Betches and the Bach – Leap Day Edition

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** I posted a similar blog yesterday before last night’s EPIC episode but there was a glitch with the link and it deleted everything past the page break… so I’ve reworked the post to include last night’s shenanigans and have reposted for your Super Tuesday enjoyment **

So yesterday was Leap Day… a magical day that only comes around once every presidential election year.  It’s like daylight savings on steroids… instead of gaining an extra hour to be more productive you gain a WHOLE DAY. Shout out to all the showers that got scrubbed, all the extra spinning classes that were taken, and to that kid Evan I went to elementary school with who finally turned 7 years old.  WELL DONE EVAN!

I’ve always been very wary of Leap Years.  I mean what is it about every four years that warrants an extra day?  I’m starting to think that it’s a ploy by presidential hopefuls to gain an extra day of campaigning before Super Tuesday.  I’m currently in Texas for my grandmother’s 90th birthday celebration and let me tell you that Ted Cruz was OUT AND ABOUT making the most of his Leap Day yesterday.  I’ve been carrying eggs in my Louis Vuitton just in case he should happen to cross my path.  ** IF YOU’RE IN A SUPER TUESDAY STATE GO VOTE Y’ALL OR ELSE GIVE UP ALL COMPLAINING RIGHTS FOR THE NEXT FOUR YEARS **  California on the other hand doesn’t vote till June, that’s why I’m able to spend my afternoon in this Starbucks being sassy about trivial things like last night’s episode of “The Bachelor”.

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Betches and the Bach – Wikipedia Edition

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I hope you remember the tune…

Two weeks come and gone.   I’m the worst, you guys.

Couldn’t write my blog, now it’s all a fog, I apologize.

Let me search the web… remember who’s attached.

Google saves the day, in every single way.

Betches and the Bach

Hello Roselings!  I’ve missed you these past two weeks!  There was some trouble with my site and I haven’t been able to post till now.  Actually that’s a bit of a fib.  The reason I didn’t blog about Week 4 till now is because there was a glitch with my site.  The reason I missed blogging about Week 3 is because I was in mourning over Lace leaving the competition. Seriously… I wore black and hardly left my apartment all week.  Now it could totally be argued that this was merely because black is a SUPER flattering color and the weather in LA has been bad (#ElNino) but I’d much rather say it was out of respect for Lace… the once and future queen of Bachelor Nation.

So while I normally take notes during the broadcasts and prepare jokes for my recaps, when my WordPress account glitched this week I lost everything I had worked on.  I remember a few key things from the last two episodes.  Lauren B’s romantic plane ride to a hot tub in the middle of nowhere for one… which I don’t know about you but a tacky ass jacuzzi in the middle of Camarillo somewhere off the 101 north is NOT my idea of a good date.  And Jubilee’s one on one where she proved that she might possibly be the first ever contestant on this franchise to have actually gone through anything resembling actual #realworldproblems.  I also remember getting REALLY UPSET when the betches in the house starting pulling mean girl stuff with Jubilee at the cocktail party and may or may not have tweeted something along the lines of…

Not sorry about it either.  Then Lace left and I wept, and then they were off to Las Vegas where trash ensued because, well, it’s Vegas.  I do remember Olivia saying she wanted a one on one date to go see Celine… Which is actually EXACTLY what I’d want sooooooooo… #IAmOlivia

But what else happened, really?  What was then name of that one cute brunette girl who never really says anything but got a rose.  No not that one… the other one.  No not that one… the other… you get the idea.  Enter Wikipedia.

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Betches and the Bach – Bachelor Recap Week 2

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Just in case you thought I wasn’t serious about new verses every week… I most certainly was.

Week 2 in the books… villains left and right

Ben sure likes the chase, then of course there’s Lace, she’s not super bright.

They hooked up to machines… to see if they’re a match

Olivia pulled face, and then of COURSE there’s Lace…

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Week two of Ben’s search for love got off to a fantastic start.  In fact I have no idea what was being said by anyone for the first five minutes because I was far too distracted deconstructing Ben’s bulge from the crotch shot the producers so generously gave my fellow single and/or sexually frustrated women of America.  My glasses may or may not have fogged up, and my girlfriends and I may or may not have rewound and pressed pause.

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You’re welcome, dear roselings.

I was, however, able to defog my glasses enough to notice two things:

  1. While the girls are still sleeping in bunk beds, the headboards of said bunk beds are TUFTED.  This is an inconsequential fact but I do LOVE a tufted headboard.  Makes even betches getting white girl wasted on Sauvignon Blanc feel classy AF.
  2. They’ve moved Ben to a hotel off site, which means the producers learned their lesson after 90% of the betches from Chris Soules’s season went sneaking next door in the dead of night for some off-camera sexy time.  Smart move producers, especially since this reallocation of funds has apparently allowed for tufted headboards.

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The Fact Is, You’re a Lady Edith.

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Last Sunday the final season of Downton Abbey premiered on PBS, and people all over these United States sipped tea, donned their finest hats, and watched the beginning of the end.  For me there was only one way to prepare for such a momentous occasion: binge watch the entire series. It was incredible, but it got me thinking.

When watching an ensemble show like Downton Abbey, it is almost impossible NOT to look at the characters and figure out how you’d fit in the mix.  When I was a tween I did it with the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants books – I was a Lena.  Then as a teenager and into my young adulthood I did it with Sex and the City.  I mean – who HASN’T done it with Sex and the City?  I’m a Charlotte – obvi.

But last May our friends over at BuzzFeed gave us a truly remarkable gift. They took a good look at this Sex and the City “I’m a Carrie” “I’m a Samantha” phenomenon and spoke truth to power in an article titled: The Fact Is, You’re a Miranda.  It was brilliant, and made this tried and true Charlotte re-think a lot of things.  Because the truth is, at one time or another, WE ARE ALL MIRANDA.

I was reminded of this article during my epic Downton binge session. As I was watching I couldn’t help but think to myself “I’m totally a Lady Mary”… beautiful and stoic, the perfect portrait of a lady till a Turkish diplomat is found dead in my bed post-coitus.  Just as others may watch and say “I’m a Lady Sybil”… free-thinking and opinionated but loving and kind.  Or perhaps you’re a Lady Rose, wild and full of life with jazz and lust running through your veins.  Or maybe you’re an Anna, loyal and dutiful taking care of everyone around you, even when your husband is in jail for on a murder charge.

That’s all well and good – until the truth hits.  The truth being, of course, that you’re a Lady Edith.  At one time or antother, WE ARE ALL LADY EDITH.

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Betches and The Bach – Bachelor Recap Week 1

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I’d like you to imagine the following lyrics being sung by an animated teapot in the dulcet tones of Angela Lansbury. You know the tune.  If you don’t we can’t be friends.

Tale as old as time… true as it can be…

After 20 years, and so many tears, it is plain to see.

Though Ben is a prince, and he’s quite a catch…

We found out yesterday, these ladies all be cray…

Betches and the Bach.

Yes dear hearts… the time has come for another season of “The Bachelor”… Season 20, in fact.  You’d think that after 20 years of sequin gowns, string bikinis, long nights and cat fights, the women in this country might have learned certain life lessons from the Bachelor franchise.  You’d think that, but you’d be wrong.  Year after year after year betches flock from far and wide to drink white wine and act crazy on national television, all for our amusement… and of course to find love.  I’m so #grateful.

That said, there’s something a little different in the Bachelor kool-aid this season… and it tastes and awful lot like character.  Enter this year’s Bach – Ben Higgins.

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What Would Scarlett Do? – A list of “Do’s and Don’ts” for 2016

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Happy 2016 dear hearts.  I have been away a long long time… moving my life across the country, filming a little movie, and going into full mourning over the Chipotle E. Coli outbreak have kept me very busy this fall.  But it’s a new year and I’m ready to recommit myself to the important things in life: blessing hearts, cultural commentary, the occasional online date, and of course – sharing it all with you, my readers.

Now if you remember my New Year’s post from last year, you’ll know that I’m NOT A fan of “New Year, New Me”.  I don’t find it a productive anecdote to begin the year with*.  In fact, in pure protest, I enjoyed a delicious lunch today sitting alone at the bar of my local Cheesecake Factory.  New Year, SAME ME.

You see, over the course of any given year we, as humans, are exposed to the FULL spectrum of the human experience.  We experience sadness, but we also experience great joy.  We experience failure, but we also experience successes that deserve recognition.  The problem is that as each year comes to a close and we reflect upon what has transpired in preparation for what is to come, we tend to focus only on the negative… all the things that went wrong or what is lacking in our lives.  And conversely, when looking at the lives of those around us and comparing ours to theirs (as EVERYONE does) we tend to only see the positive… all the things that have gone right for those people or what they might have that we desperately want.  But here’s the thing: If life has taught me anything in these 26 years it is that nothing is black and white, and no one’s experience is all good or all bad. There is always a middle ground full of gorgeous shades of gray, and it is in recognizing this middle ground that we can authentically and productively make resolutions.

What I like to do when welcoming a New Year is look back at my life, be it the past year or the past several years, and honestly take account of what has been working and what has not.  I make a list of positive things from previous years that I want to carry over into the coming year, as well as a list of things that maybe weren’t so positive and that I hope to do differently.  I also let those comparisons to friends and family kick in, because they are natural, but I force myself to navigate those comparisons realistically, without the rose colored glasses we often apply to life experiences that aren’t our own.  As an example, as well as a kind of welcome back to the blog and because I think it will be fun, this year I’m composing my lists of Do’s and Don’ts as they relate to one of my greatest role models, as well as one of the great literary heroines of our time: Scarlett O’Hara.

After all, WWSD is an acronym I strive to live by.

* (I googled whether or not I was allowed to end that sentence with a preposition and I am.  Fellow grammar nazis stand down.)

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“Ah women, women”

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Hello dear hearts…

I was so devastated by the passing of legendary female author Jackie Collins this week. She was the epitome of grace, class, and sass – everything I hope to emulate in my life. Strong in her convictions and smart as a whip, there was no one quite like her. I have been mulling over ways to pay tribute to this incredible woman on the blog this week, and ultimately have decided to simply re-blog the piece I wrote after seeing her speak at the Cedars Sinai Women’s Guild Awards two years ago. Here’s to you Queen Jackie… the original “trailblazer”.

xx DD

The Displaced Debutante

During my Junior Year at NYU, one year after I made my debut in Mississippi, my father called to inform me that I had received an invitation to make another debut – this time on a more international scale.  The International Debutante Ball happens every two years at The Waldorf Astoria hotel here in New York and I had been selected from my crop of Mississippi Debs to attend.  It was a very proud moment both for my parents and for me as well.  I immediately wrote a play in my mind about walking down those stairs, the gown (it would be the vintage Dior gown that had been purchased for my first ball but that I wasn’t able to wear), who my escort might be, and how we would be married in June a year later on my family’s estate and in 10 years he’d be running for some…

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