Horrible Bosses.

Happy Friday!!  Do yourselves a favor this weekend and go see Horrible Bosses.  SO funny!



"I'm a squirter, Dale!"

Have a fabulous weekend!

Jerseylicious.

I have a new favorite tv show.  I know I've brought it up on the blog several times, but I would like to take this opportunity to wax poetic about the train wreck that is Jerseylicious.

Who knew that a reality show about a hair salon in North Jersey could be so delightfully entertaining?

For those of you who are not fortunate to have been bitten by this wonderful little bug of a show, here's a synopsis:

Jerseylicious takes place near Hoboken, New Jersey, at the Gatsby Salon.  The owner, Gayle, and her snobby daughter-manager, Christie, have just remodeled their beloved salon.  Upon doing so, they hire an all new staff, including make-up artists.  They nab Anthony, a veteran in the hair industry.  He and Gayle become BFFs, and Gayle is very sad when "Ant" decides to open up his own salon.  She also hires Tracy and Gigi as hairdressers.  The shiz hits the fan when she gives a make-up artist job to Olivia, Tracy's loathed enemy.  Tracy and Olivia hate each other because Tracy stole Olivia's boyfriend from her.  And then Olivia stole Tracy's boyfriend from her.  And then they stole each other's boyfriends from each other.  It's all very confusing, but they are quite amusing and have oodles of cat fights.

Gayle also hires Alexa as her lead make-up artist, but Alexa has alterior motives because she basically has her own make-up business called the Glam Fairy.  Alexa is a hot pistol and decides to leave the Gatsby because "it's Gayle's way or the highway", even though Alexa is kind of a biotch.  She opens up her own business called The Glam Factory, and I've gotta admit, it's pretty freaking cool.

So, basically, between Tracy and Olivia's cat fights, and Alexa's plan to take over the world a la Pinky and the Brain, this show is a reality masterpiece.

Originally, I was Team Olivia because she's just so darn sweet and cute, and Tracy was just so vicious.

However, I have had a change of heart and find Tracy to be tolerable.

In fact, I'll bet that someday, these two ladies are BFFs. 

Seriously, if you have the Style Channel, please check out this show.  My life has been forever changed because of it.  I am now the proud owner of many animal-print articles of clothing, which I just know is all sorts of appropriate for a teacher.

I go for my five-inch nail tips on Tuesday.  Holla!

Team Lift.

A couple weeks ago, I decided to redecorate our guest bedroom.  Because we moved from a one-bedroom apartment to a two-bedroom house, we were lacking in the furniture and decorations department.  Why I waited so long to do something about this, I have no idea, but as usual, if something gets in my head, I've gotta do it.

Probably because I'm psychotic.

Anyway.

This all started on a Saturday.  I woke up that morning and was on my way to the furniture store, which is a good forty-five minutes from my house.  On my way, though, I passed a Target.  I thought, "Hmmm...do I really want to pay for overpriced furniture and have to deal with deliveries and such when I can just do things cheaply and not have to wait around for other people?"

So, I ended up in Target where I found some very nice furniture.  I ended up purchasing a nightstand that needed some assembling, but I I figured it'd be a way to pass the day. 

I mean, how long can it possibly take to put together a nightstand?

Apparently, a long-ass time. 

Hours, in fact. 

This sucker had more parts than the human body, and at one point, I was so confused that I had to take half of the stupid thing apart.  And then when I was done, the stupid drawer wouldn't work and kept falling apart.

GAH!

Finally, after getting some sort of wood glue that had a warning on it saying something about how California had found that the glue causes cancer (WTF?), I was able to put the stupid drawer together and it stayed put.

Except now I'm afraid to open the drawer.

But whatever.  It still looks good.

By the time everything was finished, I was sweaty, I was sore, and I was in a foul mood.

So what did I do?  I woke up the next morning, went back to Target, and bought the matching bookcase.

And this is where it gets really fun.

Since the bookcase was so heavy, I had a hard time getting it in the cart.  After a few grunts and pushes, I was on my way to check out. 

Except the bookcase was so heavy that the cart started to tip over, so I had to stand in front of the cart and pull it.  Awkward, but I did it.

When I got to the cashier, she asked if I needed help out to the car, but since I'd managed to get around the store just fine, I said no.

But then I got outside, and the stupid ramp thingy outside the store ruined everything.  Next thing I know, I'm standing outside the store with my cart completely tipped over.  The stupid bookcase was too heavy, so I was trying to lift, stuff, kick, shove the stupid bookcase back into the cart.  It was quite easy to get into the car, though, because I just let the cart tip it out.  Brilliant!

I just knew that once I got home, getting the box out of my car, into the house, up the stairs, and into the guest room was gonna SUCK.

I was right.

The package weighed 107 pounds, which is what?  Roughly the size of Angelina Jolie when she's PMSing?  So there I was, dragging Angelina through the house.  I pulled and pushed and shoved the thing up the stairs, and after half an hour, I succeeded.

Which is when I saw this sticker on the box:

Who needs Team Lift when you're on Team Awesome?  By yourself? 





I wasted no time.  I tore open the box and stared, dumbfounded, at the contents spilled all over my floor.

Somebody get me some Cuervo, please.

A couple of shots of tequila later, not only was I singing "La Cucaracha", but I also had a half-assembled bookcase.

Holla!

Somewhere between the Cuervo and passing out on the floor, I finished the damn bookcase.  I have the picture to prove it.

Eat your heart out, Bob Vila!

It's really a lovely bookcase, made all the more special since I put it together myself.  Seriously, you would have thought I cut the trees down, and crafted this entire thing myself.  I'm such a loser.

As I said on Twitter, this project would not have been possible without my hands, my husband's little tool thingy--a Workman?  Craftman?  Toolman?  Something with 'man' in it, alcohol, and REO Speedwagon for providing the music.  Stop judging.

The Bachelorette: Fun on the Overnight Dates.

Ok, after I broke down in tears due to the state of our wonderful nation, The Bachelorette finally came on.  And with that, Ashley gave us like a thirty-minute recap of all that's happened in previous episodes.  As if we'd forgotten or cared.

So, Ashley and her Final Three are in Fiji, a place I've always wanted to go.  For some reason, it's now tainted for me.

Anyway, so Ashley is happily skipping around her little suite when there's a knock on the door.

Who can this be?

Brad, begging her to forgive him for choosing America's Sweetheart, Emily?

Bentley, asking her if she'll bang him just one more time?

No, it's dork breath Ryan.  He starts to tell Ashley the story about how he ended up in Fiji.  Basically, he called Chris B. Harrison and begged him to fly him to Fiji for free, because it's one of the places he has on his Bucket List. 

And voila!  Here he is!  Check that one off the list, Ryguy.

He's talking and talking and talking and talking.

And Ashley is listening and squinting and smiling and mmmm-hmmmming.

Is she listening?  Probably not.  So Ryan tells her that he's here for a couple of days, and he's hoping she'll stop by for a visit.

He also hands her a note.  I believe what it says is, "I like you.  Do you like me?  Check yes or no."

Ryan then starts mumbling to the camera and says something like, "I hope Ashley doesn't have a rash..." and then trails off before beginning a new thought.

Oh, boyfriend!  Of course she has a rash!  Bentley tapped that weeks ago!! 

He then says he hopes that she'll come visit him.  If I were Ashley, I'd totally just pretend this interaction never happened and continue on with my Fiji vacation.  Ryan's a dork, and all he wanted was a free trip out of the deal.  Not that I blame him, but whatevs.  I mean, if I had ever been on this show, I totally would have called Chris B. Harrison up after gettting dumped and beg him to allow me to fly to whatever tropical location they happened to be going.  You'd be dumb not to.

The first date is with Ben.  Ben is such an awkward snorefest.  He never gets excited about anything, and dammit, Ben!  You're in Fiji!  For instance, when Ashley shows him the yacht they'll be traveling on, he's like, "Oh, that's a nice boat.  Yawn." 

Ben then says they're giddy little school children.  "She makes me laugh. Ha ha," he chuckles.

And then Ashley straddles Ben to put on his sunscreen.  I mean, doesn't everyone do this to help someone else put their sunscreen on?  Safety first!

And then they go down on each other in the water with their snorkels on.  Happy fishing! 

After, Ben tells the camera their day was "hysterically perfect", and that we can tell by the way he's beaming.

Funny, Ben looked pretty stoic when he said that.  Weird.  He then says he's going to tell Ashley he loves her tonight, and that he's looking forward to it.

I have a teeth cleaning next week.  I'm looking forward to that, too, Ben.

Then Ashley pulls the "Let's sleep together" card out of her bra, and Ben thinks that would be nice.  He also decides not to tell her he's in love with her.  He gives a reason, but honestly, he mumbled and I have no idea what he said.

I'll take their fantasy suite, though.  Their bedroom opened up into the pool.  Um, yes, please. 

Then ABC cuts to the two of them making love in the pool.  Both scream out, "JOURNEY!" several times in the middle, and Ben picks Ashley up and takes her back to their room.

OH MY GOD, THAT POOL IS AWESOME.

What?  Oh.  Sorry.

Ashley then meets up with Constantine, hopefully after she's had a nice, long shower.  They are getting their kicks on a helicopter, and Constatine's all, "I've always wanted to ride on a helicopter!" And Ashley's like, "WHAT?!  You've never been on a chopper before??"  Um, no, Ashley, he hasn't.  BECAUSE HE'S ONLY BEEN ON THIS SHOW TWICE, UNLIKE YOU.

Then the camera cuts to Ryan, who says the word "waiting" like fifty times.  He's been waiting for Ashley to come knock on his door for several days.  He's waiting to see her again.  He's waiting for Godot.  He's waiting for Tom Petty to sing "The Waiting is the Hardest Part".

Then Constantine and Ashley jump off a waterfall.  Unfortunately, they live. 

At dinner, Ashley accuses Constantine of not wanting to hold her hand or show her affection.  Constantine tells her things come naturally for him in a relationship, but he hasn't been able to do that with her.  Oh, shiz! 

He tells her he has too much respect for her to take her to the fantasy suite because he's not in love with her.  He tells her, "To be honest, this is the end of the road for me."

DAMN!  Now that's some honesty!  So then he hugs her and leaves.  In the middle of dinner.  Dude, at least finish your meal! 

Then Ashley takes the fantasy suite card out of the envelope and reads it silently.  Perhaps she was trying to see if she knew how to read it all by herself, I don't know.

Then Constantine walks back to his place and starts to pack.  I think they should just let him stay there for the remainder of the time.  I mean, they brought Ryan back.

Oh, wait!  Ryan!  How convenient!  Constantine leaves, Ryan returns.  Coincidence?  I think not.

I wonder if Ashley is starting to feel self-conscious that all of these men are willingly leaving her?

First thing the next morning, Ashley takes off to see Ryan.  Ryan orgasms in his shorts upon opening the door.  After cleaning himself off, he takes her outside and has a heart-to-heart with our girl.

Ashley tells Ryan that she's fallen for two guys.  Crestfallen, Ryan asks if she's happy, and then he says, "Oh, Ash.  I'm so happy for you."  Then he starts to sob a little and asks her if he'll ever find "it".

Ashley leaves pretty abruptly, and Ryan tells the camera that his life is missing one thing.  He is missing love, you guys.  His heart is open and accepting.  He will never hold back again.  "It'll happen.  It'll happen.  It'll happen.  *Chuckle* It'll happen."  That's a direct quote.  His intensity is a bit scary to me.

 Then Ashley is waiting for JP.  I can't really describe what she's wearing.  It's a cross between a cowgirl get-up, and a really old dustrag that used to be a shirt in 1972. Also, I could literally see her butt cheeks hanging out of her jean shorts.  It was hawt.

JP REALLY enjoyed groping Ashley's teeny, tween booty whilst they talked in the water.

Then they stripped down and Ashley wrapped her legs around him in the water. 

Question: is it still called dry humping if it's in water?  Yes? No? Whatever it's called, they did it.  Twice. 

That night, Ashley tells JP about all of the stuff that went on in her week.  What's funny is that she tells JP that she and Constantine both decided he should leave.  Really, Trash?  Because that seemed pretty one-sided to me. 

She then whips out the fantasy suite card, this time from underneath her skirt.  JP reads it aloud, stumbling over the word "individual".  JP responds, "Yeah, I'm into that."  And they're off.

They get in the room and Ashley says, "It's like our home."  Really, Ashley?  You think you're going to find a jungle suite in the tropics of New York or Philadelphia?  Good luck.

Then she tells JP that she'll be right back.  She comes in wearing a men's button-down shirt.  I think it was the one Ben left when he slept over, although I can't be sure.  They waste no time testing the bed springs. 

For whatever reason, Ashley still has to have the rose ceremony, even though there are no men to whom she'll stay goodbye.  Chris B. Harrison begins to interview Ashley.  Ashley discloses that what she feels for JP is indescribable.  She says they have a thing for beaches, and that JP makes the moves every time they're on the beach.  Um?  Ok, so the beach makes him horny.  I guess they'd better vacation at the Jersey shore when they get home.

Ashley also tells us that she's still having the rose ceremony because it's the most important one.  I guess she's forgetting about the one that's coming up in the next few weeks. 

Both men accept the roses, and they all live happily ever after in Ashley's short-shorts.

Amen.

I Hate Roofers...and Roofies, but that's a Post for Someone Else to Write.

For over one month now, my peaceful townhouse community has been overtaken by a company full of slobs who are supposedly putting on new roofs and siding to all of the homes.  These men enter our little village every morning at 7:30.  This fact alone makes them horrible people since I AM ON SUMMER VACATION AND WANT TO SLEEP IN.

Ahem.

They usually work a full day, rolling on outta here by four p.m.  What they don't do is pick up after themselves, which means we have nails and other sharp objects rolling all over our road.  Yay.

There have also been times when I have been completely trapped in my own home: their ladders are left right outside my front door (I'm totally going to push them over one of these days), and their stupid tools and supplies are left directly in front of my garage, meaning I can't get out unless I want to drive over said tools and supplies and slice open my tires.  And since none of them apparently speak English when a certain well-dressed firecracker of a woman bounds out of her house spewing obscenities at them, I can't very well just go ask them to move their shit.

Well, actually, I have asked (yelled, screamed, and threw on-the-ground temper tantrums, holding my breath until my face turned blue) them to move their shit, but they usually don't know what I mean until I start kicking said shit.  I have a stubbed toe to prove it (You guys?  Steel hurts).

And where did they decide to park their port-a-potty? 

Right outside my house!

YAY!!!!

YAY!!!

Perhaps what is most disturbing is how many times these men have seen me naked.

One day, they were all hot and bothered on top of my roof whilst listening to the radio station that only plays salsa music.  While I shook and shimmied my way into the shower, I am pretty certain two of these men saw my maracas.  Twice.

At this point, I think they've seen me naked a good dozen times.  They know I like to wear pink underwear on Tuesdays, and that I prefer to wear granny nightgowns to bed (Shout out to Target!  Holla!).

And while you're all probably wondering why I continue to allow these strange men to see me naked, it's because I'm an a-hole who forgets that these men are literally right outside my window, and half the time, they're down the street and working on someone else's house.

Because that's how these guys roll.  Will someone please bring them some Ritalin?  Because these group of workers are the most ADHD men I've ever seen in my life.  They'll work on my house for five minutes, get bored, travel down the road for a bit, and then come back to mine later in the afternoon.

Hellllllo?  Have we ever heard of sticking to one project until it's completely finished?  Can we maintain some sense of order, for the LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY??! 

Right now, as I write this, I am once again trapped inside my house.  I had big plans to invade the local Borders and get my hands on some cheap goods, but my hopes and dreams were trampled on by the stupid saw horse thingy and big-ass saw that are in my drive. 

I have finally resolved, however, how to handle this situation:

Tomorrow, as soon as they arrive, I will be delivering them plates upon plates full of delicious, laxative-laced chocolate chip cookies.

In my nightgown.

Does Anyone Know What Day it is?

You're welcome. 




BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!

The Post Where I Admit I've Hit Rock Bottom.

You guys owe me one.  Once again, I find myself "taking one for the team", and doing the dirty work so you don't have to.  Oh, stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about.

Because I have no life and was a wee bit curious how a woman with the IQ of a five-year-old could get published you kept nagging me to, I decided to just bite it and read Snooki's book, A Shore Thing, to save you the humility of doing it yourselves.

That's love, readers.  That's love.

You know a book is going to cause you to lose IQ points when the author acknolwedges her pets in the front of her book.  In fact, she goes on to call them her "best friends", and writes, "Mew, Roof!  That's "Thank you!" in animal speak."

Did I mention that she named two of her characters after her best friends?

Uh, yeah.

And you know that you will become borderline catatonic halfway through the book when you see that the first chapter is entitled, "Karma's a Bitch, Bitch".

This is Nobel Prize-winning literature right here, ladies and gentlemen.

Anyway, so here's the synopsis: Gia and Bella, BFFs and cousins, decide to vacation at--SURPRISE!--the Jersey Shore for a month.  They move into their rented bungalow in Seaside Heights, all bright-eyed and poufy-tailed, waiting to reel the men in.

Gia scores a successful gig at a tanning salon, and Bella, with her rockin' bod and fake boobies (The Snook never once refers to her characters' chest area as breasts, chests, or even boobs. No, she instead calls them boobies. Like, every other page), becomes a fitness instructor at a local gym.

Gia trips over a shark that washes ashore and becomes famous for "saving" it.  Bella is almost tag-teamed by two BFFS looking for a good time, but unfortunately for them, Bella is a karate master and gives them some swift chops to their groins before they can do the nasty with her.

In the end, the girls end up with the loves of their lives they met just three days earlier before heading back to Brooklyn.  And they all live blissfully ignorant ever after.  The End.

Here were some of my favorite parts and lines of the book:


"It was the ending of a beginning."  Um...?...what?...

"Tonight was all about the three D's: Drinking, Dancing, and Duh."  Duh, indeed.

"Tanning is my second-favorite thing to do with my clothes off."  I'm sure it is!

"She'd have her fun for a while, and then she'd find a sweet, romantic gorilla juicehead to marry." Knight-in-shining-armor, sweet, romantic gorrilla juicehead--same diff.

"Her tits popped out."  Hey!  Didn't she still this from Hemingway??

"Groping between his legs, Gia found a couple of marbles in a tea bag and a mushy worm.  When she touched the worm, it twitched."  Who doesn't like marbles? 

"There's got to be a way to tell the difference between a big guy with normal balls from a big guy who's shriveled."  Aha!  I bet THIS is Victoria's Secret!

"Apparently, she would have preferred to be humped on the first "date" like some drunk slag he scraped off the bathroom floor at Karma."  Um...doesn't every girl?  No?  Just me?

"Except for boobs, I've never asked for anything, God..."  Are you there, God?  It's me, Margaret...

And why not just end it on a real juicy note...

"I'm gonna drop the giraffe in the sand now.  It's gonna get wet."
 "That makes two of us." 

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go read something a little more intellectually stimulating...say, I dunno...Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing?

Part of the Job.

The other day on my Facebook page, I asked my followers if they had any topics they'd like me to address on my blog.  Heather, one of my followers, asked me what the best part about teaching is.

Well, Heather, that's a tough question, especially today.

Teaching is a complicated profession.  Anyone who thinks it's easy has obviously never tried it.  A teacher must be "on" at all times--there is no intermission in which one can take a step back, rehearse their lines one final time, and then get back out there for the second act.  You only get one shot, every day, to get your point across.  Physically, it's a tiring job.  And just like an award-winning actor, a teacher must know his or her lines, and exactly when to say these things, every single minute of every single day.  It is mentally draining.

Anyway, I digress.  Here's my answer:

The best part about my job is the relationships I make with my students--notice how I did not say "the" students, but "my" students.  This is how strongly I feel for them--they are mine.  I'm like a mama bear with her cubs when it comes to the children sitting in my room every day: hurt them and I'll break your face.

I have worked in two school districts in my career.  This past June, I finished my seventh year of teaching.  I can't believe how quickly the time has flown.  My first students are now entering their final year of college.  Some of them became parents before I have.  It's crazy to think about how young they were when I first met them.

My first teaching job was an ideal experience in many ways.  The school district where I taught was tiny: we were lucky to graduate sixty students each year!  Isn't that amazing?  I started out teaching eighth and ninth grade.  I taught in the middle school for three years before moving up to the high school.  Many of the students I had during the first six years of my career had me as an eighth, ninth, tenth, and twelfth grade teacher, and some even had me in eleventh grade if they elected to take AP Literature.  Pretty amazing, huh?  It really was.  It broke my heart to leave them, it really did.  I loved those kids fiercely, and they loved me, too. 

When I applied for my new job, one of the questions the interviewers asked was what my weakness as a teacher was.  The answer I gave them was such a textbook reply, but it was the truth: I care too much.  I get too involved.  I don't know how to turn my mind off and stop worrying about my students when I go home at night.

So, while the best part about my job is interacting with the students, it's also the worst part of my job.  Pretty ironic, huh?  When you become attached to someone, it usually means you love and care for them.  When you have five classes of at least twenty students per day, that's a lot of love, and a whole mess of worry.

I cannot tell you how many funerals of students I've had to attend.  I've lost them to cancer, car accidents, and now, drug overdoses.

Yesterday, I logged into Facebook and noticed a former student's status.  She had "RIP" and then a girl's first name after.  The first name made me catch my breath because it happened to be the name of another former student.  Since it was a somewhat unique name, I clicked on the status and prayed that she meant someone else (isn't that terrible?). 

Unfortunately, it was my former student who had passed away.

Being so far from home, many of my connections are maintained on Facebook, so I asked her to please e-mail me and let me know what happened.  I was shocked at her reply.

My former student died of a heroin overdose.  She had just turned twenty years old. 

This student had always been a handful.  I had her in my first eighth grade class, and for the first two months of school, all she did was sit in the back of the classroom and scowl at me.  She talked to her friends the entire time.  She would not listen.  She did absolutely no homework.

After the first five weeks of school, she was assigned a mandatory study hall with me, where she was forced to do her work and actually engage in conversation.  It wasn't long until I had her smiling, and then laughing, and then passing my class. 

For whatever reason, this student latched on to me.  I had her again in ninth grade, and then her senior year.  Right before she graduated, one of her other teachers handed me a note that my student was assigned to write.  The assignment was to write to someone and thank them for positively impacting the studen'ts life. 

She chose to write to me.

Yesterday, after hearing the news, the first thing I did was go up to my room and dig the letter out of the container where I keep notes and letters people have given me through the years.  In the letter, she thanked me for being a positive role model, for showing her that fighting wasn't the only way out of a situation, and for making her realizie that she was smart and could do whatever she wanted in life.

I guess it's that last part that really got to me--that I had taught her she could do anything, and that she chose to use a dangerous drug.  I don't know if she was an addict--perhaps it was her first time--but the point is, she made the wrong choice.  I think she was probably far too young to grasp the fragility of life, and I am certain that she had yet to realize that our decisions impact not just ourselves, but so many others.

In many ways, my student had a very rough life.  The fact that she even finished high school surprised a lot of people.  I wanted so badly for her to rise above all of the chaos and have a good life for herself.  Now that she's gone, I grieve for the life that was wasted.  I am angry at her, too, but I'm sure that will subside with time. 

Everyone always says that there is no more admirable profession than teaching.  That may be true, but it's also exhausting: physically, mentally, but most of all, emotionally. 

Today, I am tired. 

Bachelorette Recap: Hometown Dates.

Last night, Ashley went home with all of her men to meet their wonderful families.  Barf.  The show opened with Ashley in her hometown of Philadelphia.  She opens up the door and walks into a gorgeous apartment.  Since I lived in Philadelphia, I can tell you that in order to live where Ashley does, one would need to have lots and lots of money.  I mean, I know dentists make a lot, but she's a student.  Where the hell was the Easy Mac and Ramen Noodles?  Anyway.  Then Ash sits at her counter and sorts through her mail for what seems like ten minutes.  She lets a little dog out of her suitcase.  Is that safe?  I don't know.

Then she begins to recap the entire season for us.  Dude, it was boring enough the first time, but the second?  It was even worse!  Aye carumba!

The first town she visits is Constantine's.  C. lives in Georgia.  He looks like a darker, less-good looking version of Ryan Gosling.  I think he's really not that into Ashley, but what the hell do I know? 

He took her to his family's restaurant, where they proceeded to make a pizza.  Lots of cheese, pun intended.  Then he took her to his family's home, and in the middle of dinner, C's mom takes Ashley aside.  It was kind of an odd time to have a "chat", but whatevs.  She basically wants her son to stay by her side for all time, and wanted to know if Ashley would be willing to move for him.  Ashley said yes, and Mama was happy.  This should really raise some red flags because while you want your man to love his mama, you don't want him to love her TOO much. 

The family is sitting quietly on the couch, just chilling out.  Suddenly, the doorbell rings and in comes like five hundred people: every single member of Constantine's family.  The entire family, minus the elderly grandma, started doing some Greek dancing.  Then money was flying all over the place.  It was awesome, and I would totally love to come over and dance with that family any time.  The date ends when C's mom tells the camera that she can tell it means something to him because he brought her home.  Um, lady?  It's part of the show.  He didn't choose that.  Ashley and Constantine share a sappy moment on his front lawn, then they kiss and the whole family screams. 

Yay.

Next up is Ames.  I was playing Words with Friends on my iPhone when they introduced Ames' hometown, so I don't know where he lives.  Sorry if you're disappointed.  My suspicions were confirmed when I saw Ames' family and house.  Yes, he's very rich, and they have a huge-ass indoor pool. 

Ames' sister pulls Ashley aside and tells her Ames is smitten with her.  She wants to know how Ashley feels about him.  Basically, Ashley tells her that she's just not into him but in a nice way, saying that this relationship is progressing slower than the others. 

I have to tell you that if I were on this show, I would be all over Ames.  I know some people think he's odd-looking, but I think he's cute.  I like how smart and cultured he is.  He's no fool, and Mama appreciates that. 

Ames then takes Ashley on a romantic picnic.  Ames reveals that he was unpopular at boarding school (weren't we all?  I know I was at MY boarding school), but it made him appreciate life more. He then starts to talk on an intellectual level, and Ashley looks dazed and confused, but they make out anyway.  Ashley's right boob almost falls out; that was exciting.

 Suddenly, they're on a horse and buggy ride.  Ames admits to the cameras he's in love.  Ashley admits this was exactly what she was looking for, which is precisely why she'll end up throwing him under the bus later on in this episode.

Next we move to California to meet Ben and his family.  I'm sorry, but Ben is a complete bore to me.  Everyone on Twitter thinks he's so sexy, and apparently, so does Ashley.  The dude is a complete snorefest!  The only redeeming quality about him is that he has his own winery.  Hello?!  Free wine forever!  Ben must be another rich boy, because this winery is HUGE. 

It was when Ben and Ashley were having their heart-to-heart that I started to nod off.  I woke up suddenly, and realized that all of the people on this season are FAR TOO SMART TO BE ON A REALITY TELEVISION SHOW.  SERIOUSLY, PEOPLE.  FIND LOVE THE GOOD, OLD FASHIONED WAY AND MAKE ROOM FOR THE TRAIN WRECKS.

Dammit, ABC!  The train wrecks!  Where are they?!

I'm telling you right now that if Bentley isn't the Bachelor and Emily isn't the Bachelorette next year, I will break up with this show.

Ok, I'm totally lying, but I'll be really ticked if ABC fails to deliver. 

The men, and even Trashley, are far too normal for this show.  Therefore, it sucks.  You cannot have a successful dating show if there is no drama, and unfortunately, drama left when Bentley said, "It should have been Emily."  Damn right, B-ster.

Anyway, Ben is boring and so are his mom and sister.  I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but they are.  They are so monotone.  Try some inflection for a change, Ben's fam.

I will say that I did tear up when Ben started to tell his mom how he should have been there more after his dad died.  And then when Ben was talking to the camera, he got all teary, and then I REALLY started crying.

And then I felt bad for saying the family was boring and monotone.

I'm sorry, Ben's family. 

Then JP and his dimples met us on Long Island.  I am so sick of those dimples.  Ashley seems to like them, though, because she couldn't stop kissing him.  She's totally into him.  So, he does what anyone does on a date in 2011: he takes her roller skating.  WTF??  Who roller skates anymore?  That was SO 1984.  I mean, I used to roller skate in my parents' kitchen when I was 4, and that was in 198 a long time ago.

Basically, instead of roller skating, they do what everyone else did in 1984 and just make out under the disco ball.  When JP falls, Ashley goes to rescue him and tells him it was a "great fall" and then kisses him.  Yawn.

Ashley meets JP's parents, and like all of the other families, she falls in love with them.  JP's mom confronts him and asks if he's in love.  He tells her he's "on that road".  Then Mama talks to Ashley, and she tells her that she doesn't want to see JP get his heart broken again.  While Mama is Trash-talking, JP talks to his bro about how much he likes her.  Then his mom reveals JP's bar mitzvah picture, and I swear to God, I thought it was Kirk Cameron.  It was surreal.  It also give him a few extra points in my book, since I loved Growing Pains when I was little.

Ok, so finally, we get to the rose ceremony, and Ashley lets Ames go, just as I predicted.  It's funny how the only guy I found not boring was the one Ashley thought was.  Ames was torn up, and my heart went out to him.  Don't worry, Ames.  Your rose will come. 

All in all, it was another boring episode.  Someone from Ashley's past supposedly shows up next week.  This show is so dumb that it'll probably be her childhood dentist who inspired her to become one herself. 

I don't know how much longer I can do this.

Snore.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig.

As they say, all good things must come to an end, and before I knew it, our spectacular vacation was over.  On Sunday, we went to the Cairo Museum, where we saw a room chock full of mummies and even King Tut's headpiece.  Freaking awesome.  I don't have any pictures of that experience, though, because you are not allowed to bring a camera into the museum.  Boo!

Monday was our anniversary, so we decided to celebrate it in style by going to the second largest shopping mall in the Middle East, CityStars.  This place was amazing!  It had six floors, an amusement park, and every American eatery imaginable, even On the Border!  My husband was jonesing for McDonald's, and I was SO tempted to get the McFalafel (not even kidding), but I went with the chicken sandwich because by that point, I was falafeled out. 

As soon as we got back, we immediately went up to the rooftop pool to do some swimming and sunbathing.  That night, my husband took me to a romantic dinner overlooking the pyramids for our first anniversary.  It was such a nice evening.  He even surprised me with two dozen roses when we got back to the hotel!

The next morning, we were flying out early.  Once again, because my husband's job sucks, he was going one way, and I was going another.  We said goodbye, and I watched him get on his plane while I waited for mine.

And waited.

And waited.

My plane ended up getting delayed by almost two hours.  I was freaking out, thinking I was going to get stuck in Egypt or miss my connecting flight in Frankfurt.  Finally, they allowed us to board.

I was seated by a woman, a doctor from Cambodia (I was eavesdropping by reading the papers she was reading--what? I was just curious).  I didn't mind this woman until after she ate the hideous lunch they served (I refused).  After she ate, she was making all of these weird mouth noises and it made me angry.

There were two dudes on the other side of me.  The one directly beside me was some young guy who liked to text.  I know this because he did it even after the flight attendant told us to turn our cell phones off.

I am a big stickler on the rules of flying, mostly because I don't want to be detained somewhere, or crash and burn. 

As we started to jet down the runway, I turned to him and said, "If you don't turn that thing off right now, we're going to have big problems."  He must have seen the fire in my eyes, because he obeyed. 

But then?

THREE EFFING CELL PHONES WENT OFF!!

Are you kidding me?  I was all for throwing these people from mid-air, but instead, the flight attendants reprimanded them.

I got to Frankfurt in plenty of time for my flight, so I did a little light shopping and grabbed some lunch.  The food was getting better and better the closer I got to the States--hurrah!

Nothing remotely exciting went on in Frankfurt, and we boarded the plane on time (miracles never cease!).

This flight was awesome because I was in an exit row and had all the room in the world to stretch my legs.  I was REALLY kicking myself for trying to be mature for once and not getting a Pillow Pet for my trip (Dear Santa, Please bring me a ladybug Pillow Pet.  I've been good all year.  XOXO). 

My next stop was Washington, DC, where I had to go through Customs.  After going through the line, we were supposed to grab our luggage and re-check it, only mine wasn't there.  I really didn't think about it too much, though, because the dude in Cairo had put the little ticket on it that gave every single stop, including my destination.  I just assumed the TSA guys sent it straight to the next plane I'd be on.

This is where I'd like to disclose that I did two very stupid things: I packed my camera (the one and only place where our pictures were stored), and all of our cool souvenirs.  Remember this because we'll get back to it.

After going through security AGAIN and scarfing down some Wendy's, I was all set to board my final flight--Hallelujah!

When we landed, I immediately went to the luggage carousel to pick up my suitcase.

I waited.

I waited.

I waited.

I stewed.

I waited.

My suitcase never arrived.

I had visions of it riding on a camel and taking its own adventures in Cairo, or eating those freaking AWESOME Nutella-esque bars I found in Frankfurt.

I was not effing happy.

Not only was I jet-lagged, but it was midnight, I still had an hour-and-a-half drive ahead of me, my mom was making me call her as soon as I pulled into the garage (did I tell you she made me call her every single day of my trip because I'm five?  Yeah, that was pleasant), and now I didn't have my freaking luggage?

HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO WOW MY FACEBOOK FRIENDS IF I DIDN'T HAVE ANY PICTURES OF MY TRIP TO SHOW THEM AS SOON AS I GOT HOME?????????

???????????????

I filled out the little claim ticket and prayed to Baby Jesus that my luggage would be found.

The next day, when their website was still telling me they had yet to find my suitcase, I called the airline directly.

A man who spoke very little English told me that the bag had gotten held up in DC, and that it'd be flying in on the 1:20 flight.

HURRAH!  My luggage has been found!

1:20 rolled around and still no one called to tell me the luggage was found and was being shipped to the house.

So I called the airline AGAIN, and they told me it was now on a flight to my home city.

This bag was flying more than I was!

The person also told me that the bag would be delivered by the delivery service directly to my house.

But this bitch waits for no one, not even a suitcase, so she (I) took matters into her (my) own hands and drove to the stinking airport.

And then the flight was delayed.  Indefinitely.

Of course it was.

So, more waiting, and then finally, out of nowhere, the stinking plane was there!  No warning whatsoever, no update--just everyone started filtering off the plane! 

I ran down to the luggage carousel, and because God thinks it's hysterical to make me wait, He made sure my suitcase was the last one on the belt.

I grabbed that baby and took off as fast as I could.  As soon as I got home, I uploaded the photos onto Facebook, admired all of my new goodies, and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

It was good to be home.

More Egypt Pics.

Here are some more pics of our trip.  I have one more post planned for Monday, and then it's back to business as usual!  Enjoy, and Happy Friday!

View of the Nile River and Cairo from our balcony

Hookah time!  We tried the apple.  It was good.

We took a sunset dinner cruise on the Nile, just the two of us!

A blurry picture of our hotel from the river

Hotel lobby

Our hotel suite

Starbucks in Giza!  Holla!

Rooftop pool.  I could've lived up here!

Cairo at night

National Democratic Party building, which the protesters torched during the revolution.  They want the building to remain in order to remind the next leader what will happen if they aren't true to their country.

The Pyramids.

Once I finally escaped the horrors of my flight, my husband and I decided to take it easy the next day.  We slept in until almost noon, had a HUGE Egyptian breakfast on our balcony, and spent the rest of the day swimming in the rooftop pool.  Since the tourist industry is so dismal in Egypt right now, we were able to stay at a kick-butt hotel that we normally would not be able to afford.  Honestly, if you have the means and the time, I urge you to visit Egypt immediately!  You will not regret it!

Anyway.

On Saturday, we woke up early to meet our driver and guide to go to the Great Pyramids of Giza.  Giza is very close to Cairo, so it only took us about thirty minutes to arrive at the pyramids.  I had always assumed that the pyramids were in the desert, but no.  At one point, we were stopped at an intersection and the guide told us to look to our left, and there they were!  Holy crap!  I will never forget that moment. 

Once you arrive at the pyramids, you have to pay an entrance fee.  If you get there early enough, you can also pay an extra fee to actually crawl through one of the pyramids to get to the burial chamber.  They only allow 150 people to do this per day, so we wanted to get there right as they opened in order to secure our spot. 

After purchasing our tickets, the guide gave us a little tour before sending us on our way into the Great Pyramid.  We had to hand over our camera to him because you are not allowed to bring one inside.  Before we went in, he said, "Crawling through the pyramid is hard work.  If you are claustrophobic or not physically fit, I do not recommend going inside."

Entrance to the scary-ass Great Pyramid

Hubs and I just looked at each other with fear and trepidation in our eyes.  It just so happens that Hubs hates tight places, and I am as in shape as a ninety-year-old woman with one lung and a wicked case of osteoporosis. 

In essence, we were screwed.

So we climbed up into the entranceway where we had the following conversation:

Me: You know we are going to die in there.

Hubs: I know.

Me: If I die, just get me to the burial chamber.  I think I've earned being laid to rest like an ancient pharaoh.

Hubs: Ok.

Me: Also, I want you to know that it's not ok for you to find someone else.  You will never find someone who is good enough for you. It's only me, ok?  Continue on with your life, but mourn me forever.  Also, I'll never let go, Jack.

Hubs: Who the hell is Jack?

Me: I'm quoting Titanic.  I thought it was appropriate.

We clung to each other for a few precious moments, crying and shaking, not knowing if this was the last embrace we'd ever have. 

"Are you ready?" Hubs asked.

"I won't go gently into that good night.  Let's get the eff on with this," I said.  I was shocked and impressed with myself for staying so eloquent and classy, even while staring Death in the eyes.

Hubs pushed me in front of him and said, "You go first." 

It wasn't until we were safely in our hotel that night when I realized how effed up that was. "You made me go in first!!  You are such a chicken!" I accused him.  And then the Cowardly Lion said, "Well, at least I went in!"

My knight in shining armor wears aluminum foil.

(Love you, Hubs!)

Anyway, so we walk in and everything is fine and dandy.  We had lots of room and were walking upright. 

Then we had to climb up this tiny ladder and begin the actual ascent.  Basically, we were crouched over and climbing up a ladder that had been secured to the stones.  Other than being hot and a little strenuous, it really wasn't bad at all. 

Halfway through, I was like, "Bring it on, gods and Pharoahs!" I felt like Indiana Jones, minus the cool hat.

I really need to get me one of those hats, btw.

Once in the burial chamber, we rejoiced!  We had made it!  We didn't die!  Since we were the only ones in there (tres spooky!), I demanded Hubs kiss me.  There aren't too many people who can say they've kissed their spouse in the burial chamber of the Great Pyramid, and I think that's pretty freaking cool. 

Also, the acoustics in that place are amazing.  I was this close to busting out "Hey Ya!" by Outkast, but I didn't want to press my luck and get on anyone's bad side.  The burial chamber itself was pretty anticlimactic.  It was just this room with nothing written on the walls, and a stone box on the one side where the pharoah used to lie.

We climbed back out of the pyramid, and the guide gave us a backhanded compliment when he said, "Wow, that didn't take long.  You're more fit than I thought."

HOLLA!

We then walked up to the third pyramid, where we found some peeps trying to offer us camel rides.

I figured, "When in Rome...er, Egypt..." and we got on and got our pictures taken.  So freaking awesome.

Oh, and let me just add that camels get you REALLY high up in the air.  I wasn't scared until the thing was trying to lie down and then I freaked the eff out and screeched a bit.  I jumped off of that sucker as quickly as I could.  I also named my camel Frankie, in case you were curious.

Then we saw the Sphinx, who's really just a small little guy.  What a cutie!

After, we went to Memphis, Egypt, which was the ancient capital of the country.  We saw some cool statues of Ramses II. 

Cool statue of Ramses II

Then we went to the step pyramid in Saqqarah.  This was just ok.  By that time, it was freaking hot and I was tired and hungry.  And probably a little grumpy.  I wanted to be poolside with a drink in one hand and a handful of hummus in the other.

Step Pyramid in Saqqarah

When we finally got back to the hotel, we could not stop looking at the amazing pictures we had taken that day, and in bed that night, I couldn't help but reflect on a lesson I've learned several times before: life is about taking chances.  Sometimes they're stupid, sometimes they're dangerous, but sometimes they are beautiful.

That was a beautiful day.

De Plane.

The worst thing about traveling to faraway lands is actually getting there (and back). I really don't mind flying as long as we don't crash and burn and die fiery deaths, but when you're stuck on a plane for nine hours en route to Frankfurt, Germany, it really does start to take its toll.


I knew it wasn't going to be a fun flight when I was stuck in the middle seat, in between two guys. The guy who had the window seat will now be referred to as Adam Levine. Unfortunately, he was not as sexy as Adam, but he had the same 'do and the same build. The other guy, the one with the aisle seat, really impressed me at first because I could tell the dude reads more than I do. I have NEVER met someone who reads more than I do. Kudos, to you, Aisle Dude.
Which is how I referred to him up until he started to reveal another of his habits.
He farted. THE WHOLE TRIP.

So, I had Adam Levine on my left and Smelly Fartyhausen on my right, neither of whom would give me a damn arm rest. How very relaxing.
Did I mention we were delayed an hour? No? We were.


Anyway.


When I wasn't being knocked unconscious by noxious fumes, I was reading and just generally minding my own business. After they served us the same food that must be given to prison inmates, the lights were dimmed and we all settled down for a little rest and relaxation.


Which is precisely the time the toddler across the plane from me started to scream.


I had popped two Dramamine directly after we ate, so I waited patiently for it to take me to Dream Land.

And I was almost there until Terror Toddler started to scream even louder.

Usually, I am very sympathetic to parents on planes. If my kid started freaking the eff out (which we all know will someday happen since they would have Mrs. Drama Queen herself as a mother), I would be mortified. MORTIFIED. I would do everything in my power to ensure my baby stopped screaming. For instance, I would pick it up and hold it, not keep it in the little bassinet thingy the flight attendant made for it. If that didn't work, I'd try walking with it to the back of the plane, out of people's way. And finally, if that didn't work, I see nothing wrong with giving the right dosage of Baby Benadryl or something to the kid.
By the way, why hasn't anyone come up with Baby Ambien yet? I am certain there are tiny tots with sleep disorders running around. If I had known about this little magic pill when I was three, I would have totally demanded a prescription for it.
Anyway, I digress.

So instead of actually trying to console their screaming child, the parents of this kid just sat there AND TALKED OVER THEIR BABY WHO CONTINUED TO FREAK THE EFF OUT FOR THE DURATION OF OUR SLEEPY TIME.

Can I get a big ole "WTF??" up in here??
Thank you.
I was LIVID. I was IRATE.


I was especially pissed beause I had actually remembered my cute, little, pink satin sleep mask for the trip, and I couldn't even enjoy its effects.
I don't know what stopped me from getting a flight attendant or going over and bitchslapping the kid's parents, but I tried to remain calm on the outside, even though my blood was boiling on the inside.

Basically, it was nine hours of pure hell.


And then in the morning, once the lights went back on in the cabin, the kid was screaming, "HI!" to everyone and laughing demonically. He obviously has issues and should start seeing a therapist now. This Jekyll and Hyde behavior surely cannot be normal.


Finally, we were in Frankfurt! "Get me off this freaking plane!" I screamed.


I had a good two hours before my next flight, which made me happy because I had never been to Frankfurt and certainly did not know my way around the airport. It's a good thing I had that time, too, because I was lost for a bit.



But those Germans? SO NICE.

Seriously, every single person I interacted with at that airport was super friendly and helpful. I love them.
After yet another hour delay, I was finally on my way to Cairo! How exciting! I was doubly excited when I realized that I had no one on either side of me! Hallelujah! Time for a cat nap!
Until the two children in front and in back of me started their screaming act.
And this is when I contemplated jumping out of the plane.


After "talking myself down", I decided to just let my mind wander and daydream, which pretty much occupied me for the rest of the trip.
When I got to the airport, my husband, who was already in Egypt for business, sent a worker from the hotel to meet me before I had to go through Customs. This expedited the process immensely, as he was able to get my Visa for me, plus whiz me through the Immigration line.


And just like that, I stepped out of the airport and into Egypt, a land I had always dreamed of visiting.

It was magical.

But that's something I'll discuss tomorrow, along with how my life flashed before me at the Great Pyramids of Giza.

A Return to the Bachelorette.

I have so missed blogging about The Bachelorette.  I mean, the only hot mess I've encountered as of late was my body sweating in Egypt. 

Anyway, Trashley opens the show saying that she and the men have to connect both physically and emotionally, so I take that to mean that this will be the episode where she sleeps with all of them.  It was bound to happen eventually, and it's even been rumored that she and Bentley did the nasty together, so it really wouldn't surprise me. 

Ashley's first date is with Constantine.  They go to some really cool lantern ceremony in Taiwan.  I am immediately jealous for Trashley getting to do something so cool.  Ash says she is physically attracted to Constantine, but she's having a hard time connecting with him. 

This doesn't seem to be a problem at dinner, though, when she has her hand basically on his crotch.  ABC is a family channel, Ashley.  Gross.

After dinner, they let their love wish lantern go, and then they stand and hold hands whilst making out.  The kiss looks very stiff and uncomfortable.  It reminded me of the summer after my first year of college when this guy was all about kissing me and I was all about running away from him.

Their segment abruptly ends.

Next up is Ben, Constantine's twin.  Ashley REALLY has the hots for Ben and clearly shows it.  She and Ben go on a sexy motorcycle ride, and then marvel at the sites.  They go to some cool-ass place and Ashley looks crazy ridiculous in her off-the-shoulder green and black mini dress.  Uh, Ashley?  Julia Roberts' character from Pretty Woman called and wants her dress back.  Thanks.  Anyway, back to the show.  Ben admits to the camera that he's falling in love with Ashley, but he's not ready to tell her that.  He does ramble on and on and on about feelings and such to her over dinner, and Ashley has that glazed over look on her face that she often gets.

So they start making out instead of talking.

Ashley tells the camera that she feels Ben is her boyfriend and that she thinks she's falling in love with him. 

All in all, this episode was pretty boring.  Honestly, I was just waiting to get to the Emily/Brad drama they were throwing at us after the episode.

So Ben never returns from his one-on-one date with Ashley.  Big surprise.

JP is PISSED and pouting on the couch.  He drops a few f-bombs. 

Ben comes back and is acting all coy, but he does tell the dudes that he and Ashley didn't share a room.

Perhaps they shared a hammock near the water??  Hmmm...IDK.

So now we have the group date.  Ashley opens it up by saying people in Taiwan LOVE their weddings.  Wow, I never knew that.  I thought America was the only country in the world that loves their weddings.  Idiot.

She takes JP, Lucas, and Ames to this bridal shop to get their pics taken of themselves in wedding garb.  It was seriously the stupidest segment of this show I have ever seen.  Once again, I wanted to gouge my eyes out with a spoon. 

Lucas's garb is some sort of Asian dress, while Ames is dressed in this blue lesiure suit thingy with a weird feather coming out of his breast pocket.  JP gets to be in a regular tux. 

Yawn.

Ashley, like Lucas, is in an Asian dress.  The pictures?  So weird and dumb.  If I had been on this date, I would totally have been doing shots out of the flask I had hidden in my clothing.  Bo-ring.

JP says about a hundred different times that group dates suck.  Um, we know, JP.  You've told us this before.  Stop pouting and being a dickwad.

If you can't tell, I don't like JP.  Not only is he a big baby, but he looks like Derek Jeter.

I loathe and detest Derek Jeter.

For the group night dinner, Ashley wore a Kermit the Frog green jumper.  She reveals that there is a group date rose to give, which will ensure a hometown date for one of these dudes.

I assumed that she'd make the guys give her piggyback rides all over the place to see who could last the longest in order to choose her winner.

Alas, she did not do that. 

She takes Lucas to the side and they talk about whether or not it'd feel weird to get married for a second time.  He says no, and then they make out.

Next comes Ames.  I love Ames.  He is such a dork, but he's smart and seems really sweet.  Run away, Ames.  Run the eff away!

They don't kiss, which means he's totally going home.

Then JP talks to Ashley one-on-one and whines his way through the conversation.  I think he was actually choked up.  So what does Ashley do?  She gives him the rose, and just like that, JP's sour mood is cured.

Sigh.

Ashley, you are SO predictable.

Ames admits that this is the first time he feels this "thing" is out of his hands.

Um, Ames?  I don't think it ever was in your hands.

Especially not when you're wearing fuschia pants.  Just sayin'.

Ryan gets the other one-on-one date for this episode, and I swear, he almost pees his pants with excitement. 

They do all sorts of fun activities, and then he says how much he's hoping she'll come to meet his family.  Ashley's face says it all: "No to the eff no, Ryan."

Can I just say that Ashley is totally cramping my bloggy style?  I used to live for these stupid posts each week, but this biotch is giving me NOTHING. 

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WRITE MY MASTERPIECE, ASHLEY, IF YOU DON'T HELP A SISTER OUT??

And if my point hasn't been proven enough, Ryan and Ashley begin to discuss water heaters.

Let's just take a moment to let that digest, shall we?

...

...

...

Yes, folks!  We've gone from drunken, sexual antics in previous years and have moved to water heaters.

And then Ashley dumps him.  She starts to cry and tells him that she doesn't see Ryan as her husband.  Ryan looks shocked and hurt.  For real.

It's awkward, but I'll give Ashley credit for telling him that she didn't want to put him through the rose ceremony when she knew she wasn't going to give him some...I mean one.

Ryan then begins his tearful plea to become America's next Bachelor.  He is shell-shocked and crying.  He starts to say, "I want someone more than you have..." and then walks off and starts swearing and yelling at himself.  He sits on a bench and does some yoga breathing techniques.

The camera does a bunch of weird zooms.  I'm totally convinced this is just another act.

I am so sick of this crap, ABC.  Knock it off.

Later, Ashley and Chris B. Harrison have another heart-to-heart.  Ashley says her mind is made up. 

In a shocking twist, Ashley chooses Ames over Lucas.  He is a gentleman the whole time, which leads me to believe he is less-than-heartbroken over having to go home.  Ames looks disappointed that he's not going home. 

Ashley breaks down and says she never knew there was this much pressure.  Sweetie, if you can't handle a fictitious reality dating show, you certainly can't be someone's dentist.

And then the piece de resistance!  The Emily and Brad saga!  Holla! 

A tearful Emily steps out of a limo and admits to America that she and Brad are no longer engaged. 

Um, Emily, you're not telling me anything I haven't already read in InTouch, Us Weekly, and People. 

She's totally the next Bachelorette.

Teaser.

Hello, old friends!  Thanks for waiting around for me to come back from yet another blogging hiatus. With the exception of tomorrow, due to my Bachelorette commentary (and today, really), I will be blogging all week about my fabulous adventures in Egypt.  You will surely not want to miss these posts, as they will contain the ups and downs of the trip, including wanting to jump out of the plane at 35,000 feet, and thinking I was going to have a heart attack whilst IN the Great Pyramid (well, at least the burial chamber was empty--they could've just stuffed me in there).

Did I surive the Great Pyramids?  Did the Sphinx put a curse on me?  Did I actually ride a camel?  And did Daydream Believer have the power to unite a nation?

Stay tuned for the answers to all of these questions and more!

Mr. Sphinxy