And the winners are...

Thanks to all who entered for the giveaways of Bryn Christopher's EP. And if you watched the premiere of “Grey's Anatomy” you know I wasn't lying about the fast-forwarding stuff. Though Yang getting impaled by the icicle totally made me stop and press rewind. But, without further adoing, the winners are:

kennedyismyhero
The Red Hot Paprika
Sarah in Chicago
chapin
byrneme

All winners were picked with the help of a random number generator doohickey (yes, that's the technical term). Thanks again to everyone who entered and stay on the lookout. Who knows when more goodies will fall into my lap.

My Weekend Crush

While she doesn’t make me want to, say, strangle an unsuspecting mountain ox with my bare hands, Olivia Wilde is all kinds of sexy. In fact, she is almost too sexy. And, as long as we’re being perfectly honest, she was the wrong kind of sexy for me as a blonde. Not that there is anything wrong with blondes. Far from it. Still Olivia, with her alpine bone structure and expertly arched eyebrows, was just too perfect as a blonde. Like fresh from the pages of FHM perfect. And that's not my kind of perfect. But as a brunette, woo doggy, now we’re talking. Though I guess dark hair and blue eyes have always been a weakness of mine. I blame Wonder Woman Lynda Carter. It helps, too, in Olivia’s case that she has played gay for our pleasure not once but twice. First as Alex on “The O.C.” and now as Thirteen on “House.” It is as the enigmatic Thirteen where I really noticed Olivia as more than just a pretty face. Beautiful. Mysterious. Bisexual. Damaged. Come to mama. On second thought, maybe that mountain ox should be worried after all. Happy weekend, all.

Grey zone

Ladies (and discerning gentlemen), I have seen The Scene in tonight's “Grey's Anatomy” premiere. You know, The Scene called “awesome, awkward, totally endearing” between Callie and Erica. [Note: This would be your spoiler warning. Shoo, shoo!]

For those who plan to fast forward to the good parts, you're going to have to fast forward for quite a long time. There are a couple of cute, quick non-addressing the issue scenes early on. Then one subtexty, quick non-addressing the issue scene in the middle. And then you'll need to skip to the last eight minutes of the whole two-hour show to get to the good stuff. But when you get there, it is indeed “awkward” and “endearing.” I'm going to reserve “awesome” for now, just because my definition of awesome usually involves kissing. It also lasts longer. The Scene in question is only about a minute and a half.

But in that 90 seconds you get to hear them say “the experiment was kind of a success,” “I've never done this before,” “this kinda makes us virgins” and “we can be scared together.” You also get to see them make faces like this:

See what I meant about endearing?

You'll just have to watch for the rest. But until then, please enjoy something that really is awesome. The kind of awesome that sustained Callica fans through the long, hot summer. The kiss:

p.s. By the way, the scorching soundtrack to their kiss in last season's finale is “The Quest” by Bryn Christopher. If you like what you hear, I have five digital EPs of his to give away. If you want one, leave your email in the comments (feel free to spell it out to foil spammers). Enter until midnight tonight. I'll pick five at random and let you know the winners Monday.

UPDATE I: Thanks for entering. See the winners here.

UPDATE II: Look, ma, no fast-forwarding. [Hat tip, Debbie!]

Just another happy couple

So Lindsay Lohan is gay. And so is Clay Aiken. That sound you're hearing is the universe letting out a collective “Duh!” But, then, this week's admissions – both casual and on covers – is another reminder of the power that those words still have. Sure, we all knew. Heck, I'm sure most of our grandmas knew. But once you say those words out loud, it takes away the whispers. It takes away the alleged. It takes away all that is seemingly suspect. It's just fact now, just life, and life goes on.

Admittedly, Lindsay's coming out process has been the most fascinating to watch. Having one of America's hottest starlets potentially be part of a lesbian relationship was like fresh carrion to the gossip vultures. But that's not what made it fascinating. Nor was it because of her status among the paparazzi princesses who crashed and burned to a chorus of flashbulbs. No, what made it fascinating is that her experience seems to mirror that of so many young gay or questioning women today.

Lindsay found someone she liked. That someone happened to be a girl. So they started hanging out together and going everywhere together. And soon they were just together. And they never hid it. Sure, they never confirmed it until this week either. But there they were shopping together and traveling together and attending parties together and working together. They held hands. They cuddled. They kissed. They were out without being out.

Then earlier this week while calling into Loveline to talk about their friend DJ AM's plane crash, they finally confirmed what all our eyes already saw:

DJ: Now, you guys, you and Samantha have been going out for how long now?
Lindsay: (laughter)
DJ: Like two years? One year? Five months? Two months?
Lindsay: A long...a very long time.
DJ: Well good, well I hope you guys stay together. You are a very lovely looking couple.
Lindsay: Thank you very much.

I haven't always been a fan of Lindsay's. Actually, I was a fan of hers before I wasn't a fan of hers (call it my inner John Kerry). While I'll never support the vapid excess that led to her reckless behavior, I'll be the first to applaud her for pulling herself together and not squandering her talent. And talent she has, the real deal. Just re-watch “Mean Girls,” trust me. So it's unfair to lump her in with the famous for being famous Paris-Kim-Nicole set.

Yet with that simple confirmation Lindsay has hopefully forever closed the door on the last bit of so-called salaciousness in her life. It's only fun to gossip about rumors. Facts, well, they take all the naughtiness out of the equation. Ellen and Portia go to the supermarket and the movies and the car wash together all the time. But while the paparazzi still follow them, you don't see them splashed across on the gossip sites every day. They're old news – just another boring happy couple. And, now, maybe Lindsay and Samantha are one, too. Gosh, wouldn't that be refreshing.

From L to X

Dear Mama Chaiken,

Sometimes, when you get it right you get it so right. Sure I've bitched. Sure I've moaned (both the good and bad kinds, ahem). But today when I read, straight from Xena's chakram, that none other than Lucy Lawless was going to make an appearance on the final season of “The L Word” I almost forgave you for all your transgressions. (Well, not Dana, I'll never forgive you for Dana. Or the floating words. Or the inexplicable character personality whiplash between seasons...wait, wasn't I forgiving you?)

But, hello, inspired casting. To have Xena and Bette on the same show? Now that's an Alpha Lesbian pairing for the ages. I mean it, that might almost be too much for our little gay brains to compute. You might hear heads exploding all across the globe. Talk about la mort heureuse.

Sure, we don't know the specifics yet. Lucy just told us to look for her “on The L Word at some point.” But she couldn't tell us anything about it because “it's deep in the closet.” That wording has to be ironic. Look, I'll tell you right now that Lucy and Jennifer Beals better share some screen time. That's just mandatory. In fact, she better meet and mingle with the entire cast. And, as a special favor, can you have her bring the breast plate? What? I had to ask.

So, many thanks for spreading lesbionic joy among the masses. And, just in case you still have a guest spot left for yet another dykon next season, might I suggest – oh, dream of dreams – Jodie Foster. Heck, if you can get Jodie I'll even forgive you for the Dana thing. Think about it.

With love (and sometimes hate),
Ms. Snarker

p.s. While I'm a tad miffed you didn't tell me this gaytastic news in person, a big Warrior Princess sword tip to The Gentleman for relaying it instead.

Emmys on the Rocks

What do you call five Emmy hosts and not one single laugh? The first eight minutes of last night's Emmy Awards telecast. And when I say not one single laugh, I mean the sound you'd hear in a black hole. And it got a whole lot worse before it got a whole lot better. And, when I say a whole lot better, I mean Tina Fey. Once, twice, three times a Tina Fey. What? You thought I'd miss an opportunity to rave about my gal? Again? Sheesh, it's like you don't even know me at all. But more on her later.

The Emmys are, at best, Oscar's less flashy younger sister. At worst they're the wicked stepsister Oscar can't uninvite from Thanksgiving dinner. Last night's show started out in stepsister territory and was only saved from a permanent banishment from all future family gatherings by some deserving winners. No, I'm not talking automatic-for-the-Emmy winners like Jeremy Piven (third consecutive, really? Though his zing on the uber-lame Emmy opening bit redeemed him a tad). Speaking of the five-headed hosting monster of Bergeron-Klum-Mandel-Probst-Seacrest, I've seen more chemistry in a bag of Pop Rocks.

And while I'm on the topic, whoever had the bright idea to have two men literally rip the clothes off of Heidi Klum should be fired. No, wait, they should first be paraded into a public square and have their clothes ripped off. Then they should be fired. I'd expect some terrible, not to mention terribly sexist (the real kind, not the Palin variety), stunt on “Who Wants to Marry America's Most Eligible Pirate Whisperer,” but never on a show that is actually supposed to award excellence.

Now I will try to forget the night's copious blerg-worthy bits and only think the happy thoughts the night's most deserving winners gave me. A salute to the people who made losing those three hours of my life called the Emmy Awards seem almost worth it.

Glenn Close: Best Actress in a Drama

“We're proving that complicated, powerful, mature women are sexy in high entertainment and can carry a show. I call us the sisterhood of the TV drama divas.” Darn tooting!

Sandra Oh: Emmy Presenter/Nominee

“My parents couldn't be prouder, unless I actually was a doctor.” Oh, Sandra, please don't let that stop you from playing naughty doctor with me whenever you want.

Laura Linney: Best Actress in a Miniseries/Movie

The woman who played Abigail Adams thanks all the “community organizers who helped form our country.” Yes, she can...go there. p.s. Is it just me or does Laura totally look like Laurel Holloman's long-lost sister here?

Stephen Colbert: Outstanding Writing for a Variety/Music/Comedy Program

His bit equating McCain with prunes later in the night was great, but what was best was watching a truly humbled and honored Colbert accept the trophy. Person/character, character/person. Now I can't wait to see the character crow about it next week.

Tina Fey: Queen of Fucking Everything
(Best Comedy Writing, Actress, Series)

Oh, kittens. From her proclamation of “Oh, nerds” when she won her first award of the night (for writing) to her thanking of her parents for “raising me to have confidence that is disproportionate with my looks and abilities. Well done. That is what all parents should do” (while winning for acting) and her recitation of all the places online and TV you can watch “30 Rock” (watch, dammit, watch!) she alone made those three hours of my life worth it. Plus, did you see her holding hands with Amy Poehler when she came on to present? Commence femslash in 5-4-3-2-1...

[Click any to enlarge, especially that last one.]

p.s. I cannot possibly overemphasize how much the show (minus its winners) both sucked and blew. Wretched, utterly wretched.

My Weekend Crush

It's been an auspicious week for lesbians on the butcher side of the spectrum. First Ellen DeGeneres gets her easy, breezy on as the new face of CoverGirl. And then Rachel Maddow does the seemingly impossible. She beat her MSNBC cohort, series lead-in and perennial ratings king Keith Olbermann in only her second week on the air. On Tuesday, Maddow's show scored 1.8 million total viewers to Olbermann's 1.6 million. She also got 25,000 more of the much-coveted (by advertisers, anyway) 25-54 demographic. How much do you want to bet 24,999 of those 25-54 year olds were lesbians harboring serious crushes?

After only a fortnight of holding court, the former Rhodes Scholar is already a force to be reckoned with in the political landscape. While she is unabashedly liberal, she isn't blindly partisan. Talking points are the anathema of her show. Her winning mix of unstoppable smarts, persuasive passion, hilarious incredulity and adorable dorkiness make her any thinking gal's dream date. But what really makes her so good is that she cares. She cares deeply about politics. She cares about who is telling the truth. She cares about who is lying. She cares about what works. She cares about what doesn't work. She cares because she knows that political decisions matter in people's personal lives. Some line-item in a 200-page bill could actually means something in your everyday life. It could mean you finally get health care to cover your child. It could mean your company gets a tax break to ship your job overseas. It could mean that your government can deny you even the most basic protections simply because the person you love happens to be of the same sex.

Lots of people hate politicians, and with good reason. But politics doesn't have to be about strife and division. It should be about working together to find ways to make sure our government truly work for the people it represents. Rachel knows that. And that's why she cares. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. Damn, how sexy is that smarty?