My Weekend Crush

Man, do I like a funny lady. I like a whip-smart, razor-sharp, lightening-quick funny lady who can cut a man twice her size down to a bloody stub with her precision word jujitsu. In fact, I particularly like it when the lady doing the dismantling one is a little lady. Because size truly doesn't matter, well, except maybe brain size. And one of my current favorite fierce, funny little ladies is Ksenia Solo. Her delightful Kenzi on “Lost Girl” is not only the Kenziest Kenzi, but she’s also a fantastic friend and foil to the big-hearted Bo. She’s the worldly grifter, the loyal friend, the practical survivor. And she’s just fucking funny. Much of this has to do with her comic timing, which is excellent. But also it’s how she throws her entire tiny frame into her work. As evidence of how much she brings to the role, by far the worst episode of the second season so far was the Kenzi-less one. Sure, there was no Dr. Hotpants either. But it was that very special Kenzi zing that was missing most. That sweet, sweet sass was sorely lacking. And, yes, you could also take the “s” off of “sass” and it would be true that that was missed last week, too. In short, Ksenia and her crystal-clear blue eyes helps put the guuuurl in “Lost Girl.” Too much? I can’t help it. I got temporarily hypnotized by those iceberg blues. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. Raise you hand if you also recognize Ksenia as Veronica, the real (not imagined, hysterical nervous breakdown hallucination) rival dancer to Natalie Portman’s Nina in “Black Swan.” Looks different without bangs, eh?

My Weekend Crush

I’ve never understood the forces against choice. Not just the choice over when and how and whether we as women have a child or not. Though that does baffle me to my very core. But the forces against choice, freedom, access and rights in general. Why limit and restrict when you can free and grant? Yet here we are, in the year 2012, and we are still fighting a basic fight to be in control of our own bodies, to be granted the full rights, to be free to choose how we live our lives. And to be honest, it pisses me the fuck off. Like when I heard this week that the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation, the world’s largest breast cancer organization, had bowed to political pressure and pulled its support for Planned Parenthood, it majorly pissed me the fuck off.

Komen has given Planned Parenthood about $700,000 in grants each year since 2005, which have funded some 170,000 of the breast exams and 6,400 mammograms. But now, that money has stopped. You can have whatever opinion you want on abortion. I certainly am not some sort of abortion cheerleader, but I also certainly respect the right and choice of any women to decide what happens with her own body. But this isn’t about abortion, because none of the Komen money went toward abortion. It went to what the Komen Foundation is supposed to be about – preventing and curing breast cancer.

Komen’s bullshit answer is it has a new policy where it does not fund organizations being investigated by local, state or federal authorities. And it just so happens that Republican Florida Representative Cliff Stearns has launched an investigation over how Planned Parenthood spends its money. Stearns, it should be noted, is virulently anti-choice and, just for good measure, also super anti-gay. Heck, he even wanted to ban gay adoption. How dare we try to be parents to those babies the women who did what you demanded and decided not to have abortions gave up for adoption!

But for the record, because it bears repeated repeating, only 3 percent – yes, THREE PERCENT – of Planned Parenthood’s patient care goes toward abortion services. The vast majority is contraception (35 percent), STD infection/prevention care (35 percent), cancer screening/prevention (16 percent) and other women’s services (10 percent). In case you’re doing the math, the other 1 percent goes to other services. Also, Congress has already banned the use of federal money for abortions. So while the federal government does provide a large portion of Planned Parenthood’s funding, it is already prohibited from using any of that money for abortion services.

I have been lucky in my life not to need Planned Parenthood services. But I have many friends who have. In fact one in five women in the U.S. has visited a Planned Parenthood health center at least once in her life. The organization helps millions of particularly low-income and minority women who would otherwise have absolutely no access to safe and affordable health care services. These are life-saving services like pap smears, breast exams, STD screenings and more.

So what’s this all about then? If the Komen money goes toward breast cancer screening and the federal dollars are already prohibited from being used for abortions? It’s about attacking women. It’s about denying us the most basic health care rights. It’s about controlling our bodies. It’s about making the choices for us. Well, we can make our own choices. We are in control of our own bodies. We are not political footballs. We are women. And you will now hear us roar. Donate to Planned Parenthood today, tomorrow and as long as it takes. Happy weekend, all.

UPDATE: UPDATE: Indeed, Komen has issued a statement saying it changed its policy prohibiting organizations under investigation from being eligible for its grants. It said “We will continue to fund existing grants, including those of Planned Parenthood, and preserve their eligibility to apply for future grants.” Given the debacle, this is a clear attempt at damaging fallout from this clearly political decision. While I am happy Komen has made Planned Parenthood eligible again for its grants, I have learned more about the organization that makes me wary of its motivations. Not only did it hire a stridently anti-choice senior vice president for public policy last year and its CEO is a major contributor to Republican political candidates. The good news, Planned Parenthood has received some $3 million in donations since this whole debacle started. The moral of this story? The women and men who support women’s health are legion. And we will not be silenced.

My Weekend Crush

Life affords us far too few moments of grace. Amid the mess and muddle of our everyday existence, we can forget what matters most far too easily. Amid the complication and conflict of our differences, we can forget what makes us all the same. Like many of you I have followed the story of Gabrielle Giffords from that terrible moment a little over a year ago when those first horrifying reports first came in of a shooting at congressional event in Arizona. And, like many of you, my emotions went from anguish and anger to amazement and admiration as the nation struggled to come to terms with what had happened. She has been, quite simply, awesome. To survive getting shot in the head is, in itself, nothing short of a miracle. But how she has conducted herself through this ordeal has been almost otherworldly. The courage she has displayed, the strength she has mustered, the compassion she has offered and the unbreakable spirit she has shown is more than a miracle. It’s pure grace. I had hoped, with all my heart, that this inspirational woman would defy the odds and stay in congress. But I completely understand and admire her reasons for resigning this week. And I think, in fact I know, that we have not seen the last of this extraordinary woman or her radiant smile. Thank you for your service, Gabby. A grateful nation wishes you a full and fast recovery. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. On a purely superficial note, because this is a Weekend Crush after all, hot damn does Gabby look smokin’ with a motorcycle or what?

My Weekend Crush

I love “Finding Nemo.” I loved it from the first moment I saw it at a dollar theater after it had long ended its regular run because I was too cool to go see an animated movie no matter how much everyone raved about it. Now, I own the DVD. I downloaded it to my phone. I may even have cuddly stuffed Dory. That last one was a gift, I swear. What I love most about it, besides being smart and funny and as adorable as can be, is that it makes me feel better each time I watch it. We all have that movie, the one we put on as a guaranteed mood lifter. Sure, there’s the Bambi-esque opening with its bad things that happen to good fish eggs. But then there is everything else. And everything else makes me just plum happy. In fact, it’s kind of my happy place. And, in January, I’m always looking for things to make me happy – this January is no different. So after a long, tiring, stressful week, I plan to put on a little “Find Nemo” and talk whale with Dory. And then, then I should be ready to just keep swimming through the rest of the year. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

So, remember when Leisha Hailey and Camila Grey were kicked off a Southwest flight for kissing? And we were all Rage! Indignation! Protest! That’s kinda hot! Because, let’s face it, the leading ladies of Uh Huh Her are kinda hot. All sorts of hot. And talented. And, yeah, hot. I’ve enjoyed Uh Huh Her’s seductive, melodic music from the start. Their sound is, for lack of a better word, sexy. I think “Explode” ranks among my favorite hook-up songs of all time. I’ve been a fan of Leisha’s music since before Alice Pieszecki was even a glimmer in Ilene Chaiken’s eye, when I found a Murmurs CD in the bargain bin and fell in love at first listen. But while Leisha has been out for ages, Camila only recently had an official coming out via Kissgate. So here we have this fantastic queer duo being fantastic together in public. Uh Huh Her made their national TV debut on Jimmy Kimmel this week. So now what we’ve known for years is being shared with the wider world, finally. And one would think they can only fall under their sexy spell as well. Well done, ladies. To celebrate, how about a kiss? What? It never hurts to ask. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

Recently, I came in possession of a mix tape by someone lovely which I promptly popped into my CD player on the way home. While listening to said mix tape (Fine, it’s a CD, but mixed CD sounds like something your financial adviser tells you to invest in. I think, I don’t know, I’m a writer. My financial adviser is a Magic 8 Ball) the song “Drive” popped up unexpectedly. Of course, being a gay lady, I am familiar with Melissa Ferrick’s “Drive.” How could you not be? But if by change you haven’t heard it before, hold onto your pants. Because they will spontaneously drop while listening. Also, um, you might not want to be in public.

Still for me, it had been a while since I listened, really listened to “Drive.” (I posted a fanvid featuring it not too long ago, but it was abridged and didn’t pack its full, shall we say, oompf). But if you do take the time to give it a proper once over, you will have to agree. This may just be the sexiest lesbian sex song ever. Like, seriously, ever. Fucking hell, that shit is hot. And that brings me back to Melissa. Seems like she has been around forever, always there bringing the dykeliciousness. For a while she was The Other Melissa. But she has always been her very own Melissa. And what that is one hard-working, hard-strumming, hard-loving sexy motherfucker. And she’s still right here, still out there, still making us ladies who like ladies swoon and sweat. So thank you, Melissa. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts and lower regions for putting delicious words and music to our deepest, dirties desires. Now, where did I put those pants? Happy weekend, all.

p.s. If you haven’t heard/seen her epic live performances of the song, well, just go ahead and take off your pants right now. Because she’s hot and hilarious. And it just saves so much time.

My Weekend Crush

Even at her most vibrant, there was always something tragic about Judy Garland lurking just under the surface. Something that allowed her voice, even when still just a teenager, to cut through the ages. It’s what made her so special. It’s what made her so irreplaceable. That it took so long for me to get to Judy, particularly considering the partial namesake of this blog and all, is in itself a tragedy. One which I must promptly atone for. For any woman who came up as an impossibly pretty prodigy, blossomed into a big-time marquee name and then metamorphosed into an unquestionably consummate showwoman. deserves her moment in the spotlight and then some. Because, sister, could that lady belt it out. Despite her problem, despite her troubles, Judy Garland was going to put on a show. And you, you were going to sit mesmerized by all the beauty, sass, power and emotion she poured into every performance, every gesture, every note. She just didn’t take us over the rainbow, she took us out of ourselves, if only for a moment. Happy weekend, all.

The Ingénue


The Showwoman


The Classic

Have yourself a merry little Christmas, kittens, with all the beautifully tear-stained children’s cheeks your little heart can hold.

My Weekend Crush

Charlize Theron is almost a cruel kind of gorgeous. It’s not the most accessible beauty, like a girl next door or sexy librarian or anything. She reminds me of an iceberg. Exquisite to look at, a little cool around the edges, but with so much more going on underneath. What I think I like most about her is her sophisticated, I don’t give a fuck attitude. Because she really kind of doesn’t. She says what she thinks, she swears with abandon and she doesn’t need to play beautiful in every role. In fact, I’d argue there are few actresses who have traded less on their beauty – especially of late – than Charlize.

It’s not that she just uglies up to win awards (though that certainly didn’t hurt with “Monster”), but I really don’t think she cares if she looks glamorous in pictures. Take “Monster,” take “North Country,” take “In the Valley of Elah,” take “Sleepwalking,” take “The Burning Plain,” take “The Road.” And now “Young Adult.” The wardrobe departments on these pictures probably cost about the same as a good used Honda Civic. And, just as interesting, Charlize isn’t all that interested in playing nice. Not in her next two pictures at least. In both “Young Adult” and “Snow White and the Huntsman,” she played decidedly un-nice. Heck, I believe “Evil” even gets bandied about in the latter.

And that’s what helps make those movies, and her, so very interesting. Well, that and her passionate stances on causes like women’s rights, reproductive rights, gay rights and the plight of her native South Africa. See what I was saying? An iceberg. A crisp beautiful, beautiful iceberg. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

Change can be a real bitch. It doesn’t comes right when you want it to. It always takes forever. Sometimes it seems it’ll never happen. But, still, we never have to stop trying, stop fighting, stop working to make it happen. So each step toward change, however small, is something to celebrate. Something to embrace. Something to hold up as a reminder that, yes, change is coming. It always comes. It is the only inevitability in life besides death. And that, in itself, is a change. So this week, when Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton stepped before the United Nations in Geneva and gave a speech declaring gay rights human rights. This isn’t a baby step. This isn’t even a regular step. This is history.

God, I love this speech. Hillary spoke for 30 solid minutes about gay rights. It is, quite simply, extraordinary. A few excerpts (but really, watch the full 30 minutes – you will not be sorry).

On human rights:

“Some have suggested that gay rights and human rights are separate and distinct; but, in fact, they are one and the same…. Like being a woman, like being a racial, religious, tribal, or ethnic minority, being LGBT does not make you less human. And that is why gay rights are human rights, and human rights are gay rights.”

On religious objections:

“This is not unlike the justification offered for violent practices towards women like honor killings, widow burning, or female genital mutilation. Some people still defend those practices as part of a cultural tradition. But violence toward women isn't cultural; it's criminal. Likewise with slavery, what was once justified as sanctioned by God is now properly reviled as an unconscionable violation of human rights. In each of these cases, we came to learn that no practice or tradition trumps the human rights that belong to all of us.”

On freedom of expression:

“Universal human rights include freedom of expression and freedom of belief, even if our words or beliefs denigrate the humanity of others. Yet, while we are each free to believe whatever we choose, we cannot do whatever we choose, not in a world where we protect the human rights of all.”

On creating change:

“We need to ask ourselves, ‘How would it feel if it were a crime to love the person I love? How would it feel to be discriminated against for something about myself that I cannot change?’ This challenge applies to all of us as we reflect upon deeply held beliefs, as we work to embrace tolerance and respect for the dignity of all persons, and as we engage humbly with those with whom we disagree in the hope of creating greater understanding.”

Chills, really, chills. Clear, direct, eloquent, forceful. It’s everything we want our leaders to stand up and say to the world. And, like Hillary herself admits on the speech, our “own country's record on human rights for gay people is far from perfect” and we “have more work to do to protect human rights at home.” No, the Obama Administration’s record on LGBT rights isn’t perfect. No, neither Obama or Hillary fully support gay marriage – yet. But still, this speech is a landmark worldwide. A message to the corners of the world where being gay is still a crime. A clarion call for equality across the globe.

You can read her full transcript here.

Her speech could not be more of a contrast to the new political ad put out by Republican presidential candidate Rick Perry also put out this week. In it, the want-to-be President of the United States says:

“I’m not ashamed to admit that I'm a Christian, but you don’t need to be in the pew every Sunday to know there’s something wrong in this country when gays can serve openly in the military but our kids can't openly celebrate Christmas or pray in school. As President, I’ll end Obama’s war on religion. And I’ll fight against liberal attacks on our religious heritage. Faith made America strong. It can make her strong again.”

When people scoff about voting and say, “Oh, who cares, politicians are all alike,” show them these two videos. Sure, sometimes it’s hard to find perfection in our leaders. But then consider the alternative.

p.s. As distasteful as it is to watch, I urge you to take a look and then click the “DISLIKE” button to help make Perry’s hideous spot the most disliked video on YouTube.
p.p.s. But it’ll make your day infinitely better knowing that that Perry wore Heath Ledger’s iconic “Brokeback Mountain” jacket in his big, dumb anti-gay ad.

Hillary ended her spectacular speech with a call for change, that ever elusive yet always present creature. And it urged everyone to get on the right side of history. It’s what makes me know that no matter how hard the Rick Perrys and worse of the world try, they’ll never be able to truly stop change from coming. Delay it, sure. Aggravate it, definitely. But history has proven to have very little patience with those who deny its progress. As Hillary said, “no matter how long the road ahead, we will travel it successfully together.” Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

Amber Heard is proof that God loves lesbians and wants us to be happy. I mean it, just look at her. Look at her. Truth be told, I tried to resist her charms for the longest time. She’s kind of too perfect. I tend to prefer a little imperfection – a rough edge, a quirky tick. Something that hints that this specimen of humanity is indeed all-too human. But Amber, Amber is the dream. She is the ideal. Sometimes, when I see pictures of her on the red carpet, I can’t believe they’re real. Those artists in the Hollywood dream factory couldn’t have drawn her up better themselves.

But aside from being just gorgeous wrapped in ridiculously gorgeous, she is that even rarer of creatures – a Hollywood starlet who is out and proud. I can’t really over emphasize the importance of this, particularly in light of all the talk recently about on-screen outing. No one had to out Amber. She did it herself. She did it before she was famous, before she was on the billboards. She showed up at events, arm-in-arm with her beautiful girlfriend and called her as much. She goes to protests. She speaks for equality. No one has to whisper and wonder. She shouts it with pride herself. Her openness about her sexuality is almost more beautiful than she is. Almost. Just imagine if everyone in Hollywood felt the same way. She is that daily reminder that we are everywhere, and sometimes – just sometimes – we even look like Amber Heard. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

I have very few stead-fast winter traditions. I don’t put the decorations up on a certain day. I don’t roast chestnuts on an open fire. I don’t rush out to sled at the first fallen snow. But, come on, I live in California so that last one isn’t really my fault. What I do always do is open presents on Christmas morning (not Christmas Eve, that’s just impatient crazytalk). I always watch “The Snowman” with my family (well, when I’m with my family). And I always start playing Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson’s “Winter Song” on an endless loop. Here after a day of much turkey and lying flat, I finally feel ready to admit that winter is well on its way. So now, now I’m ready to press play. Something about this song with its delicate melancholy makes my heart just melt. It’s a harvester of light through cold, dark nights. I fell in love from the first second I heard it. And, once the season changes back, I fall in love all over again. Welcome, winter. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

Goddamit, if I “2 Broke Girls” more doesn’t make me laugh like an idiot. I know, I know – there are still some problematic racial overtones. Though, thankfully, they’ve begun toning those down a bit. And, no, it’s not necessarily high art. And, yes, I still think the horse is crazy. But, fuck it, sometimes you just want to chuckle uncontrollably at the sight of two girls stuffing cupcakes down each other’s shirts. Plus there’s absolutely no denying the comedic and comely charms of Kat Dennings. She’s really why I tuned in in the first place. (Well, that and friendo to the lesbians Liz Feldman writes for the show.) While Kat’s delivery bothered me at first, it has developed a nice rhythm now that is her own distinct style. I also like that she’s not a bean pole (we’ve got the equally delightful Beth Behrs for that already). Heavens, does her waitress uniform fit her tightly nicely. I hadn’t seen Kat in much before the show. But from what I can gather she’s a geek dream girl alternative to Zooey Deschanel. For those who prefer their ladies with a little more vavoom and a little less cutsie. And I have this unstoppable urge to touch her oversized upper lip. And her milky skin. I think they’d be soft – so soft. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

Clearly, I’ve had Adele on the brain the last 24 hours. And it seems so cliché to say you love Adele, because everyone loves Adele. Women, men, vertebrates, invertebrates, inanimate objects, imaginary friends. It’s impossible to not be awed by her voice. It’s criminal not to be moved by her emotions. Also that chin dimple? I fucking love that chin dimple. I really think Adele is one of the most beautiful women in music – not just her spectacular face, not just her spunky personality, not just her sublime voice (though sweet merciful Zeus, her voice), but her sane attitude about her art and self. She’s so refreshingly herself, so very outside of the corporate expectations of what a successful singer looks like in this day and age.

As Adele said herself in her Rolling Stone cover story earlier this year:

“My life is full of drama, and I don’t have time to worry about something as petty as what I look like… I don’t like going to the gym. I like eating fine foods and drinking nice wine. Even if I had a really good figure, I don’t think I’d get my tits and ass out for no one. I love seeing Lady Gaga’s boobs and bum. I love seeing Katy Perry’s boobs and bum. Love it. But that’s not what my music is about. I don’t make music for eyes, I make music for ears.”

Adele is gorgeous, and in a way that reminds you talent just needs a stage and a spotlight to shine. There’s nothing wrong with letting it all hang out, so to speak. But we also need to see it’s possible without the tits and ass. Talent is just talents. It doesn’t need any additional adornment to transport you someplace at once outside yourself and intensely personal. Also, there is no better therapy than singing at top volume in the car to Adele. “Someone Like You” in particular has saved me thousands in shrink fees. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Reflection

It had been, for whatever reason, a long week. I don’t know why, but my birthday week always sits heavy on me. It’s not the actual act of getting older, because we do that every day. Perhaps it’s just the reminder of one’s own mortality. Small speck. Enormous universe. Silly, I know. And in so many ways it has been a perfectly lovely week. Calls. Visits. Cards. Gifts. All of the wonderful birthday wishes from all of you wonderful people. I couldn’t be more touched, kittens. You’re too sweet, as always. Yet still, every year, the week ends with a strange sense of not entirely melancholy, but quiet reflection. There is so much unnecessary misery around us sometimes – violence, injustice, inequality, greed. So sometimes, sometimes I just like to remind myself that we’re not just a bunch of hairless apes with an unusually advanced ability to use tools. We are also kind, loving, generous souls who believe in the magic of each new day. I posted this once before on my Tumblr. And since then I’ve actually played it for myself several times just as a little reminder. This is summer solstice in Poznań, Poland with 11,000 paper lanterns set to Mumford & Sons. Every once in a while, we tiny humans do beautiful things. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

I feel like I’ve been watching Martha Plimpton my whole life. Probably because I pretty much have. I mean she was in “Goonies” – “Goonies,” people. Then there were her River Phoenix years where unfortunately her relationship sometimes overshadowed her great work in movies like “Running on Empty” and “Parenthood.” Heck, she even gayed it up for us (with Ally Sheedy no less) in “Chantilly Lace.” Granted, I can’t recommend the film – it was one of those forgettable rentals during my Watch All The Lezzie Movies phase. But still, it’s always a nice gesture, regardless. And through the years she just kept popping up again and again. She went from mainstream movies to indie flicks, TV to Broadway. Working steadily and just doing what she does best. She is a master at playing not your average pretty girl. She was the smart girl, the funny girl, the interesting girl, the different girl.

And now, well now she’s found a home playing the hilarious mom (and grandma – don’t worry, a young grandma) on “Raising Hope.” I can’t say enough about how much I enjoy this show. I had less than zero expectations about and only started watching because I was too lazy to turn the channel after “Glee.”. But week after week it just continues to impress and make me smile. What’s great about it, and Martha’s character, isn’t just the zaniness. But while lots of shows can be zany, this one does it with real heart. These characters, who could easily just be tired stereotypes of hapless poor folks, are fleshed out. We really like them, warts and all. They’re endearing and charming and just an all-around hoot. And it’s Martha’s uncanny ability to be both over-the-top and totally relatable that holds the show together. She’s crazy, but in a believable way. Like, you know, family. Which is why having her back on my TV again week after week just feels right, like coming home. Happy Halloween weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

Julie Benz is like milk and honey, with a shot of bourbon slipped in when no one is looking. That’s why 14 years ago Joss Whedon picked her to be the first thing we saw on screen to show us not to judge that proverbial book by its proverbial cover. That a show called “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” wasn’t as silly as its name. And that a blond-haired, blue-eyed, innocent in a schoolgirl uniform could turn into bumpy foreheaded, big-fanged undead killer. There’s more than meets the eye here. Since then Julie has continued to defy our at-first-glance expectations. She’s not just the pretty, wholesome blond. She’s also wickedly sexy. You can see it with a cock of her eyebrow – that delicious flash. Whether she’s the stripper with a heart-of-gold and an unexpected eye for the ladies on “Desperate Housewives” or the damaged, fragile single mom who turn into the humanizing force in the life of a cold, calculated psychopath on “Dexter,” she manages to surprise. Yet there is one thing about her that I think would be exactly as you’d expect. When she laughs, you just know she’d be a lot of fun to have a cocktail with, or several. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. You know, not that you asked, but I wanted to offer corroborating evidence on that whole wickedly sexy thing. What can I say, I’m thorough. French toast, anyone?

My Weekend Crush

Man, I missed Paget Brewster on “Criminal Minds.” We shall speak of that long, horrible, Prentiss and JJ less season no more. But now that the band’s all back together, you can really appreciate what Paget brought to the show. She has a wonderful empathy about her. And she looks fantastic wearing a bullet-proof FBI vest. Though as much as I love her on “Criminal Minds” – and I really, really do – the show has never been able to fully showcase her fantastically silly sense of humor. Those who remember her from her “Friends” days (Kathy, the gal both Joey and Chandler dated) and her “Huff” days (as Hank Azaria’s wife, Jesus how many shows has that guy had?), know she is a skilled comedian. In fact, all you need to do is watch one of her visits to Conan to know she’s a pure delight. And you won’t find a more joyfully dorky dancer. Plus, did I ever tell you about that one time she kissed a girl? Oh, Paget. Welcome back to my TV, honey. Man, we missed you. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

I’m not over it. Still. Almost a week later, it makes my little gay heart weep. Still. I just can’t stop thinking about the “Warehouse 13” finale. Still. Much of this is because of the wonderfully suggestive open-mouthed acting of Jaime Murray. Her HG isn’t exactly a poker face when it comes to her desires. But just as much, if not more, is due to Joanne Kelly’s subtle, poignant portrayal of Myka. Her cool, rational Agent Myka Bering has always been the perfect counterpoint to the excitable, overgrown Labrador that is Agent Pete Lattimer. But with the introduction of HG, we’ve peeled back another layer to see her warm, vulnerable heart.

What shipper long suspected, Kelly confirmed at Comic-Con this summer when she confirmed that Myka and HG “fell in love a little bit.” But in the finale, she gave a clinic on all the ways to say “I love you” without ever saying I love you. It was wonderful and terrible and something I won’t soon forget. That’s stick-to-your-ribs storytelling. But it wouldn’t have worked without Joanne, whose character has really grown the most on “Warehouse 13.” From uptight and by-the-book to badass and unexpectedly sensitive. Also, I’m a sucker for that long, lean smart yet slightly geeky type. She’s a charmer that Joanne, and a looker. And a heartbreaker with one look – or, in this case, many. Dammit, that pocket watch better do a lot more than tell time. Happy weekend, all.

My Weekend Crush

Melissa McCarthy is having more than a moment. She is having an era. Sure, maybe not necessarily in length, but definitely in importance. Breakout star status doesn’t usually happen to 40-something, plus-sized women. And when I say “usually,” I mean ever. But here she is with a brand new Emmy on her mantel and a blockbuster comedy hit on her resume and a highly rated sitcom on every week and more movie deals and TV deals coming her way and a hosting gig on “Saturday Night Live” this weekend. It’s just, well, it’s just great. And I can honestly say it couldn’t happen to a more likeable and hilarious gal.

To just say Melissa was funny in “Bridesmaids” is like just saying the Grand Canyon is a big hole in the ground. Sure, it’s true, but it’s a massive undersell. She was pee, or in this case poop, your pants funny in that movie. Her Megan was a singular cinematic creature - a confident, pragmatic, butch, sexual and loveable oddball who you laughed with more than at. And out of all of that, I think the confidence of her character was the most amazing attribute. We’re used to funny women in comedies being neurotic messes. They fret and thither, over-think and under-appreciate themselves. But not Melissa’s Megan. Confidence made that character more than just the punchline, it made her a heroine.

And that all came from Melissa, who has made herself a new kind of comedy heroine for us all. Of course, some of us knew years ago when she was the sweetest little chef in all of Stars Hollow. Let’s hope her era never ends. Happy weekend, all.

EDIT: To the skeptics who doubt it when I say “breakout star status doesn’t usually happen to 40-something, plus-sized women,” it really doesn’t. Ages when they found breakout success: Roseanne Barr, 36; Oprah Winfrey, 32; Anna Nicole Smith, 26; Liza Minnelli, 26 (also not exactly plus sized at the time); Queen Latifah, 19; Nikki Blonsky, 19. Also, Rosie O’Donnell got her talk show at 34. So, no, sadly almost never.

My Weekend Crush

I can pretty much take or leave dinosaurs. And, if dinosaurs were chasing me, that would tip strongly to the side of leave. But I love me some Shelley Conn. So, therein lies my latest rub. Should I watch the new Fox show “Terra Nova” with its dinosaurs and that jarhead from “Avatar” just because the luminous Shelley is in it? Or should I skip it and just continue to troll the internet for pictures of her and rewatch clips of “Mistresses” and rewatch “Nina’s Heavenly Delights” and troll the internet some more? Like I was saying, the rub. Of course now I’ve mentioned Shelley and the word “rub” in close proximity twice and I’m going to need a moment to, uh, collect myself. Please talk amongst yourselves. Topic? Better kisser: Anna Torv or Laura Fraser? Only Shelley knows for sure.

That Shelley is lovely has never been in question. When all of Shelley’s loveliness would be readily available to US audiences has. The British import has stayed mainly on that side of the pond, until now. “Terra Nova” comes with big credentials (Steven Spielberg slumming in TV!), but still sounds a little like Jurassic Park with a time machine instead of DNA cloning. For some reason I can’t get pumped for the concept of humans traveling back in time to colonize prehistoric Earth (again, dino ambivalence). But I think I owe it to Shelley after years of coveting her deliciousness while snogging with the likes of Anna and Laura to give it at least a go. Suffice it to say, if Shelley gets eaten by a T. Rex in the first episode I will be a very, very unhappy camper. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. This photo is very much Shelley. She is just at an angle so it might be hard to tell. Trust me, I know the difference between a Shelley and a Padma.

p.p.s. No, really. It is Shelley. Really, really.