Bachelor producers are a bunch of lying liars. Sure, I've given them plenty of credit before for pretending they're making a serious show, and maybe they were telling the truth when they said we'd NEVER seen a season like this before! or that this would be the most! shocking! season! finale! ever!, but when they say they're "coming to you live from L.A." they're not. They're just not. Watching from L.A. this week, I'm here to tell you we're the last to find out. In real time, Eastern and Central time zones watch at the same time, an hour later it starts in Mountain (hollah! No, seriously, HOLLAH. Maybe someday people will know we exist.), then Pacific TWO HOURS after that. The general tone of the texts I got through the evening was "Have you seen it yet?" No, was my answer. I'm in TVLand, waiting for TV.
At some point (ahem--MUCH earlier in the day) our Bachelor Nation delegates gathered in their solid-color sleevelesses in Convention Hall, which is really just an occasional reuse of the ABC Lighting Prop Warehouse.
Please, can we identify ALL the sources of light in that room? Holy b'glow-sticks, Batman! We have the votives, of course, serving as a Barrier of Flame to keep the women off Juan Pablo (oops! spoiler!), some sort of uplight behind the votives, some creepy spotlit bouquet-thingies, illuminated stair risers, sconces, spotlights, TV panels, and of course the glowing stage floor. Now I've watched enough HGTV to know that lighting is what transforms a room, but apparently somebody who picked up that same general idea also had an unlimited budget and no restraint. If you got it, Lighting Department, I want it. Chris Harrison wants ambiance!
I cannot identify all the light-emitting things in the background of this shot. Sure is shiny, though.
And what are those orbs? Okay, perhaps I'm getting sidetracked from the show, but I'm not alone. If there really had been two hours of content, that would have been what we saw, but instead we got about forty-five minutes of content and a whole lot of studio time. So is it my fault for being distracted if producers bore me with audience input and simultaneously throw in a bunch of shiny things? (I say no.)
When we did have something to watch, we got to see Des, freshly heartbroken from Brooks' rejection, talking about next steps with Chris Harrison:
Yeah, she's stuck there, all right. Gotta deal with these other men one way or another. We've been treated to plenty of hyperbole about how high the stakes are: "Can Des find the love she deserves?" (Deserves? What does that mean? How do you break through the dividing line between those who do deserve love and those who don't?) "Or will her dream of finding love be CRUSHED FOREVER?" Forever, folks. Forever. This is her absolute last and only chance of finding companionship. Fail here, and it's straight to the kitty section of the animal shelter.
So, because she looks like a person who might have allergies, she decides to give it a go and check out the remainders one more time: Drew "One Fluid Motion" and Chris "Poetry Man." She's certainly all in, though, because she's giving herself just that one microsecond at the rose ceremony, while cameras are rolling, her mind is tumbling, and she may or may not be nauseated, to decide whether she "feels" anything. In her own words, "If I can't see a future, for me it's over."
Well, hello, kitty!
Don't worry, with enough love you can redeem anything.
But no! She's going to give the men one more chance! Open her heart to love again! Have another couple of dates, see how things shake out, and who knows? Maybe that cat will have to find another home.
First off, Drew, who has already set his own course for an animal shelter shopping trip by saying, "I'm ready to propose. I'm so in love with her that I could never walk away from her. That's just never gonna happen. I'll never leave Desiree." Look, pal, in movies, if you don't want to be killed off, don't cough, and don't look at a picture of your wife and baby before you go into a battle. In reality TV, if you don't want to get cut, don't say "I'll never" or "Nothing could go wrong" or "I'm in control of this game." We clear?
But my warning is going to hit about three months too late, and things already seemed strained as they got on some seriously pokey horses to w-a-l-k v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y to the beach.
Hey, wait a sec! As I'm searching for pictures of Pokey I see Drew actually looks kinda like Gumby:
Do you see it? Move that swoop of his over a little to the side, give Drew some mittens, give Gumby a collar and a sweater...I think we're there. Now all we need is Drew saying "Oh, no! Oh, no!" in falsetto while twisting his clay head from side to side while Des (taking a lesson from last week and speeding things up) tells him there's nothing there.
One down, only one to go. Not giving herself a lot of options, is she? Is Des starting to feel that little kitty tongue licking her face in the morning to wake her up? Apparently so, because she says before her date with Chris, "This is the last chance for me." Last, folks. The last.
(It's important to keep your options in mind.)
So to avoid ending up with Pirate Kitty, Des announces that she would "like for today to go perfect." Well, gosh. I'd like today to go perfect, too. Here's my perfect: Wake up perfectly rested. Go for a walk. Meet a puppy. Pick up croissants for breakfast. Write the blog in ten minutes. Get a good watermelon. Save a child's life by stopping a stroller from rolling into the street. Have a stranger tell me I look great. Tarte flambe for dinner. I don't think either Des or I are asking too much.
But in her case it works! And I honestly really like what happens here. Des pulls the covers off the way The Bachelor goes about failing at helping couples find each other, and they let her. The problem, she can see, is that she went for the wrong guy in Brooks, got swept into romance by romantic settings and acting out old patterns of falling for guys who just never quite loved her back. "You do like the chase," she admits. All the unnatural constraints of the show made it hard to see the plainly solid, good guy that was exactly NOT what all her past mistakes were. For that reason--that the first choice got cleared out of the way so that she could see the better choice--I think these two actually have a chance. The honest truth.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Mustn't give short shrift to my favorite bizarre twist of the whole process: The ring "shopping." I dearly wish I knew more about the arrangements, here. Is this ring on loan? Is Chris on the line for the full price if the wedding goes through? For sure he ain't buyin' it on the spot. Chris refers to it as "a commitment I will provide for her." Note: With a ring that has been provided for you. Weird. Every time.
As for the proposal, I think we could all read exactly what Chris was thinking and feeling when, after he poured out his heart and was about to drop onto one knee for the proposal, Des said to wait, that she had something to tell him. Ack! The knife! I'm not sure when or how he fully processed that she wasn't about to send him home, but it took a while, and the poor guy was feeling that knife twist back and forth a number of times.
Phew! Another season done! The wishes of many were granted in seeing Juan Pablo emerge as next season's Bachelor, which I will be watching from across an incomprehensible cultural divide. (I'm pretty sure there's a Saudi Arabian Idol, and equally sure there's not a Saudi Arabian Bachelor.) For more on what I find between now and January as I start living in said exotic locale, keep an eye on Foreign-Girl.blogspot.com. I have exactly one actual post there now. Making progress.
I'll see you in January! And I'll let you know if this guy turns up anywhere:
At some point (ahem--MUCH earlier in the day) our Bachelor Nation delegates gathered in their solid-color sleevelesses in Convention Hall, which is really just an occasional reuse of the ABC Lighting Prop Warehouse.
When we did have something to watch, we got to see Des, freshly heartbroken from Brooks' rejection, talking about next steps with Chris Harrison:
Des: I just want to go home.
Chris: I understand. (Silence.)
Translation: You can't.
Yeah, she's stuck there, all right. Gotta deal with these other men one way or another. We've been treated to plenty of hyperbole about how high the stakes are: "Can Des find the love she deserves?" (Deserves? What does that mean? How do you break through the dividing line between those who do deserve love and those who don't?) "Or will her dream of finding love be CRUSHED FOREVER?" Forever, folks. Forever. This is her absolute last and only chance of finding companionship. Fail here, and it's straight to the kitty section of the animal shelter.
So, because she looks like a person who might have allergies, she decides to give it a go and check out the remainders one more time: Drew "One Fluid Motion" and Chris "Poetry Man." She's certainly all in, though, because she's giving herself just that one microsecond at the rose ceremony, while cameras are rolling, her mind is tumbling, and she may or may not be nauseated, to decide whether she "feels" anything. In her own words, "If I can't see a future, for me it's over."
Well, hello, kitty!
But no! She's going to give the men one more chance! Open her heart to love again! Have another couple of dates, see how things shake out, and who knows? Maybe that cat will have to find another home.
First off, Drew, who has already set his own course for an animal shelter shopping trip by saying, "I'm ready to propose. I'm so in love with her that I could never walk away from her. That's just never gonna happen. I'll never leave Desiree." Look, pal, in movies, if you don't want to be killed off, don't cough, and don't look at a picture of your wife and baby before you go into a battle. In reality TV, if you don't want to get cut, don't say "I'll never" or "Nothing could go wrong" or "I'm in control of this game." We clear?
But my warning is going to hit about three months too late, and things already seemed strained as they got on some seriously pokey horses to w-a-l-k v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y to the beach.
Do you see it? Move that swoop of his over a little to the side, give Drew some mittens, give Gumby a collar and a sweater...I think we're there. Now all we need is Drew saying "Oh, no! Oh, no!" in falsetto while twisting his clay head from side to side while Des (taking a lesson from last week and speeding things up) tells him there's nothing there.
One down, only one to go. Not giving herself a lot of options, is she? Is Des starting to feel that little kitty tongue licking her face in the morning to wake her up? Apparently so, because she says before her date with Chris, "This is the last chance for me." Last, folks. The last.
So to avoid ending up with Pirate Kitty, Des announces that she would "like for today to go perfect." Well, gosh. I'd like today to go perfect, too. Here's my perfect: Wake up perfectly rested. Go for a walk. Meet a puppy. Pick up croissants for breakfast. Write the blog in ten minutes. Get a good watermelon. Save a child's life by stopping a stroller from rolling into the street. Have a stranger tell me I look great. Tarte flambe for dinner. I don't think either Des or I are asking too much.
But in her case it works! And I honestly really like what happens here. Des pulls the covers off the way The Bachelor goes about failing at helping couples find each other, and they let her. The problem, she can see, is that she went for the wrong guy in Brooks, got swept into romance by romantic settings and acting out old patterns of falling for guys who just never quite loved her back. "You do like the chase," she admits. All the unnatural constraints of the show made it hard to see the plainly solid, good guy that was exactly NOT what all her past mistakes were. For that reason--that the first choice got cleared out of the way so that she could see the better choice--I think these two actually have a chance. The honest truth.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Mustn't give short shrift to my favorite bizarre twist of the whole process: The ring "shopping." I dearly wish I knew more about the arrangements, here. Is this ring on loan? Is Chris on the line for the full price if the wedding goes through? For sure he ain't buyin' it on the spot. Chris refers to it as "a commitment I will provide for her." Note: With a ring that has been provided for you. Weird. Every time.
As for the proposal, I think we could all read exactly what Chris was thinking and feeling when, after he poured out his heart and was about to drop onto one knee for the proposal, Des said to wait, that she had something to tell him. Ack! The knife! I'm not sure when or how he fully processed that she wasn't about to send him home, but it took a while, and the poor guy was feeling that knife twist back and forth a number of times.
Phew! Another season done! The wishes of many were granted in seeing Juan Pablo emerge as next season's Bachelor, which I will be watching from across an incomprehensible cultural divide. (I'm pretty sure there's a Saudi Arabian Idol, and equally sure there's not a Saudi Arabian Bachelor.) For more on what I find between now and January as I start living in said exotic locale, keep an eye on Foreign-Girl.blogspot.com. I have exactly one actual post there now. Making progress.
I'll see you in January! And I'll let you know if this guy turns up anywhere:
