I’m not really a feminist but for some reason I get fired up during Women’s History Month. I can’t think of many things more empowering than this young lady who has found her voice at the tender age of 6.
I’ve been getting quite a lot of traffic for the past two weeks. Here’s why:
- gracie gold bullshit
- gracie gold bitch
- ashely wagner slut
- ashley wagner bitch face
- gracie gold annoying
- ashley wagner had a snotty face
- gracie gold snobby interview
These are the most commonly used search phrases to land people on my humble blog recently. I agree with most of them.
Before last night I was mildly obsessed with women’s figure skating and declared no interest whatsoever in men’s. That’s all changed. Besides all the delicious drama (someone quit, someone fell hard etc.), one of the skaters, Jason Brown, used music by Prince for his short program, a bold move to be sure. Upping the ante on the risk factor (no, I’m not talking about personal injury, though there may be lawyers involved) was the rather large Prince logo on his back.
Assuming he didn’t get the green light from the great purple one, would anyone be surprised if repercussions were in his future? The famously litigious Artist Recently Known as Asshole is beginning to rival another musician (who shall remain nameless seeing as I once had to endure a lengthy deposition at his lawyers’ behest. Hint: his band is usually associated with sunny California and mental illness ) and apparently fans are no more immune to the wrath of his ego than corporations. Shameful behavior.
On the other hand, Brown’s performance, was anything but shameful and altogether stunning. Flamboyant, creative and technically near-perfect, it turned me into an instant fan of men in tights on ice. Yet, inexplicably, earned him no better than 9th place. NINTH PLACE. I could go on about the injustice but I’d really like to know what you think.
I like Ashley Wagner.
Not as much as I dislike Gracie Gold and not nearly as much as I love a good meme. It was painful for me to see Gracie perform her free skate so beautifully this weekend, seeing as I can’t bear her personality, the way she glares at Wagner or the fact that she used Pink Floyd’s “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” for her Olympic routine. (Syd Barrett was mumbling in his grave.) But my woe turned to whoa when 15 -year old Julia Lipnitskaia, the Russian phenom who Gold says has no spine (she didn’t mean it metaphorically, or did she?) took to the ice and left everyone in the dust of her gold medal.
By the way, I’m bringing “you ignorant slut” back into the cultural lexicon during these winter Olympics and maybe until SNL gets funny again.
Since Jennifer Lawrence is now controlled by the Illuminati, it’s only a matter of time before her public descent into madness. You heard it here first. How else can you explain her Oscar nomination (and Golden Globe win) for truly terrible acting in that overblown movie American Hustle? I can’t even entertain the thought that Amy Adams could beat Cate Blanchett. Wait, I just did.
See her picture in a thousand places
cause she’s this year’s girl.
You think you all own little pieces
of this year’s girl.
Forget your fancy manners,
forget your English grammar,
’cause you don’t really give a damn
about this year’s girl.
Still you’re hoping that she’s well spoken
’cause she’s this year’s girl.
Never knowing it’s a real attraction,
all these promises of satisfaction,
while she’s being bored to distraction
being this year’s girl.
Time’s running out. She’s not happy with the cost.
There’d be no doubt, only she’s forgotten
much more than she’s lost.
A bright spark might corner the market
in this year’s girl.
You see yourself rolling on the carpet
with this year’s girl.
Those disco synthesizers,
those daily tranquilizers,
those body building prizes,
those bedroom alibis,
all this, but no surprises for this year’s girl.
(This Year’s Girl by Elvis Costello)
Some of the year’s best television (it’s quite early, I know) happened last night during the U.S. women’s figure skating nationals. There was comedy . . . albeit slapstick . . . and tragedy. Pretty girls doing astounding things and pretty girls being bitches. Not quite Real Housewives, but definitely on par with the best girl v girl reality scenarios. And this one was very real. There was the awkward young up and comer with perfect form; the unpredictable artist type, clearly an outcast; the likable champion whose star seems to be falling and her rival the queen bitch cheerleader from your worst high school nightmare.
At first my vote was for the underdog, the champion: Ashley Wagner who supposedly tweeted that she was applying her war paint hours before the competition; Her rival, Gracie Gold lost me when she said this in an interview: “Yeah, my name is like a double edged sword. (Had her hair not been in a tight bun, she would have flipped it here.) You know, Gracie, fall from grace and Gold, grab the gold.” The awkward girl with perfect technique was a bit controlled for my taste (which means absolutely nothing outside the confines of my living room). Commentators’ discussion about the artist type’s volatility/fragility intrigued me, but it was her choice of music that got my attention.
The nationals determine the figure skating champion, which is, all by itself, kind of a big deal. But it also plays a humongous role in choosing who will be on the Olympic team. Here’s how it went down:
Wagner: fell twice and stumbled. It wasn’t pretty. It was sort of poetic, though. Especially, since she could be seen hugging and comforting another young skater who took a few tumbles right before her.
Edmunds: Eh…..(Where’s my jar of Trader Joe’s cookie butter swirl?)
Nagasu: The artist. The Christian Hosoi of women’s figure skating. Her choice of music: James Bond scores. To my uneducated eye, her form was stunning. She wowed me and the audience. Of course the commentators had mostly snotty remarks about her. Rock star all the way.
Gold: Well I’ll be damned if she didn’t go out there and destroy it. She stumbled once but that didn’t seem to matter as her score was the single highest long form skate score ever. Ever. Her face melting ego came dangerously close to annihilating everything in a ten mile radius, but she did manage to pull off those damn triples, or whatever. Predictably, she gloated.
Gold, of course took first, Polina Edmunds the awkward nubile took second, Nagasu took third and Wagner 4th. This morning I eagerly jumped online to see who was chosen for the team, and I was disappointed to find that Wagner was chosen over Nagasu. As much as I wanted Wagner to bury Gold, I will always cast the rock n roll vote.
Here’s how I’d like to see this reality show end:
Mirai marries a wealthy, sexy and totally faithful rock star, then goes on to win the next nationals.
Ashley shrinks away from the public eye, marries a contractor and lives happily ever after in a warm climate.
Polina becomes the first openly gay female in figure skating and eventually wins a gold medal.
Gracie marries a cheating NFL quarterback and becomes an alcoholic which makes her retain massive amounts of water in her extremities.
Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore revealed 38 of his favorite songs and while many of them are what you’d expect, there are a few surprises. Moore, or anyone associated with Sonic Youth is somewhat of a sacred cow in music. You have to sort of get behind them or you’re basically a fool. A charlatan. (Whatever). A few of the songs from his list are also on my own list. (I may be cool after all). A few artists seemed out of left field. He definitely has his pet genres: glitter, no wave, So Cal punk, early British punk, “grunge,” and folk . . . didn’t see that one coming. The fact that he listed a Beach Boys tune but left out anything by The Beatles feels a bit pretentious/trendy. There is a school of thought that The Beach Boys had a bigger influence on pop music than The Beatles. I respectfully disagree. Actually, I think it’s total bullshit, but everyone’s entitled to his opinion. He also named a Youth Brigade song which made me literally go, “whoa.” And the Bush Tetras. I forgot all about that band. Whether or not I think Moore’s “choices” are a tad self-conscious, listening to them made me nostalgic. Where are The Germs of today? Or the Hendrix. Or even Nirvana? Who’s setting precedents in music anymore? To quote another great artist in its day: Nothing’s shocking. But I wish it was.
1. Matthew Singer. I hired him as a music columnist pre-social media, pre-Netflix, pre-practically everything we can’t get through one day without and I’ve marveled at his talent ever since. Five years ago he moved to Portland to try to make something of his life and now he’ s the music editor at Willamette Weekly. He also writes the VCReporter bi-weekly media column. He’s a better writer than I’ll ever hope to be, and he’s sharper than all of us (that includes you.) He’s followed by more than 700 people on Twitter. He basically rules at life. @mpsinger.
2. Michele Serros. I actually met Michele in the late ’80s when she worked in the custom framing department at Michael’s in Santa Monica. She was originally from Oxnard. She worked with my ex-husband (before we were dating). When I moved to Ventura (with husband), I became aware of her poetry, put two and two together. . .. She is a real sweetheart and a force to reckon with.
3. Rosie Lee Imports. I should probably hate this shop for being close enough to my office to satisfy my inevitable 3 p.m. compulsion to consume sugar. Chocolate covered marzipan, creme filled biscuits (cookies), a fantastic selection of teas and pleasant conversation with the owner, make this a lovely place to sugar rush.
4. Parenthood. Maybe it’s my empty nest, maybe it’s hormones or maybe it’s Dax Shepard, but I got it bad for this TV drama and I’m blaming Netflix for feeding my need. When Orange is the New Black season 1 came to a close and Breaking Bad ended, this little show filled the gap and provided an outlet for a steady stream of conflicting emotion. Sure it can get a bit hokey, but I care about the characters which is something I can’t say to often.