“In the Middle of the Atlantic”

Yall thought I was gone for good, huh?  Don’t get your hopes up worry, I’ve got far too much Catholic guilt and am far too neurotic to leave my public alone for too long.  But sometimes I have to suck it up and do big-girl stuff like look for jobs and go camping with my family and scrub out the bathtub…yall know how it is.  At any rate, many resumes have been sent out, no one got eaten by a bear, and my bathtub is so clean it sparkles.  That means it’s time to get down to business and have a little chat about what happened in Madeira (which- no matter what Des says- is not “in the middle of the Atlantic ocean.”  It’s a ways off the coast Morocco and a little bit southwest of Portugal.).

drew vs zak

Drew: Angrily plotting Zak’s “accidental” death.
Des: Tolerating Zak’s conversation and contemplating his…interesting…facial structure.
Zak: Talking about how he reconciles his Catholic faith with his quasi-nudist lifestyle.

(Since this is a verrry-late-and-almost-but-not-quite-irrelevant recap, I’ll try to keep it brief.)

  • Let’s all appreciate the man-zoo that happened when Des had her gal-pals from the last season of The Bachelor– whose names I can’t remember, because I spent the entire season staring at Sean- come meet her “in the middle of the Atlantic” to gossip and pass judgment about the guys.  It was more or less a human zoo made of chiseled, attention-whoring men.  The guys whooped and hollered and splashed around and whipped their clothes off in one big display of virility and machismo as the ladies watched from a safe distance, separated by a fence, tropical landscaping, and some cameramen.  I was shocked that none of them attempted to throw feces across the fence.
  • Brooks is experiencing some rapid regression on numerous developmental fronts.  First, he says he’s “forgotten how to go on one-on-one dates.”  Then he beings a stream-of-consciousness monologue as he decides “we need more adjectives.”  Yes, yes you do, because God forbid you just keep a few of your feelings to yourself.  Both Brooks and Des need to find a therapist and a thesaurus before they find a soulmate.
  • Des says (while she and Brooksie are on top of the mountain), “This is the fairytale I signed up for!”  Translation: “I am severely needy and overly emotional, with big-leagues daddy issues and crippling clinical codependency.  FIX ME! FIX MEEEE!”
  • During dinner with Brooks, Des says that she came up with “some more adjectives for us” and proceeds to list them off:  stepping, skipping, running, and finish line…Forgive me if this sounds pretentious, but those are not adjectives!  At this point, I spent a full two minutes hollering at the television screen about gerunds grammar and the failing standards of the American academic system.
  • Chris and Des have a one-on-one date.  Poems are involved, of course, but it’s worse than ever because they WRITE a poem.  TOGETHER.  Watching that was so painful for my brain.  I really like the transition though from Des and Brooks discussing “adjectives” to Des and Chris dabbling in the art of poetry.  Hey producers, I see what you did there…
  • “Writing poetry together just feels right, and it’s not awkward, and it’s fun.”  I see you, Chris, I see you.  I’m pickin’ up what you’re throwin’ down…and look at you speaking in metaphors, you dirty dog!
  • Michael and Des have their one and only one-on-one date.  There is no chemistry between them (not that anyone was actually expecting any) and they listen to the worst Spanish (Or was it Portuguese? Latina? Yall know what I mean…) singer in Madeira.  Michael attempts to create intimacy by inviting Des to give him his insulin injection for the evening.
  • Double date with Zak and Drew is incredibly awkward and strained and go-karts are involved.  Zak continues this season’s craft-fair theme by pulling out a sketchbook full of crayon drawings he’s made of the highlights of his time with Des.  Drew tears up talking about his handicapped sister, and Des comforts him by taking a throat culture.  With her tongue.  (Good news, Drew: You test for strep throat came back negative!  The herpes test, however…) Drew gets the rose, and Zak imagines running him down with a go-kart in a fiery crash of passion.
  • Michael seeks solace in his mother’s bosom after being given the boot.  Technically, he just phoned his mum while crying from the back of a minivan being driven by a lighting tech who didn’t even get his GED, but I’m using a metaphor…like Chris.

Check back tomorrow for a review of this week’s show (Week 8- hometown visits!), and the story of how I ate nothing but s’mores and didn’t wash my hair went camping and survived off the land for three days.

Toast of the Day: Cheers to healthy glucose metabolism! ….No offense, Michael.


3 thoughts on ““In the Middle of the Atlantic”

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