The Bachelorette: Bye bye hottie!
Tonight on the Bachelorette, DeAnna heads off to each of the final four’s hometowns to visit and get grilled by the friends and family who will demand to know if she’s going to break their baby’s heart. Fun for all!
First, Jesse in Colorado, where he charms the pants off her (Not literally, GOSH.) and teaches DeAnna to snowboard. He takes her to meet her parents, and Jesse admits to his dad that he’s holding back because of the other guys and he doesn’t want to be hurt. Dad tells him he has to risk to get reward, and Jesse takes that to heart and finally kisses DeAnna during a horse drawn carriage ride.
In Dallas, Texas, Jeremy takes DeAnna on a motorcycle ride, and makes it last as long as possible so he could stay cuddled up with her that way. His parents have passed away, so they bond over the pain of losing a parent, and then she meet his brothers and sister-in-law for dinner. The brothers tell DeAnna she better not hurt their boy, and she swears her intentions are true.
In Seattle, she finds Jason and gets to meet his son, Tyler, who’s completely adorable and makes my ovaries cry. They play in the park, and then DeAnna gets to meet the rest of the family – everyone cries when she leaves, even Tyler, and DeAnna’s maternal instincts are slammed into overdrive and she thinks Jason might be The One.
Then its off to Raleigh, NC, where DeAnna can’t keep her hands off the hottie, Graham. The his mom scares her a little, saying Graham has never committed longer then four weeks, and when she’s alone with him alter he shuts down again and won’t talk to her. Stupid boy.
At the Rose ceremony, everyone is shocked when the first rose goes to Jesse, then one to Jason and Jeremy, as she shows the Hottie to the door. He shouldn’t have shut down that last time, hm? She tells him she was falling for him, but can’t be with someone who won’t open up. So what’s he do? pulls out a letter he wrote her, saying all the things he wanted too but couldn’t but now it’s too little to late. Now, of course, she’s second guessing the decision and worries she’ll never fall in love on National TV and OH YOU POOR THING!
Who will be ousted next week? Will Jesse surprise us all and be the last man standing? Only two more weeks until we find out!
SYTYCD – Elimination and predictions
Er, so I thought I’d written this, and I didn’t! My bad, folks! Why didn’t someone poke me? You could totally do that you know, comment and tell me that I’ve slacked in meeting your Reality TV news needs, and I’ll hop right to it! Comment and tell me I’m pretty and I’ll TOTALLY be your BFF forever. But you know, whatever. *grin*
So, as everyone knows by this point, this years trend (if by ‘trend’ you mean ‘two weeks in a row’) of eliminating couples from SYTYCD continued as Susie and Marquis were eliminated from the competition.
Our bottom six were:
Chelsea Traille, who showed personality and technique with her solo, though she was warned she needed to step it up.
Comfort Fedoke, who’s been suffering from a shoulder injury and a partner Nigel compares to a tree – but the girl can hiphop like nobodies business, and saves herself.
Susie Garcia, who really was the weakest of the girls in the top 20. She landed in the bottom three after a Salsa, which she declares is her style, until she was slammed for it being boring and she declared STREET salsa to be different. Naturally. Her solo was more of the STREET salsa, and rather boring. Bye bye Susie.
Thayne Jasperson was one of three contemporary dancers in the bottom three this week, and his solo was strong enough to keep him in the competition.
Chris Jarosz was the favorite of everyone to get eliminated, but it was not to be as they decided he was less tree like this week – and even Cat Deely held up a sign that “Chris is not a tree” to help them remember, so he squeeks by.
Marquis Cunningham had an awesome solo though it was too trick heavy and less with the actual feeling and dancing. As such, he joins Susie in leaving us this week.
So who’s next to go? Not sure, but I do hope for some stronger dances this week then last. The standouts stand out, and the others are just hoping for enough votes, so I am pulling for some awesome upsets this week. Who do you think will be next on the chopping block if they don’t score some awesome choreographers?
Downsizing!
It’s all the rage, nowdays. Even for the pup. Remember her previous living arrangement box?
Well, seems she decided it was too big. All that decorating was just taking TOO MUCH TIME. So she downsized.
Now if only she had enough room to put a shirt on too…
[OH NOZ!
I know I’m no Annie Libwhatserface the photographer – but it’s a half dressed child! WHAT WOULD HANNA MONTANA AND MULLET DADDY DO?! Oh yeah. Get mega bucks and a magazine cover or 80.
For me, I just made it a ‘friends and family’ picture only so only the freaks I actually know can find it on flickr. Heh. ]
Snippet 002: the pickle jar.
Wake up Writing prompt: Your protagonist is at the grocery store buying basic food items. They pick up a jar of pickles by the lid, the lid comes off and the jar plus pickles end up on the floor. What happens next?
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She was mortified. It happened just like all the books said it would if you were particularly worried about embarrassment: out of the blue, at the most inopportune time, in public. The books also said that embarrassment shouldn’t be a factor, to remain calm and simply do what needed to be done. But those folks clearly weren’t here, right now, standing in a growing puddle of pickle juice.
Her mother had told her, you see, that it’d be much less mortifying if her water broke at the store to break a jar quickly and play it off as an accident, rather than have them realize it was the onset of labor, and have the clerks suddenly panic that she would deliver in the Pickle Aisle as well. What mom forgot was the obviousness of the spreading stain in her white slacks. There’s no way anyone is going to believe that is pickle juice – none at all.
With a sigh, she wrapped her hand under gravid belly, hoping to ease some of the intensified discomfort, just as she heard it over the intercom: Cleanup in aisle 5. It was time. Time to grab the cell phone, time to call in reinforcements, time to waddle her way to the parking lot and then to the hospital, where – in the greatest irony of all – she’ll sign in under her married name.
Vlasic.
Snippet 001: Saboteur.
So, Adri. He’s been posting daily snippets of fiction, whatever strikes his fancy, just in an effort to make sure there are some words written for the day. Now you folks know I tend to have this TEENY TINY HARDLY THERE AT ALL competitive streak, and often say stupid things like I could totally do that. Please note – THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE TIMES.
No, instead, Adri said “You should do this too.” And I said “maybe.”
And then everywhere I randomly browsed the next few days included writing prompts, or stories, or snippets, and I’ve decided that the internet is CLEARLY AGAINST ME and wants me to toss out random words when they come to me. Who am I to go against the WHOLE INTERNETS? It’s obvious that in this instance, The Internets are firmly in Adri’s corner. So, you will get random fiction on a semi-regular basis that is supposed to be every day, but it might be more like ‘whenever Adri’s consistency and straight up awesomeness shames me into an attempt at wrangling words together in a pale representation of his greatness’. Or something.
So all of that to say – here’s a snippet from a random prompt I found on The Internets. I’ll include the prompt at the bottom, so you read first, then say “Adri could have done it…” after. *grin* Please note that little to no editing has been done on said snippets either. Which means loads of tense errors and odd turns of phrase. You’ve been warned. So. Here we go.
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Snippet 001: Saboteur.
The past, yellowed and curled about the edges is shred and flung helpless onto damp cement. The memory once pushed aside, now roused to freshness on a day filled with sunshine, laughter, and an embrace that buffed memory into neon reality.
Careful seeds had been planted with ease on a purple, bedazzled Sidekick. The fast paced rumor mill of gigantic proportions churned the innocent bystanders into a frenzy, hopelessly entangled by wireless half-truths and wicked insinuations tapped out in modern-day Morse Code. Rapid demand fueled the supply of voyeuristic play-by-play, letters tapped in hurried record to be picked apart faster then the ugly prom dress of yesteryear.
A new picture drips from above, seesawing lazily in autumn wind, until it became merely one of the pile, pillowed against brittle red and yellow leaves. Below it, the torn and tattered remains of tuxedo tails and what was once thought of as ruffled perfection to match big hair and bright lipstick. Now, the yellowed memory fades again under the press of fresher agony of tails and top hats, paired with ivory lace and crimson roses.
Purple bedazzled seeds bloomed into the aching bruise of crushed dreams. In the end, only the thumb-cramped saboteur is pleased.
~~~
And here’s the prompt from McSweeney’s 13 Writing Prompts – they’re odd, so they speak to me: Write a scene showing a man and a woman arguing over the man’s friendship with a former girlfriend. Do not mention the girlfriend, the man, the woman, or the argument.
Success, or abject failure – either way, it’s there. The things I do for you, Adri… (grin)
