Week Two: Almost Too Painful to Recount

When we left Emily last week, she'd made some pretty good decisions. I'm not ready to give her a gold star just yet though. Let's see what happened this week. (Warning: The Muppets preview makes me very, very concerned about the cheese factor...especially since some of these guys are already over the top cheesy. Stevie the dancing "MC" with Muppets? Yikes!)

My live recap:


Segment One
- Oooo...we're meeting Emily's friends at the park! Although, she refers to them as "Ricki's friends' moms". Awkward. Also, she has a bug in her hair. This is the South, people, what do you expect? It's buggy down there.
- Back to the bachelor house. Time to find out who scores the one-on-one date and who gets stuck in the group dates and who doesn't get a date at all. Single dad Doug (whoa! where was he hiding those guns last week?) does the honors with the first date envelope. And Ryan (Mr. Southern Accent) gets the one-on-one date to be Emily's "king in the Queen City". He's "unsurprised" and already making allusions to his Southern upbringing by mentioning his pastor and referencing bible verses that ABC quickly edits out.

This is Ryan: Yes.

Segment Two
-  The men are swimming shirtless when Emily arrives. Gratuitous wet pec shots ensue. Excuse me a sec while I hit rewind. Also, Arie is wearing a cardigan- why?
- Emily drives to the date. Is Ryan as nervous about her playing with her hair while she navigates as I am? No. He is too busy speculating on their future life together.
- The date consists of unloading groceries at Emily's house?!? Yep! They are making cookies for Ricki's soccer practice. Emily is making Ryan wear an apron. He is quite concerned that he no longer looks like a man but appreciates the "realness" of the date. (Um...he kind of has to, right? Have you ever seen a contestant on The Bachelorette say, "F--- this sh*t!" and walk out? No. So, live it up, Ryan.) They are stirring chocolate chip cookie dough with a whisk. It is clear neither of them actually knows how to cook.
-Back to the house for bachelor speculation about what's going on on the date. Snooze.
- Ryan and Emily head over to drop off snacks at soccer practice. Ryan has to stay in the car. When Emily returns, Ryan tries to convince her that, yeah, it's totally cool that their date involved him being her errand boy for the day. Because, you know, real life is, like, awesome and stuff.
-Gotcha, Ryan!! Your date isn't ending at Chuck E. Cheese (although, way to sell that, Em!). Nah, you get a romantic dinner in the dark, and a chance for a smooch still.

Segment Three
- Begins with Ryan ironing shirtless. Nice.
- Ryan exits from getting changed and finds Emily in a smoking hot, tight, one-shouldered red dress, sky-high heels and in front of a fancy sports car. He gets to drive! Manhood restored.
- There's a red carpet and a crowd of fans for Emily's date as they proceed...into an empty restaurant. Emily jumps right in with questions about ex-girlfriends. She drills him on the cat-mouse aspect of dating. What does he do when he's "caught" the girl? The lights must be really hot, because they are both sweating profusely. We never see either of them actually ingest food.
-Back at the bachelor house, second date card arrives! Alejandro, Nate, Alessandro, Tony, Michael, John "Wolf", Jeff, Charlie, Kyle, Chris, Aaron, Stevie and Kalon will "set the stage for love". These smarties figure out quickly that the date MUST have something to do with theater. Bunch of intellectuals you've got here, Emily.
-Ryan and Emily are all gooey-gooey, but Emily has some doubts Ryan is "too perfect", like Brad. WHAT?! Emily- let's have a heart to heart about Brad ASAP.
- Ryan gets the rose. They talk Southern to each other for a while (if you're not sure what this is, it involves lots of "honey" and "y'all"s and a few "you better believe it"s) then go outside (back to the crowds and the red carpets, I mean SERIOUSLY?! Charlotte, have you nothing better to do?) to find an impromptu concert. They proceed to dance through a song and tell each other how happy they are in front of bored Charlottetonians. Ryan is secretly pissed, because he knows Southern etiquette means he can't plant one on Emily in front of a crowd. Gosh dang it!

This is Jef (just one "f"...who knew?): Yes.

[Note: This next segment could be where the show jumped the shark. The group date you are going to read about was so painful, I had trouble continuing the blog. Muppets, Emily acting, bachelors singing and dancing. No, ABC. Just no.]

Segment Four & Five- The Group Date
- 13 bachelors head out on this Muppet debacle. Apparently, the "show" they take part in is a benefit for Emily's favorite charity. I hope it benefited someone since ABC makes us sit through it all.
- Stevie shows up for the date wearing a beret askew. He is like a caricature of a Jersey Shore personality. That is not a compliment.
- Miss Piggy (I am stooping to new lows as I prepare to quote Miss Piggy) has a thing for Nate, too, just like Emily. I'm still not sure why this is as I have yet to observe Nate speak. Must be his strong resemblance to Wesley from the Princess Bride. As you wish...
- Nate, Kalon, Stevie, Alejandro and Chris are assigned to the "dance" number. Jeff, Michael, Troy, Alessandro and Aaron are assigned to sing (although we are mercifully relieved of watching this) and Kyle and John "Wolf" do something that Fozzie calls "comedy". If you are not cringing and wishing you could fast forward live television at this point, then we might not be watching the same program.
-Emily and Charlie ("I fell off a balcony") have a heart-to-heart about his disability which apparently, besides making him nervous about public speaking, gives him the good sense to beg out of participating in the "comedy"skit with Kyle and John.
-I can't write about this sh*tshow any longer. If you want more, contact one of the 500 people in Charlotte who paid good money to attend it.

Segment Six
- Thank god it's time for the post-show cocktail party. Can we all drink enough to forget the Muppet Show?
- Emily's "talks" are fairly unmemorable. Chris makes his case and Em reciprocates. However, it's Jef that is really tugging at her heart (or her loins...let's be real). Why? Well, because he's playing hard to get, of course! Emily wants Jef to want her, so she gives him the date rose. (Uh...way to go, Emily. *That* will really make him work for it.) Although I find him oddly appealing, my wealth of dating experience says Emily should pull back on this one a little and give it more room to air out. Make him sweat it out a bit.
- Sad scene of Arie, Travis, Sean and Doug sitting around lacking dates at the bachelor pad. Travis and Sean should be worried. No way is Emily letting Arie and Doug go though. Those lips will live to see another day.
- Stevie has given Kalon a nickname-"Chopper". Aaron starts a skirmish for Emily's time with "Chopper" that I could care less who wins, because I find them both so incredibly skeevy. I suddenly wish Emily could send Stevie, Kalon AND Aaron home instantaneously. Chris Harrison, where are you?

This is Joe: No.

Segment Seven
- Emily's last date of the episode is with goofy Joe. They're off to somewhere "close to Emily's heart"- West Virginia (I am not making this up). Apparently, Emily is from West Virginia and grew up at The Greenbrier. This begins to explain how she's been raising a child alone in a fancy house with no discernible job or income.
- Good things for Joe: He's the first bachelor to see Emily in a swimsuit. Bad things for Joe: His entire personality.
- This is clearly a painful date for Emily. The conversation is stilted and awkward and Emily is trying everything to push Joe to be interesting. But no, Joe cannot overcome his awe of Emily's beauty and "Southern ladyness". Emily cries a lot and then gives him the boot. He does not take it well. No camera confessional for Joe. (In his defense, I'd be pissed if you flew me to West Virginia so I could get dumped, too.)

Segment Eight
- Cocktail party time!
- Arie finally grabs time with Em and, man, he nails it. He's got her fluttering in no time. I was not worried. Those lips are worth 3 or 4 rose ceremonies alone.
- Ryan ticks everyone off by stealing time with Emily to give her (I SWEAR I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP) a 7-page note he wrote about their date. I'm nearly certain Emily wants to take his rose back. She tells him it's "sweet", but she means "annoying".
- Of course, we can't be too upset with Ryan, because he's only staving off Tony. Ugh. Tony.
- The cocktail party wraps up with an everyone-hates-Kalon session. Yep. Got it.

Segment Nine
- Rose ceremony. When the last rose finally rolls around, it looks like Stevie might go! Hooray! Can we put Tony and Kalon in his suitcase??
-No. It appears we can't because Kalon gets the first rose of the night (you'renotfoolinganyoneABC), Tony earns a rose, too, and it's Aaron and Kyle who are sent home. Only Kyle cries about his "broken heart". Good grief, man. You went on one group date with the woman.

Final verdict: Decision-making could have been worse. The Muppet Show could not.

RECIPE
In Emily's world, it may be bachelor season, but in mine, it's strawberry season- maybe not as hot, but just as juicy! I was lucky enough to be staying in Charleston when they first popped there and now have them in abundance in DC. Two months of gorging myself on them has been luscious. Here's how I used them this week.

STRAWBERRY and ASPARAGUS SPINACH SALAD
Serves 4-6 as main dish

For Salad:
Spinach, about 6-8 cups washed
Strawberries, 1 quart (at least!), sliced
Asparagus, 1 bunch,(blanched in boiling water for 3-5 minutes to tenderize slightly, cool in refrigerator)
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1 small log of goat cheese, broken into chunks
almonds, sliced (optional)
1 red onion, sliced (optional)

For Dressing:
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar (adjust to taste)
1/4 good quality olive oil (adjust to taste)
salt/pepper (to taste)
1 tbsp honey
2 tsp poppy seeds (optional)
2 tsp sesame seeds (optional)

1. Assemble all ingredients. Pour dressing over in desired amount just before serving.

Um, Yeah, I'm Kind Of Excited for the Olympics Now

Well done, Vogue, well done. Typically, there's absolutely nothing that will tempt me into squandering my kale money on a magazine full of advertisements, clothes and people that you would never encounter in ordinary human life. Putting Ryan Lochte (without clothes) on the cover, however, did the trick in enticing me to cross boundary lines. As one needs to be able to unselfconsciously gaze upon such loveliness, I brought it home and was pleased to discover the fun didn't end with male swimmers (although it totally, totally could have and I would die a happy woman). There's a whole wonderland of Olympic hopefuls in this article inside.

Yeah, yeah, equality of the sexes dictates I mention that female Olympic hopefuls got the sidebar/asterisk treatment. And, I'll be cheering for them, too, come July.

I just don't need to spend my kale dollars to take them home.


{Addendum: Whoa! This issue also includes a feature on Marcus Samuelsson who is, like, only my favorite chefbrity since, oh, the beginning of time. I wish it came with audio, because I love his accent, but Vogue is still seriously killing it this month. I can *almost* forgive the bathing suit spread with Jennifer Lopez. Almost.}

Expectations

I'd like to begin this post by objectifying men:

You're Welcome

Not Unexpected Things This Week:

• Creepy Stalker dudes: Dimples Emoticon (there and also here) reminded me he's still around with a "Que pass :(?" message. Last time I checked, this means nothing in any language. Still, this guy is so (a) persistent (b) ridiculous and (c) attractive, that it kind of made me think again about dating him just for the potential gold mine of a story and my curiosity. I unofficially polled a few of my girlfriends to see whether they thought that was crazy. One of them was my NYC, brunette dating doppelganger over at 100FD. Of course, she needed to take a peek at his profile, easy enough since we're both members on OkC. As soon as she did (OkC tells you who's looked at your profile), SHE got a message from Dimples that was actually the VERY SAME message I first received from him. I'm so tempted to bust him on this, but I fear he's not bright enough to get the joke.
• Wimpy dudes: An email from a guy with an intriguing profile who only had a picture like the below posted. When I asked if he was in witness protection and hinted it was shady not to have a picture of your face, he replied "I prefer not to have my picture on here :)". This is two strikes for: (a) being the trite cliche of the Guy Who Still Thinks Internet Dating is Embarrassing. No self-respecting woman wants to date this dude. Get over yourself already. This isn't 1999. No one cares. Put up a picture or expect no dates. Also, grow some balls. (b) Improper use of emoticon. How is that statement smiley? I HAVE pictures up, so we're not in cahoots, champ. A silly grin won't hide your sketchy lack of confidence.

• Cheesy Dudes: I fear I have reached an age where you can no longer refer to me as "cutie". Flattering, yes. Appropriate, no. Also, for approximately the 106, 567th time, women hate messages that say only, "hey, ____ [insert purely superficial adjective], what's up?" This is NOT an opener for an intelligent or witty conversation. Stop it.

Unexpected Things This Week:

• Ballsy Dudes: Remember this whole proclamation that I'm going to view men as people not potential from here on out? Get to know them as friends and take it from there? Apparently, you have to make sure the MEN are on the same page as you about this or the plan goes awry. My date this week was fine. Typical. I wasn't feeling it romantically, which was not a problem since my whole goal was to see if I liked the guy as a person. Our conversation was clunky, he was so low key I had trouble relating to him, I'm pretty sure I was both taller and broader than him, just very meh, in general. Still, he was a nice guy, smart, we had a few things in common. By the time we wrapped up the date, I felt like we both must know we hadn't really clicked on any level. I used the word "friend" a lot during the conversation. (This is where the unexpected part comes in.) I'm used to guys not always getting the message. I'm used to feeling somewhat ambivalent about a perfectly lovely guy. I'm used to slightly awkward post-date conversations. What I am not used to is the guy who breaks off the goodbye-hug on a crowded street corner, just as my cab arrives, to pull me in for a first date kiss. Hell, I can't even remember (HONESTLY CANNOT RECALL) kissing on the first date that I did not initiate. Huh. Now, no matter what I decide about this guy, I certainly can't call him a coward. (Incidentally, a word I use quite often to describe men.)  I gave this guy no signals that I was interested in him, and he still went for it. Pretty damn confident. Did not see that coming.

Other Tidbits for your weekend pondering:

• My new favorite Tumblr: Yo, Should I Dump This Asshole? 
• This entry from Suri's Burn Book (soon to be an actual book!)
• Channing Tatum. Um...I just watched The Vow, which I didn't really care for, expecting him to be the weak link and Rachel McAdams to be the selling point. Wrong. I actually found him not-so-lunky and kind of charming. He's not my type, but I bought him as an actor. Can someone back me up here and tell me I'm not crazy? Also, thanks to Entertainment Weekly, I'm now kind of excited to see him again in this. I don't usually get revved up by what my mom would refer to as "beefcake", but I'm intrigued, I'll admit.
• Mad Men on Bravo's Inside the Actor's Studio. Did you watch? Did you also find January Jones actually, gasp, likeable? Shocking.
• Finally, if anyone is watching Bravo's Top Chef/Amazing Race knockoff "Around the World in 80 Plates", just try to tell me Nick doesn't look exactly like the guy who was not Ryan Reynolds from Two Guys, A Girl and A Pizza Place. 

Happy Weekend, Everyone!

It Isn't All Roses and Sunshine (ok, fine...yes it is)

I woke up this morning in a hot panic when I realized I didn't know tonight's date's name. (True story.) I'm not going to label this as any sort of omen, but, um, I might want to do better.

One person you can't blame for botching a name or two is ABC's The Bachelorette. Meeting 25 potential mates in one night is both my ultimate fantasy and my greatest nightmare (but mostly my fantasy). (Note: The Bachelorette is assigned an individual producer to feed her names. During those first rose ceremonies, they feed her the names she's chosen in batches with camera cuts in between.) The newest season of The Bachelorette premiered this Monday with Emily Maynard running the show.

I watch The Bachelorette maybe every other season (usually when they air in the summer and my brain is on pause). I can't say I was particularly excited about this season as Emily didn't strike me as particularly interesting during Brad's season of the Bachelor. (We're never really informed as to why things didn't work out with them after the proposal.) After watching the first episode though, I'm happy to say that Emily may have just been reflecting Brad's lack-of-a-pulse (poor man just did not come off as very articulate or bright or warm), and I'm cautiously optimistic she's got some signs of life in that hot little body of hers.

If you live under a rock, Emily's tragic, yet heartwarming, story is that she was engaged to marry a race car driver named Ricky in 2004 (uh, when she was 18, but let's not get hung up on judgmental details). Sadly, Ricky was killed in a plane crash in October of that year on his way to a race. Soon after, Emily discovered she was pregnant with their child. Little Ricki is now 6 going on 7 (I've done the math, it works) and Emily is 26 and desperate for a "minivan full of babies". Hey, she's from the South, don't pick on her for fulfilling stereotypes.

Besides the whole single mom thing, this season is unique for taking place in Charlotte, North Carolina, so Emily can be closer to Ricki. For the first episode though, you can't really tell the different between Charlotte and LA. Episode One subjects us to the horrible limo arrivals followed by group cocktail hour. Emily uses the word "awesome" approximately 259 times while the men seem stuck on "stunning". Here are the 25 bachelors (yes, I took notes as I watched, get over it) with a few highlights of the evening:

• Sean, 28, Dallas, TX, Insurance something or other: Sean walks with a bit of swag or has a club foot. Other than that he's completely unmemorable.
• David, 33, NYC, Singer/songwriter: In the opening "sneak-peek" at a few highlighted bachelors, we get to see David singing a song he wrote for Emily. It consists of the word "Emily" over and over and no other words. He then refers to her as "well-postured". I'll leave that up to your interpretation. When he meets her, he eyes her up and down. I find him creepy and cocky.
• Doug, 33, Seattle, Charity Director (no shit!) and Realtor: Doug is a single dad of a 12-year old. He brings Emily a fairly sincere and adorable letter from his kid that makes her misty and moves her to give him the First Impression rose. Single Parents Unite! Despite all this, I actually find him rather sweet and honestly nervous. 
• Jackson, 29, Lockport, IL, Fitness Model: Jackson gets the hokiest and least sincere introduction moment when he gets down on one knee and gives a rehearsed speech about Emily being breathtaking. Or something. ICK.
• Joe, 27, LA, Field Energy Advisor (someone look that up): This dude was super goofy. That's all I have to say about him.
• Arie, 30, Scottsdale, AZ, race car driver (dun-dun-DUN!!): Arie is hot. I'm pretty sure I dreamed about his lips afterwards. I also like that he got right down to business at the cocktail party and copped to his profession. Emily's cool with it. After all, it's the only sport she really knows about.
• Kyle, 29, Long Beach, CA, finance advisor: Completely unmemorable.
• Chris, 25, Chicago, Corporate Sales Director: Tells Emily he called his dad for advice about meeting her. Sweet. Also gives her a Chris bobblehead doll and an Emily bobblehead doll. Emily says in confessional that she thinks he's hot and thoughtful and then clinks the two dolls together in a kiss. Against my better judgment, I'm finding her endearing and more playful than I expected.
• Aaron, 36, Long Beach, CA, High School Biology Teacher: Upon meeting Em, tells her "I may be a biology teacher, but I'm here to have chemistry with you." Blech.
• Alessandro, 30, St. Paul, MN, Grain Merchant (isn't this a profession from the 1890s?): Alessandro is from Brazil and speaks Portuguese upon meeting Emily. She speaks Spanish back. CLUNK. Kudos to ABC for not sparing Emily the embarrassment of her mistake though.
• Jeff, 27, Salt Lake City, CEO of a bottled water company that has a charitable component: Jeff skateboards in on the back of the limo rather than in it. Then, throws the skateboard into the bushes as he walks up the stairs to meet Emily. At first, I find him young and possibly immature, but by the end of the episode, I really like him. So does Emily. She thinks he's "cool" and hopes he finds her "cool, too" even though she feels a bit "nerdy" around him.
• Lerone, 27, LA, Real Estate: Lerone is the only African-American. I'll let you guess where this is going. Remember, we're in North Carolina. Just saying.
• Stevie, 26, NJ, "Party MC" (this was not in quotes on the show, but, yes, I am questioning if "party MC" is a real profession): Also fulfilling state stereotypes is Stevie. He dances in to Emily with a boom box and zero chemistry. I will be sad at the end of the night when I realize he lives to see another cocktail party.
• Charlie, 32, Nashville, Recruiter: Charlie fell off a balcony several years ago and injured his brain. ("But, not my heart!") He has the cutest bulldog ever. When he walks up to Emily, he tells her how nervous he was about tripping before he reached her. She earns HUGE points in my book when she responds authentically, "I fall ALL the time. These heels are way too high for my own good- I'll probably fall tonight." Nicely done, Emily. I like you, too, Charlie.
• Tony, 30, Beaverton, OR, Lumber seller (?!): Tony is also a single parent. His first wife cheated on him, and he has a soul patch (presumably unrelated). He's also a fitness enthusiast and has cheese to spare. He brings Em a Cinderella-type shoe on a pillow and makes her try it on. Not a fan of him, but he does give Emily the set-up for one of her best lines of the night. "Well, I do believe in love AND fabulous shoes." Dump this dude. Stat.
• Randy, 30, Hermosa Beach, Marketing Manager: Randy dresses as a grandma to meet Emily. Everyone feels uncomfortable. Especially when he takes off the grandma outfit to reveal his real clothes consist of a mint green large lapel shirt under an open black vest. No.
• Nate, 25, LA, accountant: Emily tells him he smells good and then let's out a "so cute" as he walks away. Guess we know her type now. Seems shy though.
• Brent, 41 (YIKES! Older than Brad who was 38. Too old for Emily!), Fresno, Technology salesman: Brent brought a name tag. He has 6 kids. He is goofy. And did I mention, 15 years older than Emily. Who wants MORE kids. Really, ABC?!?
• John "Wolf", 30, St. Louis, Data Destruction Specialist (is the network just making up careers to see if we're paying attention?): There's a weird chemistry when these two meet, but I can't put my finger on it yet.
• Travis, 30, Madison, MS, traveling sales representative: Travis brings an ostrich egg with him to show Emily how he will care for her and Ricki. He is also sweating profusely. 
• Michael, 26, Austin, TX, Rehab Counselor: Michael has long hair and looks 18. He's into music. That's all I've got.
• Jean-Paul, 36, Seattle, Marine Biologist: Nothing. I literally cannot tell you anything about this man. Just forget him.
• Alejandro (yes, there IS an Alessandro AND an Alejandro), 24, San Francisco, Mushroom Farmer (I COULD NOT MAKE THIS UP): This Alex speaks Spanish. Whew.
• Ryan, 31, Augusta, GA, sports trainer: Dude is charming and nervous in a cute way. She digs him at the first introduction. We can listen to them speak Southern to each other all season.
• Kalon, 27, Houston, Luxury Brand Consultant: Besides sounding like a comic book villain and having a name that screams to have a "y" inserted into it, Kalon arrives via helicopter to ensure that ABC has a dude all the other dudes will hate. It works.

When it came to saying good-bye to 5 men, ABC didn't even tell me who they all were. Lucky for you, I'm a crack researcher and have good logic skills.

Emily said, "Adios" to:

• Lerone. Yep, we all saw that coming. Apparently, this season there's not even a false token of  political correctness.
• Brent. Got a little weepy that he's never finding love again. (Um, Brent, probably just not on national television with a 26-year old. Pull yourself together, man.)
• Randy. Speculated maybe the Grandma costume was a bad move. Hindsight and all that. 
• Jean-Paul. So unmemorable, I almost didn't remember he was kicked off.
• Jackson. If you stayed through the credits, you got to see the fitness model reveal what Emily would *really* be missing. Hint: It wasn't his brains.

And we're off!

RECIPE

What goes with The Bachelorette? Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. Beyond that, you're probably going to want something light and healthy. Nothing like watching a gorgeous woman being wooed by 20 or so attractive men to spark a hotter body eating plan.

WASABI FISH with Bok Choy, Green Cabbage and Shiitakes

Adapted from a recipe in Bon Appetit 

This dish is easy to prepare, doesn't require constant attention and can be pulled together on commercial breaks. I like to serve it with jasmine rice on the side.

1/4 cup mayonnaise

1 1/2 tsp wasabi paste (or wasabi powder mixed with a little hot water to create a paste)

about 1 tbsp. finely chopped or grated fresh ginger, peeled 

2-3 garlic cloves, finely chopped or grated

1 1/2 lbs. of fish (I prefer halibut or wild salmon)

1 head of bok chok or 2 heads of baby bok choy

2 cups cabbage, shredded (you can usually buy this pre-done)

4-6 oz. shiitake mushrooms, sliced

2 tbsp olive oil

salt/pepper

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F. Heat 2 rimmed cookie sheets during the preheating process.

2. Mix mayo, wasabi, half of ginger and half of garlic in a small bowl. Refrigerate until time to use.

3. Spread a little olive oil over fish and sprinkle with salt/pepper.

4. Combine bok choy, cabbage and mushrooms in a large bowl. Drizzle with olive oil, add remaining garlic and ginger. Toss to distribute evenly. Season with salt and pepper.

5. Scatter vegetables along one cookie sheet and place fish on the other. Roast, stirring vegetables once, until fish is cooked through (probably 12-15 minutes).

6. Serve wasabi mayo drizzled over fish and vegetables.

Keep the roses for yourself.

Airing It Out

My friend Nikki over at Cupcakes for Breakfast clued me into this bloggers' trend. Over the last week, it mostly circulated around the design blog world who, for all their shiny, happy appearances, have some more nitty-gritty real life things happening behind the scenes. It encouraged some of these "picture-perfect" lifestyle pages to air out a little rawness and show people a few rough edges.

Well, LHBH is already pretty messy and honest. If anyone's reading this blog consistently, I think they're aware that the dating scene isn't rainbows and puppy dogs. Still, I have some Things I've always been hesitant to mention. Given that this coincided with my Brene Brown course on vulnerability and addressing shame, I figured, hell, why not just say them?

So, what am I afraid to tell you? Mostly, it's that I sometimes get angry. Really angry. Throwing things at the wall, running until I can't catch my breath angry. Even now, I paused again before saying it, because you mention anger and single and woman in the same sentence and people leap towards "bitter". And bitter I am not. At least, not towards men. As a matter of fact, my anger isn't directed at anyone in particular but more towards the universe in general. This isn't sadness. It's not curl up in a ball and weep over my life of loneliness sort of thing. I'm not lonely. I'm generally not sad. My life is unmistakably wonderful. But, yeah, sometimes I rage. It's a rage that is the frustration of being unable to work for, buy or barter for the one thing I am missing. Sometimes, it's a fucking temper tantrum. Sometimes, it's a quiet storm. I can't deny though that the anger lurks in the deep corners of my being.

My dirty little secret is the ire I feel that I haven't found love. I'm not even talking happily-ever-after love. I simply mean love where you love someone and they love you back in a similar fashion. I'm angry that there is no chit to call in that allows you to count out all the times you've practice self-sacrifice, been the best person you could possibly be, spread as much kindness as you were physically capable of, so you could love and be loved. I'm angry that openness, generosity, talent, humor and smarts may get you a lot of places, but they won't always get you to love. I'm pissed that the way love is doled out isn't fair or consistent or, really, based on any modicum of sense at all.

When I'm changing the sheets or trying to put a band-aid on my own thumb or moving furniture or dealing with a flat tire, I sometimes get ticked that I have to always rely on myself or the charity of a friend's husband/boyfriend. I'm mad that I hesitate to tell men my age at first, even though I'm grateful for the years behind me, because I know society has made their possibility pool so much wider and deeper than mine. And, yeah, I'm pretty goddamn angry that all the men I've really fallen for have happily called me "friend", but never aimed to call me something more. What kind of universe does that to a woman over and over again?!

I get pretty f-ing mad that life has dealt me so much GOOD that I feel guilty every time I wish for love. Even the anger feels unjustified. More than that, it's infinitely irksome that almost everyone I encounter, including my own parents, assumes my singleness is the result of something I did. The judgment of singleness is an infinite source of anger. Does everyone think you haven't considered all those things before? Do they not realize the only real difference between them and me is luck?

I hate that even the thought of writing about the anger that results from the absence of love took my breath away, because it's laced with so much shame. After so many times of being questioned about being single, I hate (I hate, I hate, I hate) that even I sometimes believe it must be something wrong with me, something I have or haven't done. I abhor the situation (and my own mind) that's created these doubts for me. I'm so angry that the inability to find love has, at times, made me feel unworthy of it.

What am I afraid to tell you on this blog? It's that sometimes, yeah, I'm just really fucking pissed off at the caprice of love.

What I'm not afraid to tell you is that this blog is my love lifeline. If I didn't have this spot to laugh about, pontificate about and sometimes even cry about the world of dating, I might crumple and give up. Sharing these stories, hearing yours and knowing that others have felt the same is my own version of courage. LHBH keeps me in the water and, sometimes, that alone is the best way to overcome your fear.

Dating Advice from Don Draper & Other Random Thoughts

Would you take dating advice from this man? Of course you would, silly. Instead of my dating drivel today, let's allow Mr. Hamm to give us some words of wisdom, shall we? (Note: This video is mostly aimed at teenaged girls, but it's still hilarious.)

Is farting on a date with Jon Hamm ok? Check it out here.

A few other random Thursday thoughts:
1) I have pink eye. In both eyes. I don't know how this happened as I spend as little time with children as I pretty much possibly can. (I still love your kids though.) The past 4 days I've been quarantined in my apartment because apparently, viral pink eye is not as easy to cure as bacterial pink eye. These are things I'd like to file in "stuff I wish I'd never had to learn". You know it's heinous when you walk into your doctor's office and she promptly exclaims, "OH MY GOD! You look disgusting. I hope you haven't been going anywhere like that." (Of course, this is also the same doctor who said this about my dating life.) sigh.
2) Speaking of Jon Hamm, how long do I have to watch this season of Mad Men before I can give up? People who tell me it's all going to have meaning at the end of the season make me want to punch them in the face. Why would I give up 14 other hours of my life for one hour, 3 months from now? I'm not spectacular at math but that ratio seems off to me. That said, I love Joan, and Kiernan Shipka is pretty much the coolest little actress around. Monday, May 14, the cast (Betty/Don/Roger/Joan and an appearance by Sally) will be on Bravo's Inside the Actor's Studio. The way the media has been talking about this you'd think it was like James Whathisface was getting ready to ask the freaking President, "What's your favorite swear word?" (Honestly, is there anyone whose favorite swear word is not f*&k?) Anyhow, if you worship at the altar of Mad Men, I think you'll be excommunicated if you don't watch it. So, you're welcome.
3) Speaking of the President, I'm impressed with him. Regardless of how you feel about marriage equality (and you should be for it in reasons I'm happy to enumerate for you at a future date, but "equal" being the key word), it's super ballsy as the leader of a country where people are still (ass-backwardly) opposing it to say you support it. I think this indicates that Obama really acted on his conscience. If you never read the news and have been living in a political black hole for most of your life, maybe you don't realize how rare this is. But, it is. Rare. You have to give the man some respect for that if nothing else. As Joe Biden would say (or perhaps has, most likely, already said), "It's a big f*&king deal."
4) This week's WinningNotWinning OkC email is: "Hi babe..how are you??and how was your day??am new on here and was checking for people and stumbled on you..I'd like to start a conversation from here if you don't mind though!..I'd be glad if we can..thanks babe  "Let's just be honest here. Calling me "babe" twice in an introductory email is not just OkC suicide, it's enough to make me enraged for a week. It's like this guy was time-warped out of Saturday Night Fever. Not to mention, did he even READ my profile? (or more to the point, does he even read?) Also, do two question marks mean he is *extra* curious? And start a conversation about what exactly? My babe-yness? Long story short: if anyone's going to call anyone "babe" in a relationship, it's going to be me.

RECIPE
I might not be enjoying this season of Mad Men, but I AM enjoying asparagus season. (YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE?) This little appetizer is an easy staple I go back to again and again.

ASPARAGUS-PROSCIUTTO BRIOCHE TOAST
This recipe can be adjusted to make as many or as few appetizers as you'd like. Figure one stalk of asparagus, 1 tsp of dressing, 1/2 slice of prosciutto per serving.

3-4 oz. prosciutto
bunch of asparagus (about 10-12 stalks)
loaf of brioche
dijon mustard
shallot
olive oil
white vinegar
butter

To assemble ingredients:
1. Finely chop one shallot. Combine with about 1 tablespoon dijon mustard, 1/2 cup olive oil and 1/4 vinegar. (You may want to add 1/2 or 1 teaspoon of honey to taste.) Adjust dressing to taste (for me, this usually means adding more vinegar.) Season with salt and pepper.
2. Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Cover a cookie sheet in parchment paper. Cut each prosciutto piece in half. Lay prosciutto on paper and bake for anywhere between 4-8minutes, depending on thickness of meat. You want prosciutto to be crispish but still a bit pliable.
3. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Drop in asparagus stalks for about 4 minutes. Remove and shock with cold water. (should still be bright green and fairly crisp.)
4. Cut brioche into slices about the size of a deck of cards. (I save the extra pieces and use for bread pudding.) Heat a little butter in a skillet over low-medium heat and pan toast both sides of each toast.

To assemble appetizer:
Place a slice of cooked prosciutto on each toast. Cut asparagus to fit the size of the toast and cover prosciutto. Drizzle over a small spoonful of dressing.


What's in season that you're enjoying now?

Story Hours

Remember this book from your childhood? (It's not a Dr. Seuss book. They just pimp him out to get people to buy drivel like this. In fact, I'm pretty sure this book doesn't even rhyme. One of many disappointments.) Basically, an incredibly irresponsible mother bird leaves her egg alone and flies off to find some food or something. (I think it was written before CPS became a real thing.) Meanwhile, the baby hatches and despite the fact that he's never met -or even know he has- his mother decides to go off and find her. (Sometimes children's books really underestimate the brain power of those under 10.) I can't remember how the bird tumbles out of the nest and starts on his journey, but I do remember he encounters all sorts of absurd stand-ins for his mother along the way. (Most of which might be inclined to eat him for a snack, but, you know, this is a children's book, so it's overlooked.)

The story then becomes incredibly tedious as it repeats the same scenario seven or eight times over. (Cow, are you my mother? NO. Dog, are you my mother? NO. And so on. That was only two and you're already bored. See what I mean?) Basically, ANY animal the baby bird encounters he assumes could be his mother. (Remember, baby bird is not the sharpest tool in the shed.)

Then, the book takes a serious turn to the delusional when baby bird starts calling modes of transportation his mother. (Even 2-year olds scoff at this part. Try it. You know I'm right. If your kid doesn't snicker, you should definitely think about having another kid, that model's faulty.) Is a car his mother? Is a boat his mother? (I mean, COME ON, this hatchling's encountered death ten times over and we're still not at the end of the story.) Finally, at the zenith of impossible scenarios, the baby bird is in the midst of asking a POWER SHOVEL if it's his mother when it lets out a loud guffaw of steam. This is when the book delivers it's one attempt at (intentional) humor (if anything about a baby bird in the jaw of a giant bulldozer can be funny) and the bird says, "You're not my mother! You're a SNORT!" (Hilarious.) Seems like the little guy is finally catching on.

To wrap things up tidily, the shovel manages to drop baby bird right into his nest just as mother returns from the local pub...err, I mean finding food. They both enjoy a hearty laugh over little bird's story. After all, they are MFEO (made for each other, you should really go watch Sleepless in Seattle again) as neither one of them is very intellectually gifted. Then, they presumably live happily ever after. Or at least until mom needs to get her drink on again.

What does this have to do with my dating blog you ask?

People, I am the little bird. (Except I was in the gifted program and graduated at the top of my class and all. Just to self-validate.) I realized recently that I have spent the past few years asking every single man I met "Are you the love of my life?" (Not literally asking them, of course. That's insane.)

Just like the story, it's become boring and absurd. At some point, I stopped seeing (most) men as people and instead as possible make-out partners, long term mates or boyfriends. I started to miss the journey of knowing people as just, well, people. I convinced myself that every man that came into my life had to play some part in the larger story.

And, my poor friends, oh god, they've listened to my version of "Are You My Mother?" approximately 200 times. I'm surprised tears don't trickle down their faces every time I have a date.

I've had enough of this. From now on, I'm clamoring to know people, not potential dates. Sometimes, men are just men. Sometimes, they're lovely friends that will teach you what a good man looks like and sounds like even if they aren't the good man for you. Sometimes, they're total douchebags that hold no meaning at all. Maybe even, they're just a Snort along a much longer journey with a totally different plot altogether.

Every man doesn't need to be a part of the happy ending.

{In fact, it would be totally creepy and possibly illegal if they were. Just saying.}