A couple of days ago I stumbled across an article that said Sean’s season of the Bachelor is the 25th season (you can read it here). I had an internal panic attack. You mean to tell me I’ve watched 25 seasons of this
ridiculousness gem? I’ve lost years of my life watching this??
Sadly, yes. Yes, I have. I’ve seen every single season (and every stinking episode) since it aired in 2002. 11 years ago! I was only 16 years old.
Imagine the things I could have done in 11 years:
- written a best-selling novel
- found a cure to cancer (I’m not sure which type of cancer)
- gone to college and law school (actually, I did those things)
- run a marathon (oh wait, I did that too. Now I’m just bragging)
- invented Facebook BEFORE Mark or the Winklevoss twins
- discovered Pluto isn’t actually a planet (sorry Pluto!)
- prevented the BP oil spill
- learned how to strum some cords on the guitar while belting out Michelle Branch’s “All You Wanted” better than one of my sisters
Really, the list is endless. And while maybe I didn’t accomplish most of those things, the Bachelor provided a lasting memory at a crucial moment in my adolescence.
In the Spring of 2003, my three sisters and I decided to meet in Vail for a ski trip. My oldest sister and I drove all the way to Colorado from Wisconsin, where we met our other two sisters (who had the luxury of flying). Part of the reason we had to drive is because my mom practically strong-armed me into applying to college at Creighton in Omaha, Nebraska. I was utterly distraught at the prospect of moving to Nebraska but my mom insisted we stop and tour the campus. And we did. We happened to arrive on a beautiful spring day that only a true Midwesterner can appreciate. It was unseasonably warm, low 70’s and bright blue skies. I was sold.
We continued on our journey to the Rockies and the skiing was underway. Until it wasn’t. I decided I needed medical attention and an oxygen tank. I’m sure my sisters called my mom and told her NEXT TIME the youngest needs to stay home. Since my hour of skiing did me in, my oldest sister (my road trip companion) and I decided our time would be better spent shopping in the cute little Vail village. Umm hello, have you met me? Shopping is always preferable to athletics! As we perused the shops my sister spotted a celeb. And it wasn’t just ANY celeb. It was RYAN from the Bachelor! As in Trista and Ryan.
I threw off my oxygen tank and marched up to him. We chitchatted about Trista, I secured my wedding invite, and we snapped this darling photo.
(Actually, it’s sort of the opposite of darling. What 17-year-old wears pigtails? And couldn’t I have put on some makeup? I think Ryan would find 27-year-old Kate much much more attractive.)
I couldn’t wait to get home and get my film developed (yes, film). A short while later, my phone rang (one of those giant Nokia cell phones) and it was my mom. She told me I had received a letter awarding me full tuition to Creighton.
My fate was sealed. I still have the shirt I bought that day in Vail (perhaps time to do more shopping?), the original picture with Ryan, and two degrees from Creighton.