A Date with the Devil

It's happened. Last night, while reflecting on the brevity of this year's season of The Hills, I sent a text (or txt to the lazy) to my sister, asking what we were going to do for Monday night television. At the time, I was watching the sweetest movie ever made, Overboard, on the Oxygen network. Then fate intervened.

I know that most reality junkies such as myself will be shocked to learn that I have not yet watched a single season of The Bachelor (in this case, The Bachelorette). Mainly because it seems so silly that two people would really marry each other after knowing one another for only six weeks, but that could just be my bitterness of having to wait three and a half years before the question was popped. I guess I shouldn't be that surprised, as I've also never watched an entire season of Survivor, Dancing with the Stars or American Idol. Now that I think of it, I've stuck to the quality reality programming on MTv, because what functioning adult shouldn't be enthralled by those crazy kids in Laguna Beach?

My sister texted back about The Bachelorette, so my date for the night was determined. What followed was two hours of furious back and forth text messaging, because Sherri's daytime minutes are gone until tomorrow...for the second month in a row, and her "anytime" didn't start until an hour into the show. Our ritual of calling on commercial breaks would have to wait until the second hour of this edge-of-your-seat season opener. Yeah, it's amazing where they're able to find the drama to insert that music.

Can I just say, wow?! I was amazed at the men who were 'presenting' themselves to this woman, and the amount of confidence they displayed in their sweet martial arts moves, or their dedication to the proper application of hair gel for a 'great first impression.' Um, last I checked, a man's fake tan, hair gel and frosted tips are not a turn-on. I am eternally grateful to MTv for the abrupt season this year, because it has allowed my and Sherri's extreme cattiness when it comes to people in whom we have no vested interest or real connection to have the best venue ever! FYI, I was very surprised when DeAnna handed a rose to The Mullet and The Virgin...two of the more unlikely candidates upon interview, but I'm sure the producers needed something to stir it up at the homestead.

I'm just glad that I now have a reason to look forward to next Monday, since at this point, it's obviously not going to be holding a new baby in my arms. I swear, I am going to end up like that woman in India who discovered she had a forty year-old calcified fetus in her womb. C, COME OUT!

I fail to blog for a couple of days, please don't call to ask if it's because I'm in labor. I'm most likely just too lazy to walk upstairs to the computer. You'll know if I have a baby.