On Being "Normal"

Wayne has always told me he is glad I am not a "normal" girl. By that I think he means my interests extend beyond the latest hair, fashion, and makeup trends; he has always praised me for not getting lost in soap operas and shows like "The Bachelor." I guess he somehow got the misguided notion that normalcy does not coexist with good fashion sense and fairy tale romance.

But I know a lot of really cool women who are really in to these types of shows and they are pretty dang normal. So who's to judge? Maybe I'm missing out?

I was on Facebook around the time "The Bachelor" premiered this season, and there was one of my dental school friends posting on his page that his wife was forcing him to watch as payback for making her watch "Mythbusters" with him the night previous. So, to pass the time more enjoyably, he and his buddies were posting a play by play on his wall, complete with color commentary a la Dudeness. And it was freakin' hilarious. I thought, "No WAY it could be this cheesy! ...Really? They are actually playing 'On the Wings of Love' by Billy Ocean?!? ...And the guy is striking a Top Gun pose on his motorcycle? What am I missing out on?"

So I tuned in. And I did so at great expense, because while I would have much to chat about with my girlfriends who were regular viewers, I had lost the respect of the man I married. You should have heard his absolutely HORRIFIED reaction when he found out: "NOOOOOO! I can't believe you're watching that crap! How could you betray me like this? My image of you is shattered!" Shana, what would Jack Bauer say?"

Wayne should know better than to use tactics like this on me. I'm a Scorpio with a Taurus moon sign... hence, I'm stubborn like a bull and like to pop you with my stinger. So I totally dug in my heels... and watched every single episode to spite him.

But he was right. Shhhh. Don't tell him. Can I make that typeset any smaller?

Oh, my gosh! That was such a load of CA-RAP!!! How desperate do you have to be to subject yourself to such humiliation and become one of these women vying for the affection of one (albeit superstudly looking) dude? I mean, I get that you have recently acquired a marvelous set of silicone ta-tas and need to find the perfect venue to wear low cut dresses to show them off... But COME ON, girls!!! The guy is sucking face with every girl on the show? Doesn't the prospect of communicable diseases cross your mind every time he macks on you? Aren't you afraid of lip V.D.?

And why, if you end up being the girl that almost wins his heart, but loses to the other skank with no self respect, would you go on a reunion show and listen to the show's host say things like, "So, your heart got totally stomped on that day. How did that make you feel?" "Uuuum. LIKE TOTAL CRAP, YOU JERK! What do you think?" "Gee , why don't we watch the clip that made you feel like jumping out of your hotel window." "Sure, Buddy. That would be awesome. But don't mind me while the clip is playing and you are panning on my face while the audience watches for my pained reaction... I'm just going to ingest this bottle of pills. Please don't try to pump my stomach."

Or even better, if you end up being THE girl--the one who has won the heart of Superstud--you have to watch the entire season of him explaining how he adores all these other women, and then watch him make out with them... Over and over and over again. If that doesn't put you directly into marital counseling, then I don't know what will.

So I guess I'm not normal after all. I HATE this crap. Give me a terrorist threat and Jack Bauer's penchant for ridding the world of Nu-cu-lar weapons any day. 'Cause watching that herd of stupid women almost made me want to blow some stuff up, myself.