grievance: the series finale of the l word *spoiler alert*

Look at this crapola. "i killed jenny."

I'm furious. Absolutely furious. I just spent, what, 6 years of my life watching a show, following plotlines, seeing characters DIE... and then this?! Really, Executive Producer/Creator Ilene Chaiken? Seriously?

Okay... so for those of you who don't know, The L Word was the show which essentially took Queer As Folk's place in terms of being edgy and breaking down walls which previously existed for same-sex relationships being portrayed on television. I watched it live from the very first episode (it's premiere directly followed some big season or series finale, I think). And I thought it was incredibly well done and interesting and entertaining. And I think it did do what it intended to. Because after a while, it seemed really mundane. Which is apparently why it ended. Because it wasn't edgy enough anymore. And for that, I'm really happy, actually. I like gay people. More than most straight people. Topic for another blog.

Anyhow, they set up, from the very beginning of this last season, that one of the main characters, Jenny Schecter, portrayed by the lovely and talented Mia Kirshner, ends up dying. And the first episode is in real-time, during which the police are "investigating" what seems to be her "murder." And the entire last season is spent leading up to those events. Which is incredibly thrilling and exciting. At times, however, it did become annoying. Because up until about mid-way through last season, Jenny Schecter was a pretty loveable character. She had moved to L.A. with her boyfriend and been "seduced" by this woman (whom I don't think is altogether that hot but is supposed to be this sex pot of sorts) and gets in touch with her true sexuality, dumps the boyfriend and then goes through a mess of heartbreaks and emotional problems. The entire last season is her systematically pissing all of the other main characters off, each saying some variation of "I'm gonna kill Jenny Schecter" after the events have transpired.

And every single time, you have this moment, as a viewer, where you think "oh God. Could this have been any more staged? It's almost laughable." But you continue on.

So the series finale comes. And everyone's all raged up. Everyone is ready to "kill Jenny Schecter." And they're all at a party which she's essentially put together as a sort of send-off for main characters Bette (Jennifer Beals) and Tina (Laurel Holloman). And they keep setting characters up to be alone with her. And the other character does something sheisty, like Kit (Pam Grier) closing the drapes, etc. etc., blah blah blah. And the whole time, I'm sitting there rolling my eyes, making bets with my roommate on who's gonna do it. And every 45 seconds, we change our minds. Because they're trying to make it as suspensful as they possibly can.

And then... they leave it entirely open-ended. Like, you could guess. But you could guess SEVERAL different options. And I'm simply NOT DOWN WITH THAT. You might as well have just not ended it. Not even done this season. It's not cute. It's not kitschy. It's not innovative. It's a really creepy thing to do to your audience who has been loyal for so many years.

Go to hell, L Word.

-moon

grievance: the worst airplane ride ever

Okay. I admit that part of the cause for what culminated in "the worst flight" in aviation history had something to do with me. I realized, the day before I was supposed to go to Puerto Rico for a much-needed respite from the world, that the looming paper deadline on the horizon was actually due the day after we were supposed to get back to NYC... at 9:45 A.M. And our flight was getting in at 1 A.M. So, I'd spent a bunch of "beach time" reading JSTOR articles about fallacious, semicompetitive village elections in China. (And had to spend FORTY THREE dollars on printing some of these out at the business center of our hotel. Meh.)

So... When I got on the plane to come back home, I was all kinds of prepared to just bang out this paper. And then the flight-from-hell began. The young man in front of me felt it was acceptable and appropriate to wail his arms about and yell in my face to get my attention (I was on my computer and had earplugs in so as to preempt any kind of vexing behavior by other jetBlue patrons).

"Yo, you gots a credit card?"

Bewildered and bemused, I told him that I did, in fact, have one.

"My buddy ain't got one and they not takin' cash and he wants-a get a drink. You put it on your card and he cu pay you back?"

Okay. This dude had already banged the hell out of his seat (which slammed into my computer on the tray table every time) and had been yelling like he was in a bar. But I thought "hey, this would be a nice thing to do." So I did.

Then the entire thing caused such a commotion that all of the flight attendants were in the aisle, trying to figure out this stupid situation. When I asked her for another tomato juice, she smiled and said "would you like some vodka with that?" I really would have. But the fuckin' China democratization paper. Ugh.

Then these fucking bastards essentially start jumping up and down like monkeys, laughing, banging seats. Acting like real classy characters. So I went to sit by the window.

Still fucking distracted as hell by the three d-bags, now there was also a woman in front of me sitting on her knees somewhat turned to her boyfriend, massaging him, and essentially staring at me. At first it was annoying. Then it was severely disturbing and creepy.

So, after all of these frustrations and only 2 pages of writing done, even with earplugs, I decided to take a mini nap and finish up later.

I woke up when they made the announcement that we'd be making our descent into New York.

The three d-bags were still acting like d-bags, so THAT was awesome.

I looked out the window and tried to calm down. After all, I'd just had an amazing and relaxing vacation: so relaxing a vacation was it that the only complaints I could think of (and I tried hard) were:
1. Grievance: The Terribly Annoying Noise of the Ocean Waves Crashing on the Beach
2. Grievance: Warm, Beautiful 85 Degree Weather in March
3. Grievance: Pina Coladas Melting Too Quickly in the Sun
4. Grievance: Having a Balcony
5. Grievance: Outlet Stores Closing Too Early
6. Grievance: Accidentally Falling Asleep Because You're Too Relaxed
So that's just a few. Not my best work, I concede. It's hard to be prickly in paradise.

In any event, just when I'm starting to calm down from the annoyance, there's some turbulence. I love turbulence. It's like a rollercoaster. I've never had a bad flying experience in my life, so I don't take it too seriously. But this went on for about 3 minutes and then got worse. And then it got really bad. And I looked over at one of the d-bags and he was praying. And I laughed. And then it got REALLY bad. And REALLY scary. And then I looked out at the wing and it looked like it was battling a fucking enemy. And it was pouring. I actually seriously thought the plane was going down and we were going to die.

I was sweating and shaking and about to start crying. When we finally landed, I was unbelievably nauseated. But I was also in some weird shock and was so anxiety-ridden that I couldn't even speak or look at lights. It was horrifying.

I was still in shock when we got home. So I started drinking Bacardi out of the bottle to loosen up to write the rest of the damned paper. I got myself to bed at 5A.M.

I have no recollection of what I put into the second part of that paper, so that should be interesting to say the least.

I regret I do not have pictures or video of the three d-bags, because I was so stunned by the experience I couldn't make it happen. I do however have a picture that will make you all, including myself now that I'm back in dreary New York, quite jealous.

From now on, I think I'm going to have to be one of those CRAZY bitches who pop a Xanax before they fly. Here's to unnecessary pharmaceuticals!



-caribbean moon

raging out at... people who may or may not be dead

It can't be explained as to why, but nothing (and by nothing, I mean most things) enrages me more than not knowing if someone is dead or not. I hate that I have to sit there, wasted at a bar, and google things such as "Betty White dead." Nearly all of my drunken googles are for either song lyrics or finding out if someone is, in fact, dead.

And to be honest, I am mostly pissed at myself for this one. Someone will pass a remark about someone such as Abe Vigoda and then someone else will ALWAYS chime in with, "Aren't they dead?" I immediately become devastated and start in on the "Dead Inquisition." As my slow Sidekick loads up "Abe Vigoda dead," I attack the party who felt Abe was dead. "When did he die? Are you sure? What happened? How come I think I saw him in that new Macy's commercial? Oh, that was Usher. Whatever. I don't think he's dead. You're wrong. You're dead. Why would you say a thing like that about Abe Vigoda if you weren't sure??"

Now if the allegedly dead celebrity meant that much to me that I would attack a friend, shouldn't I have been up on whether or not they were dead in the first place? And why in the hell does everyone think everyone is dead anyway? 9 times out of 10, the person in question isn't dead.

Don't tell me someone's dead and crush my spirit unless you are sure.

-stars