Just a superfluous post about reality TV and goats, because what else is going on in my life? Is it time for another cookie yet?

Anyone else watching this season of The Bachelor? I’m continuing along with my general pandemic philosophy: anything goes.

Five cups of coffee? Sure. Whip cream straight from the can into my mouth at 7am? Why not? My children eating frozen chicken nuggets straight from the bag? More power to them. My children also eating frozen green beans? I’m officially winning. Mind-numbing reality TV with a great set of abs? Yes please!

It’s season 25. I’ve caught the occasional episode from seasons 1-24, but for the most part TV and I don’t have a huge relationship. I’m committed to the Daily Show with Trevor Noah and videos of my children.

I’m one of those terrible people who can’t handle any suspense and will read the last chapter of a book before continuing along from the beginning. If my favorite character is going to die or come to some other devastating end, I like to be emotionally prepared for it.

Same goes for The Bachelor. I’ve read all the online spoilers. I couldn’t help myself. This guy seems like he likes all the women or at least he’s kissing all of them. No matter how many times I remind myself that they’re all quarantined and healthy, I still find the germ sharing shocking.

Captain is not a fan. There are many more feminine body parts floating around than rock hard abs, but CNN wins him every time.

I do the news doomsday scroll throughout the day so that by the time Matt James is ready to kiss 15 different women on a farm while they shovel manure and chase goats. I’m all in.

Never mind that I’ve always been partial to goats.

India, 2007. I don’t even know how to leave the state anymore.
Nepal, 2007
India, 2007. I was on the cusp of the selfie movement.
India, 2007. I told you I like goats.

Pony, will you accept this rose?


I have a terrible confession to make. I started watching The Bachelor. I have no reasonable explanation for this besides that Jon Stewart abandoned me and I’ve been floating between TV shows ever since. I enjoy a little Trevor Noah, a little Jimmy Fallon, a little Stephen Colbert and a little Ben Higgins.

I know the show is killing my brain cells, but so does wine and that doesn’t stop me. I couldn’t stand to watch the show before because in addition to destroying my brain, I was also envious. Not envious of the process, but envious of the supposed final product: True Love.

Now that I’m head over heels in love with Captain, the show is much more enjoyable. I am no longer watching it and wondering if I should be updating my Match.com profile or applying for the show. Although this season there was a pretty cute pony in the running. She’s got my vote for the next bachelorette.