On The Bachelor (Or, How I Stopped Worrying and...nah, I'm still worrying)

My sister watches The Bachelor (Australia).

I am currently living with said sibling, so? Now, I watch The Bachelor (Australia).

"Hay quorl" #beige

Before this, I had never had the pleasure of catching an episode of this somewhat cultural zeitgeist, mainly due to not bothering to have free-to-air TV and not being interested enough to "procure" it in other ways. In the past, I've liked me some reality TV - I remember being very invested in Casey Donovan's turn on Australian Idol, and occasionally Big Brother in the beginning. As I got older, and as foreign TV became more easily "procured", I simply stopped watching reality TV as a whole. My reintroduction to the genre has left me a little baffled, a lot intrigued and mostly conflicted.

I get the on-paper concept of The Bachelor - hot guy with semi-bland personality gets to live a wet dream of dating 16 hot women. But it's so much more than that. The dating aspect, and The Bachelor himself, often take a backseat to the real shit show - Hot Women vs Hot Women: Now in Prime Time!

It's a feminist nightmare and a cultural studies student's dream.

There's no middle ground on The Bachelor. The women are effectively edited into tight little constructs; easy-to-read personality stereotypes that colour ninety minutes of your life, twice a week on Channel Ten. There's the Bitch, the Sporty One, the Quirky One, the One Who Is Impossibly Normal So You Don't Actually See Her At All (sorry, Rachel). They're characters, plied with alcohol and shoved into an impossible situation for your enjoyment.

It sucks you in, because it's designed to.

Two sides to every Emily. (Source)

Current contestant Emily Simms has broken protocol by calling out the producers of the show for portraying her as something she believes she's not - the Villain, the Bitch, the Boring Princess. It's smart editing and sneaky asides - her "war" with forerunner (the Quirky One) Heather Maltman and other girls in the house is perfect fodder for the proverbial water cooler because it's a TV narrative from the Gods. Hot, high maintenance bitchy girl hates hot, down-to-earth quirky girl? Your opinions are made for you with one use of the slice tool in Final Cut Pro.

As a lover of good, OTT dramatic TV, it's fun to watch. As a feminist, it's frustrating and embarrassing. My sister and I have these strange exchanges while watching it - "ohmigod, I can't stand Emily." "Yeah, she's a bitch." "It's probably all editing, though." "Oh, totally, which sucks. She's probably just strong and knows what she wants."

Maybe I'm overthinking. Maybe that's exactly what it is - a problematic mess we ultimately enjoy (while feeling guilty for doing so); and that's okay.

Still, I can't say I will continue watching this season. The suspension of belief is too hard, as is the knowledge I'm contributing to the ratings. It's not me being self-righteous; you can enjoy problematic things while knowing they're problematic. But these are real women, with real personalities, I'd prefer to watch that show. The Bachelor: Everyone is Nice and Interesting For Who They Are.

The simple fact is, it's time to stop pitting women against each other for entertainment. The boy's club that is the film and TV industry needs to start acknowledging that using women as caricatures is lazy and uninspired.

A pipe dream, maybe. After all, that's not good TV, right?

EDIT: While writing this, it was revealed that Emily and Bec Chin (who admitted to meeting Bachelor Sam before filming) have left the house due to bullying. Good on them.

Posted in feminism, The Bachelor AU, TV

Coming Home.

The best place to start is not quite at the beginning, but at the new beginning.

Kawasaki City, Kawasaki. From here...

From December 2012 to July 2015, I lived in the Kanto area of Japan. Firstly in Katsushika, a special ward of Tokyo, then Kawasaki, Kanagawa. Almost three years. My decision to come home was based on a lot of factors - family, my rapidly degrading mental health, money and the fact it was near impossible to save money or live well as an English teacher - good reasons, excellent ones.

I still felt like a failure.

There is a set design for life. We're taught this from a young age; media in all forms presents it as the ideal. You have a wonderful childhood, you grow up, you go to university, leave home, get married, have a career, a billion kids, retire and die. It's a nice frame work, sure, but one I have never really followed closely. I liked that. I liked my autonomy and independence; it's what propelled me forward when my mental health and circumstance held me back.

So even though this was the case, I still felt the failure of returning from The Really Big Adventure empty-handed (metaphorically; there's thirteen boxes on a shipping container making its way to Australia that proves I'm physically not empty-handed from my time in Japan). Some days, it drips from me. It permeates conversation and inner dialogues. It feels like, sometimes, it's on a sign hanging around my neck. Tried, Failed. "Where do you live?" "Oh, halfway between my sister, mother and abject failure." "Do you speak fluent Japanese?" "No, no." It's solid and scary; but - and this is the important part I must emphasise for you guys and myself - it's also all in my head.

I haven't missed Japan much. Sure, I miss aspects of it. I miss my friends, and going to concerts. I miss magazines and Suica cards. Oh gosh, I miss Cash on Delivery and Japan Post, you have no idea. By and large, however, I just don't miss it - and this is exactly why I had to come home.

...to here. Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.

Don't get me wrong. I know coming home was the best decision for me. I was miserable in Japan, and not just because the bread was awful. I can't articulate it, not quite yet, but I'm working through it. By coming home, I will (and am) facing my demons and fixing past mistakes, while also focusing on myself. I'm communicating and laughing and eating and job searching and feeling valued. I am happier, and it's only been a month and a bit. But that feeling of failure and missing those small things still hangs, and I have to open up the windows of my noggin and air it out like a musty smell.

I'll get there. "You'll get there." (Thanks, Disembodied Voice.)

So that's why I started this blog. One to talk about my time in Japan, and my journey coming home; two to highlight what I love about myself and my life. I'm a funny little creature who's learning to be honest about herself, and I hope to drag you all along for the ride.

Here's to Tired Mouths (and moi!). Please stay tuned.

Posted in Coming Home, Japan, Mental Health