Well, That Was Odd. (Bachelor Recap)

For some of you, you'll be happy to know The Bachelor is over. Therefore Tuesdays on this blog can go back to fancy titles like, "Someone Give Me A Chicken Recipe - STAT!" or "You Pulled What? Out of Where?" I know you're on the edge of your seat, aren't you?

But until then, humor me once more, won't you? For you see....I'm kinda dying inside.

For the past ten weeks or so I have gotten together with eight other women. We've popped popcorn, we've added M&M's to it, we've discussed our children, our weight and how our children effect our weight. But more than all of that - we have intently watched as Brad fell in love with Emily. And because our lives don't have a whole heck of a lot going on in them right at this moment, we invested something in to this show.

Call us silly.
Call us romantics.
Call us idiots.
We don't care!

So needless to say we were just a teensy bit excited about tonight's Finale episode.

So excited, in fact, that we decided to start our evening off with some Italian food.
And so excited, in fact, that we decided to wear matching shirts that we made just for this occasion.

And now that I look back at those last two sentences I can see where only the Italian food sounds like a good idea to most of you. Yes, I can see that. But I cannot tell a lie : I loved that shirt!

Oh, the excitement of seeing Brad choose Emily. We screamed and screamed and screamed some more! But then our hopes seemed a little dashed when The Bachelor: After The Final Rose came on. (Stupid ABC execs, don't they know we don't want to see what happens after the rose? We only want to see the champagne and flights of fancy up to that point?) But to then see Brad and Emily come out and look so.............real. It kinda stunk. I wanted them to look deliriously happy. I wanted them to look intoxicated. I wanted them to look like a couple just starting out is supposed to look.

But instead they kinda looked a little too real. A little scared. A little thrown in to the fray. A little dazed and confused.

And I don't watch reality television for the reality. Sheesh.

So there, just below this blog is a comment box. Leave your comments. Tell me how ridiculous shows like this are. Tell me how the couples never make it and they are a lower class of people to have to even go on reality television. Tell me how the women make fools of themselves and lower the standard by which other women are measured. Tell me how foolish Brad is and how he will never allow himself to be happy.

Go ahead. But just know...I've heard it all. And none of it has mattered. I love the show. Its my guilty pleasure, just like reading US magazine in a steamy bubble bath. Dropping a little bit of ice cream into my vat of chocolate syrup. Ordering room service when I'm not even hungry. Or having my hair colored when I'm clearly not THAT blond.

That's what guilty pleasures are: something one enjoys without feeling guilt for it.

Today I woke up to the real world. My daughter in between us in bed because she threw up all over hers. A husband with a nagging cough. A son who wants chocolate milk when I clearly forgot to buy milk. And forty errands I have to run all before noon. I also have a $20 in my pocket that I have to make last for a week.

Now that's the real world.

And if Brad and Emily can make it in that, then more power to 'em! Who's to say they can't? Who's to say they can? Certainly not me. I wouldn't want that job anyway. I just simply want to get together with friends, drown my priorities in some Alfredo sauce and sit back and gab.

Yep, I'm guilty. Who cares!

P.S. To our other 3 compadres, you were sorely missed. (They are school teachers. And apparently at Spring Break school teachers like to run for the border. Who knew!)