’s future. Bonuses: Bridget’s group of friends are still around and still fun, even if their lives are changing. And her parents, played by Gemma Jones and Jim Broadbent, always make me laugh (her mother) or happy (her father).