Soap Opera Weekly: Blogging With Mala

True confession time: B&B’s Katie Logan drives me absolutely crazy. Up the wall, back down, and across the street to pick up some Valium. That’s not to say I hate Heather Tom. She’s fantastic and she completely rocked the scenes on the Marlin where Katie told Nick she’s expecting their bundle of adulterous joy. But Katie herself…? Oh, man. Has there ever been a character more undeserving of the worship every single other character in town bestows on her? You’d think Katie found the cure for AIDS, solved World Hunger, and invented Botox. But no, even theForresters, who hate anybody named Logan, adore her simply because she breathes.

Please. It was bad enough that we had to sit through the whole “Boo-hoo, I have Storm’s heart!” debacle, now Katie is a cheating, pregnant liar who shared one night of passion with her niece’s man. (Side note: How good could THAT have been, what with her being near death and all?)

I know viewers were probably supposed to feel sorry for Katie as she cited her selfishness and talked about how she brings misery to everything she touches, but I sure didn’t. “Storm died so I could live, and this just proves that the wrong person died that day,” she bemoaned. I cheered, going, “Yes, you’re right!” Considering how everyone from Brooke to Bridget keeps calling her a “walking miracle,” and talking about how wonderful she is, it’s nice to see someone doesn’t think she’s all that and a bag of heart-healthy chips. Too bad it all comes off as martyrous whining rather than self-awareness.

Then, Katie went off to brood at the railing of the boat. “Why do you hate me?” she wailed at God. “Oh, let me count the ways,” I said to my TV. There was suddenly fog so thick that I thought the Black Pearl was about to dock and belch forth Geoffrey Rush. Only it didn’t. Instead, we got naked Storm. (Nice to know hair growth occurs in Limbo or Purgatory or wherever he’s been.) Naked Storm enticed “woe is me and my cursed fetus!” Katie to jump. Guess what? So did I! And then she did! But the show got my hopes up and then dashed them cruelly. Whyyyyy? Why, B&B? I was so close to never having to put up with Our Lady of the Transplanted Heart again, but it turned out to only be a dream. A dream that helped Katie accept her miracle baby and led to Nick making googly eyes at her. Gag.

The last, fleeting hope I have is for Bridget to kick her auntie’s butt when she finds out about Nick and the Catalina Kid. I want a reveal that makes burning Deacon’s clothes in the trashcan look like a weenie roast in comparison. Heck, she needs to start one of those infamous California brush fires with the heat of her fury. With any luck, Katie can tie herself to a stake and go all Saint Joan.

Ahem.

Anybody have that Valium handy?

 

originally posted on soapoperaweekly.com

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