Actions really do speak louder

HOLIDAYS taken, 1; Mountaineering injuries, 2 (Mama’s flask and my longest nail); Norwegian parties crashed, 1; (Bad) Peter Kay impressions attempted to impress Bolton visitors, too many to mention; Brushes with the law, 3; Brilliant sequel of inspiring singleton’s film watched, 1.
First of all if you haven’t already seen it — go and see Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. There can’t be many who have not already seen the first one, but if you haven’t, catch up. You have no excuse — it was on TV at the weekend.
Bridget’s back, yummy Mark is still yummy and the delectable Daniel Cleaver is as daring, dashing and dirty as ever.
I went to see it last weekend with my college roomies as a perfect start to a not so perfect birthday night out for one of them.
We had it all: Fights with ex boyfriends; accusations of ‘kitty’ thieving, drink-spilling, stair-falling, table-dancing, bouncer-rowing, drunken-crying/shouting/swearing/name calling, taxi evictions, missing friends, voice losing: the list goes on.
It was one of those nights that all you can do in the morning is laugh until your Mariella Frostrup voices have run out.
My morning-after-the-night-before suffering friends was very sorry, both for herself and for the way she’d behaved to me the night before. All I could do was laugh — something that hadn’t gone down well the previous evening.
Was I really going to survive a road trip in some of the most remote parts of Scotland with her the following weekend?
Yes — at last the mini break I’d dreamed of, inspired by Ms Jones herself had materialised. OK so the company wasn’t what I would have chosen (thinking Hugh/Daniel or Colin/Mark would have been more suitable) but it was great all the same.
After planning to go everywhere but, my city friend and I left Thelma and Louise-stylee on a road trip through the Highlands, packing everything from our thermals and waterproofs to our sunglasses and Destiny’s Child CD.
It’s a pity we didn’t manage to meet Brad Pitt in the way like Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis did, but we did fall in with a group of visiting Norwegian music students at an impromptu folk session at the foot of Ben Nevis.
When I say we, I was left attempting to speak to the really mad but endearing Liv (Leevie to her new found friends) who was not unlike Betty from Emmerdale, and her husband Erling (known now as Irving Berlin), while ‘Thelma’ acquainted herself with the very beautiful (‘you should be a model’ type) Kenroger. Although his name was written similarly to that, but probably with an ø or two, it sounded nothing like that of the great bearded one.
After three renditions of Islands in the Stream, he still didn’t know who were talking about, so we gave up trying to explain who his namesake was. I say we, but you could still hear my friend’s voice in the cold Ben Nevis night air hours later. It was enough to make stranded mountaineers stay where they were.
That day we too donned our walking attire and attempted to scale our neighbouring peak.
One climber shouted: “Now I’m going to show off” as he ran past.
It’s always worrying when people say things like that, especially if you are half way up the Scotland’s highest peak, and it’s snowing, and the only chance of help in the near vicinity is two townies who have already stopped three times for a cuppy.
The same two had the day before got lost on the Aviemore Orbital path and ended up ‘trespassing’ in the Scandinavian Village next to the massive Macdonald hotel resort which takes up half of the town.
This was the same two who later hid underneath a bridge with a bottle of very cheap and very fizzy wine, eating chips out of spoke, and trying to avoid a passing police van and CCTV cameras of the local ‘nitespot’.
It sounds worse than it actually was (honest) but it’s just the kind of thing that happens when we get together.
Talking of getting together — didn’t I say I thought it would be a bad thing if me and my favourite ex saw each other again?
Since our ‘reunion’ I have hardly heard a peep from him, this being bad considering we spoke nearly every day before his visit. I completely understand why — because he is otherwise involved — but those of you who have been in a similar situation will know it doesn’t make any easier when there is a very acceptable and intelligent reason behind people’s actions. Or in this case inactions.
I shall remain an aloof, unavailable ice queen until the moment comes that her realised that I’m his Bridget Jones.