My husband may not whisk me off to another country where he wants to scale the side of a mountain and then slowly repel down so we can bond over our fear of heights, but he does work hard, remember to give the dog her pills and calls me on his way home from work.
There's something disingenuous about using the "privacy card" when you've signed up to be on a reality show about love (and -- let's admit it -- sex). There's something disingenuous about having sex with a person whom you know is in love with you.
You see, I have two distinct sides to me: (1) The Academic, and (2) The Hopeless Romantic. I can talk about these shows from both sides of my mouth. So I'm going to give you a little insight into my crazy thoughts and explain my struggle.
They were so much better-looking in person. We were actually floored by how good-looking they were. They were all very comfortable and charismatic on stage. Clearly, they had been in front of cameras for months. None of them seemed shy or embarrassed to be there.
I'm not saying dating is hard. I just didn't like entire process -- the inherent uncertainty, the lack of clear guidelines, the seeming futility. Most of all, I disliked the constant stream of advice from friends.
Since our backs are usually nestled in between couch cushions in front of the TV, we actually feel pretty safe. But we know a few people out there in TV Land who definitely deserve to be taken down a notch or two, and we have just the recipe for each one.