Sean Lowe: Frizz-Ease Enthusiast

Two thumbs up for my six-pack

On last night's episode of The Bachelor I was transported back to the halls of middle school. Except in Bachelor world, middle school is a mansion in which we take away all but one school boy, remove studies, chaperones, and extracurricular activities, and add in an exorbitant alcohol budget. What we were left with is a class of hormonal girls who survive on vodka and botox to dramatically win the heart of the most popular boy in school, all while trying to bring back the "bump-it" to tame their frizzy hair. It was a cocktail of competition, insecurity, 90's catch phrases and bad attitudes, interspersed with random scenes of Sean showering. And it was the best part of my Monday.

First let's give credit where it's due. A lot of my commentary was infused by the hilarity of my viewing parner in crime, Emma Poliseno. So if you laugh, she likely had something to do with it.

Now onto the show. Where to begin. Oh - well the natural choice would be in the shower where amidst his rinse and repeat, Sean just couldn't help but ponder getting down on one knee, and came to the conclusion that it could really happen for him this time around (so long as the woman of his choice does the same in the fantasy suite...)

And let it be known, Chris Harrison and Sean have quite the bromance as evident by Chris's constant need to stray from his cast-in-stone script to describe Sean as the most sincere bachelor in the history of bachelors, ever before. WHAT?! You mean to tell me that every bachelor has not been sincere....?! Santa is not real?! Shocking news Chris. I knew fish stick was really an asshole...

Let's also talk about the fashion for a moment. Did I miss the memo that dream catchers are now being used as earrings, and cut off booty jeans paired with a sequined top is considered coordination? I've gotta stop shopping at Old Navy - clearly I'm missing the latest trends.

I wonder what the people in the office building were thinking.

The first one-on-one date began when a helicopter landed in the driveway. Kacie B was shocked to find out that Sarah and Sean were about to be taken away on a helicopter for their romantic date. Really Kacie?! Really?!  You've been here before... like...last month. You know the drill. Stop whining and being so insecure or else I am going to force feed you hamburgers.

Sean and Sarah really connected and used their get-to-know you time wisely by spending it in an impossibly loud helicopter, and then falling off a building. Let's not forget to squeeze in time to talk incessantly about the fact Sarah only has one arm.... not two... just one... count it.. one....only further dramatized by some interesting camera angles of Sean trying to navigate around it - super awkward. This show has a tendency to harp on the obvious - Emily Maynard is a single mom. Jason is a single dad. Sarah has one arm. We get it people. Move on.

After Sean got a new pair of pants from peeing himself - I mean "protecting his woman" - on the way down the building, we finally got to see these two have a real conversation. A conversation I couldn't understand because I was too distracted. No. Not because of the arm situation - it was that nasal voice. I would have kept those helicopter ear muffs on the whole rest of the date just to get through it.  I guess it was just me and Emma, because Sean gave her a rose and was blown away by her awkward bird-peck style of kissing and Sarah was falling in love. Little did they realize they were both just suffering from altitude sickness. And as Emma so candidly pointed out - Camera 4 - you have GOT to stop zooming in on her nub. Not appropriate.

Wait, you mean to tell me she left her hair product at home?!

Next up is the group date. Sean was excited to have the chance to talk to the girls. We didn't see a lot of talking happening at all. Instead, there was a romance novel photo shoot complete with elaborate costumes, intense bickering and shock and awe to discover that one of the girls had the unthinkable... hair extensions. The photographers were certainly in on the drama as they instructed the girls to rip off Sean's shirt to expose his chest - anatomy we have never seen before on this show.

In a nutshell:

• Tierra wanted to strangle everything in her path and likely has split personality disorder.

  

  Former President of the Frizzy-Hair Club

• Kristy needed a xanex.
• Catherine is a vegan but she loves beef.
• Selma really liked the way Sean says the words "my wife."
• Kacie B and Katie had a frizzy-hair club committee meeting
• Katie decided this stress was going straight to her hair..  I mean head, and she was not cut out for this, so she sent herself home, with zero rebuttal from Sean - I guess frizz-ease is a non-negotiable for him.
• Kacie B was so in the friend zone and so desperate not to be. Sean only gave her a rose on the date so that he wasn't seen as a bigot against frizzy hair following Katie's departure. But seriously, she can start packing - which from the looks of it won't take too long since she refuses to wear pants with her shirts.  

"All of this has been infused with alcohol for your pleasure..."

My front-runner so far is hands-down the lovely Desiree. On an orchestrated candid-camera style one-one-one date at an art museum, Sean saw that she reacts like a normal human being when being accused of ruining multimillion dollar pieces of art. He is taken aback by how great and again - normal - she is, which just makes me wonder - what kind of girls does he date in Dallas?! Something tells me he is used to fake girls who are as believable as normal women as that awful paid actor (who I think was on meth) was as a french artist.

After the prank, he takes her back to "his place" for a dinner "he cooked" (and as Emma noted - we're glad it wasn't for the vegan). Their conversation seemed really natural, as did the progression to the hot tub shortly after, where the audience was privy to some weird bubbling sounds. What was that sound? - oh wait.. that was the sound of Sean's "body" responding to the "heat" of the "water." They were both super excited that they were on the same page, aka - equally naked. They were just really feeling each other - which I'm sure was not hard to do through Sean's skin tight Popeye swim trunks. She gets a rose.

Tierra - 24 going on 12 and certifiable

Finally we get to the rose ceremony. Here are some of the highlights -

• Wedding dress girl and Sean had a real connection when they established that they might lose their hair and get fat as they get older.
• The women are really starting to do the math and figure out that there is a lot of them and only one of Sean.
• Amanda looked constipated - like she was cramping on her period and had to take a dump all at the same time. 

Overall, Sean is blown away by these women, or as Emma put it - Sean is easily blown. What he doesn't realize is that the true cause of this is the  "tornado of negativity waiting to happen" inside the brothel... I mean, mansion.

Then Chris does his same contractually robotic speech. Emma and I just really want for him one day to break out and say something new.. just once... come on....

Here is the first thing that came to my mind as each girl was called:

Ashlee - Pageant queen
Lindsay - Why?! Really.. why?!
Robyn - He must like the chocolate. Good for him.
Jackie - Princess Ariel
Lesley M - poor Leslie H
Selma - Hayek
Catherine - Mulan
Kristy - that pastel lipstick looks like an easter egg threw up on your mouth
Leslie H - holy moly!
Teirra - Forehead scar makes me wonder if she was the evil version of Harry Potter in a past life
Taryn - wait... you're still here? Who are you?
Daniella - I think she has eye-roll turrets

BUT WAIT - in case you couldn't count (which in this group is questionable) it's the FINAL ROSE NOW...

Amanda - she smiled, so she must have gotten in a good shit


I felt bad for the single mom, Diana, who seemed sweet enough but I thought it was very noble of Sean to send her home if he wasn't feeling the spark, aka she wasn't putting out. I don't even remember the other chick who went home, and I'm tired. Google it.

 I am sure they will go on to meet some nice fellas. In the meantime and in the words of my dear friend Emma, "chug some wine sisters - its the only thing that keeps the train moving."

Grounded

I'm the left.. cut off strategically, but now you know the truth.

I have size 11 feet. Yes. My high school best friend was the only person I could share shoes with. My high school best friend was a dude... and we would often get our men's large rainbow flip flops (all the rage) confused. He would laugh. I would cry. Good times.

There is no anatomical reason for me to have such large feet - I am only 5'7 and yet my feet are equipped to ground a 6'5 sumo wrestler. I trip a lot. When I was a competitive swimmer and we had our flipper exercises, people would joke that I didn't need my flippers.... I had a stellar turn-out in dance, but sadly my Beyonce thighs kept me from having a true ballerina physique. So you get the idea - my feet are huge and fitting into cute shoes is like trying to fit in a lifeboat on the Titanic - mass chaos.

I am probably the most "grounded" of my family members who didn't quite get the clown gene, and I take a bit of pride in that, even while having the people at the sneaker store gawk while measuring. It makes me unique and it gives me something about myself to share with others that will undoubtedly draw disbelief and a good laugh. And while I do wish sometimes I could have transferred this endowment to areas other than my feet... I have come to embrace them. They have taken me to some pretty incredible places and walked me through what I think has been an extraordinary life.

When you turn the corner to acceptance, whether it is about something as silly as the size of your feet, or maybe as deep as the scars on your heart, there is a feeling of empowerment and peace. I will never be able to change the size of my feet. No but really - there is no legal surgical procedure FDA approved to shrink them (I googled). But that is okay by me. And now, when I go to a shoe store and there is nothing in my size, I am grateful because that means I can reallocate those funds to afford my rent this month. Small victories.

So treat your past, your mistakes, and anything else you wish you could change but simply can't, like I treat my large feet - with acceptance. Those experiences will walk you through your future with more wisdom than you can imagine, just like my feet will carry and dance me forward, one (large) step at a time.

Side note: I think there was an interesting trade off happening in heaven when I was being created because I have super small ears. I'd prefer that, so I guess I got the better end of that deal.  Thanks God. Props.

Reasons I don't tweet.

Twitter is a social media phenomenon some would call revolutionary because it gives people's random thoughts an outlet to be shared with the world. If those thoughts are interesting, noteworthy, or funny - I agree, this can be an entertaining and informative platform. But I pretty much can't recall the last time I even went on twitter, let alone posted anything... In fact, once I even accidentally said "pound" instead of "hashtag" in everyday conversation as an attempt to be cool and "with the times." Epic fail.

So I decided to check out my account to see what I have ever tweeted and I remembered, the spring before 2009, I actually tweeted quite a bit after I was asked to provide my handle (which I had to consult Jordan to confirm I was using this term correctly) on my CMT internship application. So, in looking back I found these little gems circa the college years....where all I did apparently was wish and complain the stupidest crap I have ever read, all while trying to "discretely" woo CMT with my apparent loyalty to the station...:

26 May 09

I need Jon and Kate + 8 to kiss and make up. I am sad. Thankfully to get me out of my funk all I have to do is think about how much I love CMT. 

AKA - I am a compassionate human who takes pity on parents with exorbitant amounts of children, and I love CMT... what?! Super related stuff here...

12 May 09 

socks are soaked from walking through the soaked grass and had on 3 layers to open the gym at 5:45 am..what season are we in.... seriously?

AKA - I have a campus job therefore I am super hard working and I get up early / let's see how many times I can say soaked in a sentence.

  

2 Apr 09

with all the fog I feel like I am in Twilight, minus my hot vampire of course. 

AKA - I'm clever because I am blending a pop culture phenomenon with the weather all while letting you know - Hey, I'm not held back by a real boyfriend, therefore I'm very willing to relocate to Nashville. 

30 Mar 09

watching the tail end of one tree hill and wishing peyton and lucas would have a cute scene together :)

AKA - I have no love life and therefore live vicariously through CW soap operas. Oh! And - CW is sort of like CMT if you take away the "W" and add a "MT". Boom - Related.

 

30 Mar 09 

waiting for the live oak meeting to start and wishing I was back on the beach with no worries....

AKA - I'm in the student PR agency and I attend important meetings that require me to worry because I care. CMT - Seriously. HIRE ME.  

  

30 Mar 09 

missing the Greek marathon because I am sitting in class..... ugh.....

AKA - I don't skip class. I just tweet through it... CMT PLEASEEEEEE........

  

29 Mar 09 

watching high school musical and missing the nostalgic days of high school when none of that stuff actually happened to me 

AKA - I am super musical just like you, CMT, and even though I was always in the ensemble, I can sing and dance with jazz hands. Talk about well-rounded. 

29 Mar 09 

I want my hair to grow out.... I wish hair grew faster. 

AKA - No idea. None. I must have blacked out.

Who am I?!?! And why did I think any of that was worth broadcasting.....The only tweet I am proud of is this one:

29 Mar 09

Nashville.... it's really good to finally meet you.

Okay.. that was semi-normal and relative.... At this point I clearly wooed CMT with my previous posts since I was in Nashville about to start my internship. Maybe after this is when I get cool?....

Nope -  

 

1 Jun 09

why am I resisting sleep... I cannot keep my eyes open but something in me does not want to slip into tomorrow yet. please let me dream. 

AKA - Attempting to be poetic and failing. #WTFamItalkingabout?

 UGH - DELETE. MAKE IT GO AWAY....

I think what we can deduce from this is that I am a long-winded human who needs more than 140 characters to sound remotely intelligent and interesting.

And this my friends, is why I don't tweet. 

Wake Up Call

I'm the fat ass. E's the penguin.

It started with a simple request - "Hey E, when you get up to study will you call me and make sure I get up to work out?" It is now a morning routine (until she passes her test like rock star, and then I'm going to have to recruit another early bird... any takers?).

I asked this of her because I find a human has the ability to hold me far more accountable than an alarm clock which can easily be thrown out of its socket, across the room. And while in that moment, I want to throw my phone, I wouldn't dare because I have an unhealthy obsession with my phone and I respect my friend on the other end of the line who is simply doing what I asked. So, I pick up each morning, and I drag myself out of bed because she screams at me until I do - my personal Jillian Michaels.

After going through the motions of cursing the pizza I ate the night before, taking the elevator down to the first floor (super counterproductive, I realize) - and positioning myself like a hamster on a wheel, I get moving, and I never regret it. It is always the right thing to do, it never fails to make me feel better, to clear my head, to reposition my attitude. It is like dragging myself through the mud only to find a beautiful garden on the other side. That garden is the demise of my ass fat.

For me, working out has always been a love / hate relationship. Despite my efforts to wish it otherwise, calories do count, and while peanut butter has its own unique high, it certainly isn't burning fat. And since I choose food over juice and cayan pepper to keep from becoming a hangry human (hungry + angry = hangry), exercise will always be a part of my life and I'm going to have to wake up to do it.

This dynamic is true of a lot of things in life. Often the things that are best for us are the hardest to start, the most challenging to endure and yet the most rewarding to see through. But I can say from experience, it is much easier to face those things head-on when you have someone behind you cheering you on.

Sometimes we all just need a wake up call. Someone to be with us, to hold us accountable and support us. It's these little moments that make our hands feel held as we drag ourselves through the day or in this case, simply out of bed. It is often the things that force us to wake up, literally or figuratively, that allow us to grow and discover our true purpose. And it is the people who help us to be wide awake, as much as we might protest, that are the ones worth holding on to.

I am grateful for my sweet morning wake up calls - for the calories burned, the endorphins stirred, but mostly for the friend on the other end of the line reminding me I'm not alone.

Let's "cheers it up." The Bachelor is back!

Youse about to be ROSED.

I must admit I was embarrassingly excited to sit down on the couch and begin yet another Bachelor journey full of cat fights, tears, exotic adventures, and the show's most imperative player - tequila. I know some of you instead watched that big football game thing that was happening... from what I heard of the game, most of these women were like Notre Dame - a hot mess. And I thoroughly enjoyed watching semi-psychotic poodles attempt to make a good impression on our Bachelor Sean, who I may affectionately refer to as Mr. Perfect / Must Therefore Have a Small Penis.

So let's take a moment to talk a little bit more about our Dallas "Hunk" Sean Lowe. Sean has a wonderful life is Dallas full of lifting weights, running toward mirrors, lifting weights, using high technology iPads, lifting weights, having hammock and playhouse time with babies, and of course recovering from his physically exhausting journey (enter in clip of him lifting weights to symbolize the exhaustion) with Emily - when in a moment, his "beautiful life was gone." But then he got it back once he had a heart to heart with pop and then saw himself in the mirror lifting weights and realized... "wait, yep. Life is still beautiful."

I'm man enough to have a fruity drink sit on my small balls

To prepare for his journey Sean likes to watch couples take their wedding photos wave-side, and skip rocks while thinking about how he will protect his woman, even if that means he has to scale rock cliffs for her like the Ken Doll version of spider man. He also likes to have overly-scripted sit-downs with Emily's other reject, Arie. After "Cheersing it up" (that's a new one...) Sean confesses it was healthy for him to see Arie search out real estate down Emily's throat all season, and that he is now in a better place to hand out his own roses.  Then suddenly it got real weird... following man-to-man kissing lessons and some awkward moments of flamboyancy, I was partly concerned Arie was attempting to use his inner gay child to pull a Tonya Harding and take Sean's place as the Bachelor...Why is Arie here... ? And where is THE Chris Harrison? Bring my normal overly gesticulated introduction back please....

Still got a rose... WHAT?

And then the real drama begins. We start to meet the women.. and their dogs. Note to self - per-requisite to either have a dog, look like a dog, or act like a dog while under the influence of alcohol in order to be cast on the show.

Sean gets out of the limo and looks wide-eyed and shell shocked... dude did you blackout and forget what Chris Harrison looks like? Get it together.

The limos pull up and we meet a slew of very diverse interesting women who:

1. Learn new languages (with post-it notes and by watching Dora the Explorer)
2. Read best-selling novels (50 Shades of Grey)
3. Love photography (of themselves while they stretch inappropriately)
4. Are designers (of bridal gowns that they sit around the house wearing)
5. Are environmental advocates (not to be confused with nerd-advocates because she doesn't support those...)

Kelly - don't sing. please don't sing... DAMN IT. You sang.

6. Who use super trendy words in everyday speech (such as holy Toledo!)
7. Are professional (organizers?! what does this even mean?! Sign. Me. Up.)
8. Are active (ly searching for a boyfriend)
9. Are interested in advertising (themselves)
10. Look like Disney princesses (Mulan and a cracked out Cinderella)
11. Enjoy haircare (wear weaves)
12. Are barefoot and heart centered (on themselves)
13. Are open to falling (literally, on the ground, while trying to do cart wheels in a gown...)
14. Who are musical (ly challenged - more specifically Kelly from Nashville - you made me cringe. You are from music city... TRY HARDER to represent...)

Ashley H - the Tranny MJ hot mess

15. Are in touch with their masculine side (aka, might be a tranny - specifically Ashley H - why do you talk and kind of look like Michael Jackson?)
16. Are super family oriented (aka my mother is obsessed with you and my father will rip off your balls if you hurt me)
17. Are familiar to the Bachelor Mansion (Paige - stay off the Ritalin or GO HOME. You think she would have learned from Bachelor Pad that sometimes less is more). 
 
Which brings me to Kacie B from Fish Stick's season (Ben) - She comes back and the girls are all fussy and "mean muggin" about it. Desiree: "She had her chance with Ben - what makes her think this will work with Sean?!" Well Des, maybe the fact they are two totally different people....pop one less crazy pill and get over it. I've seen her out with Ty in Nashville so I don't think she wins. Lock it up, lady.

Sean: Now let's all scream together to awaken our awesome energies because I am about to be bad ass, break the rules and pass out roses like bead necklaces at Mardi Gras. Show me your boobs.. um I mean "good energy" and boom. Rosed.

Mulan

There were some girls I actually did like, so we will see how that unfolds. And poor Sarah - "its easier just to date a girl with two arms - but I want someone other than my dog to share my life with.. but I don't think with one arm, I deserve love," Bless. Her. Heart. Dear Sarah - You are missing an arm - girlfriend, you deserve a parade, a make a wish, a robot maid fo' free. And you're about to get a rose, so calm it right down. Mr. Perfect can't NOT give a rose to a one-armed chick on the first night...I mean get real - you had this in the bag for the same reasons Mulan did.

You know how the rest goes down friends. Panic attacks ensue. The claws come out. The alcohol continues to rain from the sky. Awkward moments of silence, first impressions, and tears. Lot's of tears - "I didnt think it would be so hard, I didn't think of it this way until being here - fighting for a guy is so tough, I don't do this!" Dear Taryn. You don't do this? Have you not seen this show before? Did you think you were applying for The Biggest Loser? If so, you're winning. Stop drinking and hydrate with a water source other than your eye sockets.

And this line pretty much sum's up the remainder of the show: "I am so scared for him right now," followed by Sean saying "I brought a rape whistle in case I'm in trouble."

Yes, the first set of roses were handed out to the "women" - some that were semi-normal choices and made complete sense. Others that were clearly hand-selected by the producers for drama - oh Tierra - I hate you already. And now is when the real fun begins - when we start to invest in these relationships and watch the magical mess unfold. 

Until next week, friends :)

Windows

They say when God closes a door, he opens a window.

Most of the time the "they say" sentiments I hear in everyday life, communicated sincerely as coping mechanisms through trials and confusing moments, are sadly received as absolute cliches, over spoken, and often hard to not classify absolute crap. "It happens when you least expect it" is my favorite... what does that even mean?! The control freak in me wants to train myself to be non-expectant simply so I can be "not expecting" the thing I desire, and then trick the universe into giving me what I am actually expecting all along. I realize it doesn't work this way, but in my mind, it all makes perfect sense.

But I do believe this one to be true. As someone who has watched doors close in life, some very slowly, inching toward the frame discretely over time, and others more abruptly, slamming shut with a burst of wind in its path, I have come to find neither are particularly easy and both take processing. Even when trying with all my might to resist or even pry the door back open, in hindsight the door has admittedly shut for a reason. And in the darkness of the threshold of change, loss, disappointment or discouragement is often when I have seen the light in my life shine the brightest.

So if you are standing face to face with a shut door today, take a step back and sit in its darkness for a moment. Pound its surface if you have to, twist the knob, take the time to stare it down, memorize its nooks and crannies, and accept its scars.

But remember through it all that the windows are worth waiting for, being patient for, and praying for. The windows are why we wake up in the morning. And the windows will open. They always do.

Lucky 13

New Years Eve front row downtown Music City!

Well here we are - in the words of my idol Celine Dion via her most magical Christmas album - another year has gone by (and if you didn't have that musical snack on repeat since Halloween, shame on you). Another Christmas season passed, another anticipatory (and unexpectedly VIP) New Years Eve countdown commenced and another delicious cheese ball (or five) consumed. And now it's January.

I have a love / hate relationship with January, minus the love part. We're typically not friends because January can be a real bummer, and well, quite frankly I just don't like bummers. In January, when it snows, it does not mean Santa is peeing magical snowflakes. It means mother nature is icing over my heart. When cookies are in the office, it does not mean "EAT ME! Tis the season, your heart will grow three sizes bigger"- it means "back off lady, stop hoarding food or else your ass will grow three sizes bigger." When I'm at my desk pretending I'm auditioning for American Idol, it means my playlist has to regrettably change from my Celine Dion Christmas mix to just - Celine Dion: Greatest Hits (minus the french songs I have trouble lip synching). 

AND despite the Mayan's predictions to the contrary, it also means the world did not actually end and so now there are some things I'm going to have to do, such as:

1. Stop spending money as if the world is going to end
2. Stop drinking wine as if the world is going to end
3. Throw out the packets of moon food my mom gave me "just in case" the world was going to end
4. Get a hair cut - since it's been since June and my ragged split ends are sexy only if the world is coming to an end and I'm running through the rubble in a fancy braid like that chick in the Hunger Games
5. Stop eating everything in sight since the "stock up in the event of world starvation" rationale no longer pertains
6. Continue to pay my exorbitant rent (hence #1)

Stand down. I'm not about to jump out a window. Looking back, I cannot believe how much in my life has happened for the better since January of last year. People, places and things fill each square on my calendar and spark vivid memories of not only what I did, but how much I grew through those experiences. If you had told me then where I would be now, I would have laughed at you, and maybe thrown up a little - in part, to preempt some of those hangovers, but mostly because I am not sure I would have thought I could handle it all.... but I did. And there is a lot of hope in that.

Okay - let's get real - its not like I traveled to the moon, had a sex change or overcame Ebola but in my little snow globe life, let's just say, shit shook up this year. And in the words of Taylor Swift it was happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time - miserable and magical... (oh yeahhAH). (If you don't have THAT musical snack playing on repeat you're also missing out, and I might have to reconsider our friendship). 

I know its all so cliche - a new year brings endless possibility, new beginnings, new hope, fresh start, blah blah blah.... vomit. And if I never have to endure the onslaught of January advertising for match.com followed by weight loss " January Jump Start" bull crap, it will be too soon. But for me, this does spark excitement in the unknown, which helps combat the overwhelming feeling that between the frigid cold and apathy / disgust toward the month of January in general, life sucks.

It is bittersweet and even exciting to tuck that calendar away, in hopes of truly letting go of the bitter and keeping the sweet close to heart. Because with that comes the understanding that I am embarking on a year that I will look back on with the same amazement of how intimately and sometimes mysteriously God works in my life.

And it means I will have accomplished this exciting feat:  My New Years Resolution to participate in a flash mob and somehow get Taylor Swift to see this little gem:



HAPPY NEW YEAR FRIENDS!