Blog Tour and Bachelorette Recap: Finale and ATFR

We're almost to the end of the Bachelorette Blog Tour for my debut novel Reality Check. For a chance to win an autographed copy of the novel and a silver starfish charm bracelet, leave a comment below (include your email address). And for more chances to win, check out The Book Bug. You'll find active links to the blogs that are participating in the tour. The more comments you leave, the better your chance of winning. And, if you already have your own copy of Reality Check, there's another great book you can have instead. Or I can substitute a prize "of equal value." You'll just have to trust me.

Let's get started!

The long-awaited day finally arrived, when all of America (or at least those of us who are interested) learned whether Emily chose Arie or Jef—unless you read the spoilers, in which case you were just watching to see if RealitySteve called it correctly.

I sat on my couch, paper and pen in hand, ready to take copious notes for this blog post. I think in the first half hour I wrote down two words: Jef's hair. It looked to me like he trimmed and tamed the hipster bouffant for his "meet the parents" gig. And it looked good.

When the three hours ended, I realized I could have squished all my notes onto a single Post-It note. Mostly I drew pictures on my teenage daughter's leg during the commercials. (I added a photo for fun. Obviously I am also not an artist.) The rest of the time I just sat back and enjoyed watching the show.

Before I share my observations let's briefly summarize the finale:

Emily's family met both guys and loved both guys, which was no help to Emily. Picking between Mr. Right and Mr. Wrong is easy. Picking between two Mr. Rights is a lot harder.

Emily's final date with Jef boiled down to Emily realizing that, if she wanted a guy ready to commit to the entire mama/daughter package, the guy had to have a chance to know the entire mama/daughter package. Jef met Ricki and quickly got on her good side by donning her pink swimming goggles and letting her push him into the pool.

That was the last piece of the puzzle for Emily. She told Chris Harrison she knew where her heart was, and knew she needed to send Arie home. Not surprisingly, Arie was stunned but generally kept his cool while dealing with total shock before leaving in the black SUV of doom.

Time for the Final Rose. The only questions remaining were: will Jef get down on one knee, and, if he does, will Emily actually accept? (Those pesky teasers again.)

At the Final Rose, Emily was free for the first time to share her feelings with Jef. She loves him and she thinks he may be her soulmate (A Reality Check word that's dear to my heart). And yes, he got down on one knee and yes, Emily accepted the proposal—and asked him, in turn, if he would accept that Final Rose.


My Should Have Been on a Post-It Note Observations:

Should Arie have realized something was amiss when Dinah the Potion Lady had him mixing his flowers and oils alone?

Did anyone else notice that Emily's dress totally matched the terra cotta pots on the Final Rose platform?

Total number of guys I managed to count in the live studio audience: five. Not counting Chris Harrison, Arie or Jef. Oh, I also didn't count JP or Stagliano. I made hash marks in the margin of my "page" of notes when I wasn't drawing an earthworm on my kid's thigh.

For those of you wondering, "Glory of Love" by Peter Cetera was a Billboard #1 in 1986. And has been stuck in my head every since the finale began. "I am a man who will fight for your honor . . ." 

The "shocking news" we were teased with was that Arie flew to Charlotte without telling anyone so he could talk things out with Emily, but after arriving there decided not to confront her in person.

Jef and Arie are friends and Jef helped Arie deal after he went home. That's cool. And Arie was, once again, a gentleman who handled his disappointment and heartache with grace.

To wrap things up: Jef is moving to Charlotte, they will live separately, and Emily likes the idea of a spring wedding. Everyone else is placing bets on how long the couple will last. Considering the franchise track record, that's not a surprise.

I would like to offer my own two cents. As part of my research for Reality Check, I spent a lot of time analyzing these shows, thinking through the process and the motives of those who produce the show, as well as those who sign up to be part of it. Here's my bottom line, for what it's worth:

The show isn't real but the people are. 

I know. Duh, right? But that's pretty much it.

The taping of the show and the experiences the participants have are their reality while they're going through it. I think sometimes we forget that as viewers. I hear comments that the show isn't what real life is like and that, under those intense situations, it's easy to think you're in love when you're not. That it's different when you're back in the real world.

That is all true.

But it is also true that people who go through intense experiences together bond over that experience. They shared something unique together that only they understand. Sometimes those bonds last. Sometimes they don't. But those experiences are still real to the people who went through them. Whether those people served overseas in the military together, or helped each other survive the Twin Towers, or simply spent long hours together on a huge work deadline, a bond forms that's real. So, too, is living in a jungle for a month hoping to win Survivor, or joining twenty-five other men or women on The Bachelor/ette. 


For that reason, I will allow myself to cheer Emily and Jef on as they explore their real emotions in their real world. I will get out of their way and wish them the best. They seem like wonderful people. And I hope for them this is more than a happy ending. I hope it's a great beginning.

The Perfect Prom Payday

My daughter H was on the hunt for the perfect prom dress. And she found it. It fit her perfectly; the color—a purple iridescent taffeta—was perfectly unique.

The dress was perfect, she said. It was also strapless.

Before you think mean ol' Mom put her foot down with a big N-O as a result, you have to understand my H. She's a modest kid. A strapless dress was never an option in her mind. No, the big question she had for me was how willing I would be to try to find the matching fabric needed to make the dress pass her dad's and my (and her) standards.

Seriously, iridescent purple taffeta is not a big sale item at JoAnn's Fabrics these days. I was worried. But we bought the dress. Because it was perfect.

Without going into a lot of boring details, but with some organza in both purple and pink, we got a close match. H was thrilled. I was still unsure. I asked my uber-costumer friend Paula for her opinion. She gave me the thumbs up. Well, if Paula thought it was okay, I guessed I was okay, too. Yours Truly spent a few nights hand sewing slippery fabric onto the perfect prom dress—and that's pretty tricky to do when you've got your fingers crossed the entire time.

In the end, it turned out okay. I was relieved. H was happy, and she looked beautiful on the day of the prom.

So you can imagine how we felt when she told us what happened at the restaurant before the dance. The place was full of prom-goers, teens looking their best and ready to have a great evening. While H was eating dinner with her date and their group, a mother with a 4-yr old girl came up to her and whispered that her daughter liked H's dress the best of all the prom dresses there.

Well, that was cool! H was flattered. (It is kinda hard to top iridescent purple taffeta, I suppose . . .)

But then later, before leaving the restaurant, H and the girls in her prom group headed to the ladies' room. Once again they encountered the mom and little girl. The woman, fighting tears, told them that her daughter had said that when she grows up she wants to wear a modest pretty dress like those girls. The mom thanked H and her friends for choosing to wear beautiful, modest prom dresses, and for setting a good example for her daughter.

What a perfect payday for some wonderful teens who were making good choices and were examples for good as a result, and for the moms who helped those girls look and feel elegant and special, despite what's frequently available to them on the store racks.

Raiders of the Lost Art (of Fun Dates)

A couple of weeks ago, a neighbor decided to throw a prom night for his girlfriend for her birthday, since she hadn't gone to a prom in high school. He recruited his friends, so it would feel like a real dance.

As a result, we recently found a suspicious package on our doorstep. It included a leather bomber jacket, a fedora, a whip, and a pouch. It also included instructions that sent my college-aged daughter on a treasure hunt, a la Indiana Jones, to discover who'd invited her to the prom.

I don't know what it's like in other places, but here in Utah, invitations to high school prom often include elaborate puzzles, requiring the invitee to discover who asked them.

Her first clue sent her up the canyon by our house where she found a golden ark (actually a recipe card box with chop sticks stuck through it for handles). Inside were snakes and directions to her next location, where she found a heart-shaped cake she had to dig into (ew, I was never very fond of #2 The Temple of Doom) for stones. . .and the directions to her final location. There she had to select from a wide selection of chalices to find her final clue.

Pretty cool invite to a make-believe prom for twenty-somethings, I think!

My kid responded in kind: she sent him to a friend's house (the—ahem—convenient location of "Dr. Jones's Library of Archaelogy and Antiquities"), where he found a dead monkey (okay, it was a Beanie Baby—no actual animals were killed or harmed in the making of this prom reply) and a bag of dates, with a note saying that, if he promised not to be a bad date that he should text an anonymous phone number (her sister's phone).

When he'd done that, he received a cell phone reply of a video—a closeup of my daughter's eyes blinking, with the words "SAY YES" written on her eyelids. As in: "EYE" SAY YES. (Not quite as daring as the girl in Indiana Jones's lecture class who'd written "LOVE YOU" on her eyelids, but still. . . )

Now everybody needs to go re-watch the movies so they can understand all the references!

About forty couples showed up for the fun. In the meantime, I have posted a few pictures from the actual prom. A good time was had by all. (And the birthday girl was thrilled, from what I was told.)

Final thought: the Ferrari was only borrowed. *Dang*