Showing posts with label South of Nowhere. Show all posts
Showing posts with label South of Nowhere. Show all posts

Say it with Snarker

I am not a huge fan of Valentine's Day. In a relationship, out of a relationship, the day has always had an artifice to it that crassly commodified the simple declaration of love. Also, you know, I'm bitter. But beyond the Hallmarkification of the holiday and price gouging of roses, I actually do – deep down – appreciate the sentiment. Love in all its many forms is undeniably grand, even if the before and after can be entirely the opposite. So in honor of florists' Cupid's big day, here are some cards that celebrate queer love, or something like it. Sure, all the smart lesbians are already saying it with Maddow. But, what these lack in hot, nerdy, policy wonkiness they make up for in terrible Photoshopping skills. Send them to someone you love, lust or would just like to see naked this Valentine's Day. [Click any and all to enlarge the snark love]

And, just to show that I have a heart, here is one snark-free offering. Hey, it's not that I've gone soft. It's just that I'm excited about the half-price chocolates come Feb. 15.

Tank Top Tuesday

Yvonne Strahovski

I believe that children are our future, mostly because Whitney Houston sang it in her pre-Bobby Brown days when you could still trust her. But, seriously, it’s the youth who shall inherit the earth and they might as well wear a tank top because they're inheriting a seriously warming planet. What? I’m just trying to think positive. While some of these ladies are on the outer edge of age-appropriateness for me, I’d hate to be accused of ageism. When it comes to women in tank tops, I am a strict equal opportunity luster. In fact, Special Agent Sarah Walker, err, Yvonne Strahovski above is our oldest tank topper at 26. But don’t worry, Chris Hansen, I checked all their IDs. Everybody’s legal, nobody’s going to jail. Put away the cuffs…or maybe not. Ahem. And with that, I give you Tank Top Tuesday: The Next Generation.

Leighton Meester, 22I don’t watch “Gossip Girl.” Why do I suddenly have the feeling I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake?

Lindsay Lohan, 22Is it just me, or has she gotten hotter as she has gotten gayer?

Freida Pinto, 24“Slumdog Millionaire” made me a believer. This tank top made me a worshipper.

Jessica Stroup, 22Tank Top + Fire + Kissing Heather Graham = Almost enough to make me watch “90210”… almost, but still no.

Rihanna, 20Standing under Rihanna’s umbrella is optional. Staring at her tank vest is mandatory.

Hayden Panettiere, 19What kind of space-age polymer does your tank top need to be made out of if you’re indestructible? These are the questions that keep me up at night.

Kristen Stewart, 18Why do vampires love tank tops? Two words: easy access.

Mandy Musgrave, 22, and Gabrielle Christian, 24Oh, Spashley. If only your storyline lived up to your tank tops.

Blake Lively, 21
Blake Lively
It’s official. I’ve made a tragic error in not watching “Gossip Girl.”

Last Spashley

Gosh, my high school days certainly were never like this. Not even close. Truth be told, I'm not sure how many people's actually were. But regardless its closeness to any of our realities, “South of Nowhere” is a reflection of our hopes. Fine, not the insane teenage drama. Or the crazy homophobic mom. Or the dolt of a brother. Or...look, you get what I'm driving at. In my high school I remember exactly one openly gay kid. And even that was more like a rumor. There were no out couples. And I suspect this is still the case in too many schools, large and small, across the country. Sure it's changing, but it can't change fast enough for every questioning teen out there wondering if she is the only one. Being able to find community online helps immensely. Still there is just something about seeing your lives, your hopes broadcast directly into your living room that makes you feel a little less lonely.

That's why we've all sat through dozens if not hundreds of excruciatingly bad lesbian movies. That's why we all watch and rewatch “The L Word” (well, that and Jennifer Beal's biceps). We want to see ourselves. We want to see our stories. And, fine, we want to see hot girls kissing. It's thankfully the one and only thing I have in common with frat boys everywhere.

[Girls and boys, you're gonna wanna click that.]

So starting Friday it will be bittersweet to watch the last eight episodes of “South of Nowhere.” The series will finish its run at the end of this its third season. Sure, the show wasn't perfect. And I fully admit to fast-forwarding to the Spashley stuff. Still I always marvel at the fact that it's on TV at all. And on a channel just for teenagers (yeah, I try to ignore that bit, too, since I'm embarrassingly outside of the demographic). So, what's up for our star-crossed lovebirds in these last few episodes? Drama. Temptation. And, yes, kissing. God bless television.


South for Spashley

If “South of Nowhere” had existed while I was in junior high or high school, my how things would have been different. As is, the first show I saw about teenagers that dealt with gay issues was “My So-Called Life,” which started while I was in college. But a show with a lesbian teen couple that involved actual sexual tension and physical affection (even if we may grumble that it is too limited) was and continues to be a rarity. So I was saddened to hear late last month that the series is ending its run at the end of its third season this spring. The eight-episode second half to the season, which starts April 11*, will be it’s last.

Did I like everything (ugh, Glen, seriously ugh) about the show? Clearly, no. Did I sometimes fast-forward to the Spashley parts? Admittedly, yes. But regardless of its shortcomings, what the show helped do was normalize gay relationships. Gay teen couples flirt and fight and fawn over each other, just like straight teen couples. Gay teen couples face the same joys and pains, insecurities and desires, just like straight teen couples. And, most importantly, gay teen couples exist in practically every high school and deserve to be respected in the hallways and classrooms of America (and, of course, beyond). We’re here, we’re queer, can we copy your trig notes?

So, I’ll tune in to catch the final eight. And I’ll mourn the loss of the show even though it was so far out of my age demographic it bordered on embarrassing. And, heck, I’ll even sign a petition and send blog love to those troupers at the Save Spashley campaign. Hey, if peanuts worked for “ Jericho ” fans, maybe compasses can work for SoN fans. Though, if it were up to me, I’d send trench coats. Lots and lots of trench coats. Yeah. I am totally going to miss this show.

*UPDATE: Huh, well apparently The PTB and The N have decided to push back the final episodes premiere date to the fall because the network has “been absolutely overwhelmed” by the fan reaction to the cancellation and now want to “give South the proper send-off it deserves.” OK. So, delayed disappointment. I see. Very clever. Most people go for delayed gratification, but you just had to be different.