I don’t know about you, but I plan to spend the last two of days of 2016 surrounded by friends, gay ladies and lots and lots of bubbly. Granted, I probably won’t be as dapperly attired as these ladies from yesteryear. Nor do I pretend I can attain their level of elegant mirth. But, goodness, if we won’t try. See you on the flip side, kittens. Goodbye and good riddance, 2016. Here is hoping for happy and joyfully defiant 2017, all.
I keep meaning to leave you lovely Vacation Vixens to enjoy, but then real life keeps interrupting my holiday and rudely demanding I write about it. Yesterday’s news of Debbie Reynolds’ passing was almost too much to bear. A mother passing one day after her daughter. It’s the cruelty of this year I can’t get over. It just keeps finding new and more terrible ways to break our hearts. While the travails of their sometimes fraught relationship were all-too familiar (though, if you have to make a movie about it, definitely get Meryl Streep and Shirley MacLaine to play you), you never doubted the affection there. It was real and it was encompassing. May we take comfort in the fact that both Debbie and Carrie’s legacies live on, as does their love. Goodnight, Ms. Reynolds. Thanks for the endless good mornings.
p.s. Let it not be forgotten that Debbie Reynolds was headlining AIDS benefits in the early 80s, years before our president at the time would even utter the word. And she could sing. And she could dance. And damn it the lady couldn’t act up a storm.
This fucking year. This infernal fucking year. This year has taken our heroes away one by one. And while all deaths are sad, some cut deeper and mean more. Quite simply, some just hurt. It hurts to lose Carrie Fisher. Terribly.
We all knew her as the galaxy’s rebel princess. And then its fearless general. But she was always so much more. A wonderful writer. A tireless activist. A tremendous wit. An entirely human human. She was honest, so very honest, about everything – especially her flaws. But honesty is not the same as apology. Because she never apologized for being herself. Not for living with mental illness. Not for daring to gain weight while famous. Not for the audacity of aging while a woman. She wasn’t here for any of our bullshit, but she also understood it all too well. Yet she retained her joyful heart and her endless good humor through it all.
As one of my earliest and greatest heroines, she will always be the one who – quite literally – strangled the enormous slug of patriarchy with its own oppressive chains. She may not be our only hope, but she was perhaps our most indelible hope. If I take anything away from this odious year it will be the reminder to be the Leia you want to see in the world. Thank you, Carrie. You were a true hero for this galaxy, and all others whether near or far, far away.
As you know, I don’t write about the fellas too often on ye olde blog. But George Michael wasn’t just any fella. He was The Fella of my 80s childhood. I can’t tell you how many times I danced to “Faith” or the oh-so-scandalous “I Want Your Sex” in my bedroom. Or how much I sang in the mirror to “Father Figure” or “Praying for Time.” And that “Freedom! ‘90” video. *low whistle* Let’s just say the future gay in me was very appreciative of the lip-synching supermodels. Very. It’s been a terrible year for so many reasons. As if our current geo-political hellscape wasn’t enough, we lost far too many of the people who helped make our universe just a little more bearable. David Bowie. Prince. Now George Michael. These were complex men who helped redefine, and gloriously bend, what it meant to be a man. To be honest, I didn’t expect his death to hit me this way. But I spend the entire morning the day after Christmas watching his music videos and crying – just a little. As a kid, I didn’t know how to articulate the strange kinship I felt with him. Though kinship might not be the right word – aspiration is more like it. He was so exquisite in a way that transcended masculinity and femininity. He was just so beautiful. And, as I got older, I admired how unabashed and unapologetic he was about his sexuality. It was beautiful and brave. But now all that beauty is gone and the world is a little less bright. And now, after his death, we are hearing stories of the true depth of his beautiful, generous heart as well. Goodbye, beautiful prince. Thank you for the music and for making this world a better place than how you found it.
How was your Christmas? Appropriately merry, I hope. This is the first holiday season in quite some time I won’t be traveling. So that means no missed flights, no getting snowed in, no chance encounters with famous lesbian singing twins. So perhaps I just might steal Cameron and Rhea’s idea for a Melissa McCarthy movie day. Or I could just watch “Ghostbusters” over and over and over again and make it a McCarthy-McKinnon movie day.
I have watched this almost every Christmas for, well, decades. It’s filled with joy, wonder and sweet melancholy – often just like the holidays themselves. May this season be filled with so much joy, all of the wonder and just the sweetest (and gentlest) of melancholy. Merry Christmas or happy whatever you celebrate this season. And have a very merry weekend, all.
Please allow Dame Helen Mirren to send you her warmest, most heartfelt and truthful regards this Christmas. (Skip to 0:55 if you want to get right to Helen and miss Will Smith pinching Graham's hiney.)
Well, someone has to save Christmas – and this year. Good thing we can always count on Dyke & Fats. Come on, be honest. You’d totally watch the hell out of this show.
p.s. We are all Les Dykawitz. Les Dykawitz is all of us.
Patti Smith singing “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” a the Nobel Prize ceremony earlier this month. A hard rain's a-coming, America. We'd better get ready.
Today is our democracy’s last shot to stop The Hate Pumpkin from becoming President of the United States of America. Granted, I have no expectations that a swath of pure partisans will suddenly find their long-lost consciences and become the Hamilton Electors our Founding Fathers envisioned. But, hey, let’s dream while we still can. Can he outlaw dreaming? Just in case, best to get yours in before Jan. 20.
The Electoral College has always been a point of controversy. Its creation is steeped in the hypocrisies of our democratic experiment. First, the Founding Fathers weren’t so sure the actual electorate would make the right choice – so they devised a fail safe. Hence, the electors. And second, the Founding Fathers had this whole ugly slavery thing happening. The Northern states had a larger voting population. So the Southern States wanted to count their slaves among their population – even though they were considered property and clearly not allowed to vote - so they could wield more political power. The result was the inhumane three-fifth compromise which decided state’s allocations in the Electoral College and House of Representatives.
Both these reasons seem to run contrary to our county’s ideals of freedom and democratic rule. We the people, not we the disenfranchised and/or we the hand-selected political elites.
And yet, here we are. Where it is a crazy pipe dream to believe faithless electors will do the right thing and save us from this unhinged, unqualified, hate-filled megalomaniac who is so petty he picks fights with people writing bad reviews about his restaurant. But the reality is, no one is coming to save us. Not the electors. Not Obama. Not Hillary (though, heavens knows, she deserves the down time and space to wander in the woods).
The only thing giving me any solace is the fact that America actually didn’t vote for this guy. He actually lost by 2.84 million votes. To put that in perspective that is more than the total populations of Wyoming, Vermont, North Dakota and South Dakota – combined. These are just the facts, no matter how hard the Deplorable try to conspiracy theory them away.
The truth is Trump didn’t win the vote. He won unevenly weighed geographical regions designed historically to help slave holders.
Keep saying that over and over. And out loud. And with pride - and more than a little anger. Because there are more of us than them. Really. So let’s not roll over and let them smash everything we hold dear. We must save ourselves. Resist.
p.s. Though there is also always this to consider. Because at Christmas you tell the truth. Just in cases.
I’ve decided that my aesthetic for 2017 is going to be Queer Women Calmly Dismissing Dudes Who Can’t Take a Fucking Hint. Like, ladies, we have all been there. We have all endured this exact same situation. We have all been interrupted when we are just trying to enjoy each other’s company. Yes, all queer women. In fact, all women – period. But you know what, in this Grab ‘Em By The Pussy Age we have to be even more resolute in standing our ground. Men who are not invited into our spaces need to get the fuck out. So, dudes, you are officially on notice. Speak when spoken to. Interject when invited. But do not assume your presence is exactly what’s missing whenever a woman, two women, a group of women are sitting somewhere. Because, in fact, in almost every instance the exact opposite it true. Yes, dudes. Really. Happy weekend, all – but especially all you ladies.
In the waning days of 2016, as the light fades and a future filled with only more darkness looms, let us remember the things we can always rely on. The majority of Americans did not want The Hate Pumpkin to be president, by 2.84 million votes. Cate Blanchett’s existence is proof there is a higher power and she wants lesbians to be happy. And vintage Hollywood female stars in tuxedos make almost anything better. At least for a little while.
Hey, what if that movie about “relational aggression among girls” was really just subterfuge for a simmering lesbian romance? Well, wonder no more. Because “Mean Girl” the remix is “Carol” for the high school set. But really, deep down, aren’t we all just too gay to function?
This is just 18 unadulterated minutes of Tina Fey being Tina Fey. And, of course, I love it. So please enjoy My Fake TV (And Movie) Wife talking about what it is to be a woman in Hollywood while accepting the Sherry Lansing Leadership Award at The Hollywood Reporter’s annual Women in Entertainment breakfast. Feel free to skip Hamm talking (Tina takes the stage at 6:20). Also, feel free to watch the moment at 13:35 over and over and over (and over) again. I sure did. Bonus points for how she repeatedly takes little pot shots at Ryan Murphy. You know, with love. That’s my gal.
By now, no doubt, you have seen the Beginning/End of 2016 memes. They're sadly very, very accurate. But I thought I would add my own, because if a thin-skinned reality TV star can get Russia's help to become president, I can do - well - just about anything I want. Why not? Nothing matters! *laughs hysterically dissolving into sobs* *and repeat* Anyway, I thought I would gay up my contribution because, at least until Jan. 20, I am free to be as gay gaggity gay gay as I want in America. With all apologies to Lena Headey, who is so much better than 2016 would imply, here goes.
One of the few things bringing me real and consistent joy in the hellscape that has been 2016 is the set photos from “Ocean’s 8.” The lady power spinoff of “Ocean’s 11” continues to delight. Like, for real, every picture is so damn delightful. And I hope they delight you as much as they delight me. Happy delightful weekend, all.
Helena Bonham Carter threatening Anne Hathaway’s life. Delightful!
Rihanna wearing an “I’m With Her. And Her.” T-shirt. Delightful!
Sarah Paulson doing anything. Always delightful!
Cate Blanchett and Sandra Bullock kissing while wearing Anne Hathaway masks. Weirdly delightful!
Cate Blanchett’s arm porn. OK, that’s just hot. Delightfully hot.
I’ve been trying to decide what to call the unhinged orange toddler we’ve somehow elected to the most powerful position in the free world. He lost the popular vote by 2.7 million (and counting), and he sure as hell isn’t my president. So finally I’ve settled on a fitting title. For the next four years, he may rise to the highest office in the land, but he will always be just The Hate Pumpkin to me.
p.s. Hey, if we can’t laugh at our most terrible of presidential predicaments we’ll, well, it's physically not possible to cry for 1,460 days straight, is it?
p.p.s. For the few of you suggesting nothing will change for LGBT folks under The Hate Pumpkin, you do realize ever single one of his cabinet nominees so far has been staunchly anti-LGBT, right? And you also realize he will be in charge of nominating federal judges and Supreme Court justices and has promised to deliver on Scalia-like far-right selections, right? And you realize he can immediately reverse all of President Obama’s executive orders protecting LGBT federal workers and contractors, right? And you also realize the GOP is dedicated to passing an extreme anti-LGBT, so-called “religious freedom” bill that would make it legal to discrimination against LGBT folks for religious reasons by governments, hospitals, universities, businesses, etc., right?
Whew, this week kind of got away from me. So if you have not already, please enjoy the Sanvers culmination scene. If you have not been watching Supergirl, may this be your motivation. Or, if you are not caught up yet, well, spoilers. And if you already watched, well, what is once more?
This Twitter thread has been making the rounds. And it is a further reminder why visibility, representation and LGBT stories matter. My God, do they matter.
Have you seen this? I saw the trailer for “The First Girl I Loved” what seems like ages ago (yes, that’s how long ago September seems – forever and all my hope ago). And I was intrigued. But then I forgot it existed because, you know, the world. And now it’s available for download exactly when I could use a little worthy distraction. So, again, I ask – have you seen this? The cast certainly looks good. There’s out actress Brianna Hildebrand (but, ooooof, that wig – too bad she couldn’t just go with her “Deadpool” cut). And I even see a glimpse of Cameron Esposito. Plus there is the whole evoking those totally relatable obsessive first lady love feelings thing. But then there’s that boy. Ugh, there’s always a boy. So, once more with feelings, have you seen this? And should I?
History has a funny way of rewriting itself. Sure, Ellen DeGeneres is America’s Favorite Dancing Lesbian™ now. But it’s easy to forget that just some 20 years ago, she all but disappeared from our screens. Because the truth is 1997 was a lifetime ago culturally. I was in college then. And I remember watching her show’s historic coming-out “Puppy Episode” then. And I remember how singular it was – as basically no one else on television at the time had the guts to lean into a microphone and say, quite simply, “I’m gay” then. But, yep, Ellen did. And then, just a year later, her show was cancelled. And then for years she was relegated to guest spots in things like “Pauley Shore is Dead” and roles like a butchy corndog-chomping detective in “Goodbye Lover” (though, admittedly, she was very funny in that). But then, thanks to “Finding Nemo,” people suddenly remembered she was great again. And that whole gay thing wasn’t such a big deal after all. And sure, they’d love to watch her dance around and smile every afternoon. See, we were OK with The Gay all along. And now here we are 19 years later and she is receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom. But alas, progress isn’t all dancing and awards and prizes hidden under your seat. It’s also the tough years, the stumbles, the regrets and the all-out losses. But we just keep swimming. We have to. Otherwise we don’t get to write our own history. Happy weekend, all.
Well, we made it to December. So now 2016 has one precious month left to redeem itself. So why not start off on a smart and stylish foot. Here are some smart, stylish women looking – well, smart and stylish. Plus they’re all in black in white, which makes them so much more stylish and smart-looking. Yes, I know other adjectives. But November was a doozy so smart and stylish is all my brain can muster right now. But, hey, “smart” and “stylish” suit these suits. Right, as I was saying – good luck, December. Please, at the very least, be so much smarter than the rest of 2016 was. More stylish would just be icing.
