Romantic Life Lessons

Yes, I Watched The Bachelor Last Night Patience Bloom

You’d think I’d be embarrassed but I’m not! I read romance all day long so I should be sick of love on Monday nights (8pm on ABC) but I’m not. My husband thinks the show is as interesting as watching paint dry, but I don’t care. He escapes by reading a French novel. I load my brain with juicy TV when I need to cleanse the palate from a day of reading, navigating the subway, and rushing to meet deadlines. Sean’s journey to find true love post-Emily kept me glued to the TV for two months. And now, I have post-partum and anxiously await The Bachelorette.

A devotee of scripted television, I came to The Bachelor late–right after my wedding when all I wanted to do was bathe in the glow of romance from sunup to sundown. My job has love covered by day. By night, while my sweetheart is reading Balzac, why can’t I watch real people find love in front of an audience? Chris Harrison must always host the show, of course.

After two years, I see how twisted it is to think that romance can happen this way–pitting 25 ladies against each other (at least one woman has to be insane) to win 1 movie-star handsome guy. Love can’t flourish in such an artificial way, can it? In front of everyone? With lots of choices? Fighting to the death? With one guy able to kiss so many women and not be seen as a player? Wondering who looks better in a bikini while jumping into freezing water? My feminist side is appalled, and yet, I still watch week after week because it gives me demented pleasure. My only question is what would happen if someone got the stomach flu?

As with my love for Cheetos, there are so many reasons why I shouldn’t watch The Bachelor. These reasons, however, have no control over my remote, which will stay tuned for more. Maybe Sean and his lady will be happy forever.

I just like the show…okay?

Romantic Life Lessons

I’m Ashamed at How Long It’s Been…

I’ve had posts running in my head but haven’t put words to screen until now. The truth is that so much is happening in publishing right now that I’m dizzy. I come home and flop on my couch (and read a little more).  By the time I carve out a free moment, all I want is escape. But can a romance editor really ever escape?

No. Because I am obsessed with the following shows. They help me with my job. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it:

The Bachelorette: Emily Maynard is as cute as a bug’s ear, a heroine I can buy into, especially as a romance reader. Yes, the whole franchise is cringe-worthy, probably offensive and not that conducive to finding true love, but it’s still so dishy for me. My money is on Arie.

Dallas: I worship at the altar of J.R. Ewing and his festive eyebrows.

Most true crime and romantic suspense-focused shows I love: Bones, Snapped, Criminal Minds, Breaking Bad, Deadly Women, Scandal, and Dateline. My husband is now obsessed with The Shield. No sooner do we finish a disc than he screams for another one. I had to up our Netflix subscription just to keep up. I’m biting my nails over how to cope when we finish the series…which will be this week. Any suggestions?

Mad Men: Can’t get enough of Joan! Wouldn’t it be cool to have a series set during this time?

The Killing: Last night’s finale. Whew. The bleak nature of this show fills my heart with joy. Plus the acting is so good.

The Real Housewives of Orange County and New York City: I loathe the petty confrontations over imagined slights and the bad acting. But I do love when women come together and have fun. The shopping is awesome as well.

Ally McBeal: I’m on the season where she and Robert Downey Jr. fall in love. I have goosebumps.

In books, I just finished The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg, which reveals the pattern of a habit and suggests how to break a bad one. I have no bad habits so this is all moot. In fact, I don’t know why I even read it. 🙂 After this, I devoured Fairytale Interrupted by RoseMarie Terenzio, personal assistant to JFK, Jr. an engrossing read. In between these, I read Fifty Shades of Grey and felt fifty shades of red creeping up my neck. I do love when people get obsessed with a book. I chose the right profession.

More pet peeves to come. Wishing I had a dime for all the heroes who rake hands through their hair!