Of course, The Bachelor has spawned The Bachelorette and the soon-to-arrive Bachelor Pad. (Yes, they all have space allotted on my TiVo.) And I can laugh that I saw Jake and Vienna during what was likely one of their last public appearances together before their big split. (That was June 10th at the Disneyland World of Color world premiere.)

But here's my big confession - I don't just eat up the prime-time reality shows. On occasion, I also watch some of those ridiculous daytime ones, like the silly medical reenactment drama I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. Why? Well, in this specific case, it is pure validation. After all, my first birth was one of those "maternal failure to progress" ones that ended in a vacuum. There were many stumbles during labor and delivery, and I came out of the experience feeling defeated. Medical professionals and family members alike made it seem that I was indeed a "failure" and that I couldn't handle "a little discomfort."

Well, sure, these television dramas are meant to evoke drama, so of course the actors are screaming their heads off. But the real-life people say in their interviews that they experienced "intense pain," or they moan "I thought I was going to die," and other such things that indicate that severe discomfort during contractions is real. Some say that the pain of labor is purely "hysterical" and largely anticipatory, but if someone doesn't know that they are pregnant, why would they then experience pain?

Fortunately for my second birth, I handled labor much differently, partially because I knew what to expect, but mainly because I took all the textbook "advice" and threw it in the trash. Nonetheless, I occasionally like to watch "birth shows" - both to get my "baby fix" and to remind myself that people find success in different labor methods, so I shouldn't feel hurt when people talk about those of us who have "failed" at labor.

Another of my guilty-pleasure shows is True Beauty. It is indeed fun to catch people cheating, especially when they blatantly defy instructions. But a few of the character tests have been rather ambiguous:

A couple weeks ago, a frazzled and apparently stinky man (an actor) came up to the contestants wondering if they were famous. If I had been in their situation, I would have moved away from the man out of a safety concern, not out of an effort to be unkind or holier-than-thou. Responding to people in a friendly way usually prompts the person to continue the conversation. So although I may have attempted a quick, "Nope, I'm not famous!" I probably wouldn't have beamed brightly or otherwise "invited" further interaction. I think in this situation, it would have been far easier for a male contestant to "pass" the test by saying, "No dude, I'm not famous!" than a (scantily-dressed) female contestant to respond similarly.

Then last night, each contestant rode in an elevator with a "pregnant" woman (an actor, of course) who was simultaneously drinking a cocktail and smoking a cigarette. Would they reprimand the mother-to-be? No way would I stick my nose in someone else's business! And so, I would have "failed" this character test. Sure, drinking and smoking are terrible for her future baby, but I certainly wouldn't specifically speak to a stranger. I'd assume she knew the dangers, and would anticipate that if she were the sort to ignore medical advice, she certainly wouldn't take criticism with a smile. Why get in a fight with someone who already displays poor judgment? Furthermore, what if the gal wasn't actually pregnant, but carried excessive weight out front?

About ten years ago, as I went to my own maternity appointment, I passed by a hugely pregnant lady outside smoking. Seeing her made me immediately uncomfortable, but I didn't say anything to her. (I did mention it to the nurse inside, who just gave me a harsh look, as if to tell me to mind my own business.) This lady was super-skinny everywhere else, so it is unlikely that she was just "fat" in the abdomen. Still, I wouldn't think that "reprimanding" her or otherwise approaching her would have been a good idea. Guess I'm not a "true beauty."

And then I remember the time that I tried to help a man, but onlookers essentially laughed at me.

I saw a confused but well-dressed man sitting on the curb in front of a flower store. He kept getting up, looking around, and then - starting to faint - would sit back down. I went into the flower store to call for help. I asked him questions, but he couldn't (or wouldn't) answer. I worried he was having a stroke or was otherwise in danger, but other people laughed. He's just drunk, they said. And probably it was true. But I didn't want him walking into the middle of the street or getting hurt. The people in the flower store said that it made no sense to pull an ambulance out of service for that guy when someone else might "really" need it. And the cops were busy with "real" problems. Honestly, I don't remember the end of the story, because after waiting for about a half hour, I was seriously late to an appointment, so had to go.

Around the same time, I saw a toddler walking alone down a city block. When I stooped down to ask him where his mommy was, she suddenly materialized and yelled at me to get away from her son. Points to her for responding fairly quickly - so I guess she did see him, but points to me for at least attempting to help.

Unfortunately, many "in public" situations are not so clear cut. "Stepping in" can definitely be seen as "interfering," so a would-be good gesture can instead be seen as a rude one. So, sorry True Beauty, but I don't think all of your tests are really appropriate tests of positive character. (In fact, the rather rude already-booted contestant "Liz" probably would have said something snarky to the "pregnant" gal out of superiority and a desire to belittle, but I guess that would have been seen as a "pass.")

Okay, so these reality shows are silly, and they provoke brainstorms of rather trivial-in-the-end matters, but I ride the ride even so!