Saturday, August 10, 2013

He Said, She Said Post 1

Hello, Readers.  Welcome to the first Post-Desiree Off Season Post and the inaugural He Said, She Said between Lincee Ray and me.  We agreed on answering three questions this time to get the old football off the tee and into the backfield.  All three questions this week came from female readers but next week Yours Truly has gathered a man’s questions.  Lincee has to squirm every now and then.  Preview?  "Why do we need 15 pillows on the couch?"  I love it.   

Thanks to all of you for sticking around.  You can find Lincee’s answers to these questions on her site, Lincee's Answers Feel free to comment on either site.  We’d love to hear your feedback.  Now let’s get to it. 


So, over the last three months I have lost 30 pounds - going back to my high school weight.   I have worked hard and am rightly proud of myself.   BUT, a guy that I was interested in before is all of the sudden interested now.    Is it ridiculous that I won't give him the time of day because I would want someone to like me no matter what I look like? 


First off, congratulations.  I’ve mentioned to this in my off-season posts before but I once went through a really tough time in my life and gained a lot of weight.  I took all of it off over a period of 5 months and it felt great. 

As I was losing the weight, I had more confidence (if that’s possible), felt great, slept great, and was motivated a great deal by my appearance. I enjoyed eating healthy.  I cut back on my vices (even Lone Star), and I took great joy when people would comment on how good I looked.  Hell, even the agony of working out became more cathartic and bearable because I knew I’d see results.  I’m sure you can relate to everything in this paragraph. 

Let me ask you a simple (and direct) question:  If losing the weight made YOU infinitely more attractive to YOU then why in the hell shouldn’t it make others more attracted to you?  Moreover, why second guess it when it happens?  The fact is (and you know this) that appearance is an incredibly important factor when it comes to initial attraction—particularly for men.  It works the other way as well.  

When was the last time you were so overwhelmed by a comb over and a delicately saggy beer gut artfully hidden beneath a stained NFL jersey and a pair of baggy cargo shorts that you set your drink down and marched over to the guy and declared, “I’ll bet you a week’s pay that beneath those ill-fitting clothes, flabby body, and milk white legs is a gorgeous man.  Please take me back to your parents’ house and make sweet love to me after you get done playing Halo 4?”  Exactly. 

I am, however, not oblivious to the real issue here.  You’re problem with the situation seems to be that the guy knew the chubbier you and didn’t seem interested so why should you “share the new goods” with him in exchange for his apparent shallowness?

My answer is still the same.  Give the guy a shot.  Address the weight loss issue up front and tell him that it’s a concern of yours.  He’s going to lie about it anyway.  Just take his answer as sincere and let him buy you your new diet’s equivalent of steak and lobster.  The only question here is how YOU feel about HIM.  If he’s worth knowing as more than a friend, you’ll figure it out.  So will he.  Oh, and don’t obsess about gaining a few of those pounds back.  Thankfully, if he’s truly in love with you, he won’t mind.    


Lincee and Some Guy...battle this out: What about Des’ natural look (most of the time) vs Emily’s totally made up face and hair all the time?



Women.  Good Lord.  Allow me to dissect this for you, Sal in Utah.  Incidentally, you’re a loyal reader and commenter.  It’s always nice to see that you’ve read and I’m always interested to see what you have to say.  Thanks for that.  Now to your question. 

My guess is that Lincee will ride the fence on this one.  Let me not do that.  After all, Lincee is an infinitely more tactful and decent person than me—I mean that.  However, brutal honesty has its place.  Let me answer for “Men” and then let me answer for Me. 

In Texas, if you want to catch a beautiful striped bass you don’t head to the lake with catfish bait.  You can troll through bass-filled water all you want but no bass is going to bite.  You’ll spend all day reeling in catfish after catfish wondering at the end of the day why you’re sitting on your ass with no bass. 

Allow me to unveil the thinly veiled metaphor. 

If you dress like a slut you’re going to attract guys who like sluts.  If you dress like a lumberjack you’re going to attract men who prefer lumberjacks (and a whole bunch of women who also dress like lumberjacks).  The bottom line is that what you wear and how you appear in public is tantamount to baiting a hook.   Let’s face it.  As evidenced by Anon’s first question above, women want to be noticed and they want not only to feel pretty but to appear pretty to the opposite sex.  That’s natural. 

Men want a woman who is HERSELF.  If you’re not comfortable in your make up (no matter how much you wear) or the clothes you wear than that’s going to show.  Appearance is very important but a man will lose interest if the rest of what he’s looking for in a woman isn’t there.  The only exception to that is if a man is only looking for one thing in the first place. . . 

As far as Emily goes, she’s beautiful.  That’s a fact.  With our without makeup she’s attractive.  To Some Guy, her clothes, house, and the way she carries herself scream high maintenance.  She likely takes a long time to get ready and spends a lot of time, money, and effort on her appearance.  Some guys like that.  Some Guy doesn’t. 

Then again, Emily came from a blue-collar community in West Virginia and, from what I understand, grew up modestly.  If that’s true, what we’re seeing in her is likely a balance between the “West Virginia Hood Rat” and the Barbie Doll.  She seems cool to me and perhaps her attention to her appearance is rooted in the fact that she grew up not being able to afford the things she does now.  To her, feeling pretty and done up equals a departure from her family’s struggle with money when she was younger.  It means she's escaped what was holding her back.  That's a guess, but my point is that it's easy to look at her all done up and make a judgment. It might just be more complicated than that.  

As for Des, the same is true.  I’m certain that she loves to feel pretty and she’s most confident when she does.  No girl wants to wear form-fitting outfits the day she “starts” because she feels bloated and uncomfortable.  However, some girls feel just as uncomfortable covered in foundation, powder, and whatever else goes into putting a face together.  Des struck me as one of those girls.  Des looked most comfortable in her rented mansion in her t-shirts and shorts.  She was a bit Ugly-Duckling-ish in her evening gowns.  She's attractive, but in a different way than Emily.  There is no "better" or "worse" when it comes to that; only preference.     

FYI, I dated a girl in college whose bathroom vanity looked like one of Michelangelo’s scaffolds from the Sistine Chapel.  Half the time I expected to find her lying on her back painting religious frescoes on her bathroom ceiling rather than getting ready to go out with me.  It was brutal. 

The bottom line is that it boils down to what an individual finds attractive.  Some men like the made up porcelain doll, some men like natural beauty.  I prefer the latter as opposed to the former.  For the record, Mrs. Some Guy is pretty to me fresh out of the pool or the gym.  I prefer that.

I Love Some Guy.  He's Money.
Look how pretty she is.  To me, putting make up on that is like putting an unnecessary coat of paint on a brand new car.  

My final piece of advice is for you and you alone.  If you’re dressing a certain way or doing your make up in a certain way because you think you know what men like it’s not going to work.  Be yourself and be comfortable how you present yourself to the world.  Ultimately, that’s what the “right” guy will find endearing.     


All the that really what will get you to the finish line or is it creepy?


I suppose “creepy” is a purely subjective term in this situation, isn’t it?  Apparently, it worked on Desiree—well, sort of.  The guy she really wanted to end up with dumped her hours before she made a forced decision to saddle herself with Chris and his journals but I’m sure the poetry contributed to his second place finish.  As we all know, if the winner is incapable of performing his duties (read: poses in Playboy) then the Runner Up will step in and assume them. 

If we expand the question beyond the extremely limited confines of The Bachelorette, then I think the answer is a resounding yes.  Dudes have been writing sonnets, odes, reflections upon, or haikus to women since the written word showed up.  Expand poetry and add some music and that’s gotten introverted nerdy guys to the Fantasy Suite for centuries.  Granted, Chris is no Shakespeare.  Hell, he’s not even Howie Day, but whatever he did worked on the woman he says he loves.  Props to him for making it work.

I’ll give Chris the benefit of the doubt and assume his career as a horribly mediocre poet did not begin with the acceptance letter from ABC to be on the show.  If that’s the case then I’m hard pressed to criticize the guy for finding a way to express himself (no matter how hokey it came across).  It seems to me that today’s woman wants it both ways. On one hand, she expects a man to be her rock and her safety net.  He is to be hard, unaffected by emotions, and decisively masculine.  On the other hand, women often have a problem if a man is emotionally withdrawn or unavailable.  This is probably a subject for another post, but the problem (I think) that a lot of men have is simply trying to get clear direction on what a woman wants and expects both in a courtship and in a relationship.  The signals are a tad mixed to say the least.  That’s why guys with five o’clock shadows take time making shadow boxes of their poems for women like Desiree.    

So, yes.  If I took to writing heartfelt, albeit poor, poems for the woman I was pursuing and she appeared receptive to it, I would continue to do that.  I don’t fault Chris for doing the same.  I’m just sorry the rest of us had to sit through it.  

Well, there it is.  Granted, this week is relatively controversy free.  Perhaps we’ll work on that between now and January.  Keep the questions coming via the comment sections and Twitter.  Enjoy the rest of the week.  In the meantime if you need me, I’ll be frantically writing poems for a high school friend who lost a bunch of weight recently.  DP

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Bachelorette Desiree Episode 10: Que Sarong Sarong

There's nothing Sa-wrong.  I found love...sort of.

Alright, Readers, let’s get right to it.  For those of you who follow me on the Twitter, you’ll know that I’m all over the board on the big finale.  I suppose I’m happy for our teary-eyed Bachelorette and our completely oblivious “winner.”  Finding love is a good thing—even if it’s forced, temporary, and television-induced.  Then again, all ice cream cones melt, don’t they? 

On a positive note, I’m thrilled with Juan Pablo as the selection for the new Bachelor.  Sure, he doesn’t read, speaks poor English, and it’s questionable if he’s gainfully employed but when in the hell has any of that mattered on this show?  He looks good running down the beach and is willing to have himself filmed while showering 4 times per episode.  

I’m certain that the only question--aside from the running and showering--that needs to be addressed is whether the guy has 60 days with nothing going on beginning in early November.  The answer to that is, of course, Si.  It’s on.  Let’s make the most of it, shall we?  

With a final Amazing Count at 170 (not including the Men Tell All) and the final Journey Count at a whopping 53 it’s been a record-setting season.  For the statisticians in the audience you’re already aware that the Amazing count registers at 19 per episode and the Journey count comes in at 6 per episode.  

The word “inane” comes to mind when I think about it.  The good news is that Juan Pablo’s tenuous grasp on the English language will likely alleviate the all-too-frequent use of those two words.  I’m sure we’ll be introduced to their Latin equivalents.  

We begin part 2 of the most (insert provocative adjective) season finale ever in the history of season finales with (SIGH) a recap of part 1.  Good Lord.  I reviewed less material before I took the Bar Exam for crying out loud.  We see Des crying (again), Brooks crying (again), Des getting dumped (again), and Des’ anguish juxtaposed against the quiet majesty of Antigua’s flora and fauna.  Irony can be pretty ironic sometimes.     

A refreshed Harrison arrives to play Twenty Freaking Questions with a puffy-eyed Desiree who is clearly over the tropical island and all of the bullshit.  I suppose that falls under the “be careful what you ask for” chapter in Des’ secret Are You There God?  It’s Me, Des Journal, but, unlike me, Harrison saw no need to step on her head while she was drowning. 

By the way, don’t ask me how I know about that book.  It horrifies me every time I think about it.  I don’t want to discuss it . . . Period. 

I realize that those of you old enough to appreciate the book are chuckling into your Kindle screens right now while the rest of you have simply moved on to the next paragraph.  Frankly, that makes me chuckle into my MacBook Air screen.  Annyyyhooo . . .

We retreat to the Lair of Seclusion. 

OHCH:  How ya doing today? 

Des:   I’m neither expressive nor amazing. 

OHCH:  Too bad.  I had an AWESOME time at the beach party last night.  There was this limbo show with some of the island chicks and then a donkey showed up and . . . Oh, I’m sorry. You must be devastated.

Des:  It's ok, Chris.  You’re expressive.  I understand.  I just want to go home.  It’s just that Brooks leaving was such a surprise.

OHCH:  Well, to you but not really to anyone else.  Still, that has to hurt worse than an Antigua sunburn.  When are you going to get around to dumping Drew and Chris? 

Des:  Oh them. 

Des “great guys” Drew and Chris and Harrison breaks out the Bachelorette Bayonet and begins the jabbing.  Drew is apparently the “sweetest guy in the whole wide world.”  He’s so “expressive.”  At that point, I was ready to express Lone Star through my nose.  Des’ coral, silk maxi dress flows silently in the wind as she tries not to cry off her eyelash extensions.  Over it, Harrison sets up what the team discussed in the pre-production meeting: the Rose Ceremony must go on. 

With Rolls Royces on the way, Des retires to her Rapunzel tower to gather her thoughts. She meets Harrison at St. Anne’s Point.  Never mind St. Anne's Point, I silently prayed Des would get to her own point as soon as possible. 

Chris and Drew shake hands and congratulate each other on successfully forgoing the foreplay and taking care of business in the Fantasy Suite.  They are, after all, real gentlemen.  Harrison butts in and suppresses the desire to say “Y’all are not going to believe this sh*t,” before announcing Brooks' 'sudden' departure.    

Des shows up.  Chris knows something’s up.  Drew thinks he knows something’s up.    After a long, awkward pause Des drops “you might notice that Brooks isn’t here.”  Yea, Harrison just told us that.

. . . and the second runner up is . . .

Dude, that was brutal.  Both dudes get a rose and Drew slowly but certainly begins to realize that he’s going to need his carefully tailored sharkskin suit and matching vest for the AFTR rather than a tropical proposal.  Chris wallows in denial.    

Cut to Harrison back in studio for meaningless, time-killing banter with four brunettes, a middle-aged ‘blonde’, and some woman who looked like Taylor Swift on a Prednisone cycle.  ABC had some cash lying around because Brooks and Des never rented their catamaran.  They felt sorry for her so she gets two more ‘dates.’  Well, actually one pseudo-picnic to dump Drew and one catamaran date to decide if she’ll settle for Saget.

Am I the only one who thinks that's funny?  Apparently. 

Back to Antigua. 

Des journals. 

Dear Diary, 

After last night’s Red Stripe and beef enchiladas I’m feeling very expressive this morning.  I’m off to kick Drew to the curb and see if I can bring myself to pick Chris.  I wonder if OHCH will give me a peek at the Neil Lane selection before I decide? 

Love, Des 

P.S. (I hate this.  I just want to go home.  Amazing.)   
P.P.S. (Amazing.)

Des puts on her best face and attempts to stay on script.  Props to her for realizing she was stuck with no choice but to play along. Drew shows up in purple shorts, powder blue boat shoes, and a t-shirt.  

“Dude, is that the way you really want to go out,” I thought.  He had to know he was getting canned.  I would have showed up drunk and shirtless in a Speedo and flip flops.  Where’s Zak when you need him for God’s sake? 

They horseback ride and awkwardly converse down to the designated dump site.  Des and her half shirt and karate pants drops, “I’d be so lucky to have you,”  (say it with me) BUT…followed by a bunch of apologetic platitudes, a good luck, and a see ya later. 

If Drew had any foresight he would have had a bottle of rum chilling in the ice bucket back in his room.  Frankly, I’m not sure if he knew what to think.  I couldn’t tell if he was sweating or crying.

Drew leaves the beach and secretly plans to fly to Chicago after getting Mikey T. and James’ cell numbers from Harrison’s top intern.  There’s bound to be room on that boat for another dude and--if we believe the Mikey Brothers--there will be a collection of concupiscent co-eds in search of a recently released Bachelor awaiting his arrival.    

If I were Drew (and believe me, Drew is no Some Guy) I would have headed straight to the bar.  However, I’m not certain Drew and the word “straight” have an honest relationship at this point.

Alright, that was mean.  I’ll own it.  Drew was actually pretty cool about an obviously humiliating experience.  Dare I say he handled it like a man?  He didn’t cry and (as far as I could tell) didn’t call his mom crying from his limo or wander off on some profanity-laced tirade about being submarined or whatever.  It was clear he loved Des and maybe that’s why acceptance trumped denial and sidestepped anger.  Good for him.  I’ve given him a hard time this season, but he seems nice enough.

Back to Des decked out in her best strapless bikini and black sarong.    

We all know it’s so much easier to gather one’s thoughts without the burden of clothes.  Des tells us that she was “very hoping to find love.”  I was very hoping to not run out of Lone Star before hour three. 

Chris arrives in a turquoise v-neck and puts on his best Make the Most of the Situation Face.

Chris:  Well hello, funny face.  What do you have planned? 

Des:  Oh nuthin’.  Still wondering if you’re going to be here in 10 minutes.  You want to go on a catamaran ride with me so I can think about how Brooks and I were supposed to go on the same catamaran ride before he derailed my dreams? 

Chris: SURE, that sounds fantastic.  Should I wear a cardigan?    

Bless his heart, he did his best to act “normal” but trying to make out with Des under those circumstances was a really bad idea.  That’s like the defensive end trying to spoon the quarterback on the field after the linebacker just took his head off. 

They chat over fruity cocktails and “Expressive” becomes the new “Amazing.”  Des begins to accept the idea that Option 2 is as (or more) viable as the no-longer-available Option 1 and she’ll likely never have to live in fear of Chris waking up one day and realizing he wants to move to New York, live in the West Village, and skip to work.   

Confident, Des strolls over and knocks on Chris’ door.  You’re in, Brooks is out.  “Oooo,” I said aloud.  “Chris might want to wait to watch the show before he talks to Neil Lane.”  Des looked about as shaky as Bambi on ice.  She’s still on the fence but won’t say it. 

Chris:  I’m technically the last guy you slept with, so there’s that.

Des:  What rhymes with Expressive?

SGIA:  Excessive.  Move on. 

Here is a picture of Bambi.

This is also a picture of Bambi.

Chris gets a begrudging invite to meet Des’ family (read: deal with her idiot brother).  Chris gives Des yet another secret journal and Des tells us “Never in my life met someone like Chris.”  Well, besides Brooks but he’s back in Utah.  Where’s Dr. Jamie when she needs him?  Lord knows he’s not still helping Womack. 

Another secret journal?  Top that off with the fact that he wrote 3 or 4 dedications and filled the thing with all of this season's poems he's been dragging us through and I began to understand the premise behind Fahrenheit 451.  

Back in studio amongst the orchids and roses.   

Bach alums and perpetual hangers-on Jackie, Lesley, Lindsay, Sean, and Catherine share their “expertise.”  There hasn’t been so much time filled since the Big Bang—and I’m not referring to the Fantasy Dates.  Why Harrison had to play Phil Freaking Donahue and interview these five is beyond me.  Make the damn show two hours and mix in a rerun next time.  Don't these people have jobs?  

Jackie looked great.  When Harrison asked her the Brooks vs. Chris question she dropped, “We drilled her pretty hard while we were there.”  Yea, you and everyone else on the island, Jackie.  Thanks for teeing it up for SGIA.

Goofy Lesley opines and it is abundantly clear that her new hair can’t cover up her quirkiness.  I liked her on the show during Sean's season.  Hopefully she’s worked on her emotional unavailability covered by awkward giggling and has found a fellow blossomed nerd with whom to share her quirkiness. 

Lindsay talks.  Ah, Lindsay.  Still hot.  Still vacant.  I believe I could feel Catherine glaring at her off camera.  

Nate the Ball Buster 

Aren’t we all tired of Des’ brother?  Des clearly was.  Des was an emotional wreck.  The last thing she needed was her brother’s shit.  That apparently didn’t matter to Nate and his pirate outfit.  How uncomfortable did she look during that exchange? 

How do you feel about my sister?  

Chris should have written a poem for Nate and given him a journal so Nate could capture his emotions.

Deer Dyary,



I assume Fleiss provided written assurance to Nate's Probation Officer promising to keep his passport in a really safe place prior to letting him leave the country.  I was glad when that was over. 

Cut to the standard “waking up” scenes and greeting the “most important day of their lives” on the balconies of their respective suites.   Chris rolls down to the boat house for a tete-a-tete with Neil Lane (who still looks like Paul Anka). 

It’s an Emerald cut, blah, blah, blah.

Neil Lane:  Yes, I’d like to insure one emerald cut diamond ring.

Neil Lane’s State Farm Agent:  Sure, for how long?

Neil Lane:  7 months.

The big proposal begins after the standard roasting in the sun by the flowers and the sea scene is dragged out indefinitely.  Chris and Des talk about Brooks . . . and Drew . . . and she reassures him that she wants the Neil Lane ring . . . I mean she wants to marry him. 

Finally, Chris drops to one knee and recites a painfully sappy set of canned comments about a life together, kids together, poems, puppies, butterflies, ice cream and some other stuff I couldn’t stomach before finally asking her to marry him. 

The following conversation actually took place between the SLF and me: 

Me:     Aren’t you glad I didn’t do some stupid shit like that?

Thoughtful, Reflective Pause

SLF:  Yes. 

Me:  I bought you booze, a ring, . . . and a house. 

SLF:  (laughing) That should go in the blog. 

So there it is.  Chris and Des are officially engaged and out in public.  I can’t say that I feel as sentimental as I usually do at the end of a long Bachelorette season.  This is normally the place where I throw in a comment about making fun of the show but being really happy for the newly engaged couple and wishing them well.  Frankly, I don’t believe it this time.  I think Chris does love her but I think he’s ignoring the fact that she loved someone else right up until the point she told him she loved him.  I think Des is settling for second place.  Regardless, I hope it works.  I reserve my cynicism and look forward to the ABC-sponsored wedding instead of the People Magazine-sponsored break up media blitz. 

With that, we wrap up yet another season of the weekly escapism named The Bachelorette.  I’m rooting for Juan Pablo and praying he’s not a one trick pony.  Hopefully, the guy will be able to carry a season instead of boring me to tears in the first ten minutes of the opener. 

As always, thanks to all of you for reading and for sticking with me.  For those of you who’ll depart now, I hope you’ll come back in January.  For those of you who’ll stick around in the off season, I have lots of great subjects to tackle.  As I mentioned last week, Lincee ( and I will be doing a He Said, She Said series over the next few weeks.  The first one is in the cannon and will be posted very soon.  Send in your thoughts and ideas and shoot me a message on Twitter every now and then. 

Take care of yourselves.  In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be shopping for a skinny tie to match my sharkskin vest.  DP