Fast forward twenty years and me and the fictious Bridget Jones once again find ourselves in similar situations. We are both widows with young children. She has two, I have three. I am fascinated that Helen Fielding has followed this storyline as, since I was widowed seven years ago, I have been amazed at how little contemporary literary reference there is to us 'young widows'.
It can be difficult to find time for each other in today's world. If you're not working overtime to get extra money to survive, you're busy taking care of the little ones. A night out doesn't have to involve fancy dresses and elaborate dinner plans. Here are a few tips and ideas to plan a romantic evening at home.
What I have gained most from match.com, and the last thing I expected to, is I now feel calmer about being single. My relationship status no longer causes me to panic, and start thinking of cat names. Online dating made something click - it's not about being in a relationship, it's about finding the person who you want to be with.
As a young Jewish man, I take issue with the meddling, match making elders in my community. There comes a time in every Jew's life, where a compulsion to play cupid takes hold. I have been subject to its viceroy grip. Aunties and uncles orchestrate awkward family get-togethers, disguised under the pretence of a religious evening.
The first date went so well, I hadn't really felt like I was trying; now I'm flailing and babbling. And when I'm not firing off questions, there is silence. I watch him fidget like a constipated toddler on a tricycle trying to let out a fart. He fiddles with his laces, runs his hands through his hair...
I am pretty sure, I am the kind of woman that pick-up artists around the world would refer to as a "10". Have I not an excessive amount of lumps here and there? Men love that. And don't get me started on my extensive knowledge of Fresh Prince of Bel Air-trivia. In all ways, I am a catch. I think I am damn well entitled to make some demands of my own, when choosing a man.