Page 290 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

5:30 a.m. Why hasn't Rebecca invited me to her party? Why? Why? How many
more parties are going on that everyone has been invited to except me? I bet
everyone is at one now, laughing and sipping expensive champagne. No one
likes me. Christmas is going to be a total party-desert, apart from a three-party

pile-up on December 20th, when I am booked into an editing session all evening.

Saturday 9 December

Christmas parties to look forward to 0.

7:45 a.m. Woken by Mum. 'Hello, darling. Just rang quickly because Una and

Geothey were asking what you wanted for Christmas and I wondered about a
Facial Sauna.'

How, after being totally disgraced and narrowly escaping several years in

custody, can my mother just plop back into being exactly like she was before,
flirting openly with policemen and torturing me.

'By the way, are you coming to . . . ' for a moment my heart leaped with the

thought that she was going to say 'Turkey Curry Buffet' and bring up, in a
manner of speaking, Mark Darcy, but no ' . . . the Vibrant TV party on Tuesday?'
she continued brightly.

I shuddered with humiliation. I work for Vibrant TV, for God's sake.