My Weekend Crush

This month marks the 35 anniversary of Tracy Chapman’s landmark self-titled debut. “Fast Car,” “Baby Can I Hold You,” “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution.” These songs feel like the bedrock of a generation, at least my generation. I grew up after the era of protest songs, but something about Tracy’s music always felt like an intimate, personal protest. “Fast Car” transports you instantly to that car. To that moment. To that weightless feeling of possibility and then the crushing weight of real life. Damn, what a song. What a singer. It’s been 15 years since she has released new music. Who knows if we’ll get any more. But the gift she already gave us will continue to resonate when we’ve all shuttled off this mortal coil, and the sun swallows all of our known existence. Thanks for making us feel like we belonged, Tracy. Happy weekend, all.

So Sappy

I know Mae Martin’s “Feel Good” is good. Objectively, it’s well done. But, for me, it felt too claustrophobic given my proximity to addiction, mental health, toxicity and various neuroses in my romantic, familial and everyday relationships. Sometimes, their issues felt too present and decisions too frustrating to continue. So I didn’t watch Season 2. But I still enjoy Mae Martin’s work. And their new special, “Sap,” is directed by none other than Abbi “Give Her More Than Four Episodes of ALOTO” Jacobson. (Side Note: I’ve noticed that Mae appears to know all of the lesbian celebrities. Which, you know, good work if you can get it.) The nonbinary comic’s new special is also good, very good. Relatable in a way that somehow felt less intense than their show. You can see them puzzle out the world and themselves in real time, which is fascinating. They’re obviously an astute observer of the human condition, with fierce desire not to be categorized or corralled into the old, traditional way of thinking about ourselves and our systems. And, again, relatable. And funny, don’t forget funny. So if you want an hour of queer observation, both inward and outward, be that sap and find it on Netflix.

Stand & Deliver

Can you imagine looking this hot just standing still, in one place, without moving, and casually having your hand in your pocket? Right. Neither can I. Thank Lesbian Jesus for middle-aged actresses. * low whistle forever * Anyway, happy Hump Day. Carry on, if you can.

A Second Bite

I will openly admit one of my kinks is watching beautiful women cook and eat food. So these days the return of “Taste the Nation” is very high on my Things To Be Happy About list (look, sometimes you gotta keep a list because sometimes a person forgets). Padma Lakshmi eating her way through America again? Yeah, I’m suddenly famished. Also, did y’all watch Kristen Kish’s new show “Restaurants at the End of the World?” If not, make it a double-header and watch both. Second dinner sounds good to me right about now, and other stuff.

Music Monday: Happy Blogiversary To Me

Well, well, well. Seventeen years. Almost old enough to vote. But still too young for a cocktail. America, you weirdo about ages. Anyway, it’s my Blogiversary today. Seventeen years ago I decided, gosh, a blog might be fun to write. I can do that. And here we are. I want to thank everyone, as always, for coming back and reading day after day after week after month after year after years. I always want to thank everyone for your stunningly generous support through My Little Life Implosion and its subsequent Fund.

I won’t lie, things are still tough sometimes. More times than I’d like, obviously. And I am still working my way through my inbox and various thank yous because sometimes a seemingly simple task feels altogether impossible. I’ve always had the “impossible task” I’ve dreaded and procrastinated about throughout my life. During high school it was the AP summer school classes I took to get ahead (basically, it meant I felt guilty all summer long for not studying for the end-of-summer test). Like I was saying, I’m working on it.

Right, so, all that was probably too much information about my life. But I just wanted to again thank you for coming back and reading my takes on pop culture and politics and the universe et al. And, if by chance you feel like tipping your host again this blogiversary, well, I will always be thankful for your generosity in all of its forms. I might not get around to saying thank you explicitly like I should. But know, please, how deeply thankful I am for all of the community, support and warm wishes.

How to Donate:

Venmo: @Dorothy-Snarker
Paypal: idgie2@hotmail.com

p.s. Did I deliver on my month-long Music Monday 90s theme with some bookend Alanis or what? And Naked Alanis at that. Happy Monday, kittens.

My Weekend Crush

God, I’m so fucking excited for this big-hearted show to come back. It’s truly a minor miracle we got a second season at all, considering there are queers on this show and it’s on the streamer formerly known as HBO Max. But there’s a dead lesbian in the backstory already, so maybe they thought they’d give this one a mulligan this once. I just can’t say enough about this sweet, quirky, entirely Midwestern look at the oddballs and everyday people among us. The delicious weirdness of family and friendships as adults is treated with an eye for the absurdity — and if we’re lucky, rare ecstasy — of daily life. I just, I just love this show. Catch the second season starting this Sunday and who knows we might even get a third season. Happy Weekend, all.

Get Into My Car

Kittens, should I be watching the new Perry Mason show? Like I had heard the HBO Max (sorry, totally just MAX) series had a lesbian couple in its second season. But, um, I somehow was not expecting the 1930s lavish luxury of it all. The soft, sensual saxophonic score. The gorgeous Auburn convertible (yes, I researched it). The epic golden hour light. I half expect Katharine Hepburn to saunter in in a sensible pair of pants carrying a tray filled with Tom Collins cocktails. But I’ll take this beautifully lit kiss instead. So, yeah, I should maybe start watching this show, no?

p.s. Seriously this is now the sexiest lesbian car committed to screen. Definitely sexier than Carol’s Packard.

Regime Change

Oooh, are you ready for Kate Winslet to be bad again? Like authoritarian fascist regime bad? (Kinda like her character in the Divergent series, but with some European aristocracy attached). “The Regime” (formerly “The Palace”) is a satire that follows “one year within the walls of the palace of a modern European regime as it begins to unravel.” Kate plays what appears to be the country’s ruthless chancellor thus giving her seemingly endless opportunities to twitch her eye to signal something like this one goes to the firing squad or scream into an endless forrest. You know, normal regime stuff. I’d watch Kate chew almost any scenery, so I’m hopeful this Stephen Fears-helmed Max (shudder) series will make the most of their very talented cast. Also more Martha Plimpton, because always give me more Martha Plimpton.

Foster The Night

Welcome to MAX week where I continue to complain about one of the best networks/streamers (HBO/HBO Max) now just being Max and adding a bunch of dumb Discovery shit and unwanted Harry Potter content to our lives. But, because exceptions prove the rule, there are some new shows coming up that certainly pique my very lesbian interest. Like, hello, Jodie Foster. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in a police uniform before and, welp. I know ACAB, but how about fictional cops? Those iceberg-blue eyes and that deep queer lady catnip voice. Oops, did I just do a crime? My bad, arrest me.

Now, I was going to watch “True Detective: Night Country” anyway because it’s a crime drama with co-female leads in Jodie as Chief of Police Liz Danvers and boxer-turned-actress Kali Reis as Detective Evangeline Navarro. But I know (thanks, Autostraddle) that I’m not the only one who raised a bit of an eyebrow at the enemies-plus-benefits potential of Jodie and Kali’s characters. Like that first look Det. Navarro gives Danvers in the trailer? Like, you could singe toast on that. And Jodie rasping, “We’re just going to do this one thing, work together to close this case and that’s it for the two of us.” Like, backstory. We DEMAND backstory. Is this a “Vigil” situation? Please may my wishful gay thinking be right this time. Like they couldn’t have included this maybe they’re cuddling for warmth, maybe they’re born with The Gay shot in the teaser trailer just to pull the old Are They Lesbianing Together Sweeps Week gag, would they? Guess we’ll find out sometime later this year.

Music Monday: Jill Sobule Edition

Yes, the 90s nostalgia continues and I’m not even a little sorry about it. Remember Jill Sobule? Remember that other “I Kissed a Girl” song from 1995 (not the aughts song over a decade later about cherry Chapstick from that reformed Christian singer)? I sure do. The difference was one was about exploration and the other about exploitation, and of course the presence of THE Fabio. Jill Sobule is among that plucky class of female singer-songwriters with guitars trying to be heard above the synthesized din of that era’s reigning boy and girl bands of the late 90s and early 00s. She always had such a joyful, winsome way about her. Her biggest hits, “I Kissed a Girl” and “Supermodel,” were wonderful little windows into womanhood (well, I mean not so wonderful in the case of “Supermodel,” but real). Earlier this year Jill celebrated the two-year anniversary of her successful brain surgery. Yes, brain surgery. She had been diagnosed with essential tremors, making performing difficult near impossible. She posted a clip of herself, in the operating room, with her guitar. With sensitive brain surgeries like this, they often want the subject to be awake to test their faculties and in Jill’s case her hands. So, she played ”Supermodel” while they operated on her brain which is so rock star I can’t even stand it. Like Mick, Bono and Bruce could never. Keep on strumming, Jill, Happy Monday, kittens.

My Weekend Crush

Fine, omg, I’m a freaking lesbian cliché. I love Boygenius and their sad, sensitive lesbian music. I spent all last Sunday gardening in the beautiful sunshine to their new album “The Record.” And I am now a complete mess/emotionally exhausted and also completely hooked. OK, I get it, Youths. You were right. The supergroup of Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and Lucy Dacus are amazing together.

Yes, they sing about being 27. But something about the crystalline emotions of our younger selves continues to resonate through the ages. Nothing stings like the first heartbreak, but every heartbreak will always hurt anew like the first time somehow. If you’re a gal who loves the lyrics like me, shit, you’re going to awaken so many ghosts, old and new, to gently haunt your heart.

Like, have you ever wept while pulling weeds and listening to the aching specificity of “Cool About It?” Because I have. And have you longed for the chance to be devastated by the same soul through space and time and rebirth like “We’re In Love?” That sure hits different while potting your tomatoes for the season.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve listened less to music. Mostly, honestly, I listen in the car. But sometimes, like last weekend, I remember how it feels to immerse myself and let the sonic feelings just wash over me again. I haven’t stopped listening all week. Maybe you’ll like a sensory dip into the girl geniuses of Boygenius too, if you haven’t already. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. Also Kristen Stewart directed this and the film (and three music videos) for “The Record” in case you needed even MORE lesbo street cred.

Pottermore? Please, Potterless

You know that gif of Michael Scott where he is just like, “Noooooooo!” Yeah, that’s how I feel about the new Harry Potter series coming to Max (not HBO Max, because the fucking Discovery Channel bought one the best TV brands - and film brands with Warner Brothers - in existence only to destroy it from within, but I digress). Yesterday the multi-billion dollar multi-media conglomerate announced they’d inked a new deal with none other than THE Transphobe Supreme JK Rowling for a new exhaustive (and exhaustingly gross, honestly) new “Harry Potter” TV series. She who I wish we didn’t have to keep naming will serve as executive producer and nicely pad her existing billions. Wonderful, thrilling, no notes whatsoever! Just kidding, let’s Avada Kedavra that news with fire!

Making this deal even more gross is its scope and cost. The books will become a “decade-long series” with an entirely new cast. To make it they’re forking over a “Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon”-sized budget, or even higher. So that’s $125 million and up, folks. Gosh, what good in the world could $125 million a year accomplish other than continuing to enrich a billionaire transphobe? Probably nothing, so might as well give it to Joanne.

An executive at the streamer formerly known as HBO Max told The Hollywood Reporter: “[It] will be that scale or higher. Whatever it takes to make a quality show.”

Well, here’s a thought. To make a quality show please start with quality people, and Rowling is definitely not that — not anymore and not for a long time. The thing is, people change. She has changed. And the person she is now is blinkered by her staggering wealth, siloed thinking and misguided attempt at so-called feminist advocacy. (Also, if she was such an ardent feminist, why create an elaborate fantasy universe with a cis white straight boy as its ultimate namesake hero? Like, you have the entire universe and that’s as far as your imagination extends? Weakest of sauce.)

I enjoyed the Harry Potter film series (I’m a tad old for the books, to be honest). And I really enjoyed their casts. But I have no reason to return to that world of wizarding as is because it contains nothing new and instead comes from someone who now harbors hateful ideologies. The best stories, the ones we hold dearest, root for the underdog. But when the champion of the underdogs becomes a bully instead, we all lose.

Right now, trans people are among the most maligned, the most discriminated against, the most vulnerable among us. This year already some 417 anti-LGBTQ+ bills have been introduced in state legislatures across the country, according to American Civil Liberties Union. Most of these focus on education and health care and public access — basically just trying to ban trans people out of public existence. Now, remind me again, what kind of people like to eradicate entire groups of marginalized people from the planet? Not good ones, that’s for sure.

I think the bare minimum we can do as consumers is to be judicious about what we give our money and attention to. Sure, some conflicts are unavoidable because phrases like “multi-billion dollar multi-media conglomerate” exist and so much is owned by so few. But there’s no reason to get back on the Hogwart’s Express at this time. Just like I won’t be watching or rewatching the works of Woody Allen or Roman Polanski (and, truly, a host of other gross men) anymore, I won’t be revisiting Joanne’s Potterverse. New times demand new stories. Let’s go find and support those instead in this for the next decade and beyond.

Marvels-ous!

Well, now, doesn’t this look fun? I enjoyed “Captain Marvel” because female superhero badassery, duh. And I enjoyed Monica Rambeau in “WandaVision” and briefly “She-Hulk.” And, yes, I enjoyed “Ms. Marvel” because isn’t it great when more young, diverse characters enter a cinematic universe. So, all three? And they kind Freaky Friday around each other? Yes, three times YES. I still don’t understand why Disney decided to push this back from the summer to November, typically when award season prestige pieces get trotted into the autumnal light. But I am just excited to be excited for another female-led superhero movie that looks like a lot of fun instead of super, deadly serious. And colorful! Amd KITTENS! (Well, I mean, they look like kittens and that’s good enough for me.) Go team!

Tank Top Tuesday: Our Favorite Florist

Would you like to see Lena Headey in a tank top and pork pie hat and leather suspenders? Stupid question, here you go. The occasion for Lena’s arrival in said tanky porky leathery goodness is her signing on to a new TV series, which could turn into another epic series. She will star as the matriarch in the new 1850s Oregon frontier show “The Abandons.” Sounds like super serious Oregon Trail to me, but what do I know. I’m not a showrunner who was unceremoniously fired from his own series for being, in his own words, an “abrasive dick” on set. But then I’m also not Kurt Sutter, who made “Sons of Anarchy” and “Mayans MC” so I guess is allowed an extravagant third chance despite the being a dick stuff. Now, full disclosure, I’ve never watched any of Sutter’s work because I’m not a dude biker and don’t care. But his stuff has been critically lauded, so I guess that makes it all good. I don’t know if this is another Cersei role for Lena — the mad matriarch who would do anything for her children. I hope it’s a good working environment for her and she continues to thrive. Because, as we all know, she’s not a wanker. Or No. 9. I wonder how her new character feels about flowers.

Music Monday: Oughta Edition

Well, as long as we’re in our 90s feels this month, how about THE Angry Breakup Song of the 90s this fine Monday? Why, yes, last weekend did mark six months since My Little Life Implosion. Why do you ask? Happy Monday, kittens.

My Weekend Crush

I believe we have reached the age of the Drew Barrymore Renaissance. If you are a person in my Gen X age bracket, then you basically grew up alongside Drew Barrymore. She was in commercials before she was out of diapers, and by the ripe old ages of 5 already in the pictures (thanks to her debut in “Altered States”) and then by the decrepit age of 7 she was a bona fide movie star (hello, “E.T.”). Now, some may call her one of the O.G. nepo babies (I mean, that Barrymore name). But a family business is a family business. What Drew really stands for is the incredible perseverance and power it takes to overcome everyone’s worst assumptions in a dehumanizing system that sees beautiful, talented young women as nothing more than commodities.

And, if we didn’t all live through it with her, you’d hardly think her feat possible. The way Hollywood chews up and spits out its stars. The way Drew went from childhood darling to teenage Lolita to twentysomething wild thing to thirtysomething rom-com queen is a testament to her staying power, sure. But also an indictment of the boxes we shove young women into. The whiplash-inducing characterization of Drew from adorable child sprite to “hide your fully grown men, here comes a slutty teenager” was stunning in the worst way. Honestly, dissertations could — and should — be written about it.

But now, here Drew is in her late 40s beaming into people’s living rooms every afternoon as her daytime talk show continues to grow in popularity because, let’s face it, she’s wildly charismatic, likable and — most important of all — real. How can she not be, we’ve all watched her grow up. We’ve all watched her make mistakes. We’ve all watched her be herself. And, best of all, we’ve all watched her endure, survive and — thankfully — thrive. Honestly, Drew should have “The Tonight Show” or a “Late Show” or any of the other prestige talk show slots instead of daytime (not that there’s anything wrong with daytime, but we all know the menfolk think it’s below them). Like will her career ever escape sexism? Will we all? Sigh, forever.

And, on a shallow note, omfg do I love her long hair, drapey suit looks of late. Respectfully, of course. Anyway, cast more middle-aged women in things because we are fucking amazing and have no more fucks to give.

Like here is Drew experiencing her first hot flash, on air.

And here is Drew talking about alcoholism with Melanie Lynskey and husband Jason Ritter (which, what an extraordinarily honest moment for everyone involved).

On her show, we’ve seen Drew talk about her addictions, talk about her past, talk about her perimenopause, talk about feeling worthy of someone else’s love and not just the “bad girl” everyone made her out to be. It’s wonderful to see someone express their authentic self, and it’s a gift to let the world into that journey as well. I hope for nothing but the best for Drew going forward. I can’t wait to watch her little sideways way of talking until we’re all gray and wrinkly together. I hope Hollywood stops grinding young women down to almost nothing for its own enjoyment. But I know not to hold my breath. So just be kind to yourself, we’re all just works in progress — no matter what the world says about us. Happy weekend, all.

Mother May They

Can you believe, as much as us gays rightfully love her, Anne Hathaway has never played gay? Sure she was in “Brokeback Mountain” and being in “The Devil Wears Prada” gets her free drinks at the gay bar for life. But on screen? Yeah, everyone’s favorite grown-up Theater Kid has never — at least that I can recall — made out with a lady for our pleasure on the large or small screen. Until, that is, now.

Anne has signed on to the new A24 film (that’s the studio behind “Everything Everywhere All At Once” and “Moonlight”) alongside Michaela Coel of “I May Destroy You” and “Chewing Gum” fame. In it, the two women play lovers (but is either named Cindi — I know, that’s a deep cut) where “a fictional musician” (Anne) is in a relationship with an “iconic fashion designer” (Michaela). The film called “Mother Mary” is being described as an “epic pop melodrama,” and will have original music by Charli XCX and Jack Antonoff.

I’m pretty excited to see what this movie is all about, honestly. I think Anne and Michaela will make a stunning on screen pair. I am visualizing it now. I am happy about visualizing it now. I’ll be in my bunk until this comes out, I guess.

Double Trouble

Hey, remember when I said the new Rachel Weisz Prime Video series “Dead Ringers” looked crazysexycool and alsogay? Well, now we’ve got a full trailer to confirm our hopes, dreams and unhealthy delusions. It does indeed look crazy and sexy and cool and bloody and probably unethical and definitely gay. Weirdly enough, I get a little Fleabag vibe from the trailer, what with all the camera asides. But with the themes of mad science and apparently capitalism instead of grief and love. I’m intrigued, I’m ready for the glorious gayness and I’m not all that hopeful that any of the queers or non-queers will make it out alive. But two Rachel Weiszs chewing up and spitting out the scenery and everything for the price of one, well, who can turn that down? I sure can’t.

Brie on Lesbian Toast

So, here’s a question. Did Harper's Bazaar dress Brie Larson specifically to appeal to lesbians and queer women or did the Harper's Bazaar dress Brie Larson specifically to appeal to lesbians and queer women for their for their Reinvention Issue? Because, truly, there is no other way to interpret this styling. For instance, on the cover she’s giving early 90s Marky Mark. All she needs is Kate Moss glued to her side.

And then here, well, the tank top and cowboy boots require no explanation to lesbians. (I mean it is a Tuesday.)

Not to mention the inability to sit in a chair as it was intended.

In conclusion, thank you whatever stylist was looking out for us queer ladies and made us feel loved and seen with this photoshoot.

Music Monday: Cannonball Edition

Thirty years later, and “Cannonball” is still one of the coolest songs to ever. Period. End of sentence. Why am I still writing? Oh yeah, because The Breeders remain my seminal indie alt-rock band. The band that helped me leap from my Top 40 love (which, no disrespect, I still love me some pop effervescence). But The Breeders was probably the first true indie alt-rock band I adored back back back in the day. (Sure, I loved the Indigo Girls and Ani DiFranco in those days too, but they weren’t really a band, you know?) I saw them during college and it felt like rock and roll should feel. All raw energy and disheveled charisma. It probably also helped that my first girlfriend/first love was totally in love with Kim Deal. And while The Breeders weren’t necessarily part of the Riot Grrrl aesthetic (they’re from Ohio, not the Pacific Northwest, after all), they always felt like some of the most authentic girl alt-rock bands around. Also, Kim and Kelley Deal were hot sisters who played guitar and screamed into microphones (and don’t sleep on Josephine Wiggs, who is the one apparently out lesbian member of the band). So, you know, guess it’s time to dig out my “Last Splash” CD and crank up the volume. Welcome to April, little libertines. Happy Monday, kittens.