Week 3, The Girl

Solvang, California which is, no joke, where I was. Can you
 believe Andi and the gang didn't go here? It feels like a missed
opportunity.

I was hoping to knock a few posts out quickly before I made may way to L.A., followed by a little jaunt up the coast to Santa Barbara (Either because I wanted to really get into my roles as commissioner this year by channeling Andi on the Dorfman trail of tears or I had a mildly coincidental wedding to attend). It's small consolation to me that last week's two-episode ordeal is to be followed by a week of nothing because the strain of watching two vaguely action-packed but largely banal sets of dates will surely have me spending the mini hiatus convalescing on my fainting couch (which is, of course, where I write all my blog posts, eat the vast majority of my bon bons, and, of course, concoct all my schemes for all to ensnare the men in my neighborhood who are of adequate fortune and marriageable age). But whether we blame the high dosage week or Andi's actions, I have feelings about this week and they ain't all "anxious" or "nervous" or, you know, good:

- I usually refrain from commenting on date dinners because they tend to be in highly predictable if mildly hilarious locations. I can't say for sure whether overcooked salmon is better pushed around your plate in an enchanted grotto or a bioluminescent cave or an historic and probably haunted pre-Columbian Inn (mostly because, regardless of location, I would eat the damn salmon), but I can say that this week's date with Nick was particularly ridiculous. Don't get me wrong. A courthouse is as inappropriate a place as any to murmur about vaguely before very obviously failing to eat a plate of good, but this was so clearly a telegraphed reminder of "Hey, no matter what happens - let's remember, she's a lawyer" that I can't even treat it with the concerted disinterest I usually feign while wishing I had their food.

- On the one hand, Boyz II Men (which incidentally, were the authors of my first ever compact disc: Boyz II Men II for which the liner notes cleverly replaced the word "to" and all of it's homophones with the sexier Roman Numeral) is so, so much better than this show. On the other hand, any guy who wasn't completely geeking out by their appearance was completely incorrect.

- Nothing made me happier last week than the editors' decision to cut from one of the guys describing the scene as "People hanging out of windows and off o balconies and stuff - it's nuts" straight to a shot of three women sitting calmly and without any sort of ill-advised "hanging" on their deck. Thank you editors. You are forgive your past sins. 

- Andi is apparently planning to take up heavy, heavy smoking some time in the next 50 years.

- I have to say, it also made me feel incredibly happy to see the difference between the WNBA date and that horrible Italian soccer date from Des' season. Alpha males or not, it is a huge testament to this gang's utter lack of Juan Pablo-style machismo that every guy out there knew from the start just how badly they were going to get their asses handed to them.

- Does anyone enjoy the harrowing fear of heights dates? Seriously, is there a focus group somewhere that is telling ABC that all the best love stories involve crippling mental anguish and some sort of heavy-handed trust metaphors (and if so, can I have the members' home addresses? I have a whole stack of magazines just itching to be cut up into threatening letters)?

- Is it just me or is the tragedy just a little too tragic to handle this year? Maybe everything just feels heavier in light of what happened to Eric - and I know it's all ostensibly "real," but between Eric, the death of Ron's friend, and pretty much everything that's ever happened to Dylan, there's been some really rough stuff that I don't think the program is well-equipped to deal with. From Andi seizing Ron's departure as an opportunity to talk about how lucky she is to have people "giving up their lives" to her failure to ask a follow-up when Dylan mentioned his brother's funeral (and seriously, Andi, this is review from last week, but "crazy" is "stop it" part II. Dylan having spent high school with his now lovingly maintained hockey hair in an Andi-style ombre'd mullet would be "crazy." The tragic death of both his siblings is not) to the disappointing and somewhat disgusting tribute to Eric that focused mainly on how Andi feels knowing that she won't get to see him at the Men Tell All, this show just isn't built for real life that's quite so real. I know the show often feels an artificual pressure to escalate the drama from one year to the next (and, while I highly doubt Chris Harrison has recently taken up paraglider tampering, it does occasionally feel like bringing on a contestant-assassin to pick off his competitors one by one is the programs inevitable end), but I sincerely hope they recognize that acceleration needs to be in a weirder not sadder direction unless they want to leave us all behind.