I WILL NOT

Drink more than fourteen alcohol units a week. (Define “unit”)

Smoke. (Will not)

Waste money on: pasta makers, ice-cream machines or other culinary devices which will never use; books by unreadable literary authors to put impressively on shelves; exotic underwear, since pointless as have no boyfriend. (I like exotic underwear)

Behave sluttishly around the house, but instead imagine others are watching. (HA)

Spend more than earn. (Fail)

Allow in-tray to rage out of control. (Rage)

Fall for any of following: alcoholics, workaholics, commitment phobics, people with girlfriends or wives, misogynists, megalomaniacs, chauvinists, emotional fuckwits or freeloaders, perverts. (What if I fall for one guy who is all of the above?)

Get annoyed with Mum, Una Alconbury or Perpetua. (Betty=Love)

Get upset over men, but instead be poised and cool ice-queen. (Or ice luge)

Have crushes on men, but instead form relationships based on mature assessment of character. (Maybe after my birthday)

Bitch about anyone behind their backs, but be positive bout everyone. (Ok)

Obsess about Daniel Cleaver as pathetic to have a crush on boss in manner of Miss Moneypenny or similar. (Are you KIDDING? If Hugh Grant were my boss, of COURSE I would obsess)

Sulk about having no boyfriend, but develop inner poise and authority and sense of self as woman of substance, complete without boyfriend, as best way to obtain boyfriend. (Circular logic, I love it)

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Bridget Jones just adds to my growing list of “reasons why Anglophilia is perfectly acceptable and should run rampant amongst Americans.” One day I must blog her “I WILL” list. That should be fun.