Go Ahead, Blacklist Me.

For a while I was really afraid to post stories about working in TV because I was concerned that I’d “blacklist” myself if I pissed off the wrong person. While that might be true, I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t care anymore and some stories are meant to be told. This one isn’t even that bad, considering this woman made my life a living hell for about a year.

My first year working in Los Angeles as an “Executive Coordinator” entailed a lot more personal work than I expected. And very little Executive Coordinating. I was a glorified Personal Assistant at best- I didn’t make enough money to live on because my rate was laughably low (I believe it’s the current minimum wage, which is under scrutiny) and I was restricted to “40 hours per week” even though this still required me to promptly answer text messages, calls, and emails 24/7. And if you’re asking why I didn’t claim those hours, it’s because my boss extensively reviewed my work hours every week and occasionally argued me down if she thought the number was too high. Did the same thing for my gas mileage tracker, which I never lied on but was still accused of tracking my commute miles.

I genuinely believed this job would fast-track me on to becoming a television writer’s assistant. I was one of the many aspirational 21 year olds who believed the false promises made to them by unhappy people at the top who resent them for “being the future of the industry.” I trusted this person who claimed to see potential in me, I invested myself fully in this job even though it made me miserable and wasn’t remotely close to what I wanted to be doing with my life.

This silly story sticks out in my mind, just to give you an idea of how out of touch I was with reality. And maybe it will make you realize how out of touch with reality you are too. Because if you don’t see anything wrong with it, something is off.

My boss asked me to watch her two dogs on a Sunday in Beverly Hills while she went out and had fun with her friends. My ex-boyfriend and I decided we’d make a morning of it and go out for breakfast at Hugo’s in West Hollywood. Granted- I probably spent all of the money I earned in that day on my meal at Hugo’s… Not because Hugo’s is expensive but because that’s truly how little money I made. (Can I also note that I had no health insurance, PTO, government holidays, literally zero benefits other than the occasional free lunch that I had to pick up for myself and all others in the office in the heart of Beverly Hills where parking is basically a hazing ritual for the new folk?)

Anyway, at Hugo’s I ordered this intriguing frittata called the “Go Green Frittata” it was a massive GREEN egg bake with quinoa, kale, and other various green ruffagey shit. This was back when I was desperately trying to be skinny by eating nothing and prancing on ellipticals a few times per week. The thing was gargantuan and tasted mostly revolting but I ate it all. Would highly recommend that no one ever allow themselves to eat anything bright green for breakfast. You’re asking for a weird day. 

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(this is an actual image of the frittata at Hugo’s)

I was nursing a bit of a hangover because what else do you do when you’re 21, new to Los Angeles and your boyfriend is pretty much the only friend you have? You get hammered and lament your life choices. You also starve yourself slightly so that it takes less alcohol to get drunk and you can save money. On this particular morning I had the kind of hangover that came in waves of brief, sweaty, panicked, nausea. The kind I now can cure with my bff edible marijuana and an alarmingly long nap. 

We went back to take care of the dogs and watch a little NFL. Boyfriend had to be at work later that afternoon so I would drive him and then come back to the house. I felt my stomach get that cute little nauseousness so I spent the majority of the morning napping while he gave me emphatic highlights from the games we cared about.

When it came time to drive him to work, I was fully ill. At this time I was dealing with severe digestive problems and had no way of predicting how my body would react to unfamiliar foods. Almost every meal gave me trouble- but not this kind of trouble. Not Go Green Frittata trouble. I was sweating and could barely speak as we drove the 5 minutes to his office. He was concerned, because anyone who knows me knows that it’s an issue if I go 5 minutes without speaking. I pretended to be fine even though I could feel that unmistakable lump forming in the back of my throat, the one that firms up the esophagus in preparation for a boot and rally. 

Once I dropped him off, I genuinely worried I wouldn’t make it back to her house without barfing all over the interior of his new Ford Fusion. 

As I was rounding the corner onto my boss’s street, desperately gasping for air and blasting cold air conditioning breeze on my sweaty face, my cell phone rang and it was the boss.

I answered the line knowing I’d be in trouble (and she’d just keep calling) if I didn’t, and she immediately started barking demands at me. My stomach gave a violent churn as I hung up on her and made a drastic swerve to the side of the road in this bougie Beverly Hills neighborhood. I ran to the sidewalk, fell to my knees, and proceeded to vomit a massive green mound of quinoa, veggies, eggs and shreds of pancake. I’ve never thrown up so much in one sitting in my entire life. I can almost guarantee you a curious dog or a lucky raccoon made lunch out of it later that day.

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(Another gentle reminder of what the frittata looked like to begin with)

I stared into the vomit for a minute and realized that this was probably going to be very representative of my time in Los Angeles. Laugh at me if you want- but this was a profound moment. Here I was… Amidst million dollar homes in one of the world’s most famous neighborhoods, finally “pursuing my lifelong dream”, but actually just staring into a pile of my own bright green vomit. Hollywood, where (if you REALLY want it bad enough) your dreams come true… Right???

I got back in the car fully knowing my stomach was not emptied and the storm hadn’t cleared. But that didn’t matter- I had hung up on her.

“I’m so sorry- I had to pull over the car and throw up. What did you need?” I asked

“You actually threw up? Wow, good thing you weren’t driving my car.” She said, then quickly moved on as if I’d told her that I just sneezed on the steering wheel while driving. As if it wasn’t Sunday and I wasn’t spending my “free time” trapped in the apartment that had come to feel more like a prison than an “office.”

It was this moment where I realized that as much as MY life revolved around HER, I ceased to exist in her mind when I wasn’t doing something for her. I wasn’t a human to her. I was means to an end, something she could take advantage of with no remorse. There was no part of her that considered coming home early to relieve me of dog sitting so that I could go home and rest. There was no part of her that felt guilty that I spent the remainder of the day vomiting violently (and surprisingly painfully) into her various toilets while my boyfriend helplessly texted me from his office.

Tell me that this is what it takes to be successful in Los Angeles. Tell me that you have to “work in the trenches” before you can ever EARN the opportunity to do what you love. Tell me that I deserved to be emotionally abused and manipulated for a year, which amounted to approximately nothing other than teaching me never to trust what someone promises you. Tell me that I deserved to feel like I was never good enough and that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by moving out here.

You can tell me any of that, I don’t agree with you. I don’t think I ever should have been treated that way and I don’t think ANYONE deserves to be treated that way. Yet this is just one tiny story in a catalogue of experiences I’ve had over the last four-plus years out here. And I’m just one person. There are hundreds of you out there still accepting this treatment because you believe some day you’ll get the chance to do what you love.

Consider if it’s really worth it. Consider the long term implications of this mentality. I wish I had stood up for myself sooner. I wish I had realized that no matter how shitty someone treated me that didn’t affect my personal worth. I’m still a writer, I’ll always be a writer, and no one can tell me otherwise. Please, if you’re going through anything similar, remind yourself that you’re worth more.

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(And for the love of all that is good in this world, please do yourself a favor and NEVER order this food item)

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Not a relevant image but it makes me giggle.

Nick and Vanessa: I’m Sorry, But I Need to Tear You a New One.

I was going to attempt a movie review today- but instead I’m going to focus on a newly formed “couple” who got a lot of buzz a week or so ago, but I’m still clinging to this material because I watched the finale on Sunday. I live under the false assumption that everyone who watches the Bachelor realizes just how fake it is. The more I pry my head out of my own “Unscripted Television” ass, the more I realize that many people don’t comprehend just how far from “reality” this Garbage Island of a show is. Taking this moment to formally compare The Bachelor to the Dumpsite in the Pacific that apparently is the size of Texas. Click here for more information

People say subtle things like:

“You could totally tell Nick loved Vanessa all along.”

“I think he has WAY stronger feelings for Raven!”

“Nick finally found love!”

I’m going to give my thoughts on the absurdity of the above exclamations, but I can’t even begin to scratch the surface of the mind-fuckery at play in this series. Full disclosure- I had preworkout again this morning for the first time in a while and my brain is all over the nuts and who knows where that will take us. Go ahead and hop aboard the Magic School Bus! We’re taking a dive into the Digestive System!!!!

Side note: If you aren’t following me on Snapchat, feel free to scoot on over and gimme an add. I did a tutorial of how to unclog a swampy-ass drain last night and I’ve gotten some good feedback on it. I’m going to continue posting tutorials on the daily for as long as I can think of good ones. So there’s my shameless plug- go check out my Snapchat story!

 

Let me preface this entire analysis with one key piece of wisdom that you must grasp…

 

Virtually NONE of the Contestants Are On the Show to “Find Love”

Big Beak aka Chris Harrison constantly uses this language for a reason- it has a hypnotic effect both on the viewer and on the contestants. The more you are primed with this concept the more your brain starts to contextualize what it’s seeing. I’m not gonna cite any resources because, fuck that- you’re reading my opinion not the DSM-IV. Also, every aspect of this show is produced like a soap opera. It’s undeniably fairytale-like for the majority of the episodes. (Barring the ones where they shovel livestock turds on a farm in Wisco… SIDE NOTE: My uncle knows the farmer who they filmed that episode on…If that’s not the most Midwestern thing you’ve ever heard me say…) Can’t fault them- they make the show look beautiful.

All of that being said- this is the highest rated show on ABC, one of the “Big 5” networks. The audience remains consistent and the rating is steady year after year- even competing with live athletic events on occasion. There are millions of eyeballs on this shitstorm, that’s pretty fucking impressive considering we’re experiencing the downfall of the network system as we know it.

A contestant’s reason for coming on the show may vary, but generally it has little to do with them having a realistic expectation of falling in love with the lead. Typical reasons?

  • Exposure: Especially important for small business owners (think personal trainers, salon owners, boutique owners, vague ‘entrepreneurs’ and aspiring dolphin trainers.)
  • Fame: Goes hand in hand with the first one- a lot of these people think they have that “it” factor to become a model or actress. Too bad most of them will fail. Too bad none of us really have that “it” factor and it’s all a matter of luck, timing, and whose bum you can tickle in Hollywood. (Am I bitter? I might be.)
  • Instagram Whoring: They see other former contestants do it, they want in. Some of these contestants get a fuckload of followers and therefore get paid to promote trash products on their social media pages. Yum. I wanna sell me some subscription vegan meal delivery services using photos of me frolicking in a corn field! #TrueCornVegan
  • Travel: Of all the reasons, this one makes the most sense to me. Free vacation all over the world staying in luxury hotels? Sign me up. Except for the whole dating the same guy as 45 other women thing. Sounds like a bad night at the Harvard Finals Clubs.

 

With that in mind, let’s talk about Nick and Vanessa. I’ll start with Nick.

 

Nick Viall, 36 (I think?): His last name is Viall for Christ sake… He’s about the most disgusting human being who has ever slugged his slimy body across your TV screen. And can we just remind ourselves for a second: This is his FOURTH time appearing on the franchise? They’re spinning the whole “Poor Nick can’t find love!” narrative when he’s actually the one who rejected someone in Paradise so that he could be the Bachelor. COOL NICK. With what authority do YOU get to reject people in paradise?

I also don’t really get the appeal of a 36 year old former blue-collar software salesman from Waukesha Wisconsin…(Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if Nick’s resume included a late 20’s prolonged managerial stint at the Radio Shack at Fox River Mall in Appleton.) If he weren’t specially groomed for TV and paired frequently next to Chris “Bad Dye Job, Toucan Beak For a Nose” Harrison I think he could pass for a tiny-dicked (may be true) neckbeard locked away in his dark Wisconsin basement making sexually repressed and hateful remarks about women on r/redpill.

Just my two-cents. The guy has been on the show four times for no reason other than to be famous… He is taking acting lessons. He is going to be on Dancing With the (Well at Least They Tried Their Best and ALMOST Made It) “Stars.” If he has anything to do with it, he will not be leaving your screens anytime soon. In fact, Nick wants to move into your living room so you can stare at him all day every day and tell him how pretty he is. Just like my fatass cat Max used to do when we watched the Price is Right. Except at least Max KNEW he was only there for us to laugh at during commercial breaks.

Vanessa Grimaldi, 29: I really don’t know what to tell you about her. I think she lives on a different planet than the rest of us. She doesn’t seem like the type to seek fame after this, but she does seem like the type who came on the Bachelor to “win” the Bachelor. I think she might have gotten suckered into applying by friends and family who truly believe the show is real… Then when she arrived it became real.

Vanessa seems easily manipulated and highly suggestible, due to some extreme insecurity. She was the classic contestant who doesn’t seem to remember what she signed up for. She was aware other girls existed but in denial that any of them “formed meaningful connections” with Nick. But the reality was that NONE of them formed “meaningful connections.” They formed artificial ones, and for whatever reason… Hers lasted longest.

I usually skip the finale of every season because I read spoilers and by that point I’m bored by everything happening in the unbearably long final episode… But because the After the Final Rose was so controversial (and hilarious) this year I decided to watch the entire finale.

I think the hardest pill for everyone to swallow while watching the show, is how genuine the two people sound as they’re exchanging words at the…. Pulpit? (Like honestly what do you call the weird room where he proposes?) I had a very hard time watching Nick say all of the shit he said to Vanessa, knowing approximately none of it was real.

I think in that moment those two probably felt a lot for each other, but not because they’re in love… Probably for some of, if not ALL of the below reasons:

  • They’re sexually attracted to each other
  • They just shared extravagant experiences together in a foreign country
  • They’re constantly being primed by producers to believe that they’re falling in love (Vanessa more so than Nick, he’s a seasoned veteran at this point and has lost the ability to feel emotions)
  • There are literally cameras all around them…I imagine it feels similar to performing on stage.
  • Both of them are wearing clothes they could never afford in real life (3 years of Nick’s Radio Shack salary couldn’t have afforded him that snazzy tux) and have probably had their makeup done professionally (I’m fully convinced Nick demands extensive contouring and expert-level beard grooming before any appearance in public.)  They look about as attractive as they possibly could ever look, they only have downhill ahead.

Not only do all of these things cause heightened emotions… They also create a scenario that is entirely unrealistic. When you strip all of those things away, and it’s just Vanessa and Nick sitting next to each other on a couch and no one is talking about them… What do you have? Two people who are stubborn, overconfident (to the point of cockiness), fame-hungry, superficial… And bored. The sex was probably fun for a month or two, but from what I’ve heard… Nick has a voracious appetite and even at 36 does not plan on settling down anytime soon. Use it or lose it am I rite Nicky-Boiiii? Nah, he will be like Hugh Hefner and keep on rockin till the day he don’t wake up.

The success of Nick and Vanessa has very little to do with Nick and Vanessa as people. It has everything to do with going on a television show, “dating” someone for 6 weeks and spending about a total of 24 quality hours with them TOPS and then deciding to get engaged with the intention of having a highly publicized wedding. If I can’t even get a dude who I hand select from Bumble to stick around for more than a month, how the fuck does any woman expect a slimy Nick Viall to marry her and stay faithful/devoted/speak real words to her?

The answer, kids… Don’t go on The Bachelor if you’re looking 4 love. In fact, avoid Los Angeles in general if you’re looking for it.

-Seacrest Out!

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(Lovers in the moooooonlight)

 

 

 

 

 

Chad 4 Bachelor 4 Lyfe

Happy Tuesday! Time to talk shit about my favorite show, The Bachelorette. Talya, Mary and I sat through it last night so that you wouldn’t have to. Because I know that was on your list of things you wanted to do on your sordid Monday night after a long day at the office.

Well this season is bad. So bad, that my mom thinks she CAN’T EVEN watch it anymore. And just to give you a frame of reference on that- my mom is a HUGE fan of Dancing With the Stars… So yeah she’s one of the few people who still watches live network television (crying smiley emoji.)

JoJo… I like you, you’re pretty. But every single time you speak I have to repeat what you say in a mocking voice. I hate myself for it, but I can’t help it. I really hope I don’t sound like her when I’m around men. Granted, she is on television and she has to appear bubbly and cute and aloof like America’s Dream Woman should act. But at the same time… I get vibes of Fran Drescher with helium?

Let’s talk about what EVERYONE actually cares about. Chad.

The show is SO boring, with so little draaaama, that the producers went all in with the Chad storyline. For all non viewers, let me describe Chad for you… (AKA my dream man)

  • Chad is the only contestant in history to be SHOWN ON CAMERA partaking in the various hors devours offerings at the cocktail party.
    • In case you didn’t fully understand what I just said…Chad ate a horrifying amount of deli meat at the cocktail party.
      • I don’t think you get what I’m saying. He PILED UP A JUICY MOUND OF COCKTAIL MEAT on his plate while the other MEATHEADS watched in horror.
        • Do you realize how bad it is when other meatheads are horrified by the amount of meat another meathead is consuming? That’s a ludicrous amount of meat. That’s an amount of meat I can’t even conjure up in my darkest dreams.
  • Chad doesn’t take shit from anyone. Chad tells it like it is.
    • He called out Evan for being a pussy bitch (his job title is ‘Erectile Dysfunction Specialist’ need I say more?)
    • He called out Jordan Rodgers for being a FAILED NFL QUARTERBACK. Which is what he is… Sorry Jordan, you’re not even a legitimate human compared to your brother.
    • He called out the short former military guy for being a chode, which is exactly what he is. I can’t be bothered to learn his name.
  • Chad thinks reality TV should be REAL.
  • Chad takes massive amounts of performance enhancing drugs.
  • Chad thinks Chad is the handsomest, biggest, strongest man in the house.
  • Chad gets mad AND gets even.
  • If Chad can’t lift weights, he will MURDER someone.
  • Chad is here for the right reasons.
  • Chad ate an entire yam, raw. Not kidding. Then he nibbled on some lettuce.
  • They hired additional security staff because of Chad, to make sure that he didn’t hurt any of the other contestants.
  • Chris Harrison pulled Chad aside and told him that he needs to cool down or else he’s kicked off the show. Because he fears for the other men’s safety.
  • Chad is Hulk, on roids.

 

Why do I love Chad so much? Because Chad, at some point in the process, forgot he was on a reality television show. He forgot he was being filmed, he thought he was just in a totally normal REAL LIFE scenario where he’s competing with 20 other men to date one girl.

At every turn in the show, he seems utterly perplexed and distraught. As if he didn’t know what to expect in the process. He acts like an innocent (and angry) bystander who never watched the Bachelorette prior to signing up.

“You want me to go on a DATE with 19 other DUDES? I’m not doin that!” Chad uttered words that few men who survive the first round ever utter. But to be fair… if this were “reality” television, any guy would say that. Chad is just being HONEST.

Once he gets on the group date, the men corner Chad. They decide they’re going to OUT him for his ROIDY WAYS in front of JoJo. So they nominate the pansiest man of the bunch, Evan, to give a pointed talk on the drawbacks of excessive steroid use. You know, since Evan is a DICK EXPERT AND ALL.

As you can imagine, this did NOT sit well with Chad. In other words, Chad Angry. Chad VERY ANGRY. When Chad got up from his seat at the theater (I’m not going to explain what the group date was because I don’t think it adds to my narrative) to give his presentation, he passed by Evan and yanked his shirt, ripping it down the center in the process. Honestly, good for you Chad. He deserved that, he SUCKS. And he’s the father to TWO children. What kind of example is he setting for his kids by bullying someone about their steroid use? And going on a DATING SHOW…

Chad awkwardly brings JoJo on stage with him and tries to kiss her but she turns her cheek. It’s cool tho, he brushes it off quickly, it happens to the best of us.

Just kidding, Chad punches a door so hard that his knuckles bleed from the impact. Then he lunges at Evan and says “Imma kill you!” You can’t PAY for television this good. Chad is a caged beast waiting to be let free. He will kill at the first sight of BLOOD.

My favorite part of the entire episode, though, is when JoJo announces that Evan received the Group Date Rose and all the men golf clap and smile. Except Chad. Chad goes:

“Are you fucking kidding me? Evan? Evan doesn’t win ANYTHING!” And everyone watches in horror. Granted, he said what they were all thinking, but still… Chad lives in the REAL WORLD.

JoJo says “You’re being RUDE and I don’t like it!”

Chad says “I’m sorry, I’m just being HONEST!”

Which is more than anyone else can say for their SORRY ASSES on that show. I love Chad.

At the very end of the episode, Chris Harrison announces that instead of a cocktail party they’ll be having an all day pool party. All the guys get excited for their first glimpse of sideboob in weeks. But not Chad, Chad is waaaaaay above sideboob. Chad goes…

“What? I don’t need to see her in a swimmsuit, I can imagine what she looks like through those dresses.”

Cheers to Chad. He would make the best Bachelor and if he doesn’t get the gig I will be SORELY disappointed.

JoJo, you’re blind for not seeing what Chad has to offer you in a relationship/marriage.

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