I don’t know what’s up lately, but something’s going on. My inner crust usually hides those inner gooey thoughts, and lately the goo has been bubbling to the surface. The strangest things have me ooh-ing, ahh-ing, and tearing up. Between my intense pro-woman pride, renewed faith in humanity, and yearning for a baby, I’m pretty sure I’m about to lose it.
The pro-woman thing really isn’t something new. I’ve posted entries in the past where I gave appropriate atta-girls to those accomplishing things big and small. But lately it’s been a bit intense.
Last week I went out with the gays on my birthday to the Kathy Griffin show. For those unfamiliar, she was the annoying red head on Suddenly Susan. I couldn’t stand her in the show, yet I neglected to turn the channel when I saw her on MTV Cribs many moons ago. She was an absolute riot, but I put her out of mind.
Then came the cable juggernaut Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List. Armed with self-deprecating humor, great people, and honest dialogue, her skills and determination have rocketed her to fame way beyond the D-list. You might not like her foul mouth and how she exploits celebrities for being crazy ass bitches, but you cannot deny that she doesn’t have unique perspective and a colorful way of telling a story.
Three years ago she was at a small theater in a suburb outside Chicago. One year later, she sold out a show at the Shubert. Last year she sold out back-to-back shows at the massive Chicago Theatre. This year she sold out three nights of shows at that same venue.
This woman has clawed her way to the top, and she’s earned every ounce of success she receives.
[Insert really obvious Sarah Palin joke that conflicts with the previous statement.]
When I think about Griffin — a woman I clearly don’t know and who has no direct bearing on my life — I’m proud of her in that misty-eyed, go-get-‘em girrrl kinda way.
Another woman who’s also got me feeling this way is Rachel Maddow. I first saw her on Countdown with Keith Olbermann. I always respected how whatever Olbermann was ranting on, she’d interject a few moments of thoughtful banter, always raising an interesting point.
She’s smart. She’s sharp. And she’s gorgeous.
[Insert really obvious Sarah Palin joke about how lacking two outta three ain’t too bad.]
Maddow has doubled MSNBC’s audience during her show’s hour, and she’s trumped Olbermann’s show and Larry King Live. (Article here.)
All that, and her show has only been on for only 25 episodes.
Like Griffin, Maddow is also where she is based on talent, likeability, and being really darn good at what she does. It’s like these two merely being in my gender makes me feel like I’m among good company.
Add to it that Maddow is openly a lesbian, and I’m also super-proud that no one seems to care.
Along those same lines, today I witnessed something that made my heart soar. It’s not an epic I Have a Dream moment, but I’m still holding on to it. My dear friend Shika sent this video (NSFW, but not p0rn by any means).
The office was pretty slow today, so I clicked it. And BOY did it make me smile. The guy’s got moves like you wouldn’t believe. He ROCKS the choreography — even when confined by the space he’s using. His attitude and flair really make it something worth watching and appreciating.
It wasn’t his talent or his bravery for posting himself online and open for critique that got me. Each time I refresh the screen, I’m amazed by the tremendously affirmative comments.
Nothing about him being a flamer.
Nothing about him needing a cheeseburger.
Nothing about him choosing to wear a Speedo and ripped-up quarter-shirt.
Every single comment is cheering him on, complimenting his mad skillz, and telling him he’s absolutely fierce. I’ve had it in the background for most of today for whenever I needed a boost, and I hit F5 to refresh and read more comments multiple times.
He’s posting his talent openly where people can rip him to shreds while remaining anonymous. He’s got nearly 72,000 watches, 4.5 stars, and 595 comments. If that isn’t a testament to the world not being all that bad, I don’t know what is.
Along those lines comes my last point. If this was a bad world where people are out to cause harm, I’d worry for the next generation. Heck, I’d do everything I could to not bring a child up surrounded by filth. And here I am, recognizing the good, appreciating it, and fighting the pang of my uterus.
My friend Ben in New York recently posted a photo of him holding his nephew in a Baby Bjorn while out at the museum, and I wrote to tell him that he needed to bury that photo until I got out of this stage, lest I fly to New York, convert to Jew, get hitched, and have ten blue-eyed babies he can carry in a Baby Bjorn anytime. Although I’d be a-okay with waking up and giving Ben a high-five each morning because he’s so awesome, it’s probably best if my uterus didn’t make all the decisions around here.
The above-mentioned Shika sent me a link to the website Yes We Can (Hold Babies), and it’s since been nothing but trouble.
After viewing the site, I damn near stole a baby while on my lunch break.
His big man hands holding these little humans. The care he has with their mini bodies. The way he looks at them like they’re the only people in the room.
Dammit! Just hand the baby over to me!
Getting choked up cheering on Kathy G while she calls Miley Cyrus a whore, watching Rachel each night and seeing her in the friggin’ New York Times for her success, reading overwhelmingly positive comments on a half-dressed dancing queen, and being receptive to children despite them perennially smelling like grilled cheese is really throwing me off.
Whatever’s going on, it needs to stop.
That, or everyone needs to keep an eye on his or her babies while wandering Chicago’s Loop.