My cougar mom

I get a call from Sheila in the morning saying that her husband's gonna be coming home earlier than expected so I only have to baby-sit until 2:00. Part of me is happy and part of me is a little annoyed. That means I'm gonna have to head to my mom's earlier because knowing my mom... she's gonna call and ask if I can come earlier to not just hear her speech to watch her walk and to give tips on fake crying. Unless... oh unless Carina isn't able to go that early.

I make my coffee and give her a call and she tells me that she can actually meet me at Sheila's house and hang until Sheila's husband gets home. "You mean you can't and we're gonna leave at five like we planned?" I ask. "Right," comes through the phone, "I can't. We're gonna have to stop at Starbucks to sooth my aching heart from all the drama that's happening in my soap opera life." I smile, "That's perfect. My mom'll believe that." I hang up the phone happy that I have an excuse to come later. Thank you Carina! You always come through!! I grab my tooth brush and head out the door.

I get on the bus and I'm happy to report that nothing crazy happened. No Ashton, (thank God!) not that I wouldn't want to see him... but I need a break from being a clutz. Sometimes I swear its too much. I'm so absorbed in looking at music on my ipod that I miss my stop and have to get off at the next one. Good on, Bridge... at least you're not carrying a farting phone or saying stupid things when Hot Ashton's around.

I get to Sheila's house on time, for the first time ever!! YAY ME!! I am so happy that I'm actually doing a victory dance as I knock on the door. Sheila opens it and catches me dancing. I drop my hands and look at her. She waits for the explanation. I open my mouth and try to think of something, "I... have a twitching problem." She laughs at me and lets me in. She grabs her things and tells me to have a good day. Right, I can have a good day when I'm going over to my cougar mom's house to watch her try and go back in time to recreate a time when she felt young and pretty. Not so much.

I go into Jaz's room (I call her Jaz now... we're tight) and she's standing up in her crib. I smile down at her. She lifts her hands for me to pick her up. I grab her and kiss her cheek. She is perhaps the cutest little girl ever. I change her (now I'm a pro... no more diaper disasters) and get her dressed. She coos and kahs. I take her into the kitchen and put her in her high chair and get breakfast ready. I grab the cheerios and pour some on the high-chair tray. I grab some dried fruit and throw it with the cheerios. I sit beside her. She looks at me as if to say "Spill."

"It's not like I'm not happy," I tell her. "I enjoy looking after you and I enjoy teaching piano and I enjoy hanging out with my friends. But I feel like there's always this restlessness to wanna do something more. Like I feel like something exciting's coming but I don't know what it is... or it could feel like whatever I experience is never enough." I look at her as she gently pushes a cheerio into her mouth. She makes a face at me, my favourite face, if I could describe it I would... but I can't. I kiss her again and she smiles at me. It's as if she says, "It's all good. Something great will happen." I hold out another cheerio for her, "Thanks for listening... and I can't believe I'm talking to a 14 month old baby about the deep things of life... I need help."

At one there's a knock at the door. I open it and it's Carina. She smiles at me and come inside. Since Jaz is down for a nap I can give her my complete attention. She looks around, "Man, this house is massive. Who knew a pent-house could be this big!" She sits down on one of black couches. I join her. She looks at me and I can tell something's up. "What's up?" She sifts through her purse and hands me a letter. I read it and it's a practicum/job offer to join a counselling group in New York. "My teachers recommended me to do a practicum there and it will more than likely turn into a job." I hand the letter back to her. "That's great, Car... what does Scott think?"

"He's really happy for me... but I know that he doesn't want me to go. That would mean we'd have to eventually move to New York and he doesn't wanna move there."

"But you wanna do it, don't you?"

"Yeah... I really do. I want more experience and I've lived in Seattle my whole life. But... that would mean..."

"Long distance...?" There's a big pause. She looks at me with sad eyes.

"We'd break up."

"No... you wouldn't break up would you?"

"Well I don't see the other option. He doesn't want to move to New York. And you know Scott. Once he's got his mind set he isn't very good at changing it."

I pause and try to think of the options that I could give her. "You could try long distance. Or better yet... he could get a job over there. Cities are always needing teachers, right?" Carina just stares straight ahead. I wanna comfort her, but I suppose at certain times just listening is the best. Carina looks over at me, "Anyway, let's talk about something more exciting. I don't wanna deal with this just yet." I think for a minute, "Well, we can always think about how you and I get to see my lovely mother in all her get-up." Carina smiles at that and looks at me with a grin, "Now that I'm always up for."

Sheila's husband arrives and Carina and I leave. My mom lives in Winatchee. I know... what a name, right? Carina and I go out for coffee first and then make our way. I wanna be a little late, but not too late that my mom insists we spend the night. True to my prediction she calls asking when I'm coming. I tell her we're almost there. Carina drops me off so she can go and visit her folks but promises to come back for dinner.

I stand in front of my house. So many memories in that brown split-level home. I'm almost scared to go up to the door. But I make myself. I open the door (knowing it won't be locked because my mom doesn't believe in crime) and walk up the stairs. "Hello!" I hear running feet. My mom comes running down the hallway in a white slip, her hair is in rollers and she's wearing a green gooey mask. "Bridge!!! You're home! I was thinking you wouldn't come!"

"Nope, I'm here mom."

"Good, now come and help me in the bathroom," she walks back toward her room. I'm about to follow her when I smell some smoke from the living room. I glance in the living room and see a random stranger smoking a cigaret. I roll my eyes. Another one of mom's wonderful boy friends. She always has a knack for attracting great men. He looks at me and then back to the tv. He sips on his beer and I can see a little of his belly protruding from his shirt. I almost wanna gag. "And that's why I hate beer," I say to myself as I walk away.

"Hon!" My mom yells, "Come on!"

"Coming!" I yell back. I walk into the bathroom and my mom is applying pink eye shadow. I just stare at her. Do I really have to go through this alone? "Mom, pink eye shadow...? Really? I mean... that's..." I stop because I know my mom won't get it.

"So I had my pageant last night! It was incredible! You know, Bridge, the judges say I've got lots of potential."

"Really the judges actually told you that?"

"Not in so many words, but I could tell."

"Whose Beer Belly in the living room?" I suddenly ask.

"Oh that's Angus, isn't he cute?"

"Yeah... he's a real... catch." I sit on the pink coloured lid of the toilet. The bathroom is a bright orange. Did I forget to mention that? Yeah... it's like actually walking into a pot of gold and you don't know whether to close your eyes or run out of the room. That's my mom.

"You know, hon, one of these days I'm gonna win a pageant and all this work'll have paid off. You'll see," my mom finishes her eye shadow and puts on some nude lipstick. She starts undoing her curls and when she's done she looks like she's been electrocuted. She grabs her shiny, sequined blue dress and puts it on. the dress only adds to the effect of her being electrocuted only now she's a blue light bulb.

"What'd you think? Don't I look amazing?"

"You look... you look... wow, gee mom, all I can say is wow."

"I know, right."

"What's the age group of this beauty pageant?"

"Oh you know..."

"No I don't."

"Thirties..."

"Are you thirty, mom?"

"No, but they never look at the application."

"Of course they don't."I watch my mom spray a crap-load of hairspray on her head. Great, not only have I been intoxicated, her hair looks like a huge hair dog sitting on her head. Yes world, this is my mom... Ginger.

"Hello!" comes Carina's voice.

"In here, Carina," my mom yells.

Carina comes in and she manages to hold her face in tact. "Hi, Ginger," she give my mom a hug and stands beside me. She blinks and looks at me. I can tell she's trying not to laugh at this whole pathetic situation. "You know, Ginger, this bathroom..."

"Beautiful, I know. It just... it really needed a colour that popped, yah know?"

"Yes for when people pooh," Carina whispered in my ear. She looks at my mom, "Right, I totally get it."

"Okay, come into the living room so you can hear my speech," Ginger leaves the room and Carina and I can only look at each other.

"How did you survive," Carina asks me.

"Survive? By living at my grandparents."

"Right, I keep forgetting. Man, did you see the cleavage on your mom's dress. It's..."

"Did you see the bleach in my mother's hair and the spot of lipstick on her tooth, and the overdone blush?"

"Right..." Carina waits for me to stand up and we walk out of the bathroom together. We walk into the living room and my mom is standing in front of the television. I look at Beer Belly Angus and he seems bored. We sit down on the love seat adjacent to my mom.

"So the question is how we can make more world peace in the world," my mom says. We both nod and wait for her. She fixes her hair and stares straight through the window as if to prepare for what's gonna be the most revelational answer ever. She looks like she's almost gonna cry. But of course she will.

"World peace is something that this world needs. If all the people in the world would not think of themselves, but think of others and pick up garbage throughout the day then we would have a better world. It would be a cleaner world and a happier world. Life would be more enjoyable. We can each take part in making world peace by saying something nice to someone every day and telling them to do the same thing," at this my mom starts crying.

I look at my mom and I flashback to the times when she forced me to enter into beauty pageants. I would have to wear the pink, puffy, little dresses and walk on stage. My mom would be there making sure that I smile big. I hated walking on the stage and having all the people take my picture. I actually even won two or three but I hated it. I never wanted to be in that type of world. I don't want a career based on my appearance. When I was fifteen my mom had a dress all made for me. It was a yellow dress with an empire waist and the crinoline was massive. I felt like I was in a yellow piece of bubble gum. So I ripped up the dress and found some left over make-up and just plastered myself with it. I walked on stage and there wasn't a sound in the audience. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. I then walked off the stage and was met by my furious mom. That was one of my proud moments. I don't have many, but that was one of them.

I hug my mom good bye. She looks at me, "To think it could've been you up there..."

"Mom, don't. I'm never entering a beauty pageant again. Next time I come... I wanna see you in your normal clothes without that beer drinking idiot. But then, who am I kidding, he'll be gone in a week or so, right?" I walk away before she can say anything. I get in the car. I look through the window and see my mom watching me. I don't care what she's thinking.

On the drive home Carina's silent. She's waiting for me to talk. I don't know if I wanna talk, but I suppose I need to.

"What're you thinking?" she asks

"Oh... you know... how I came from such a woman."

"She is... well..."

"Yeah, I know."

"I think you can look at it as a good thing in once sense. Look how you turned out. You're not trying to capture the past by entering into beauty pageants and lying about your age. I mean your mom does seem to be able to get away with it, but she won't for long."

"True."

"Anything I can do," she says as she drives onto the freeway.

"No... wait... we can talk about going to New York to visit Phillipa. That'll make me feel better."

Carina smiles and we start to make plans for a trip. That always gets me feeling better. Adventure.

My Farting Phone

Today is my piano day. The day where I get my lesson, learn how to teach piano, and then teach piano. It's a pretty crazy day, but I enjoy it. Music has always been a part of my life. Aside from movies, music is the next best thing for me. I could spend hours on the computer looking at different bands that have names like We Were Promised Jetpacks to Spoon. It's great.

I get to the kitchen and pack my bag. I look at my day-timer. It's the one with Dali paintings in it. I like Dali for some odd reason or another. He's just really cool... okay... some of them are really weird and you may think me a freak for liking them... I like a few of them. Anyway... having an artsy day-timer is great because I'm not much of a day-timer so his artwork actually draws me to my day-timer so therefore I see what I'm doing during the day and write it down. Aren't I amazing? Anyway, I look in Dali (that's what I've named it) and I see that I've got some piano workshops to go to. I'm helping out. Should be fun... little kids learning about Franz Liszt. He was pretty crazy. Have you heard his La Campanella? It's crazy!! He was also an arrogant man. He would sit at his piano in such a way so that the ladies could admire his profile. I can just see him smiling and throwing his head back and the girls all fall across the piano bench as he tries to play.

I walk out the door, tooth brush in my mouth, and I push the button for the elevator. The elevator door opens and who should be in the elevator but Owen. He abruptly drops his hands but he was too late. I knew he was looking at his reflection and fixing his hair. The elevator is surrounded in mirrors. It's kinda awkward. I step in the elevator and I continue to brush my teeth. Owen looks at me, "Your toothpaste smells good. It smells kinda like my shampoo..." I stop midbrush and just stare at him. Is this guy for real. I don't say anything. Awkward elevator music plays in the background. I feel like I'm in a movie. Owen turns to me again, "You know I've been thinking... what girl wouldn't wanna date this?" He circles his face and I nearly choke on my tooth paste. I literally cough. I keep coughing and Owen is wondering whether my reaction is positive or not. Thankfully the elevator doors open and I walk out, grab my three triangle cups, spit, throw them away and then try to leave the building before Owen can overtake me. Too late. He waits for me at the door. And follows me outside. "So... I was thinking that you and I should do another date..." I stop and turn. I've had enough, "What date, Owen? Oh you mean when you and Yal got in an index finger fight and somehow managed to fall in the pond and get covered in Pigeon crap?! You mean where you had your mom stand beside you so that I'd say yes to hanging out?! No! For the thousandth time, NO, NO, NO, NO!!" He stares at me for a few seconds. I feel like I've made myself clear. Who doesn't understand four "no's" being yelled at you? "Great... I'll see you soon then," He smiles and circles his face again, "This face is excited to see you!" I walk in the other direction. He's too much. I don't need any more crazy people in my life. I've got enough of them.

I walk down the street to my bus stop. My phone starts ringing and to my sheer horror it's farting noises. They're not like small farting noises... they're like... half fart, half... you get the picture. People stare at me as my farting phone continues to go off. By now people are looking at me as I'm searching through my bag. I'm sure I look like a person who has serious bowel issues.... Crap! Where is my phone? I dump out my bag onto the cement and am surprised by all that's in there. I grab my phone and look at the call display, "speaking of crazy people..." It's my mom... I hold my phone to the people watching me. "See, I don't have bowel problems... it was just a ring tone. I'm good. I only fart the normal amount which is you know... maybe... five... seven..." I stop when I see Ashton, the guy that hit me with a volley-ball, the hot guy who is probably hotter than Ashton Kutcher himself, walking towards me. I look at him not knowing what to say. If it wasn't my charm at the game the stopped him from asking me out, it's definitely my apparent bowel problem. He hands me a tampon, "You dropped this..." I take it. "Thanks, it's... yeah..." Ashton looks like he's about to say something more when my phone starts farting again. I answer it, "Hi mom." I try to apologize with my eyes to Ashton as I listen to my mom, "Hi Bridge, so um... are you coming to my beauty pageant tonight? I told you about it a few days ago... remember?" I close my eyes. For those that don't know... my mom lives for beauty pageants. It's her life. "Um, mom, I can't talk at the moment. I'll call you." I hang up, thankful to get rid of her. I hate talking on the phone with her. She sounds like Janice from Friends. Ugh...! I look at Ashton. He looks at my phone. "Some phone you got there..." I look at my phone and then back at him, "You know, I'm pretty sure it was my friend Peter. He does stuff like that. It's not like I would've chosen it." Ashton laughs a little and I literally feel like my mouth has lost all saliva, my heart has decided to go into cardiac arrest (either that or at this moment it's giving a cheetah a run for it's money), and my tongue has disconnected from the circuits that hold it to my brain, because for the life of me I don't think I'll be able to talk. "My friends do that to me too." I stare at him. I look at his hoodie. It's green with a Notre Dame emblem on it. Like The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Maybe he's been to the actual cathedral or seen the move. "I like the Hunchback of Notre Dame," Ashton stares at me confused, "What?" I realize I'm speaking out loud, "Notre dame. The hunchback. It's cool, right?" Ashton keeps looking at me and for the first time I wish my phone would start farting again. I shake my head trying to wake it up. "Did you go to Notre dame?" Finally. I said something normal! Yay! Good for me! The bus finally comes.

We get on the bus together and he stands nearby me. "Yeah... I got a degree in engineering there and played intermuruals". The bus goes over a bump and I swear I almost fall. "Cool... Rudy." Ashton looks at me again. I'm sure he thinks I'm incapable of speaking, "Rudy?" I try to clear my head and get some saliva back in my mouth so I can actually talk, "The movie. Like the movie." He stares at me for a second, "Right. Uh... where're you headed?" I shift my bag to my other shoulder, "Oh I'm the next stop. I teach piano at Motif Studios. You?"Ashton looks past me out the window and then back at me, "Um... I'm part of the Big Brother program. So I'm headin there." The bus stops and I smile good bye and walk towards the exit. I manage to trip off the stairs, but thankfully I didn't do a face plant into the cement.

I arrive at Motif in one piece and all the other teachers are already there setting up. My phone starts farting again. I answer the phone, "Mom, I told you I'd call you later."

"You didn't say when. And I have to talk to you about the pageant. I want you to come and listen to my speech. I've been working on it all day. You never come and watch. You know you could've been a beauty queen if you wanted."

I smile at my piano teacher, Clara, as I put my stuff in the office, just off the reception room. "Mom, how many times do I have to tell you... I don't wanna be a beauty queen."

"Look, I'm working all day today, so I'll come home tomorrow with Carina. We'll come for dinner, listen to your speech and then leave."

"Okay, hon, we'll see you tomorrow. Love, love!"

I don't even say bye. I hate the way my mom says bye. She's like this middle aged cougar who has no sense of... just no sense. I walk through one of the doors into the hallway. Four classrooms surround the hallway and each one has a piano in it. It's a really great set up. Clara is such a great piano teacher. She walks into the hallway. "That your mom?" I smile at her, whilst rolling my eyes, "Yup...". Clara smiles, "Another beauty pageant?" Again I roll my eyes as I quickly change my ring tone, "Yup. I mean... she doesn't get it. She's never gonna be a beauty queen. She's delusional." Clara gives me a sympathetic look as we walk into the piano studio. I set my books on the piano. I look around the all too familiar setting: A bookshelf piled with many different books of music. Some movie music, others music from different composers. There's a Monet painting above the piano and to the left there's a painting of a massive gate with light shining through it. Since I don't have a piano at home I always come here and practice and enjoy looking at that painting. Gives me hope that behind whatever gate or obstacle I'm facing there's something good. Something wanting to burst forth.

Sometimes when I watch a movie or movie trailer I get so emotionally involved in the story that I almost feel like it's a wooden spoon stirring an already boiling pot of desire to be around film or to be in film... so that painting gives me hope that at some point, hopefully, I'll get there.

The Best Worst Double Date

I wake up, not to my four alarm clocks (because on weekends my alarm clocks are banned from my room... they can only terrorize me on week days when absolutely necessary), but to someone knocking at my door. I look at my quiet clock, the one that I sing love songs to, because it just tells me the time so that I can go back to sleep, and it's only 9:00. Usually on Saturdays I sleep in till at least 10. I know I sound lazy... I'm really not. I do work hard. I slither out of my warm bed, which aside from my three besties, is my fourth best friend, I've named him Shep... you know, after the sheep that jump over the moon. Anyway, grab my robe, which is bright red... my friend Peter gave it me on Valentine's day. He said it was to remind me that I'm single. So now I call it my single robe. It's great. I walk to the door and open it. Isla's standing in front of me, dressed in some skinny jeans and graphic t-shirt that says "I heart nerds". Compliments of Bridget Cricket... yup that's right... I gave it to her. She stares at me. I stare back. We don't say anything... I yawn and open the door for her to come in. I go back to my bed. She comes in and rips of the blankets. "Come one," she says... "We're hanging out". I point her to the clock. "I don't care," she says... it's Saturday and we need to go do something exciting and... she pauses, obviously waiting for me to reply, "What?" I ask with my eyes still closed. She walks to my closet, "I've got a great venting story about this stupid guy named Yal-eel," she throws out a pair of Rock&Republic jeans (compliments of my mom for my last birthday) and a graphic t-shirt that has cows jumping over the moon. It's my favourite. "A whatta?" I ask when she says his name. "Yal-eel". I sit up and stare at her, "What type of guys are you friends with?" She laughs and continues rooting through my closet. I mumble I'm taking a shower.

I jump out of my freezing shower which is still like Antarctica. Honestly... don't plumbers or whoever they are, exist? I'm tired of living in liquid snow while showering. I get ready and throw on the outfit Isla's had set aside for me. I come out into the living room. Isla's surveying my apartment. Now, it may not seem like it, I am a clean person. My living room is clean, but it still looks dirty because I live in a dark, dingy apartment. Isla sits on my 80s, orange coloured couch. I join her. We sit in silence. I stare at her, "you had better not gotten me up so we could sit here and not do anything." She smiles, "Oh we'll do something." I roll my eyes. I stand up and am about to go to the fridge when there's a knock at the door. I go to the door and it's my neighbor Paddy, with her son Owen. Now to give you a visual of Owen... he's 6' with brown oily bowl cut (because apparently he didn't get the memo that bowl cuts are for boys who're 8), he wears grey cashmere sweaters or sweater-vests, ( because he doesn' t understand that it's a crime for a 29 year old to dress like an 80 year old) and he wears white old man shoes. I mean if there was one guy who was determined to dress like a senior citizen... it's him. To make it even better he's a know-it-all. He thinks he's so smart because he got a masters in computers and can speak arabic. Don't ask me how he learned it... to be honest... I don't wanna know. Oh... and one more thing you should know... he is the one guy who makes it evidently known that he likes me. He's constantly dropping of cards that ask me on a romantic date to the Apple Store to look at different laptops... yeah... he's definitely smooth with ladies... basically he's like Michael Scott from The Office... except with a masters.

I look at Paddy whose smiling at me. I like her. She's a real sweet heart. I know that she's had a hard go of life. Her husband left her and Owen when he was five and doesn't provide any money for them. Paddy works hard as a dentist assistant. (Owen does have nice teeth... I will give him that). Plus she has a heart condition. I don't know what it is but I know her heart is weak. So I try to be there for her if she needs me. Some times she'll ask me to look after her cat or feed her plants when her and Owen go to visit her mom in Nevada. I look at them waiting for them to say something. Paddy looks at Owen as if waiting for him to do something. I wait nervously. Suddenly I feel like I know what's going on. I feel my heart beat rising. This is not happening. He wouldn't! Owen... you wouldn't dare pull the mom card on me! He smiles at me and try to keep my eyes on his perfect teeth... they really are. "Um, Bridge..." He seems to think he can call me Bridge because of the amount of times he passes me in the hallway, "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today". I want to punch him in the face. In fact I see myself punching him in the stomach in my mind. I smile at Paddy (the time of smile where you feel like you're flexing your lips but not showing any teeth) and I look at Owen... I'm about to say no when Isla comes to the door. "Hi, I'm Isla..." she shakes both of their hands. I desperately pray that Owen will turn his attention to Isla. But he doesn't. He stares at me waiting. I clear my throat, "You know Owen in as much as it'd be nice, I'm hanging out with Isla so..." I stop and see Paddy's face fall. I look at Isla. She's heard of Owen and knows what I'm trying to do. She tries to think of something to bail me out, but can't. "Um... uh... well actually... Isla and I were gonna go for a walk." He runs his hands through his greasy hair and I swear I can see oil dripping down his forehead, "I walk. I'm a great walker. I walk all the time." Isla and I glance at each other. I look at Paddy who smiles happily. I could kill Owen for pulling the mom card. I decide right there and then that I'm gonna tell him on the walk that it will not go anywhere and that he has used his only mom card. There are no more mom cards, Owen! You've used it all up! As much as I don't want your mom to die on account of me... I don't wanna die myself and I would die if I hung out with you more than today... "Okay," I say, "We'll met you outside of Starbucks in an hour..." he smiles at me and walks away with his mom. I give them a pathetic wave. I close the door to my apartment and stare at Isla whose about to burst out laughing. She stares at me and I know that she's about to tell me something she's been saving since she first arrived, "What, Isla? Out with it". She looks at me with a gleam in her eyes... "So, um... you know Yall-eel?" I roll my eyes, "Yeah... we're real tight." She laughs, "I um... didn't tell you that he wanted to hang out with me today and I told him that you were joining me". I'm about to yell at her and then realize the humor of this situation. I can tell already that Isla doesn't like him and that he's a story she wants to tell me about before I actually meet him. Isla waits for me to react and I start to smile, "Well I guess at least we're gonna through this together..." Isla runs over to me and links my arm, "There's the spirit that I love... and honestly... Owen's not that bad. I kinda dig the bowl cut," I stop and stare at her. She laughs. We make our way to Starbucks. Which you've kinda guessed by now... one of my homes.

Isla and I sit down to our coffee. Isla takes a sip of her drink and spills some on her shirt. I laugh as its so typical. She wipes it with her napkin, "I hope it won't stain!" I look at it, "Put some basic H on it and it won't". Isla looks at me with an annoyed look on her face, "Yeah... cause I've got it in my purse." I look at her and dig through my purse. I can't believe I have a small bottle of it. Basic H is the all purpose cleaner that is good for everything. It's like Windex but better. Isla looks at me with disbelief and then goes to the washroom. She comes out looking happier. As she walks past drink-hand-off place a guy stares at her and accidentally spills coffee over the barista. Isla turns back to the commotion and then back at me. She sits down, "Kay, it's not like I do anything." I keep laughing, "Tell me about Yal-eel. Where the heck is he from?" Isla starts laughing, "He's from Russia, but his parents adopted him and his parents are Polish. They thought they'd give him a funky name. We're in the same acting program," I nodd as she continues ,"Anyway, he looks like a greek god. I'm just gonna be honest. He's got the whole thick golden hair goin on and he's really tall. I swear angels sing when he walks into the room. Of course he's cocky and a little flambouyant, but he's super masculine in other areas." I laugh. This is what girls do... boys are a major topic... it can't be helped... whether you're single or married. Isla keeps going, "So I'm on the computer and he comes over to me. Now... I helped him move into his apartment last week. He needed help and was complaining about it in class so I offered... being the wonderful girl that I am. He doesn't even thank me! I put down the last box and he looks at me says, '"Great, well see yeah tomorrow"'. I mean, did he honestly say that? His hotness just went down to three because of that." She does her little whistle which indicates she doesn't approve. I nod in agreement, "Kay, but then what happened?" She takes a sip of her drink, "So I'm really mad at him. You don't freakin take someone's offer to help you move and not thank them. So he comes up to me in the library and asks me what I'm doing. I tell him that I'm sending an e-mail. He asks to whom and I tell him to my grandmother who I'm really close to. He then gets mad and is like "'Why didn't you just tell me that?"' He's just so frustrating!! I mean yesterday I went over to his house because I forgot my sweater there and he comes out in just a towel! Anyway... I don't know what's going on. He just is the most annoying, arrogant guy and he wanted to hang out this morning so I said yes." I'm about to say something when I see Owen walk into the cafe. I can't believe he did this. As he does, Isla looks over too and she sees Yall-eel. We both give each other sympathetic looks.

We go outside with our coffees and head to a nearby park. People are running and walking their dogs. I'm careful to make sure there's no dog crap anywhere because of yesterday. Owen walks beside me and slurps his drink which is the most irritating thing he could possibly do... o wait... he's just irritating being himself. Yal-eel walks beside Isla. None of us are saying anything. Isla and I make eye contact and we have to work at not laughing at this situation. Owen looks at me, "So you heard about the Ipads?" Honestly, Owen, you wanna go there? You really wanna make me think more less of you than I already do? "Uh... yeah. I've heard of it, but I don't want it." Owen stops and the rest of us look back at him. He looks like he's gonna cry. I hear Yal (that's what I've nick-named him) ask what's going on. "What?" I ask. He stares at me, "How can you not want it, Bridge. It's the future. It's like you're not even thinking about how the future is evolving. Don't you know that eventually we won't have movie stores or book stores. It's all about the future. It's all about getting in the groove with tech. That's what we gotta do? Haven't you seen the documentary on how computers save lives? It was so moving I almost cried." I blink. That's literally all I can do. I suddenly realize that Owen's stopped in the middle of the bike path. I look to the sharp corner just behind him and in slow mow I see a biker come around the corner and hit him. They both collide. To my utter horror it's the same guy from yesterday. He gets up and yells at Owen and then sees me. He mouths something and I'm pretty sure it's "I'm gonna find that dog whose crap I feel in and feed it to you." I quickly turn away. Owen isn't worth this humiliation. Owen looks at the guy and gets mad at him. He then turns to us with a calm smile. "Let's continue."

We keep walking. I hear Yal talking, "You've gotta help me with this part, Isla. I mean to go to that emotional place is hard and I think it's good when someone's there when you practice a monologue." Isla looks at me and then back to Yal. "I don't like acting," Owen says. Yal stops and looks at Owen, "Look, dude, I don't get your whole get up..." Yal tries to sum him up and for the first time Yal goes up a number in my book: Zero to one, but hey that's a start... "But at least I'm not judging you for it." Owen shoves me and Isla out of the way. "I'm not judging. Just stating facts. What's gonna last longer... computers or actors. Soon we're gonna be sharing the world with robots. Robots are the future. Acting is for kids." They're in each other's faces and they're both highly unaware of the pond nearby. Isla and I look at each other. We both kinda wanna warn them, but we wanna see if it'll actually happen. They start poking each other as their argument escalates. "You don't need brains to act! Acting is for those who can't do anything else!" Owen yells as he shoves Yal with his index finger. "Yeah... well guys like you love computers because you don't know how to interact with humans. It's obvious Bridget doesn't like you. It's obvious to anyone... even to the ducks in this pond! At least Isla likes me. At least I've got a girl. I can have any girl I want," Yal shoves Owen back with his finger. They grab each other's shoulders and start wrestling in a little boy type of way. They are at the edge. Isla and I run at them and shove them in the water. We slap high fives and walk off. If that wasn't a hint that we're done with them... then I don't know what is.

Isla and I hang out at my house for the rest of the day arguing which guy was worse than other. It was probably the funnest worst double date I've ever been on.

Mounds of Brown... the theme of my baby-sitting

I wake up to my alarm ringing in my ear. Don't you hate that. It's like this robotic mosquito that rings in your ear until you either smash it against the wall, break a window with it, or press the snooze button... which one did I do? All of the above. I have a tendency to go through multiple alarm clocks. So now... I actually have four in my room so that when one goes off ten minutes later another one does and so forth. This gets me out of bed. I wish I had that great ability to get up early in the morning... honestly, I really do... but I don't seem to have the knack.

I get out of bed and sleep walk to the shower. For some wonderful reason, that only God knows what with his wonderful sense of humor, my hot water doesn't work so I might as well have showered in Antarctica. I get ready quickly as I'm running late (which is usual... something I really don't like about myself... I can't seem to be on time no matter how hard I try). I put on a pair of Seven Jeans (I love designer jeans... I'm not gonna lie... my motto is... one pair of jeans a year and it works for me... so don't judge me). I throw on my blue turtleneck and top it with a vest. I grab my bag, my books, my toothbrush and a water bottle. I know it's gonna sound grouse to you but I've started to develop a habit of brushing my teeth on the run. Here's how it works. I put toothpaste on before I leave and as I'm in the elevator I brush until the elevator door opens. Right beside the elevator door is a water dispenser thingy which has those triangular cups. I spit into three of those, take a swig of my water bottle, and I'm set. Now it's not the most attractive thing in the world, so I'm still trying to convince myself that my tooth brush running is not why I'm still single...

I run out the door and do my toothbrush run and then make my way down the street. You probably should know that I used to work at a bank. Yeah... a bank. For some reason I didn't quite get the hang of it and somehow, (leave it to me), I managed to set off the alarm multiple times causing the bank a lot of money since the cops had to come. My till was always off money (not lot's of money, just a few dollars... okay one time it was out by thirty... and I still maintain that, that old lady Olive managed to take it from me) and so they "let me go". I was actually kinda happy about it. Carina, who is just finishing her Masters degree in counselling did a personality test which helped summarize a list of jobs I'd like. Banking among other things like admin, secretarial work, any type of businessy work in a cubical type thing, statistical stuff etc were at the bottom of the list. It felt nice to be free to realize that I actually hated my job. Carina being true to her role as best friend told me, "you have permission to hate your job".

I nanny now. My co-worker, Sheila, from the bank actually called me and asked if I'd be willing to take care of her daughter, Jazmine. I was up for that. By that time I was starting to get pretty stressed about finding a job that I'd actually enjoy. So now you probably wonder what it is that I enjoy. I know I love movies and music so I really wanna be in that industry... but I just don't quite know how to get there. But as of right now I have to do something so why not nannying. I play piano on the side and am starting to teach a bit there so... at least I'll be earning some money so I can, well, you know, live. But to actually be doing something I love... I can't wait for that.

I get to Sheila's house two minutes late. I'm always two minutes late... I don't get it. Is time against me? Are the clocks always not just right... or at least the clocks I have. Sheila welcomes me into the house and then grabs her purse. She tells me she has everything written down and that Jazmine is still sleeping. Well of course she is... I look at my watch. It's seven freakin thrity in the morning. Whose up at this hour? Right adults. Good one Bridget. Way to take one for the team. Whatever. I look around the apartment. It's a pent house. Sheila just happens to be married to a millionaire. Family business. But Sheila's the type of woman that has to be working. She's told me she enjoys being a mom, but she has to be doing something else. Sheila glances at me as she's about to close the door. "Watch out for Sven". I've just about to take a sip of my water bottle and end up choking as she's startled me. I cough up my water and now I look like a drooling 28 year old. "Sorry? Who? Sv--." She interrupts me, "Sven, our dog. Just... watch out for him. He can be a little intimidating. Just put him in the laundry room and you'll be fine. But I would like it if you could take him for a walk. I'm about to say something in response but it's almost as if she reads my concern and leaves quickly before I can say or do anything. If anything, at least she'll get one day out of me. I put my bag down and my water bottle on one of the many shelves they have in the living room. The view is spectacular. You can see almost all of Seattle and beyond. The living room is spacious with the most amazing big screen Tv. I swear it's taller than me. I'm about to meander into the kitchen when I hear a growl. I turn to face the biggest looking great dane ever. I mean he's monstrous. I feel like I've read somewhere that they're the biggest dog in the world. He looks at me with a pensive stare and I'm wondering what's going on in his head. I think of Pixar's "Up" with the dog collars. "SQUIRREL!" Only I'm the squirrel. I don't know what to do. If I run he'll gun me down. If I stay where I am... Sven stops growling and continues to watch me... I try to smile at him and pretend that I'm happy to see him. But he knows, of course he does. He smells my fear like the dogs in Up, who smell the squirrel. I search for an exit and I see the laundry room door. I inch my way over to it. I feel Sven's eyes on me... I stand in the door and take a deep breath. "Come'ere boy!" He runs over to me and as soon as he's past me I close the door. and breath a sigh of relief. "Okay," I say to myself, "That's done."

I find her instructions. It's fairly simple. Jazmine looks like a really easy kid. I feel like I'm the mom type of person. I enjoy kids... to a certain point. It is a nice high-lite though I do enjoy giving them back to the parents once their done. It should be a piece of cake. Jazmine's only 14 months old so she can't be that high maintenance. I hear some crying. She's woken up.

In her room she's got every stuffed animal on the planet in her crib which is bigger than my bed-room. Okay, I'm exaggerating a bit, but it's massive. The ceilings in her room are huge and she has a hammock full of dolls hanging from it. It's a princess themed room. Man, I feel like I've walked into a celebrity nursery. Jazmine is standing up by her crib. Her cute little blonde curls circle her face and compliment her blue eyes perfectly. She is the cutest thing. Like honestly... I want to eat her she's that cute. I pick her up and all of a sudden I get this massive woof of something that doesn't smell right. I know it can't be me. I realize it's her diaper. Kay, in all honesty, I've never changed a diaper before. I never changed my brother's because he was older than me. I didn't baby sit babies, I baby-sat potty-trained kids. Super kids. Kids that new how to use the toilet. I look around for a change table and find it. Jazmine lies there staring up at me. "I can do this," I tell her. I feel like she's eyeing me up. Like she can smell my lack of experience in diaper changing. "I've taken diaper 101 before, okay?" I tell her. I take of her pj bottoms and look at the diaper. I undo it and there before me is the biggest mound of brown stuff I've ever seen. I feel my insides churning and my face turning red. My gut reflex wants to throw whatever's in my stomach, that should stay in my stomach, up out of my throat. I breath deeply only to take another whiff of the stench this brown stuff is making. I look around for nose plugs and I see a clothes pin (the type you use to hang clothes up on the line) and I put it on my nose. I smile. Everything's okay. I'm good, she's good, the world is good... Sven is good... okay, got it. I'm about to wipe her when she starts playing with brown mound of guck. I don't quite know what to do. Is this what kids do. They play with their own... brown stuff (I can't say pooh, just deal with it). I'm about to grab the diaper quickly only to realize that there's another liquid being bestowed onto the diaper and onto my hands. I try to rationalize what the next move is. But I'm too late. She's peed on my hands and made the brown stuff into a somewhat of a pudding. When she's done I grab the diaper only to fling brown stuff on my face. I try to ignore it. I've my clothe peg. I'm good. It doesn't matter that I have another person's brown stuff on my face, whatever, in fact, it's great. I fold up the diaper and I find a garbage can. I grab some baby wipes and cover her in it. I wipe my face. And soon were all clean.

Now it's after lunch. I think we've bonded really nicely and she is an easy kid. I now realize I want go for a walk so I find the stroller but it's folded up. I try unfolding it but can't. Why do they have to make things so complicated? I feel the stroller telling me that I wouldn't make a good mum. All mums know how to do this. Why can't I? I should have an innate sense of these things. I should be able to feel it in my hands as it connects with the stroller's handle... like we're one. But no. I feel all over the stroller trying to figure it out. But I can. So I carry Jazmine around. I've diaper bag around my shoulder, I've got her in my arms and three of her favourite stuffies who happen to be three big teddy-bears. I am... a mess. I can barely hold them all. I feel like I'm carrying a small town. Kay... maybe not that dramatic. Well good thing she's wasn't crying. Then of course she started crying and then of course I felt her diaper get wet and then I felt it get on my clothes. When we get back I change her diaper and am happy to see I'm no a pro. I remember I have to take Sven for a walk. Now that scares the crap out of me. How I take that tank for a walk. He's gonna walk me and I'm probably not gonna live to tell the tale. I look at Jazmine who seems to know what I'm thinking. She gurgles and smiles a bit. I walk to the laundry room door and open it. Sven's lying on a king size mat. He honestly looks like a king. He's just missing the crown and sceptre to give all his commands to me, his servant. I find a leash and walk slowly over to him. He doesn't growl. I look down at my feet and Jazmine and cooing away. Yes... thank you Jaz... you are my star.

Alright so walking Sven isn't that bad. I kinda like Sven. Though it is a little tricky trying to hold the stroller and ginormous dog all at once. We walk through a nearby park and I sit on a bench. Jazmine is asleep. I'm about get my book when I look up to see Sven doing something in the middle of the bike path. Large boulders of brown come falling to the ground and I'm horrified at the site. Bikers pass him and ring their bell in complaint. I stand up not knowing what to do. I walk over to Sven and the mess he's made. Someone's biking toward me. "You need to clean that stuff up! Where's you bag?" I look at the biker, "What bag?" He turns his head toward me forgetting he's on a bike and falls off and his face lands on the brown mound. I'm staring in horror, still holding onto the leash when all of a sudden I feel a yank. And it's not just a light yank... I feel like my shoulder's come out of my socket and the bones of my arm are still holding onto the leash which is trailing after Sven as he runs off. I realize then that my face is also in Sven's brown mound. The biker gets up swearing. I stand up, "I'm so sorry. I'm new at dog shitting... I mean dog walking... I mean baby sitting." Kay, where is my word filter. Why can't I shut my mouth? I look over and see that Jazmine is fine. Good. I don't want her to be traumatized by this event... like I will be. The man just glares at me more, grabs his bike, steps in the brown mound again and then stalks off. I look around for a bag dispenser but there's nothing. So I grab some leaves and quickly dispose of Sven's mess. He comes over to me looking as happy as can be. If he wasn't so big, strong, and not able to kill me, I'd do something about it. I grab more leaves and wipe my face.

Now I'm sitting in Starbucks. Shiela apologized profusely for what happened and paid me extra. She told me that Sven is her husband, Alan's, dog and that he usually lives on Alan's parent's farm in Montana, but Alan wanted him here for a while. Sheila assured me he would be leaving in the next few days, but to not worry because she'd have him gone while I was there. I was able to shower and load myself with perfume so that if I did stink, at least I reaked of perfume and not dog crap. I play with my pen while waiting for Isla and Carina to arrive. This has been a long day.

I take out my letter from Phillipa. She's told me that she's got a job promotion. She works for the government. Don't ask me exactly what she does, but I know she's doing it for the same reason I'm doing my job. To pay the bills. We both want to be in film. She invites me to come visit her and says as a birthday present to me she'll even pay for it. I feel really humbled. I mull over the rest of her letter as Isla comes careening in.

Two things of importance that one must know about Isla: She is the most inventive person I know, and she's somewhat of a clutz. They are actually two of my favourite things about her. It's great having grown up with her because I know her very well. There aren't many things that we haven't done together. Like Carina, she's beautiful. I mean, in all honesty, my three besties are stunners. Isla is 5'10 with thick ash blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and long eye-lashes.

Isla sits down at the table and realizes that the scarf she's wearing is on the ground by the door. A guy picks it up as she walks over to get. She smiles, says thank you, and walks away, while the guy who just gave her, her scarf keeps watching her. He goes to grab his coffee, whilst still looking at her, and spills it. That's another thing about Isla... guys love her. She's always getting asked out on dates.

She joins me at the table. I stand up and we greet each other with our usual hug and kiss on the cheek. "Hey darlin..." I smile as we sit down. She looks at me curiously. "What's that smell?" I roll my eyes and start telling her the story. In the midst of it she interrupts saying, "Sorry, let's get our drinks. You can keep talking."

We get to the teller and I'm just telling her about Sven crapping every. "I mean, honestly, Isla, I was oozing crap..." I stop and realize that the whole line-up is staring at me and also the teller. I stop and turn to the teller, "What I mean to say is... I'll get a tall, extra hot, caramel, carmel macchiato." The guy rings it in. He looks at Isla and smiles. "I'll get a personal, tall, vanilla, latte," she hands him her starbucks cup. It's the one where you can personalize it with photos. I see a photo of us at my last birthday party. We're holding martini glasses. "It's on the house." I turn to the teller with an incredulous expression on my face. He looks at me, "What'd you expect. You talked about crap". Isla looks at me sympathetically as we walk to the bar to wait for our drinks. We get them and sit down. I finish my story.

Isla pauses mid sip. "That's a crazy day." I look at my drink, "I know." I look back at her, "How was your day?" Isla fiddles with the lid on her cup and nearly drops it. We both smirk. "I got asked out by some random guy today". I shake my head. It's so normal. I've heard her say this so much in fact it'd be not normal if she didn't say it. I'm about to reply when Carina comes in. She smiles at us and then stands in line. We wait for her. She joins us once she has her drink.

"Hey everyone." We exchange hellos and then get back to Isla's getting asked out. "The thing is," she says, "I don't wanna go alone. He's kinda alternative. But my motto is, give them a chance." She stares at us both, "Will you come with me?" Carina and I look at each other and laugh. Of course we'll go. Isla grins happily, "Hey, maybe he has a friend, Bridge... you never know". I smile at her. Right, and I'm an eagle.

I tell them about Phillipa's invite for me to come to Ottawa and I tell them we should all make a trip of it. "My birthday is in a month and I wanna get out of Seattle and I wanna get some space." Carina pulls out her calendar, "That could work for me". Isla agrees. I find myself getting excited. We finish our drinks and walk out of the store. We all have to go our separate ways so we hug and say we'll chat latter on in the week to finalize Isla's date plan.

I walk toward home thinking about my friends. Isla and I are the same age so we were in school together. In grade 3 we met Carina and have been close ever since. When I met Phillipa in film school, she came over for my birthday party last year and really connected with them. That's something I love, all three of them get along so well. I do really hope I'll be able to visit her with them. It'd be another awesome birthday.

As a single 28 year old you can't help but walk into a gym wondering if there're gonna be guys. Trying not to think about it is like me, a 5'8 tiny thing, against a 300 pound sumo wrestler. There's no way I'm gonna win. I can't win against all the dripping and drooping flab that comes out from everywhere as it runs at me. Anyway... you get the picture.

I walked into the gym with Carina. She's one of my best friends. Shorter than me (5'5) with brown thick hair, a gorgeous face... kinda like the pretty student from Mr. Holland's Opus, you know the one? Probably not... but just trying to give you a visual. Anyway, Carina is awesome. She's very fiery and passionate with a beautiful heart. And I do have to take credit... I did set her up with her boy friend Scott who happened to be my room mate at the time. I know what you're thinking... I'm pretty much amazing at setting people up... I've got 1 couple on my repertoire and another couple that actually broke up, but still... you've gotta give me some credit, right?

I look around and I see a few guys. Most are young guys who look like they haven't even passed puberty yet. Carina looks at me knowingly and I roll my eyes. She knows exactly what I'm thinking. Like really? These guys look like their so full on testosterone that even the volley-ball has to deal with their hormones... (by that I mean hitting the ball as hard as they can). I walk towards the bleachers. "Look out!!". I turn and a ball looks me straight in the face. SMACK!!! I almost fall over. I feel somewhat dizzy and Carina's looking at me with concern. I hear "Are you okay?" and I turn towards the owner of the voice. I look through my one bleary eye (the other's been knocked to the back of my head) and I somehow manage to twist my ankle and fall on the floor. HONESTLY! Can't I get a break? He grabs my hand with a nice firm grasp. I look at him again. From what I can see, he is the hottest guy I've ever seen. If you've ever seen The Killers with Ashton Kutcher and Katherine Heigle, there's this scene where they meet. Heigle is standing in an elevator munching on Tums (some sort of stomach problem I think) and the elevator door opens and there's Ashton Kutcher standing in swim trunks just staring at her with the sexy look on his face. And let's be honest here... Ashton's hot! He just is... I'll be the first to admit I wanna date someone who looks like him and let me tell you... this guy... the guy who knocked my face into a pancake... he's Ashton. "Are you alright?" he asks again. Yeah... I'm great... though my face feels like it's on fire and, what? Yes that's great... now I'm crying out of one eye and... o wait... here comes the other one. And to top it all off... I think I'm not just crying out of shock of being hit, I'm crying because of how hot you are and I do believe the world is lacking in hot guys. I try to smile through my tears, "I'm great! Nothing like a six pack to start warm-up!" I wipe my eyes and by this time I can see all of him and I have come to the conclusion that he is Ashton Kutcher.

Carina looks my Ashton dream man, "Man, you've got power on the ball." Ashton smiles slightly. "Yeah... I like to hit'em hard." We all stand there awkwardly. Kinda like in the movies when all three people don't know what to say and don't know when to leave. Carina grabs me and pulls me into the change room. Before I can say anything, "Don't say it!" I look at my face in the mirror and gulp in horror. Not only is my face red but my eyes have lost my mascara and its smudged all over my face. Great. Good times. I wipe it off and look a little like a human being minus the red puffs around my eyes. I turn to Carina, "I'm ready." I walk to the door and Carina says, "Well, at least if you do end up dating, it's a good way to meet." I look at her, "Gee thanks." Carina laughs, "Just tryin to see the bright side of things though I can imagine how embarrassing that was." I pull open the door, "Can you?"

We warm up with the rest of our team. Scott joins us and bursts out laughing when he hears the story. I look over at Ashton who comes over to me. I keep my mouth shut and pray I don't say anything stupid. "I don't think I apologized to you. I was... yeah... I was just caught up with making sure you were okay. So... sorry." I nod and for some reason I can't open my mouth. I try to think of something to say. But for some reason my teeth have locked. I panic and my heart races as Ashton continues to stare at me, waiting for me to acknowledge his apology. Can I just open my mouth and say, "No probs, dude. I'm fabuloso." To my utter horror I realize I'd said that out loud. I actually said that lame-ass comment out loud! Ashton looks at me with a weird expression. I knew I sounded way to overly enthusiastic, like I was actually saying, "Oh it's great! Hit me again! I love it! I love having my face smashed in!" He holds out his hand, "I'm Ashton, by the way." My mouth drops open and he stares at me again. I suppose that any chance of me getting a date with him is wiped of the chalk bored. "He's hot," slips out of my mouth. Thankfully it was a mutter. "Sorry?" he says. "Bridget. My name is Bridget," there... YES! I can actually manage to say a phrase. "Nice to meet you." I smile back at him and walk away awkwardly as the whistle is blown. I walk over to Carina and she looks at me curiously. "What did you say?" she asks. I tell her and she starts laughing. I then ask myself for the thousandth time, why is it that I tell her when I act stupid? Then I remember that I actually enjoy her getting a kick out of it.

Thankfully getting hit in the face was the climax to the evening. Surprisingly to most people I can actually play volley ball enough to be somewhat natural. Not that I'm amazing, but I can hit the ball. I dug two balls hit by one of the testosteronie, pubescent boys, and I managed to block another. It felt good.

Carina drops me off at my apartment and tells me she'll call me tomorrow. I enter my apartment building and go to my mail box and am happy to receive a letter from one of my other best friends Phillipa. She lives in Ottawa. We met at film school and have been best friends since. I take the letter out of the my box, close it, and walk to my apartment.

I'm sitting on the couch when I decide to check my messages and its Isla. She's my cousin and my other best friend. By now you can establish that I have three. My three best girls. I love em' and am so grateful for them. Each are different and each are the most amazing girls. Isla tells me that she wants to meet for coffee tomorrow. No probs by me. I turn to my letter, open it, and settle in for a nice evening.

What is a Bridget Moment?

My name is Bridget Cricket. I know what you're thinking... who names their child Bridget with a last name like Cricket? I suppose my mother foresaw in my future fame. Perhaps a child actor on Broadway, or winning first place at a beauty pageant, or getting cast in a major blockbuster film. So what mother in her right mind would want her daughter to sign autographs with the name of Jane Smith? Obviously you'd want something with a kick. Hence... Bridget Cricket. But as most parents realize, when their child turns 28 and they're not well known, not in a relationship, not in a job they enjoy, that perhaps naming their child with an absurd name didn't really help them or anyone else for that matter. But I've come to accept the fact that my name is Bridget Cricket and I know that the friends I do have, though they claim to laugh with me even though they're laughing at me, do love me.

When I was 24 a movie was coming out called Bridget Jones. Obviously, I felt some affinity towards the movie because my name was the name of the protagonist. So I went and as I watched the movie I found myself not feeling alone in the world of dating, engaged, or married couples. I found a character that I could resonate with. For on the screen Bridget Jones, a journalist, was looked down upon for being single, she said the wrong things always at the wrong time, and managed to have her ass shown on television. That hasn't happened to me, but its nice to know that people do make fools of themselves and can still live to tell the tale.

Needless to say the movie hit home and I walked out of the theatre feeling like I'd found a friend that understood my plight of what it was like to be a woman single at 28 who sometimes makes a fool of herself. So now... whenever I feel like a complete idiot or some sort of fungus that hides underneath a rock at the bottom of the ocean I think "Bridget knows how I'm feeling. I am having... a Bridget Moment.