Sean #4: Self-Incrimination

If someone has a problem with everyone, the problem is never everyone. Stitch it on a pillow. I might make an exception if you wake up on another planet. Or maybe in Pyongyang. But if you're a human female, in the company of other females, and can't get along with anyone, the victim is the perpetrator here, folks.

This person will, at some point, identify herself with this signature line, usually delivered to explain her frustration with everybody else: "I don't do drama." In fact, you will never hear those words from someone who doesn't have trouble getting along with other women. Stitch that on the flip side of the pillow. "I don't do drama" = "There's consistently a storm of drama going on around me that is not my fault." Whether others are resisting or failing to meet the "love me!" demands, or normal interactions have sparked an overreaction ("They were talking about me!"), the source is the same. You will ALWAYS find at least one of these people in every Bachelor house. Don't kid yourself: Producers know exactly how to screen for these reality TV black diamonds. And after they've been found, the best display setting for them is among a crowd of women living together while pursuing the same man. And drinking. Machiavellian setup, really. Evil genius.

And these women always stay around way past their expiration date because not only are their interactions with others hidden from the potential life-mate (why complicate things?), this personality brings with it almost occult powers of intense, instant attraction, ideally suited to the high-stakes Bachelor dates. "You're the only one for me. We know each other, right? It's amazing." (Vienna, anyone? You saw her in classic form being the victim at the breakup special, then--admit it--having her heart guarded and protected in Bachelor Pad. Poor dumb Casey.) Remember that girl in third grade who told you she wouldn't be your friend anymore if you were friends with somebody else? Doggone it, you cared! Shouldna. Butcha did. And there's been a drama contrail following that girl everywhere she's gone since then, hasn't there?

Which brings us to...Tierra. Or Tierra the Tierra-ble! as ABC gleefully promotes her on their website. (Anybody still want to argue these people end up on the show by accident?) To prove how predictable they are, I promise I wrote everything up to this point before I saw the show. I have a witness. Tierra will identify herself as a classic Black Diamond all on her own.

But Tierra's time will come (and if the previews are to be believed, in spades). First, Selma's date. Let's sum it up like this: Sean takes a tiny, tiny princess rock-climbing in the desert, saying "I'm going to take this glamour girl out of her element," because that proves...? (Trust me, she's never going to use these skills again.) Now let's let Selma express herself in her own words:

• "I don't do well in heat."
• "I don't do well in heat." (Yes, she said it again, to make herself very clear.)
• "I feel puffy."
• "I'm not very athletic."
• "I hate heights."
• "I'm gonna fall and die."
• "When I look down I get nauseous."
• "I panic."
• "I'm so nervous."
• "I'm sweating bullets."
• And after all that, "That was easy as pie, I tell you."

The only non-complaints I got? Her date-opening line, "I can't dance." And when Sean said that would be okay, she followed up with the back-handed self-compliment: "Can you handle all 110lb of this?" Since, as shall be made perfectly clear later in the show, Sean knows NOTHING that will help him make wise judgments about women, allow a woman to explain: There is no reason for a girl to tell you her weight except to impress you with how hot she thinks she is. Think I'm being a bit harsh with Sean? Try his take on the date: "Selma loved everything about today's date." Ah, yes. This relationship is going places. I will give her one honest credit: Selma has an unusual level of self-respect for a reality show, shown by her determination to not give away cheap what a fellow should have to earn by doing more than showing up for dates somebody else is arranging and paying for. But am I also praising her for brushing her teeth? Doing her own laundry? Not yelling at waiters? Some things are treated as remarkable that ought to be assumed.

Something else Sean doesn't know: Roller derby is a terrible idea for a group activity. After Amanda the Equally Tierra-ble broke her fall with her chin (karma!) and Sean called off the competition, I got a good laugh from the girls' reactions: "He's so sweet to let us not do this!" "He's in tune to a woman!" Wha?!? If he were in tune with women, this date never would've happened, and he sure wouldn't have asked the one-armed girl to do it. Wait--asked? Demanded! He thought she "needed" to do it. Ah, men who know what's best for the women around them. Run, girl. Run.

But back to Amanda. Anybody else notice this?

I admit, when she fell I was afraid she'd done something serious and some particle of human kindness would keep me from including this. But then she came back more devious than before and I thought nah, post it.

And then, at last, Tierra, and the drama that was not her fault. I'm not quite sure what whipped up her frenzy during the evening portion of the group date in the first place, other than a sense of entitlement to more attention than she was getting. To quote: "I deserve better than this!" (To answer: Tierra, YOU SIGNED UP FOR EXACTLY THIS. The contracts, in triplicate, are in network offices to prove it. But reality is...immaterial, right?) Again, in her own words, "I'm holding all this inside! It's not fair! I'm so sensitive! I'm so emotional! It's so difficult!"

And for reasons no one can explain but are apparently common, Sean comforted her and told her he was really attracted to her because...she clearly had feelings for him. (Occult powers, defined.) His justification for tolerating the hysterical scene in the hallway? "I think Tierra has a lot of self-doubt." This is a quality you admire? RED FLAG!

Oh, and (yawn), as an afterthought, there was a date with Leslie H. Jewels and shopping, or as she put it, "Like Pretty Woman! It's my favorite movie!" You know what that movie's about, right? Anyway, she's been laughing too much at her own conversation for too long, and this date went nowhere, despite the uncontested assumption from all parties that expensive = romantic. At least, this is what rich, middle-aged, pot-bellied TV executives have found to be true. Leslie, if it's any comfort, that blinged-up dress looked much better without the She-Ra necklace you had to give back on your way home.

And finally, the cocktail party. Did anyone else catch how many times Tierra referred to "winning" as her goal? And I was delighted with the Black Diamond (or "attention-sucking black hole") apology for the earlier scene, in which the drama was--ta-da!--not her fault: "I want to apologize: You attacked me. You're bad for assuming [I didn't quite catch what] about me." Nifty apology. She did, however, manage to get Invisible Jackie to say one thing on camera: "I appreciate your apology." Rejection fodder, that one, but not just yet.

And the crowning moment, the instant when the detective leans back from the interrogation table with a triumphant smile because the accused just said the exact thing that would incriminate her? Tierra, to Sean: "I don't want you thinking I cause a lot of drama. I hate drama." AND THERE IT IS! Sean, however, is no detective. He doesn't know the Black Diamond gang signs. His response? "I can read Tierra. I know she's here for the right reasons. It doesn't matter what other girls say to me." YOU IDIOT. Perhaps this is why he's still single. A bit of advice: Seeing your intended with other people is everything, and in the interest of setting you up for a delicious publicity-rich public fall, Bachelor producers deliberately hide that crucial piece of information from you. Someone who knows it's important can find a way around the Bachelor constraints--watch group interactions closely, for example, or pay careful attention to other women's reactions. But Sean? Allow me to repeat: "It doesn't matter what other girls say to me." Now accepting date predictions for his breakup with whoever he ends up with. Whoever. With a set of judgment skills like that, it makes no difference.

Final note: I have a theory that ABC thought Amanda would be Black Diamond #2. They got greedy, which you can understand given how much they have riding on Black Diamonds sticking around. Can't risk losing one too early. But they should know by now they have nothing to worry about--Black Diamonds will find their ways to stay. A closed ecology can handle only one at a time, and nature self-corrected. So long, Amanda!

Sean #3: Minor Catastrophes

Exhibit A: A train wreck

I have no reasonable estimate for the number of times I've heard, "It's like a train wreck. You just can't look away." It's a cliche only because it's universally true. To the left, Exhibit A, an actual train wreck. I doubt those ladies in the white dresses are doing a lot to contribute to assistance or cleanup. Note, also, the dude leaning his shoulder against the lower left corner of the picture. They're all just really, really there to stare.

On our televisions, Exhibit B, The Bachelor. Because we've already established that everyone loves to gawp at other people's sordid misfortunes (again, refer to Exhibit A), I couldn't have been more excited to see previews for this week featuring an ambulance, a collapse on the stairs, and a neck brace, and a weeping narcissist saying "This is what they all wanted to happen!" Only one train shy of a train wreck.

But alas, it was also a few facts short of a train wreck. The neck brace was removed, the ambulance left, the accusations await another episode, and we can only hope that the story isn't finished.

HOWEVER, this blog started as a place for my remotely located daughters and I to snark about the show, and this week I finally had the opportunity to watch at least part of it with all of them in the same room. So no matter what happened, it was going to be fun. BUT THERE'S MORE! We also had the treat of introducing my mother-in-law to The Bachelor. Might I encourage everyone to watch an episode, at some point, with an 88-year-old granny, and put into words what's going on and why. She came of age in the day of soda fountains and dance cards and fraternity pins. Twelve girls in bikinis playing beach volleyball so that the winning six get the chance to spend the rest of the evening throwing themselves at the same man? This is incomprehensible. As it should be to all of us. We got a lot of this face:

Exhibit B: This face

At this point, she was reacting to the one-on-one moments at the end of the group date, and hearing Sean tell about the third girl that he REALLY felt something special with her. Her response: "So he can just say anything he wants to them?" Crazy, I know. "So that's one he picked?" she asked when Sean gave the one rose for the evening. No, that's just one of MANY that he thinks are special and wants to spend more quality six-on-one time with. "Certainly he gets tired of all this," she said as he shared his fourth lingering, meaningful kiss with a different girl. Okay, so she's been a widow for a while, but I wouldn't have told you it was that long.

Anyway, the dates:

Lesley M.'s world record date: I like Lesley. In last week's postlude we learned she knows that Hades is the place where spirits go to the underworld, not Haiti, and not Atlantis. That's awesome. Setting the record for the world's longest onscreen kiss? Not awesome. There's a reason the record is so short (3:16): It's boring television. Thus the triple-split-screen. And the camera angle behind Lesley's backside. (I don't think she'd planned on spending a significant portion of the date with her arms over her head.) Anyway, good date. I would've wished for her to have made more eye contact during their evening conversation, but the awkwardness was refreshing. I'll be pulling for Lesley. I might even take back my joke about her political consultant job. I'm even going to remember her name.

The sponsored-swimsuit volleyball date: Too bad for the girls who brought cute suits and then got stuck wearing these rather unflattering ones, then didn't know the first thing about volleyball, then had to go home with sand in their shorts. And Kacie, oh Kacie. (Notice the onscreen captions that give each girl's name and profession--hers just says "Ben's season." And I thought I was making a joke when I said her job was "professional bachelorette.") Her drama-dar picks up anything in range, and then she torpedoes herself straight into it. This perceived dispute between other girls involves her NOT AT ALL, but because it exists, she thinks it does. Imagine life with Kacie, tangled up in every bad feeling between PTA moms, or ladies in the neighborhood or--save us!--her daughters and their friends. Yikes. Credit to Sean on calling out the crazy and sending it straight home.

Ashley, previously invisible to me, came off more appealing than I expected. The date went well enough, but it turns out some things are a lot more fun with other people around. Like empty amusement parks that turn into sad places full of the ghosts of other people's childhoods. Or private concerts that are just self-conscious and embarrassing for everyone involved. I feel less sorry for the guy whose agent booked him to sing into the P.A. under the lavatory sign on Southwest 654 between Burbank and Denver (true story) now that I've seen what it's like to be a band playing to an empty amphitheater at Magic Mountain for The Bachelor. Nevertheless, I'll be pulling for Ashley, too.

At the rose ceremony, Jill made an outstanding catch. We backed it up and verified. When an ethnic girl got a rose, they sent the camera to other ethnic girls for reactions. When a blonde girl got a rose, then checked reactions on other blonde girls. Theory: Producers are very proud of introducing diversity (under legal pressure) and are acutely aware of it all the time, and therefore think we're just like them and have clumped girls together by their kind. But at least they did a good job of making me not care about the girls who went home. So farewell to the yoga instructor's boss and the model--no, FORD model. Sorry The Bachelor didn't give either of you the career boost you were hoping for.

Sean #2: Praise to the Straight Man

My 87-year-old mother-in-law has spent over half her life well acquainted with her son. (The math allows a few years for him to learn to talk and tell a joke.) And yet when confronted with comments like "But--you heard they cancelled the Broncos game, right?" or "Well, granite countertops do cause cancer," she falls for it every time. "Really?" she says. EVERY time.

For some reason, I can't stand it. I have to jump in and clear up the confusion. The toolset required to keep a straight face while someone else is about to be made a fool of--at my expense--is as far beyond me as making a woman's ring appear on somebody else's hand or filming a full-length claymation movie. Things, therefore, that I delight in watching other people do.

And THERE, friends, is the genius of The Bachelor. The contestants honestly don't know anything about the joke they're the butt of. And everybody around them is playing it dead straight. The producers send the bachelor/ette to sit down with Jimmy Kimmel every Monday night because they KNOW their show is funny. But they never say so out loud. They advertise a rose shattering on bricks or Sean gazing (shirtless) into the sunset as if they mean it. Chris Harrison looks sincerely grieved every time he comes out to say there's--do the math!--one rose left. Cameramen chase a drunk and/or crying girl down a hallway without ever saying "This is gold!" out loud. Yes, I saw the original Debbie Downer skit on SNL. I know how hard it is to hold it together when everybody else is laughing. But the Bachelor people do it. Bravo, you people. Bravo.

This week's jokes? YES, a first date based on Intense Artificial Bonding Over a Shared Terrifying Experience is a good beginning to a stable relationship! A man can get to know a dozen girls much better if they dress up in costumes and claw all over him in sequence! And finally (crossing openly into Candid Camera territory), pranks build trust!

ANYWAY, Curse of the First Date goes to...Sarah the one-arm girl. (I'm not being rude. This is how she refers to herself. And besides, I don't remember names. If you have a quirk, that's who you are until we're down to about four. Sorry.) She's destined for about a final-six spot on the merits of the Shared Terrifying Experience, and it'll only make it more painful for her when she's left standing unflowered. (Not deflowered. Let's be clear.)

On the group date, I did feel sorry for Katie Big Hair with the vampire teeth, who got the extreme short end of the costume stick. Perhaps that was part of the reason for the self-elimination. Whatever moved her, it was a good decision. I didn't know who Cowgirl Lesley was until she called Squinty Tierra the "eye of the hurricane, Cat 5." Suddenly I love her. (And did you see the blooper tape during the credits in which she was trying to help a nameless blonde understand what Hades was? I love her more.) And the awkwardness with Sean after? Charming. And thank goodness us ordinary folk got an chance to see a real model--wait, no, a FORD model--put her skills to use. However, my favorite line of the night came from Tierra: "I'm focusing on me." (Anybody else notice how very, very small her mouth can get when she's mad?)

Perhaps my extreme discomfort with the premise of Desiree's ("Bangs") date is clear about now. As is the reason why Chris Harrison is SO delighted with it. Finally! An out-front prank! A chance to laugh in front of the camera! And how did no one on the crew bust out laughing with the hot tub skimmer glurping during her Serious Conversation with Sean? Comedic discipline. That's what I'm talking about.

At the cocktail party we learned that Amanda Shoulder Roses was Not Here For the Right Reasons. Which means she's misunderstanding the Bachelor joke premise on a selfish level rather than a foolish level. But a foiled blonde girl in a black dress, observing her from the opposite end of the spectrum, had a different diagnosis: "I feel like tonight is literally a tornado, waiting to happen." Literally. Literally. Yes. Now THAT would make an exciting show. Unfortunately, all we got was a rose ceremony and the departure of a couple of cannon fodder girls who got zero camera time. And left without laughing, as they all do. Bravo, Bachelor people. Bravo, yet again.

Sean #1: Working Girls

The daughters and I had a great time over the holidays previewing this year's bachelor bait. The game involved looking at the pictures and guessing the names and professions. (Bonus points for anticipating custom spellings even if the name was unrelated.) And by "professions" we're talking about the real-world description of the jobs, not the Bachelor resume version. That means "retail consultant" = "Sales clerk at The Buckle." The classic example? "VIP cocktail waitress," which of course we all learned meant "Hooter's Girl." So tonight, when we're going to meet 25 girls/crazies whose names I won't remember, let's make it interesting by trying to figure out what each one REALLY does for her job:

Desiree: Bridal stylist = Sales clerk at David's
Tierra: Leasing consultant in Denver = paperwork processor at a Burt Chevrolet
Robyn: Oilfield account manager = (this appears to be a real office job I don't understand). Oo--high risk move with the back handsprings
Diana: Salon owner in Utah = doing the same thing as every third Utah girl, and a Utah crazy is apparently a casting requirement
Sarah: advertising executive = one-armed graphic designer
Ashley P (50 Shades of Gray girl): hairstylist = hairstylist, obviously. (Keep a clicker going for hair and makeup girls.) Aaaaand...here's our first-night drunk!
Lesley: political consultant = secretary at a lobbying form
Kristy: model (Oh wait--FORD model) = professionally in love with herself
AshLee: professional organizer = works at The Container Store (think there might be control issues here?) Nevertheless, I see a solid candidate here. She's a good Christian Texas girl, right down to the frilly spelling on  her name. They'll connect.
Jackie: cosmetics consultant = Clinique counter girl. At Macy's.
Selma: real estate developer = Dad bought her a house that she's planning to flip
Leslie H: poker dealer = poker dealer
Daniella: commercial casting associate = file girl at a casting agency for local furniture store commercials
Kelly: cruise ship entertainer = I think she tans for a living. She certainly doesn't sing.
Katie: yoga instructor = yoga instructur
Taryn: health club manager = Katie's boss
Catherine: graphic designer = posts a lot of pictures on Facebook
Lacey: grad student = 6th-year senior
Paige: Jumbotron operator = unemployed (seriously, how many hours a week can you fill running a Jumbotron?)
Amanda: Fit model = consistent size-6 girl who tries on stuff to make sure the arm holes are in the right place
Kerianne: Entrepreneur = ooo...this one could be ANYTHING. What's she hiding? Or could it be as boring as just "unemployable"?
Brooke: Community organizer = towel-checker at the Y. (Actually, she carries herself like somebody who actually makes things happen, so I'm being straight-up petty. But honest about it.)
Ashley H: Fashion model = trunk show model at Nordstrom
Lauren: Journalist = blog consolidator at YourHub
Lindsay: Substitute teacher = I don't care. That bride costume made everything else irrelevant. And made her tonight's Sad Drunk. Those substitute jobs might start getting scarcer after this show.
Kacie B: What the...?? Poor, dear, likable girl already went over Crazy Falls in a barrel on Ben's season, so I'll be pretty surprised if Sean gives her much leash. Oh--profession. I guess that would be "bachelorette" now. And awkward dress-tugger. Can someone please give her some tips on "effortlessly" sexy?
Bachelor Bartender: Not an actual contestant, but the person I most want to meet. This year's Opening Night Drunk Collapse from Ashley P. got me wondering what's in those wine glasses, because you'd have to drink a LOT of wine to get that wasted. But I clearly hadn't been paying attention: Jill pointed out that she's seen mixed drinks, including lots of fruity stuff sucked down through a straw, so...who's keeping the bar? Where is it? And most importantly, what stories can HE/SHE tell??? I think that's where you'd get the most accurate predictions for final four.

So...what are YOUR picks? Final four? Dare to pick Sean's actual future ex-fiancee? More insights? This is looking like a first-rate season!

Emily #10ish...the aftermath

On the night of the actual finale my local TV was running the memorial for the victims of the Aurora movie theater shooting. Kinda puts things into perspective. With the unscheduled delay, my DVR caught the first half of the show, getting me through the Arie farewell and up to Jef getting ready to propose. Good enough. Congratulations on, what, two or three months of happiness? By now, Emily & Jef are unofficially broken up, official declaration to follow. Apparently Courtney and Ben are recently broken up as well. Ali and Roberto, also done. The only loose end left is what's-her-anorexic-hand-talker and bald-nice-guy-from-New-York. Ashley! and...I want to say something like Jon. (This is how profoundly I care about these people.)

But of course I'll be tuning in for the next really entertaining train headed for a wreck. The victim at the front of the train? Sean Lowe, the blonde beefcake. Let's just hope they don't cast any of Emily's friends from the park. See you in January!

Emily #9: Isn't "men tell all" an oxymoron?

Need any more proof that The Bachelor/ette is nothing like the real world? I think the real reason we tune in to this episode is because we're so intrigued with the novelty of a big group of men sitting around talking about their feelings, dwelling on the past, re-examining things they did or said...Good luck coming up with just one example of another time or place where you'd see THAT happen.

But clearly, these producers are not idiots, and they knew full well that they could NEVER fill two hours with that, so we got a good long journey down memory lane with Emily first, then previewed Bachelor Pad, and only then talked to the men for as long as possible. (And then they still had to fill with a good long preview of next week.) But I don't mind, because I've really grown to like Emily. Boring Barbie no more. Sistah's a little salty, it turns out. And Bachelor Pad looks like another grisly, can't-look-away train wreck.

Figure 9.1: The dangers of knowing you're pretty

I do appreciate how much more direct the men are in saying what they think of each other than the women are in their version. I guess the trouble is women have SO much invested in being liked by everybody that when a woman confronts another everything turns straight vicious. The men manage to do it without all the snottiness.

In a show as weird as this, it's surprising what an accurate read we can get on people. Kalon edited = Kalon live. Nope, producers didn't make that Narcissus up out of little snippets from the cutting room floor. He is what he is (see Figure 9.1). Emily, when she got there, handled THAT piece of work just fine on her own, thank you very much. In a surprising twist, Ryan edited = well, Ryan live. No shortage of sweet self-lovin' there, either. With a wink thrown in for good measure. And Chris edited has just as thin a skin as Chris live. (So sorry he decided to do Bachelor Pad. Can you think of a worse environment for somebody who just needs to find a sweet, gentle, goodhearted girl who thinks he hung the moon?) Sean, of course, is still first quality. No faking that.

So...who's it gonna be? Chemistry usually wins, which tilts the scale toward Arie. But with a single mom, we've got a wild card. Maybe the pull toward the nice boy (with the nicer family) is a little stronger. Jef gets my vote, but of course, I'm not picking. Hmmm...

Emily #8: Kinda boring, until it hurts like no other

An episode for men! After all these weeks of bundling up in chilly places, it's bikini time! And for the girls, especially Emily's cougar friends, it's Sean-without-a-shirt time! (In board shorts, ladies. Calm down. Heavens--we're not Europeans, you know.)

Sean's date: Is he at all worried that he's going on a private-island date just like she had with Jake the last time around? And as I recall, conversation seemed kinda awkward on that date, too. So hard to watch him struggle with saying those scary, scary words that no one should ever have to say to someone who's contractually obliged to not say them back and is actively involved with two other people. This is such a weird show.

Jef's date: Sweet sloop. But poor Jef has the worst hair to take outside on a windy day. Huh--it's pretty much the same after it gets wet. Have they ever shown us Emily's hair wet? Seriously great beading on her dinner dress, though. (I think I'll keep my commentary entirely on how things look through this date.) Will they ever show us somebody trying to use that skeleton key in a hotel door? Oop--she just called him Honey. There goes my Sean-only theory. And that's as close as I can get to something else to talk about. Really, these dates are very orderly and well behaved and kind and nice and good. Not much to say.

Arie's date: Who doesn't look awesome with a mask and snorkel? Nobody. Okay, everybody. Though if you're Emily or Arie, your chances of not horrifying the person you're with are slightly lower than those of the general population. And goodness knows the trained, fenced-in "open water" dolphins don't care either way. They just want their lives back. But lucky for the young lovers, it's another full moon night! Wow--they've had one EVERY night in Curacao! What an amazing climate they must have!

And deserving its own line: Super-props to Emily on how she's conducted herself with the whole bizarre fantasy suite issue. And plus-plus props on how she handled the issue with Arie. Well done, girl.

The choice: Of course it's hard. Who in their right mind WOULDN'T want to keep dating three guys (all easy on the eyes and apparently compatible) who all profess their love for you and escort you on dream dates that are paid for by sponsors? Wait--there are video messages?!? That's going to solve it for sure. Sheesh. I'd hate to think my chances were shot because I'm awkward at video messages. (Everybody equally uncomfortable with someone at a party telling you to look in a camera and say something to somebody who's not there? No? Oh. Just me.) I'm genuinely sorry for whoever goes home tonight. These are three class-act guys who don't belong on reality TV and one of them is definitely going to suffer. I refuse to feel sorry for people who sign up to do this, but shoot. I'm gonna have to break my rule. I like every one of these guys. Ah, Sean. The "you're so perfect" problem from last week came back to bite--she didn't crack through the perfect shell in time. If they'd only had a little longer...good luck, Sean. I'd like to say you'll do well, but you're going to have a lot of trashy chicks flocking around you, and finding somebody real is going to be a challenge. Shucks.