Don't You Fucking Leave Us, Alex Vause

Did you hear that sound at about 5:30 p.m. EST/2:30 p.m. PST yesterday afternoon? It was the sound of lesbians everywhere collectively wailing and gnashing their teeth at the news that Laura Prepon is reportedly leaving “Orange Is the New Black.” WHAT? WHY? NOOOOOOOOOO! And repeat.

To quote Alex Vause herself, DON’T YOU FUCKING LEAVE ME.

Buzzfeed reported yesterday that Laura hadn’t signed a contract yet and would not be a regular for season two. She would only appear in a limited number of episodes to essentially wrap up the Alex/Piper storyline. WHAT? WHY? NOOOOOOOOOO! And just yesterday I had rejoiced at our glorious summer of lesbian love on television. This is what I get for not knocking on wood first. To be even more gay than I already am and quote Tegan and Sara, WHERE DOES THE GOOD GO?

Sorry for to copious all caps, but my BIG LESBIAN FEELINGS can hardly take it. We threw our pies for her. Does this mean we’re getting a lot more of Larry (ugh, Larry) next season? Oh my God, just make it “The Larry & Pennsatucky Show” and I can officially cancel my Netflix subscription and give that $8 a month to orphaned puppies like Sarah McLachlan keeps demanding I do anyway.

There have been reports (from Variety, HuffPost, TV Guide) that Netflix is saying the story is “not accurate.” I am not a person who prays, but I am lighting a virtual candle for hope that Prepon has a change of heart. Still the always reliable @Snoodit at The Hollywood Reporter confirmed her exit. So sounds like we’re going to get a lot less Alex in the second season and that makes me sad beyond belief.

It should be noted that there’s nothing right now to indicate that Alex Vause is being intentionally written out of the show. Reports says Laura did not sign a contract to be a series regular, not that she wasn’t offered a contract to be a series regular. It is being left open for her to possibly return to the show in the future. So I don’t think the series is purposefully being de-gayed. Which is good. Though, how did Netflix not lock her into a multi-year deal beforehand? Shit, those “Glee” kids are enslaved for seven years (though, clearly, the studio retained the right to drop them earlier if they wanted).

The good news is the show isn’t just one person and there are a lot (like a lot – Nicky, Crazy Eyes, Taystee, Big Boo, Sophia, Red, et al) of other reasons to keep watching. This remains one of the most female-friendly and ethnically diverse programs on the air. And it still has lesbian and bisexual characters and the potential for same-sex relationships abound. But it also can’t be denied that the Piper and Alex storyline was at the heart of this merry band of incarcerated misfit and malcontents.

(SPOILERS, but seriously, if you haven’t binged-watched the whole thing at this point you have only yourself to blame.) That’s part of why the ending to the first season was so terribly gutting. In losing the possibility of Alex, Piper also loses touch with the part of her humanity that would keep her from, say, smashing in a methhead Jesus freak’s face. Alex, for all her flaws, was a big part of what was good about Piper – her wild impulses, her sense of adventure, her endless yearning. How can something that felt so inevitable end? Plus, think of all the hot shower sex we will be missing.

Also, we are legitimately going to have to have a wake for Alex Vause’s Glasses.

A world where Alex Vause isn’t constantly adjusting her glasses is a world without rainbows and unicorns. This is Tara Maclay bad. This is Dana Fairbannks bad. Is it raining somewhere in the world? Then it’s from the collective tears of lesbians soaking the Earth in our sorrow. Too much? Fuck everything, not enough. I will not be consoled. THIS IS ALEX VAUSE.

Will begging help? I am not above begging.

p.s. Yo, “Orphan Black,” don’t get any funny ideas and kill off Cosima or I take back every nice thing I ever said about this lesbian TV summer.

Best. Lesbian. TV. Summer. Ever.

Hey, how’s your summer going? Did you go camping? Plant an organic vegetable garden? Knit a sweater out of your cat’s shedded hair? Hopefully not the latter. Though, if we’re being honest, you probably did what ever other lesbian did. You sat in front of a screen and watched TV. Like, a lot of TV. Like, a lot of good TV. Like, seriously, is this the Best. Lesbian. TV. Summer. Ever. or what? The ass-shaped dent in my couch says yes.

Lesbians have been all over TV these long, hot months. Lesbians on “Pretty Little Liars.” Lesbians on “Orange Is the New Black.” Lesbians on “The Fosters.” Lesbians on “Mistresses.” Lesbians on “Under the Dome.” Lesbians on “The Killing.” Lesbians on “True Blood.” Lesbians on “The Bridge.” Lesbians on “Orphan Black” (fine, that was technically spring, but many folks didn’t catch up until the summer and also Tatiana Maslany). Granted, some of the lesbians and their same-sex relationships were more central to the story than other. Like, what the hell, “True Blood?” If I don’t see some Pam and Tara action before this completely ridiculous season is over I’ll spike your cocktails with Hep-V myself. And, yes, there has been a couple of unfortunately Dead Lesbians.

But, overall, as far as rich, diverse and quality content goes, this summer TV season is kicking all the other TV season’s ass when it comes to quantity and quality for us gay gals. We’re not just peripheral characters to fill a requisite quota. We’re integral to the plot, we’re the reason for the plot. We matter and better yet we’re making people care. And, dayum, some of us are hot. I mean, it’s summer – we should be hot. The days of summer TV being a wasteland are over. Step it up, Fall TV. You’re getting served this summer. I hope this Best. Lesbian. TV. Summer. never ends.

p.s. Further proof that this was truly the Best. Lesbian. TV. Summer. Ever., my dear friend Heather rightfully won the Zeebox $10,000 Get A Room Contest with her Heather Hogan's Summer TV Shenanigans Room.

Short Cuts

Hey, did you hear Beyoncé got a haircut? Of course you did. It was the STOP THE PRESSES news from last week, dammit. I for one applaud each woman who decides it’s time for an alternative lifestyle haircut. I don’t have the face for it, too round like a pumpkin. But I sure do appreciate others who can make it work. And, interestingly, so many are making it work as blondes. Do they have even more fun the shorter they go? For each straight lady who successfully goes Ellen with her locks, one bad lesbian hair joke gets forever laid to rest. Just don’t screw it up by brining back the mullet, fashion. You’ve already brought back high-waisted jean shorts and fanny packs. We can’t survive another era of business in the front, party in the back.

Some short hair, do care looks to enjoy along with Queen Bey’s.

Beyoncé

I can’t wait to see this styled and paired with a tuxedo jacket.

Charlize Theron

Marrying this haircut is now legal in 13 states and the District of Columbia.

Cate Blanchett

I’m kind of excited for “Blue Jasmine,” Woody Allen notwithstanding.

Carey Mulligan

I kind of think she should never have long hair.

Anne Hathaway

I don’t hate her blonde pompadour. I really didn’t.

Miley Cyrus

I really, really don’t hate her blonde pompadour. Really.

Pink

Blonde Pompadour + Visible Obliques = Nothing to Hate Here.

Tilda Swinton

Please, you knew she’d be on this list.

Lesbian Living: The Magazine

Sometimes I have to go in to work on a Sunday and my mind wanders. Like, a lot. Like, what if there was a Lesbian Living magazine? It would be like Southern Living magazine, but with more tips on how to fix your own plumbing. And comparisons of the softest flannels instead of hottest lipsticks. Yeah, like I said, my mind wanders. So I thought I would ask you kittens on Twitter to wander with me. And dammit if I don’t want to read every single one of your article pitches. Come on, ladies. Get writing. This magazine won't publish itself.

@dorothysnarker The best softball glove for your money.

— Leann (@Lann88) August 12, 2013

@dorothysnarker "How Many Cats is Too Many?" #lesbianliving

— Virgotex (@Virgotex) August 12, 2013

@dorothysnarker "she wants me to move in but I think we should wait until our third date: How to know when to rent the U-haul"

— Kate Terry (@reckingfolkie) August 12, 2013

@dorothysnarker "Honda or Subaru - which SUV is for you?" "Tents that won't make you look fat" "

— Grumpy (@GrumpyYetAmusin)August 12, 2013

@dorothysnarker Illustrated instructions on couples sleeping with multiple cats in the bed#LesbianLiving

— Holly (@EdgeOfHolzzoli)August 12, 2013

@dorothysnarker "Ten Tennis Shoes You Can Wear to the Office".

— Sofi (@SoftJay)August 12, 2013

Inquire within for subscriptions.

Your Weekend Crushes

As promised, here are some My Weekend Crush perks from you, my extremely generous friends. Please enjoy and let’s all crush on these amazing women together.

Dar Williams, for Sally G

If we really gave out Honorary Lesbian Hot Plates, Dar Williams might be the first on the list to receive the illustrious award. The longtime singer-songwriter, who Ms. magazine dubbed the “intellectual folk queen,” was a staple on the college progressive circuit in the 90s. And remains today a radical and resonate voice worth an honored straight-but-definitely-not-narrow spot on anyone’s favorite LGBT artist playlist. I mean, she wrote a song about lesbian pagans in 1996, come on.

Jennifer Beals, for Ying Z
Speaking of honorary lesbians, you can’t bronze enough hot plates to honor Jennifer Beals. Just say her name in a group of lesbians and you’re bound to get a low, involuntary moan from the crowd. Mmmm, Jennifer Beals. Because, let’s be honest, we all love a bossy Alpha sometimes. And there is no better than Alpha Bette. This Crush is dedicated to Sabrina Liu.

Zoie Palmer, for @jocool70
Some women are just lesbian catnip. (Please see above and Alex Vause.) And they don’t get more catnippy than Zoie. From the first moment her big, warm brown eyes pierced into our souls, we were hooked. I’ve stopped eating apples entirely out of hopes that one day Dr. Hotpants will pay me a house call. Hey, you have your dreams, I have mine.

Fabiola Gianotti, for Audrey Z
Italian particle physicist Fabiola Gianotti leader a team of the top physicists in the world that helped to discover a little insignificant thing called the “God Particle” last year (well, Higgs boson if you must be formal). Finding what could be the particle responsible for all the mass in the universe is just your average no big deal. Except the opposite. The achievement earned her runner-up status as Time’s 2012 Person of the Year. So if you ever hear anyone tell you girls can’t do math and science, tell them to stick it up their Higgs boson. But first, they’ll need Fabiola Gianotti to find it for them.

Michelle “Shelly” Jane Allen, for Andrea Shively

[Clockwise from Top: Andrea, Ty, Shelly and Gray]

They met long ago, in that galaxy far, far away. Shelly and Andrea, set up on a blind date to go see the 20th anniversary rerelease of “Star Wars.” Their relationship progressed like so many relationships – the adventure of late night phone calls, the excitement of Uh-Haul move ins, the thrill of parenthood and the sparkle of wedding rings. Shelly was a fourth grade teacher for 11 years and Andrea’s rock for 16. The couple adopted two sons together – Ty and Gray. In October 2008, before Californians voted in that most awful Proposition 8, they married. And though the last eight and a half years Shelly fought that most awful of all – cancer. First breast cancer, which was found when she was only 30. Then two years later she had preventative surgery to remove her uterus and ovaries. Two years later still a local reoccurrence of breast cancer popped up (found two days before their wedding day). Two years later again, thyroid cancer was found – this time in Andrea. Then on New Year’s Eve Day 2010, Shelly was diagnosed with cancerous Stage IV tumor in her tibia. Then it was discovered there was cancer throughout her bones – including a tumor pressing on her spine that forced her to quit teaching in 2012. Finally, in June of this year, at age 38, Shelly lost her fight with cancer. But the measure of a life is never its breadth or in simply breathing. What matters isn’t fame or wealth or power. What matters is the love we spread while we’re here. And while Shelly belongs to the stars now, Andrea, Ty and Gray remain a testament to that love on Earth. Rest in peace, Shelly.

Fostering our Future

The new fantastic, flashy, female-fronted shows of the season have received seemingly endless and endlessly deserving ink. We all love “Orphan Black” and “Orange Is the New Black,” like a lot a lot a lot a lot lot lot. But there’s a quieter, also deserving show of the summer that has been quietly revolutionary in its own way. And that show is “The Fosters.”

At its surface, it’s just another family drama. Big brood faces adversities large and small. Heartwarming familial love triumphs over everything. But there are also some obvious and and obviously important differences. This is a two-mama drama, a household led by two gay women who are in a committed (and now legally recognized) relationship. And this, this makes all the difference.

We humans are a visual bunch. We like to be shown, not told. We like to see what makes us different and makes us the same. In the absence of those visual and personal cues we have this terrible tendency to believe the worst in each other. Racial stereotypes. Gender stereotypes. LGBT stereotypes. Those stereotypes can breed bigotry, hatred and violence. Most of that – not all, clearly, but most – comes from ignorance. People naturally fear what they don’t know and don’t understand. So showing them, exposing them, to these things becomes even more important.

Television has always been a powerful medium for shedding light in dark places. Too often it gets used to feed us comfort and laugh tracks. But at its best it’s a mirror of our best selves. Of the world we should be seeing and need to see – a world reflecting our richness and diversity. A world where we’ve all got a place around that proverbial table. What we do once we get there, well, that’s on us. But we should all be allowed to sit together at least to start.

And that – taking the long road home – brings me back to “The Fosters.” TV has never shown us a more clear picture of lesbian parenting (sorry, Callie and Arizona – but that baby’s kind of a glorified prop) than this little ABC Family drama that could. A blended family, a multi-ethnic family, a LGBT family, a loving family – “The Fosters” is all these things, yet in the end just simply family. This is a show about a family, and while the individual components of this family may be different from yours, we all recognize its universal mission. Protect one another, support another, love one another. These are things we all understand.

So when we see two women doing these things for their family, even if on TV, it matters. It matters because it models – for those who have never seen or dreamed or realized it before – what an LGBT family looks like. That we’re no so scary, not so terrible, not so other. To quote little Scout Finch, “I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks.”

Of course, all of this modeling wouldn’t mean much if the show itself wasn’t so very solid. If you didn’t tear up at least once – something in my eye, it was something in my eye, dammit – during its 10-episode summer run then I attribute it to severe dehydration and recommend you drink more fluids immediately. Some shows just try too hard (cough, “The New Normal,” cough) to show the new LGBT family. But “The Fosters” didn’t have to strain to make us believe, it just got down to the business of showing us.

Whether it was how a lesbian family handles parenting alongside one of the children’s birth father or deals with embarrassment from another child about being nontraditional, the situations – and how they handled them – felt organic. This show could have easily been like an After School Special of the Week. But instead it made the mundane extraordinary. Parents, families, deal with the silly to the life-threatening and for the most part all they have is humor, grit and that all-important glue of love to get through them.

Lena and Stef, along the way, became TV’s first legally married LGBT couple since the Supreme Court overturned Prop. 8 and DOMA in the summer season finale on Monday. And in doing so showed people on the most basic level how what happens in Washington D.C. matters in the living rooms of everyday Americans across this county. Elections have consequences. Legal rulings change lives. Lena and Stef can get married and the government will recognize them as such. And, better yet, we’re happy it does – we’re happy for them.

In the end, “The Fosters” worked because we could always feel the love. It never waivers, and shone through every possible obstacle. Seeing truly is believing. I sure can’t wait to see them again in January.

Not what the Doctor ordered

Boring. Perfectly acceptable choice, perfectly fine actor, perfectly predictable result. No spoilers, just another white male Doctor Who. Like I said, boring. I mean, sure, instead of being a young white dude this time we have a slightly older white dude. Huuzah! Because middle-aged white men get so few breaks in this business, you know?

But it’s no so much the news from this weekend about 55-year-old Scottish actor Peter Capaldi taking over as Doctor Who that’s upsetting. And, yes, I know he’s a very good actor and very funny and very all of those good things. It’s that once you’ve been offered a glimmer of hope at a smorgasbord of endless wonder, to be given the same – albeit slightly older – dish seems a terrible disappointment. Really, mashed potatoes, again? I mean, I like mashed potatoes – who doesn’t. But, again?

That’s the thing about the world, the more we see the more we grow. And the more we’re exposed to, the more we want to see. I want to see great shows with great diversity because it opens the door to a whole new world. More can mean more interesting. Sure, not always. Sometimes less is more. Sometimes. But more gives us the chance to tell a different kind of story. A female doctor, a doctor of another race, a LGBTQ doctor. Anything, something. Just not more of the same. Same can be quite good, but it will never be more.

I watch shows like “Orange Is the New Black” and “The Fosters” and, yes, even “Glee” and I see racially, culturally and sexually diverse casts not led by a single white male and it is glorious. But they are still the exception, not the rule. NBC’s new fall lineup is entirely shows built around male leads. Time yourself and try to name 10 shows on broadcast primetime TV with non-white and/or non-male leads (that are not primarily a large ensemble show without a definitive lead) in less than a minute. After Shonda Rhimes creations, it gets damn complicated.

Look, TV producers, the time is now. The world is big. Take a chance, be different. Stop giving us mashed potatoes and expecting us to keep getting excited with each subsequent dish. And stop insisting it’s us ladies who keep telling we will only accept mashed potatoes (Really, Stephen Moffat, really?).

What I lament in the latest Doctor Who announcement isn’t the actor, who I am sure will do a fine job. But the missed opportunity to give us something so very new and so very exciting. Just like our taste bus, our minds need new flavors to stay alert. In a world that’s always bigger on the inside, why keep giving us the same superficial outside? Seems a shame, sweetie. A damn, damn shame.

p.s. I for one think they should have bent space and time and made River Song the next doctor. I mean, they fly around in a blue police box with a swimming pool in the basement, anything is fucking possible.