I would be funnier if I were British

Why is it when you see a movie, you fall in love with an absentminded heroine who is always getting herself into scrapes? So many movies come to mind, but I guess the classic would be "Bridget Jones Diary."


Bridget can barely dress herself, makes a mess of everything, eats ice-cream while crying on a couch, mangles conversations endlessly, and yet we love her. We root for her. And yet I do those things on a daily basis and I am what my daughter refers to as a "hot mess." I have decided that it would be better if I were British.

If you wanted to hear about all of my misadventures you would either need 22 hours to spare or just talk to my parents. A friend in college used to tell me that I could stand in the middle of a field with nobody around me for 10 miles and drama would find me. I think I have a lot less drama these days, but it's mainly because I have passed my flair for getting into scrapes on to a certain red headed 2 year old.

However, I did have one the other night. I used to have 5 a day so now that I have limited them to one a week, I am doing pretty good. But Rob and I had tickets to a Bon Jovi concert on Tuesday night. We lined up a sitter, had the tickets out, and were just waiting to go live on a prayer. I got on the computer the night before to see who the opening act was. I realized within 10 seconds that the concert had started an hour prior to my online searching. Wrong night. Wrong. Just wrong.

I cried. Well, I got depressed. Close enough. And then I did what anyone else would do. I ran out the door, called a friend, and told her to get out of her dreams and into my car. (Another 80's reference. I'm good.) She protested. I told her she had no option. She agreed. She got in my car and even managed to have on a snazzy top and mascara. We made it to the concert and only missed the opening act and about 4 of Mr. Jovi's songs.

But when I reflect on this, I realize that I just sound scattered and disorganized. But if Bridget Jones did it, she would be a lovable goof. So as I look back at so many of my "hot messes", I have realized that they would be a whole lot more endearing if I were British. I should move to England now to save Bennett from herself.