Written 14 July 2010
Ahh Ali, still has Roberto in her sights...
Thank goodness I'm almost over my bachelorette, reality TV, crack-like addiction! Just two more weeks to go. It really should be over next week but they have to do a "Men Tell All" special, blah, blah, blah. I want to know who she picked...if anyone.
From the beginning I've said Roberto. My bff, Deb, concurs. She’s addicted to those Latinos! Just the way the rrrr rolls off your tongue...plus he's muy caliente and muy guapo! That's almost enough to get you through 80 years of marriage but he's also very sweet and charming and tender and loving and hot and sexy and ...oh wait, I think I already covered that.
So the three dudes left at the beginning of Monday night's telenovella were: 1.) Roberto 2.) Frank 3.) Chris; listed in the order, I believe, matches Ali's personal order. There they are in Tahiti, romance in the water, and no sharks, save one...dunt, dunt, dunt...FRANK! NO! YES! Turns out the whiney, wimpy, self-deprecating, Frankie is in love with Nicole. Who's NICOLE? His ex. Right, me too...Only after leaving Nicole to pursue Ali did he realize that Nicole is, after all the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Poor Frank has been in such turmoil over all the feelings he has for Nicole and also Ali. But in the end he thinks it is Nicole he really, for real this time, no kidding, wants to marry. Nicole is good with that. RUN NICOLE RUN. Frank is a tortured soul, a creative genius who still lives at home and is reaching for something/one, anything/one to make him feel like a man. He needs to look within instead of impulse purchasing. But that is an Oprah show.
As the Bachelor and Bachelorette go, all crises must be filtered through Chris Harrison, the host. First Frank does go ahead and fly to Tahiti instead of ending it all in Chicago. Silly Nicole is too young to know that letting a man go who can't seem to know when to stay is a recipe for disaster. Anyway Chris was "blown away" as he often is. Poor Chris. He's gotta watch this sniveling, wimpy man and the whole time I bet he's thinking "If you were doing this to MY daughter I'd bust your lip right about NOW!" So, Frank makes the manly decision to tell Ali himself. Bravo. Fast forward to Ali arriving. They embrace and she's all chipper and Ali-like and the Frank says "Ali, we need to talk". They walk outside and sit and she stares at him a long time and he doesn't speak. Then he says he's nervous. Then finally he tells her about Nicole. She starts crying and wiping her tears away and all I can't think is "Honey! Don't pull on your eyes like that! You have no idea the long term damage you are doing that tender skin. Besides girl, you've still got two GOOD, ahem real, men here who need to see you at your best...and Frankly speaking (totally HAD to get that in, sorry, I amuse myself)...not puffy eyed over another man.
Best line of the night? Ali said "I've given up everything to be here." To which sniveling dumba$% said "I've given up everything to be here too." To which Ali, my new hero (with a little training) said "Apparently not everything." Cha-ching! Slam! *&^%#@! And then, when the wimpy, selfish, Frankie saga was almost over she failed me as a sister, she went down the rabbit hole of self-pity and pathetic behavior. She said, through tears, as many other noble women throughout history have, "I don't want to leave because I know I'm never gonna see you again." I was so hurt by this statement I didn't really hear what Frankie said but he was asking for forgiveness as all cheaters and beaters do and then, then she got up, walked around the ottoman (waaay tooooo much effort wasted on him! Here's where I scream "Get the Bit$h Books Ali! GET THE BIT$H BOOKS!) to get to him and long-embraced him bye. My life flashed before my eyes. She should have just flung herself on top of the sword for Pete's sake. Hell, at least Frank was crying.
Poor, poor Chris Harrison. He's already listened to Frank snivel and now he has to listen to Ali; talkative, chatty, crying, heart-broken, pis&ed-off Ali. At some point she tries to get him to psychoanalyze her by getting him to tell her what is wrong with her. I bet he's thinking "I don't get paid enough for this Shi!." She said "What's wrong with me? Maybe I'm too....or maybe it's....I just don't know why (which is my all time favorite whine)...and now I'm wondering if I can trust my own judgment...and...
Chris just sat there at a decent distance away and carefully rubbed her back and said NOTHING. He needs a raise.
Since this is Hollywood and they always have alternative endings I have a few in mind. Bear with me as I may actually be releasing some of my very own, carefully thought out with vengeance-and-malice-in-my-heart alternative endings...
1. When Ali meets Frank at the hut on the water in Tahiti and after a few seconds embrace says "Ali, we need to talk." She should have straightened her back bone, took a few steps back, squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye (the left one for gravity) and said "Talk." Not moved one freaking inch. Then, when he was finished slobbering all over himself said "OK." and walked away. THEN fell apart. ALONE. She gave him too much of herself. A part he did NOT deserve. He would be having nightmares right now wondering where HE went wrong and why she wasn't more devastated...blah, blah, blah. Again, my life flashing and all...
2. When Ali meets Frank at the hut on the water in Tahiti and after a few seconds embrace says "Ali, we need to talk." She should have straightened her back bone, took a few steps back, squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye (the left one for gravity) and said "Talk." When he was finished slobbering all over himself she should have said "Boys! (there's always a camera crew around and those guys are probably in love with Ali too. They would've done her bidding.) Throw his sorry a$$ in the ocean and do not fetch him out until I get back with Chris and his plane ticket home. Oh look! Shark!"
Alas, neither of these things happened but a lesson was learned nonetheless, by the audience if not by Ali. Frank was a sniveling weasel and I’m certain we’ll read about him in a few months when Nicole dumps him for still being weepy over his decision to leave Ali. What did we learn? Don’t take it personally when you run across sniveling weasels who can’t make up their minds if they love you or they don’t. If they love you they KNOW it and SHOW it! End of story.
The issue was not Ali even though she took it personally, as a blow to her ego and to her powers of judgment. No, the issue was entirely Frank’s. I gotta tell ya. I don’t know a single woman who REALLY, in her heart wants a snively man. Most of us don’t even want a sensitive man. It kind of freaks me out when I see men get too emotional. We want our men to be in charge and decisive. Deb just called and said she wants him to be Roberto! He’s a real guy who really cares. And the bonus is that he’s way easy on the eyes!!
Ladies, be confident. Buy the books, for Pete’s sake! Read and learn. Then practice on the next available man. You’ll be amazed at the difference in your relationship! He WILL be attentive and loving. If he’s not, then drop him in with Frank and the sharks!!
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
The Bachelorette
Written 09 June 2010
Ali, unlike her predecessor bachelorette, made a great decision Monday night and sent crazy man Craig M. packing! Mostly on the advice of Jonathan. Oh, did you all know that our very own Channel 2 (former) weatherman in Houston, TX, Jonathan Novack, is on the Bachelorette? It's wild. But he certainly is not.
Last night he was terrified to go scantily clad into the eye of the public and instead of coming out of the dressing room with his Speedo (only) on he managed to find a rubber duckie floatie thingie...you just can't make up this crap. And I can't pull myself away from it either. It's wicked addictive!
So instead of jumping in with both feet he jumped in with his rubber duckie. But all apparently was not well even with the rubber duckie security floatie thingie. Later, when they were going to produce a movie video for Bare Naked Ladies, he was supposed to kiss Ali. OMG this guy was all a twitter b/c it was their first kiss and he had to do in front of people and wah, wah, wah. It didn't script him to shove his tongue down her throat, just kiss her. Save your good stuff for later man.
Jonathan was so nervous he actually cried and the guys actually saw it and...well it was like sharks smelling blood. It was all over, emotionally, for poor gloomy weatherman until Ali, like a ray of sunshine, saved his day, made him the man to be and laid a big one on him. Take that ya big bullies!
At the end of the night he did get the coveted final rose of the night but I'm sure it was more for having her back than having one of his own.
Scarlett and Melanie's prediction for the winner is a hands down, Roberto. He's Latin She's not. (We could just stop there, because when we say Latin we mean very, very Latin and all that that entails. If you don't know what that entails you should go get you a Latin man and let him show you. Words cannot describe.) ANYWAY, he speaks five languages. She doesn't. He's well traveled. She's not. He's dark and mysterious. She's not. He gave her a salsa lesson. (We could stop there. Again.) She did very well. His hands are all over her and vice versa. He's "very, very handsome". She's "very beautiful". He is the only one that makes her blush and makes her all giddy. She is an absolute babbling idiot around him and she is absolutely putty in his hands and I do believe vice versa.
They are polar opposites attracting all the energy in the room around just the two of them. It's like the black hole of lust. There's no satisfying it's hunger. They will be building shrines unto themselves and their love tomorrow. Something like "Hey, did you know he's already married-to another man" will be the only way (and I'm not certain even THAT could stop HER) these two don't end up coloring waaayyyy, waaaaayyyy outside the lines, marring, ridding off on his white horse (cuz all Latin men have one) into the sunset to his villa in the woods (that's a tie in to Sex in the Woods...get it?) where they will make wild passionate love for centuries to come...Her career will be a thing of the past. All she will need is him and his love.
And for the rest of the men of the Bachelorette Listen up: This is game over. Your salvation for having put your lives on hold is...Roberto. Yes, I know, he's stealing Ali away like a Cleopatra captured the heart and mind of Caesar but you can learn from him. Latin men go to the School for the performing Arts - of Love. Sexuality pours from their pores and they are Mother Natures' favorites. Their skin is purrfect, their hair is purrfect, their language is purrfect...even the Italian have nothing on the Latin-men and women alike.
So Ali, if you're reading this, you can tell us. We'll keep your secret. As if it is one after last night's show.
Ali, unlike her predecessor bachelorette, made a great decision Monday night and sent crazy man Craig M. packing! Mostly on the advice of Jonathan. Oh, did you all know that our very own Channel 2 (former) weatherman in Houston, TX, Jonathan Novack, is on the Bachelorette? It's wild. But he certainly is not.
Last night he was terrified to go scantily clad into the eye of the public and instead of coming out of the dressing room with his Speedo (only) on he managed to find a rubber duckie floatie thingie...you just can't make up this crap. And I can't pull myself away from it either. It's wicked addictive!
So instead of jumping in with both feet he jumped in with his rubber duckie. But all apparently was not well even with the rubber duckie security floatie thingie. Later, when they were going to produce a movie video for Bare Naked Ladies, he was supposed to kiss Ali. OMG this guy was all a twitter b/c it was their first kiss and he had to do in front of people and wah, wah, wah. It didn't script him to shove his tongue down her throat, just kiss her. Save your good stuff for later man.
Jonathan was so nervous he actually cried and the guys actually saw it and...well it was like sharks smelling blood. It was all over, emotionally, for poor gloomy weatherman until Ali, like a ray of sunshine, saved his day, made him the man to be and laid a big one on him. Take that ya big bullies!
At the end of the night he did get the coveted final rose of the night but I'm sure it was more for having her back than having one of his own.
Scarlett and Melanie's prediction for the winner is a hands down, Roberto. He's Latin She's not. (We could just stop there, because when we say Latin we mean very, very Latin and all that that entails. If you don't know what that entails you should go get you a Latin man and let him show you. Words cannot describe.) ANYWAY, he speaks five languages. She doesn't. He's well traveled. She's not. He's dark and mysterious. She's not. He gave her a salsa lesson. (We could stop there. Again.) She did very well. His hands are all over her and vice versa. He's "very, very handsome". She's "very beautiful". He is the only one that makes her blush and makes her all giddy. She is an absolute babbling idiot around him and she is absolutely putty in his hands and I do believe vice versa.
They are polar opposites attracting all the energy in the room around just the two of them. It's like the black hole of lust. There's no satisfying it's hunger. They will be building shrines unto themselves and their love tomorrow. Something like "Hey, did you know he's already married-to another man" will be the only way (and I'm not certain even THAT could stop HER) these two don't end up coloring waaayyyy, waaaaayyyy outside the lines, marring, ridding off on his white horse (cuz all Latin men have one) into the sunset to his villa in the woods (that's a tie in to Sex in the Woods...get it?) where they will make wild passionate love for centuries to come...Her career will be a thing of the past. All she will need is him and his love.
And for the rest of the men of the Bachelorette Listen up: This is game over. Your salvation for having put your lives on hold is...Roberto. Yes, I know, he's stealing Ali away like a Cleopatra captured the heart and mind of Caesar but you can learn from him. Latin men go to the School for the performing Arts - of Love. Sexuality pours from their pores and they are Mother Natures' favorites. Their skin is purrfect, their hair is purrfect, their language is purrfect...even the Italian have nothing on the Latin-men and women alike.
So Ali, if you're reading this, you can tell us. We'll keep your secret. As if it is one after last night's show.
The Joy of Recycling
Written 7 April 2010
You know, I’m all for recycling. Not that I practice it really, but it sure sounds like a good idea. So noble and look at me I’m doing something for the planet and all that. Turn in all your old stuff and they (I always wonder who “they” are, don’t you?) tear it apart, crush it up, melt it down and then put it back into the manufacturing pipeline to make it into something new and improved. Hopefully. How cool is THAT?!
Don’t you wish you could do that with other things? Don’t you wish you could do that with men? You heard me right. Unlike my newly married, wonderful bff who usually writes this column – I am single. Without significant other. Footloose and fancy free. Unaccountable to anyone but my boss and my landlord. And this week to the IRS. How could life get any better. Right? Well, kinda…
I’ve been blessed (ok, we’re going to CALL it blessed anyway, I’m trying to be proactive here) in my life to have been a bride more than once. More than twice, actually. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time so no judging, okay? At least I didn’t try to hold on to a bad thing just to have someone in my life. Now THAT would have been pathetic! Recycling at its worst!
Last summer I suffered a broken engagement which, as it turns out, was absolutely the right thing and thank the good Lord it happened before we actually did the paperwork. We’re even still friendly with each other. Saved by the bell. No harm, no foul. At least that’s what my head says, but on rare occasions my heart kind of creeps back to the bad place and the weirdest things can set it off. Recycling of the oddest, most unwelcome kind.
The latest thing is this - my ex, Richard is in Spain even as we speak, vacationing with a woman he hardly knows. He actually spent enough money to fly half way around the world to see a woman he met for two days. Help me out here. Does this make sense to anyone? ANYone out there? Hello? Sorry. I digress.
I can’t quite figure out why this should bother me because I thought I was all OVER that. And I am really. 99.9999% of the time. I would not, repeat NOT, ever be part of a couple with him ever again (did I say ever?). So why do I feel strangely angry that he’s taking that trip with someone else? It makes me feel slightly stupid and very girly.
So naturally I think of recycling. Doesn’t everyone at a time like this? I’d like to be able to take all the best parts of all my exes and put them all into one guy. Wouldn’t that be fun? Think of the possibilities. Staggering actually, because I have been fortunate enough to have known some pretty interesting men. They’ve had fatal flaws (OK, I’m not perfect either, but we’re talking about the men now so chill.) but some pretty great qualities, too.
If we could order a guy like we can order a custom suit then we could have the ideal man, guaranteed to be funny and faithful, employed and empathetic, learned and loyal. We could, say, take Richard’s skills, and Tim’s great arms, Roger’s sense of humor, Charlie’s attention to romance, Chris’s boyish enthusiasm for all things me, Marc’s testosterone level, Brad’s ability to fix ANYthing and Harry’s ability to dance.
[A little aside here from THE Sweet Potato Queen, Jill Connor Browne: You always need 5 men in your life. The guy to talk to. The guy who will fix things. The guy who buys you stuff. The guy to have great “romance” with. And the guy to dance with. The good news is - they can all be gay except one. Now THAT’s funny!]
It would be easy. Those of us who like to dance could pick a great dance partner. Intellectuals would pick the guy who had loads of smarts. The outdoorsy girls would get the athletes and backpackers. The high maintenance chicks would get the rich. Actually, all of us would like to have that but it’s not always tops on the list.
Personally, I just want one guy who finds me irresistible. One guy who can remain faithful. One guy who likes to laugh and play as much as I do. One guy willing to learn how to dance with me. One guy who is my safe place to fall (my favorite Dr. Phil-ism).
One guy who will let me take care of him as much as I want him to take care of me.
Alas, there is no such service and no such man. If there were then he could do the same thing with us and make an ideal woman according to HIS specs. None of us, male or female are perfect. Never will be. The best we can hope for is to find someone who is perfect for US even with their flaws – and ours.
Some things are negotiable – even dancing. Others are not – like loyalty and fidelity. If he can’t remain faithful then it doesn’t matter how much money he has or how well he dances. That sense of humor is on MY Must List but some women might not mind a guy who doesn’t smile much. I also want someone I can actually have an intelligent conversation with but Forrest Gump certainly had HIS good qualities, didn’t he?
Everyone brings their own brand of relationship style to the table so maybe the moral of the story is that I should just concentrate on being the best ME I can and appreciate the guys for what they bring to the relationship, not what they don’t and maybe they’ll do the same for me.
You know, I’m all for recycling. Not that I practice it really, but it sure sounds like a good idea. So noble and look at me I’m doing something for the planet and all that. Turn in all your old stuff and they (I always wonder who “they” are, don’t you?) tear it apart, crush it up, melt it down and then put it back into the manufacturing pipeline to make it into something new and improved. Hopefully. How cool is THAT?!
Don’t you wish you could do that with other things? Don’t you wish you could do that with men? You heard me right. Unlike my newly married, wonderful bff who usually writes this column – I am single. Without significant other. Footloose and fancy free. Unaccountable to anyone but my boss and my landlord. And this week to the IRS. How could life get any better. Right? Well, kinda…
I’ve been blessed (ok, we’re going to CALL it blessed anyway, I’m trying to be proactive here) in my life to have been a bride more than once. More than twice, actually. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time so no judging, okay? At least I didn’t try to hold on to a bad thing just to have someone in my life. Now THAT would have been pathetic! Recycling at its worst!
Last summer I suffered a broken engagement which, as it turns out, was absolutely the right thing and thank the good Lord it happened before we actually did the paperwork. We’re even still friendly with each other. Saved by the bell. No harm, no foul. At least that’s what my head says, but on rare occasions my heart kind of creeps back to the bad place and the weirdest things can set it off. Recycling of the oddest, most unwelcome kind.
The latest thing is this - my ex, Richard is in Spain even as we speak, vacationing with a woman he hardly knows. He actually spent enough money to fly half way around the world to see a woman he met for two days. Help me out here. Does this make sense to anyone? ANYone out there? Hello? Sorry. I digress.
I can’t quite figure out why this should bother me because I thought I was all OVER that. And I am really. 99.9999% of the time. I would not, repeat NOT, ever be part of a couple with him ever again (did I say ever?). So why do I feel strangely angry that he’s taking that trip with someone else? It makes me feel slightly stupid and very girly.
So naturally I think of recycling. Doesn’t everyone at a time like this? I’d like to be able to take all the best parts of all my exes and put them all into one guy. Wouldn’t that be fun? Think of the possibilities. Staggering actually, because I have been fortunate enough to have known some pretty interesting men. They’ve had fatal flaws (OK, I’m not perfect either, but we’re talking about the men now so chill.) but some pretty great qualities, too.
If we could order a guy like we can order a custom suit then we could have the ideal man, guaranteed to be funny and faithful, employed and empathetic, learned and loyal. We could, say, take Richard’s skills, and Tim’s great arms, Roger’s sense of humor, Charlie’s attention to romance, Chris’s boyish enthusiasm for all things me, Marc’s testosterone level, Brad’s ability to fix ANYthing and Harry’s ability to dance.
[A little aside here from THE Sweet Potato Queen, Jill Connor Browne: You always need 5 men in your life. The guy to talk to. The guy who will fix things. The guy who buys you stuff. The guy to have great “romance” with. And the guy to dance with. The good news is - they can all be gay except one. Now THAT’s funny!]
It would be easy. Those of us who like to dance could pick a great dance partner. Intellectuals would pick the guy who had loads of smarts. The outdoorsy girls would get the athletes and backpackers. The high maintenance chicks would get the rich. Actually, all of us would like to have that but it’s not always tops on the list.
Personally, I just want one guy who finds me irresistible. One guy who can remain faithful. One guy who likes to laugh and play as much as I do. One guy willing to learn how to dance with me. One guy who is my safe place to fall (my favorite Dr. Phil-ism).
One guy who will let me take care of him as much as I want him to take care of me.
Alas, there is no such service and no such man. If there were then he could do the same thing with us and make an ideal woman according to HIS specs. None of us, male or female are perfect. Never will be. The best we can hope for is to find someone who is perfect for US even with their flaws – and ours.
Some things are negotiable – even dancing. Others are not – like loyalty and fidelity. If he can’t remain faithful then it doesn’t matter how much money he has or how well he dances. That sense of humor is on MY Must List but some women might not mind a guy who doesn’t smile much. I also want someone I can actually have an intelligent conversation with but Forrest Gump certainly had HIS good qualities, didn’t he?
Everyone brings their own brand of relationship style to the table so maybe the moral of the story is that I should just concentrate on being the best ME I can and appreciate the guys for what they bring to the relationship, not what they don’t and maybe they’ll do the same for me.
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