This blog post is less coherent than a lot of others. My mind has been a jumble of thoughts this week, and I guess this is just reflective of that. Sorry?

13 years ago Sunday, at 2:00am, my phone rang. A lifetime ago. 

My mom, telling me my dad was gone. 

It was yesterday, and it is a thousand years ago, all at the same time. 

My dad used to play the lottery every week, something that always surprised me about my no-shenanigans father. “It takes you from no chance of winning to a one-in-[however many, and he probably knew the exact number] chance of winning.” Kind of, “Why not try?”

The facts and figures and odds were probably something that appealed to his logical, research-chemist brain. You can’t win unless you play. You won’t have a chance unless you take one. The man was at one job for almost 30 years, though. You pick and choose what’s worth gambling on, I guess. 

I often think how lucky I am to have hit that magic lottery with those parents and brother of mine. Super supportive. Super understanding. Super progressive in small-town West Virginia. Being gay could have gone a lot worse.

They instilled the confidence in me to take a chance every once in a while. College in a big city away from home. Leaving an awful job. Moving in with someone. Accepting that sometimes, things are over and that’s okay because you can’t reason with crazy. Asking your work crush out after 10 years. 

Some hits, some misses. Acceptance of both, difficult things in their own ways. 

Sometimes you take a chance, and you lose. 

Sometimes, you don’t even have the opportunity to take that chance. 

He’s forever frozen at 59 in my head. Still healthy and active, ridiculously smart and dryly funny on occasion. Quiet and patient, able to do anything. At least in my mind. 

I am the loud, obnoxious, opinionated, independent woman my parents raised me to be. And one of the few things that makes me sad about my wedding day is that my dad couldn’t walk me down the aisle. 

He would have hated it. All that attention.

He never got to meet this most important woman in my life and be amused by her like the rest of us are. 

I see him in my brother sometimes. In myself sometimes. It’s a nice feeling. Makes him seem less…gone. Less abstract. More real. More solid. 

I saw a psychic once about a year after he died. The thought of him communicating with me was laughable, really. He hardly ever talked when he was alive. But the guy told me enough familiar things — specific things — that I thought it could be him. Some crazy shit, too, though — like about my romantic future being in California. 

Our second date a year and change later. At Disneyland. Yep. 

Always take that chance, because the odds can never be in your favor if you don’t even try, right?

I’ll be busy all weekend, which is probably good. Weddings and Kennywood and all sorts of other random shenanigans with friends and Chris’ family — both at the same time, in some cases. 

It’s not as difficult as it used to be. It does get better. But it never goes away. I don’t want it to, really. Because it’s a part of me. He’s a part of me. 

I wonder if he would be proud of me. Or disappointed. Or both. 

I know he’d love Chris. 

I wish they could have met each other. 

I wish he were still here. That part never changes. 

Happy weekend, friends. Hug your whoever extra tight and be happy they’re there. And always give yourself a chance, because you never know what could happen. 

WayHaught Wednesday

It’s been a long day, and yet here I am, sitting on the couch with Graham as company while Chris is asleep. The disadvantages of being on opposite shifts.

Thank God he is pretty stinking cute. 

My lunch break today consisted of taking part in a “power hour” where the Wynonna Earp fandom tried to get a hashtag to trend. The overall theme of today was WayHaught Wednesday, and I took part in that throughout the day. Towards the end of “pahr hahr” (yinz know ‘at’s hah we say shit n’at), I started tweeting gifts of characters who were victims of the Bury Your Gays trope, saying the show would never let that happen to our precious WayHaught. Simple. Easy. Difficult to choose. 

The first, my beloved Tara, the character death that made me nervous about getting invested in a gay character again. Tara, you got so much more interesting after you broke up with Willow, and then after you were both finally happy, they took it all away. Charlie from Supernatural, because Felicia Day is so amazing and so was that character. I chose Clexa from The 100, because even though I didn’t watch it, a good friend did, and she was traumatized by her death. Dana from The L Word. I quickly skimmed through a list of over 160 lesbian characters who met their untimely death and made my picks. 

My time was running short, so I switched to “we know you’ll let WayHaught end up like these couples” mode. Easy. Bo and Lauren from Lost Girl, obviously. Lesbian OTP of the century. And…um…oh, yeah. Graham and Megan from But I’m a Cheerleader. They rode off together in the back of a pickup truck, and so what it wasn’t TV? Next! 

Sigh. Damn it. So I tweeted a gif of Ellen and Portia. I realized things were desperate, so I googled. I quickly dismissed most of the ones I found. Bette and Tina? Ugh. I wouldn’t wish their relationship on my ex. Willow and Kennedy? Fuck you, list of 16. No way. Brittany and Santana? Oh, that’s a good one. Let’s quit while we are ahead, shall we?

WayHaught is so important because I had an easier time finding examples of dead lesbian characters than happy ones. 

WayHaught is so important because one — ONE — long-term lesbian pairing in recent history got their happy ending. (And I say “long-term” because I feel like I’m in the minority that really liked Callie and Penny together. Sorry, Calzona people. Please don’t wage war on me. Plus, I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of Callie at Seattle Grace, and we all know that her happiness is often temporary.)

The world is a confusing place for a young gay lady. I speak from experience. For every positive (legal marriage!), there’s a negative (senseless shooting in Orlando). For every build-up (I think I like a girl! I’m so happy!), there’s a tear-down (my “friends” started a rumor that I’m gay and my life is basically over). The value of a positive depiction of a queer couple (one confident, one figuring things out) can’t be overstated. 

WayHaught is important. WayHaught can make people realize they aren’t alone. WayHaught can save lives. 

We need a season 2 because we need more WayHaught in our world, for these important reasons and also because DID NICOLE HEAR WAVERLY SAY SHE LOVES HER?!

Also, WayHaught can make 39-year-old women turn into fangirls and enjoy every minute of it. 

Tropes Tuesday

I took a little break from blogging about my new favorite, Wynonna Earp. So yesterday, I only emailed SyFy and tweeted a handful of times. 

I’m such a slacker. 

I’m back at it today, but I’m at work, so I’ll be more concise than usual. 

Please try to hold back the tears. 

Here is a list of tropes that Wynonna Earp happily stomps into pieces. Some mean more to me — as a person, as a woman, as a…gay — but all are important. 

  • Butch/femme — badass ginger butch cop? Done. Same badass ginger butch cop in a gorgeous purple dress with soft flowing hair, a matching clutch, jewelry, and a dazzling smile? No problem. Handcuffs in the clutch? Check. This one is big for me because it’s so true to life. I am not in flannel and fixing shit every day, you know. Sometimes there’s makeup and baking. Complex people, lesbians. Nice to see it reflected. 
  • Strong female — I’m going to only concentrate on the Earp sisters here, but I could go through literally all of the female characters (even Chrissy!). All of the Earp sisters are ridiculously strong, and all are ridiculously flawed. All kick major ass and can handle anything, and all have questionable taste in men. (Maybe not so much Wynonna, but I’ll stand by the statement that sleeping with your great-grandfather’s best friend who is magically immortal is, at best, questionable.) They make good decisions and bad decisions; have heroic and (literally) evil moments. You know, like real people. They don’t need saving, but they’ll take it if it’s available, realizing taking help is a strength in its own.
  • Gender roles — sometimes the men do the saving, but often it’s the women. Both sexes make bad and good decisions. You go into the finale thinking that Bobo is evil and manipulated Willa, and you end it thinking maybe it was the other way around. Doc thinks pink is manly and can shoot a gun faster than anyone. Wynonna would look pretty in blue (and everything else) and loves doughnuts. Waverly is the brains and Dolls is the firepower, except when Dolls figures everything out and Waves busts out the sawed-off shotgun.
  • Sexuality — where to start? There’s Waverly being happy, not disgusted, that Champ sent her a pic of Little Champ. I was disgusted and felt bad for the other diner patrons, but that’s fine. There’s Nicole hitting  on the prettiest girl in town, confident enough to be patient and wait for what she wants. There’s Waverly realizing her Kinsey scale isn’t as much to one end as she thought. And there’s Wynonna having a one-night stand — well, two — with Doc and admitting it’s just sex (is that true? Who knows?). And that’s okay. It’s good. Sometimes, it’s just sex. And then there’s Wynonna talking about how she doesn’t always need a man to get her where she need to go, both to Waverly and to Dolls. 
  • Bury your gays — Wynonna Earp shot both of the main LGBTQ characters. Both of them. Neither died. In most shows, a lesbian will die from a bullet meant for someone else, despite the fact that science and physics dictate the fact that there’s no way the bullet could have killed Tara from that angle, damn it. Ahem. Sorry. Anyway, shot both of them. Neither died. Literally had a bullet-proof vest on one of them. This show doesn’t bury its gays. It protects them. It cherishes them. It loves them. Because they are adorable. 

Like, none of this happens on TV, and all of it happens in real life. 

Thank you once again, Wynonna Earp, for making it so the most realistic show on TV is about a crazy chick with a gun that sends demons back to hell. 

Thank you for your badass women who are also kind of a mess. 

Thank you for killing the tropes, not the gays. 


No, blog. I did not mean “anthrax on.”

Last Saturday, our friend Erin invited us to the parade at Anthrocon, AKA the furry parade. And by “invited us,” I mean that Erin said they were going and I maybe invited ourselves along. 

Thanks for getting that no left-hand turn sign in, Henry. 

It was such a great day. We had fun with Erin and family, even though her son was being an asshole (more about that here), and I’m super happy we went, even though it was a rough start. Unfortunately, we had to drive through Kenny Chesney concert traffic to get there. American flag shirts/hats/shorts, Bud Light, and day drinking led to a vague sense of discomfort as we drove through the usually somewhat progressive North Side. 

We finally got through that, though, and made it downtown to what I affectionately refer to as the Pegasus garage because it’s next to what used to be a gay bar (named Pegasus) I went to in my youth. 

As we parked and walked towards the convention center, my sense of doom started to leave. I don’t know what kind of crowd I expected, but it was so…familiar. I told Erin it felt like Pride. I saw other gays, mostly younger soft butches in fun t-shirts. 

Maybe something like this?

It was a good feeling to be in a crowd that was there to support people being themselves. Like, I may not feel a compulsion to go full Anthrocon myself, but I fully support anyone who needs to be a little “different” to be their true selves. 

It was a great, welcoming, wonderful experience. Thanks for sort of inviting us, Erin, and sorry I called your kid an asshole?

It was a great day. 

Inspire SyFy

So, today the prompt is to share fan art, fanfic, etc., in order to inspire SyFy to renew Wynonna Earp. 

Well, I can’t draw for shit, I’m not talented in terms of editing photos online, and I haven’t written fiction since high school. 

My creative outlet? You’re reading it. 

I’ve posted for several days now about what Wynonna Earp has meant to me, in terms of as a woman, a lesbian, a human, a fan, and all of the other things. You’ve read them, or maybe you haven’t. Maybe you’re busy. I don’t know your life. 

I have been in a creative rut for a while. I started this blog a while ago and did okay updating it sometimes, but despite amazing things happening in my life, I didn’t feel inspired to write. 

Photographic evidence. 

And then this mighty little show came along, prompting me to write about it. About myself. About my life. All from this  (amazeballs) show. I’ve been so inspired, and I’m so grateful. 

And when other fans read my words, it’s exciting. I’m a little part in this bigger picture, with 20 people (and one day there were 200!) being affected by my words. Sure, compared to the thousands and thousands being affected by Emily and the show, it’s not a lot, but it’s a lot to me. And the interactions online with the cast/crew and the other fans is like no other experince I’ve had. 

So I’m a tiny piece in this bigger puzzle, and it feels pretty great. It’s inspiring. 

Plus, it means I get to buy cool Fangirl Shirts. 

So, SyFy, let this (and all of the contact you get today, because this fandom has no chill) inspire you to renew for a season two. And three while you’re at it. 

Six seasons and a movie, maybe?

Too Female

Today in the fandom of Wynonna Earp, Too Female Day. 

Something I have never been accused of being. 


If anything, I’ve always felt some pressure — internalized or not — of being not enough female. Hair is too short. Sometimes wear guys’ clothes, especially t-shirts. Consciously wear my purse in public just in case I have to use the bathroom. I’ve been “sirred” too many times not to be aware of it. And I prefer to have my awkward interactions not in the bathroom. 

Women — myself included — are used to hearing they’re too (or not enough) whatever — too bossy, too mouthy, sarcastic, slutty. Or not feminine or ladylike enough, not nurturing enough, not pretty or thin enough. 

Despite my lack of femininity — or maybe because of it — I’ve always been drawn to female-centric shows. Laverne & Shirley. Mary Tyler Moore (though my mom tells me I mostly liked the cat at the end). Wonder Woman. Heck, even Days of our Lives, because that show would be nothing without Hope, Jennifer, and Carly.

Wynonna Earp outshines all of these, my friends. 

It’s women being women — all kinds of women, from Waves to Wynonna to Gus to Nicole to Chrissy (you go with your chloroform, sister!) supporting each other to be the best version of themselves. That’s just not something you see very often. You know, like a unicorn. 

In scenes with only women! Talking about things! Other than men! It’s 44 minutes of the Bechdel Test in 13-episode form. 

The men are important in this show — and fabulous and perfectly cast and OMG that mustache — but they aren’t always the focus of the storyline and sometimes aren’t even necessary. You know, just like real life. 

Women are used to hearing they need a man to get by. I heard some version of that quite a bit growing up, from my grandmother screeching, “Ain’t you trying to get yourself a man?!” when I told her I wore flannel to class (no — no, I wasn’t) to even my dad being concerned about who would take care of me after I nervously came out to him at 23. 

It’s okay, Dad. We take care of each other.

This show isn’t too female, or even not enough female. It’s just the right amount. 

Just like all of its characters. Different levels of female, all of them. Sometimes different levels in the same character. 

You know, just like real life. 

Photographic proof of the last time I wore a dress in public. 

Wynonna Earp is not too female. It’s just the right amount. Same with Wynonna herself — perfectly female, perfectly flawed. You know, just like in real life. 

Just like me and just like all of us. 

And if it is too female, well, it’s the ass-kicking, trash-talking, one-liner spewing, gun-wielding female I want to be. 

Life goals. (Copyright SyFy)

If you’re here because you’re a fan of this show, check out my last several posts. You’ll sense a theme. 

Fandom Day

Day two of No Chill Week. — Fandom Day. 

I have been a fan of many things but never part of a fandom. 

Until now. 

I don’t know how it started. Probably because of that crazy-special podcast where they said some stuff was happening on Twitter. I had an account but seldom used it. I think I got it originally because the wife suggested it…which is how I entered almost all social media — Facebook (that one was pre-marriage and dating), Instagram, and probably some others I don’t remember. 

I stand by this statement. 

I got quite a bit of interaction on that first tweet, and I was hooked. I had this instant community with which to talk about this show that suddenly meant so much. 

I often tend towards the lurker type — online and in regular interactions, especially if I don’t know anyone or just know them casually. I’m content to sit back with my beer, listen, smile occasionally, and watch the conversations unfold, happy to be an outsider. 

Well, not this time. 

This fandom is amazing. I have probably used Twitter over a dozen times more in the past two months than I have in the two years I’ve had the account. 

Science fact. 

I have always enjoyed writing and started this blog a couple of years ago to try to force myself to keep at it. The busier I am, the grumpier I am, and the less I write. When I don’t write, it makes me even grumpier. It’s a vicious cycle. 

This fandom has inspired me to pick up my keyboard and put words to the screen more than I have in ages. I’ll be forever grateful for that. And it’s put me in such a better mood all around since I have this creative outlet — something my wife is forever grateful for. 

“Thanks, Wynonna Earp.”

I am grateful to this fandom and am excited about what’s to come. Six seasons and a movie! We can do it!

Representation Day

So, I spent the day making notes for this blog post, part of a “No Chill Week” for my new favorite show, Wynonna Earp (because this fandom, myself included, has no chill). And, in true Monica fashion, I can’t find them. In an unusual twist, neither can my wife. 

So, as you’re reading this, just remember how good it could have been, I guess. 

Guys, Wynonna Earp has representation of all of the people — for days — and it’s a big freaking deal. 

First of all, though this is far less personal for me, let me say how awesome it is that a person of color is shown as a viable romantic lead. I’m not saying it never happens, but outside of a Shonda Rhimes show, it’s unusual. And it’s awesome and sexy and hot and believable and amazing. 

So, I’m a gay. As I have said many, many times before (just look at my previous three posts), it’s unusual to see myself onscreen. And it means something when I do. And if you’re used to seeing yourself everywhere, well, it’s not a feeling I can describe. Sometimes, especially in my younger days — you know, before I owned my awesomeness — it felt like I was the only person in this world like me. Gay. Nerdy. Et cetera. 

And Wynonna Earp gently picks up this “normalcy” of other shows — gay characters few and far between, disposable women only there to advance a hereronormative storyline — gently packs it up in its U-haul, and moves it to Canada, where it evolves into something else. 

Science fact. 

I literally could go scene by WayHaught scene and talk about why each and every word, touch, look, and heart eyes means something to me. 

But I will try and be succinct. 

Instead, I will talk about two scenes which really stuck out to me because of representation. They both take place in the penultimate episode of the season, “House of Memories.”

First, the good. Waverly descends the staircase, eyes only for Nicole, as they see each other for the first time at Bobo’s party. 


I know, I know. This is from that episode but not that scene. But the look is the same. Stay with me. I lost like an hour of writing time looking for those notes. (Photo copyright SyFy)

How many times have one of us wanted to see a woman look at us like that? I’m willing to bet a lot, and I’m willing to bet it has happened to quite a few of us. 

Myself included. 
But it’s so much rarer to see it on TV. That look — that one of love where your heart is ready to burst out of your chest because that other person is so perfect — it’s never me. Is never us. And this time it was. 

Thank you for that, SyFy. Emily. Kat and Dom. Beau. Everyone. Thank you. I love you. 

And thank you for the next scene, too — the one that is so much harder to write about. The one that I know so many of us have lived in one way or another but seldom see validated onscreen. That’s just as important even though it’s a thousand times more painful. 

I saw all that, you know. 

Not now, Champ. 

So you two are like together now, eh? That’s disgusting. Disgusting. 

I heard some version of this every day — Every day — for a very long time. From a lot of people. Sometimes from myself. And just because I can get married now doesn’t mean I don’t still hear it. It’s not always as blatant, you know. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes they don’t even know they’re doing it. But it’s there. 

And so, once again, Wynonna Earp shows me myself. 

Because representation isn’t always about the good. It’s important to show people the bad is still out there, because it is. 

Thank you for that, SyFy. Emily. Kat and Dom and Dylan. Beau. Everyone. Thank you. I love you. 

Representation is important. Even now — at 39, married, established, confident, happy — it means so much to me. If 15-year-old Monica — depressed, anxious, sad, lonely, alone, desperate to fit in, thinking she never would — watched this show, I can unequivocally say it would change her life. Give her a confidence in the knowledge that, hey, I’m not alone. 

“There I am.”

Tell That Devil

I’m up a little early on a Sunday morning (thanks to an early bedtime last night), I have my coffee and my Graham, and the wife is sleeping soundly downstairs. A lot of tasks await us today (most importantly, making a birthday cake), but for now, I’ve settled down to write this damn Wynonna Earp post I’ve been threatening to do for a week. Obviously, minor spoilers are ahead. So if you don’t want to know what happens without seeing it yourself, well, stop reading this and come back in a day after you’ve watched all 13 episodes. I can wait.

When I sat down to write this several days ago, I realized it was a much bigger story than I thought. I needed not one but two prelim posts about a movie and a show that moved me, and those were hard to write. I told Chris yesterday over delicious, delicious hot dogs at Franktuary that the Buffy post really brought up a lot of stuff I hadn’t thought about in a while (or ever). Who needs therapy when you have a blog, am I right?


Sausages Wieners for life!

I had been wanting to watch Wynonna Earp ever since I saw it advertised on Lost Girl, another SyFy/Canadian show that happened to be about a bisexual succubus. You know, the usual. Its finale aired, and, much to my surprise, it didn’t fill me with angst, mostly because [spoiler alert!]…the ladies ended up together. That never happens. Like, ever. And they did. It’s obviously more complicated than that, what with the difference between human and fae lifespans, but I don’t need to tell you that, right? Right.

So, I had been meaning to watch Wynonna Earp for weeks, but I hadn’t had any free time. Work was busy, I was trying to stay active, etc. You know, life happened. So one day, a free hour on my hands, I decided to watch the first episode. And I was hooked.

I watched eight episodes in the next 24 hours. In addition to work and laundry and also probably Zumba, because I am a suburban soccer mom with no kids.

I hadn’t seen a show with so much of…everything since Buffy. The writing and the humor were on point, more than any show I have seen in years. (And trust me — I see a lot of shows. I watch TV for a living, after all.) The relationships between all of the characters were just…brilliant, especially between Wynonna and her younger sister, Waverly. It’s filled with strong women everywhere — heroes and villains. And the heroes are flawed and the villains are sometimes good. It’s wonderfully, richly, perfectly complex. Once again, a show set in a supernatural setting is more real than anything else on TV.

Then…I got a little more invested.

I’m no stranger to podcasts (I generally prefer listening to them over the radio in my car, at least when I’m alone). I listened to a Buffy rewatch one for years, then one about Lost Girl, then the Nerdist podcast because Chris Hardwick is all of us and it’s so great to hear him geek out. But this WE one is special. Bonnie and Kevin are clearly such HUGE fans and discuss things in intricate detail about the episodes, and they have interviews with all of the cast. The podcast got me even more hooked — I started rewatching the episodes, looking for the things they talked about.

Then…my 39-year-old self fell into the Twitter hole, which has been interesting. New social media are hard, guys. But I try. I think I’m pretty funny and sometimes insightful. And if you’re a fan of the show, you should follow me, because that’s mostly what I tweet about (sorry, everyone else, but not really). It’s honestly been so fun and amazing. I don’t think I’ve been this invested in watching a show in real time in, well, ever. This fandom is amazing, and the cast/crew is ridiculously interactive and generous with their time.

Once again, I found people onscreen (and online) that I wanted to surround myself with. And I couldn’t have picked a better bunch.

[Okay, the real, legit spoilers start now. Stop reading this part and come back to it if you don’t want to know stuff! Scroll down and pick this post back up after the picture of the Unicorn at Anthrocon.]

So, I am a fan of strong women (I did marry one, after all), but let me talk for a minute about the men in the main cast. Both are absolutely amazing as their characters, and (and I’m secure enough in my homosexuality to say this) both are incredibly sexy. In a video hangout after the penultimate episode, when they were talking about Doc’s (Tim Rozon) “sex swagger,” I may have mentioned that I’m a lesbian and his sex swagger affected me. No big deal. And Dolls’ interactions with Nicole and how he totally knows what’s going on before Wynonna (and almost everyone else) does — priceless. Perfect. Incredible. It’s totally my favorite thing his eyes do.


Photo of these two handsome fellas courtesy of SyFy.

The supporting characters are so well-cast, too. They’re all three-dimensional, from mother-figure Gus to Sheriff Nedley (and his daughter) to all of the revenants. One of my favorite scenes features Chrissy Nedley, so proud of herself that she chloroformed Waverly to draw out Wynonna. That phone call is priceless and reminds me so much of vampire Harmony on Buffy. Also, where did she get chloroform? So many unanswered questions. And her character is also responsible for the “[Waverly] scissored a stripper” line.

I can even (grudgingly) appreciate Champ and what he represents. Tattooed arms so people think he’s a badass and one tiny tattoo where no one can see because he’s really probably secretly a wuss (a tattoo I have always referred to in my head as a Champ Stamp). He’s responsible for one of the most powerful scenes to me, too — where he calls Nicole and Waverly’s relationship disgusting. It hit me. Right in the feels. Because I’ve been there, and I know a lot of the fandom has, too. Hearing there’s something wrong with you, having it hit you in the face like an actual slap. Having to keep your cool and remain calm because you’re in public (which Nicole did) as opposed to losing it and feeling hot tears spill down your face at a restaurant (what I did).

Refusing to let it ruin your fancy party with your ladyfriend (Nicole) as opposed to having it ruin your Christmas Day (me).

Representation onscreen comes in many forms, and all of them are important. It means just as much to see a strong, powerful, sweet, (somewhat) butch ginger cop owning it and being true to herself as it does to see her reading the room and quietly dealing with some homophobic asshole. Well, trying to, until he threatens your lady and then you have to knock him down with one punch and cuff him, because you’re amazing. It gives me something to point to. “See? I’m not overreacting. People still think I’m disgusting, and that’s why, just because I can get married, the fight isn’t over. Stop trying to minimize me and my life. No one is trying to flaunt anything. We are just trying to live.”


And that brings me to the sweet, sweet pairing of Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught. A large part of my connection with this show. It’s a queer relationship that feels…real. On both of their sides. And one I can see myself in. I’ve been Waverly — approached and hit on by an intriguing woman, unsure what to do, how to react, what it made me feel; falling for this amazing lady but being afraid to show it; breaking down and making the first move because my heart will explode from my chest if I don’t. And I’ve been Nicole — confidently approaching this girl that I’ve been noticing and asking her out; sneaking glances at her and noticing her noticing you; being patient while she works out how she feels; looking super hot while doing it all. And their relationship is real to me, too — I’ve been the one hiding, and I’ve been the one hidden. Both are awful and exciting at the same time. And I’ve been them in the last episode — confident, out, happy, in love. Well, minus the possession, of course. So far.

wayhaughtPhoto courtesy of SyFy. Swoon.

One of my favorite things about these characters, though, is the fact that they don’t just exist for each other, especially Nicole. That was a pattern that Buffy fell into with Tara — at least until after she and Willow broke up. None of Willow’s friends knew her girlfriend (or wanted to, really). All they knew was that she liked Willow. Granted, that was enough for them, but as viewers, it really cheapened the character for us and made her less real. Well, not so much for Officer Haught. Her bonding and fighting with Wynonna while Waverly and her friends had girly “fun” time was so great and really added dimension to both characters. And her interactions with Doc and Dolls in the finale (and when she pulled Doc over for speeding) fleshed her character out even more.

It’s almost like a lesbian can exist on a TV show as a character in and of herself, not just to further a main character’s storyline. Like, maybe I am a fully functioning human with my own purpose and am not just on this earth to make the straight people’s lives more interesting. A novel concept.

Even though I connect so strongly with these two ladies, Wynonna Earp would be nothing without Wynonna herself. And Melanie Scrofano kills it. She’s so amazing. The entire cast is perfect, like I said, and and if you take one piece of this intricate structure away, it would all fall apart, but Wynonna is the cornerstone. She’s just so…real. Her reactions, her interactions, how she feels, what she does, who she starts as and who she becomes — all of it. And it’s so expertly played. She’s so flawed and also so perfect. She’s all of us. And Melanie makes us feel it all.

Let me just finish up with a few words about the creators of this masterpiece. Wynonna Earp is based on a comic book by Beau Smith, a fellow West Virginian. I haven’t read any of the comics yet, but the old ones (that the show is loosely based on) are on my wish list. And Friday, I came home to my wife greeting me at the door with “Hi. I got you a surprise,” and this was on the table.


Best wife ever.

They didn’t have issue 1 (and she liked two of the covers for issue 3, so she bought them both), so I have to wait a few weeks for the first one to come in before I read them. Well, I should wait. I honestly can’t believe I haven’t torn through them yet.

And finally, the show runner, majestic unicorn Emily Andras. I was a fan of her work from Lost Girl, so I had high hopes. I could blather on and on and on about how awesome she seems, from (obviously) this amazing show she helped create to her interesting, engaging interviews to her weird obsession with cheese, but I won’t. I’ll only say this. The lesbians of the fandom got very, very nervous because we were worried that our precious queer characters were in danger of death because they were, well, queer.


No reason.

Well, Emily took to AfterEllen to calm us the hell down and say that she had no plans of killing either of our beautiful non-unicorns this season. And we collectively breathed a gay sigh of relief and fell a little harder for this show. We’ve been burned before, Emily (see above), but you made us feel like we could commit without fear of it breaking our hearts. I packed up my metaphorical U-haul after I read that interview, and I haven’t looked back since.

And the finale aired, and it make our hearts soar! Love wins! This is amazing. And — oh, shit. WHAT HAPPENS NOW?!

Literal fandom train of thought.


Unicorn, not a lesbian. Maybe. I don’t know their life.

[Okay, we are back to just mild spoilers now. Safe to pick it back up. Welcome back!]

So, thank you, Wynonna Earp, for all of the above. For being that show that the LGBTQ community didn’t know we wanted but now absolutely know that we needed; for so completely filling every 44 minutes with perfection; for giving us honest, true, flawed heroes and villains that captivate us. Thank you for giving us this show, these characters, these storylines. The writing. The jokes! And even stupid Carl.

On a personal level, thank you for stoking a wave of creativity I haven’t felt in years. I’m writing more than I have in ages (blogging, tweeting, interacting online, and everything else), and it’s so appreciated. It’s making the rest of my life better — making me better.

I hope that there’s a season 2 (and a season 3-10), but nothing will touch this special first season. From what it did for a fandom, a community, and for all of us individually, that’s lightning in a bottle that won’t ever be replicated. But I can’t wait to see how season 2 will make it better.

Slaying It

So, everyone knows how much I love TV. If you’re only a fan of my supreme writing skills and don’t know me, well, I’m pretty sure it has come through. If you do know me, you know that my profession for the last almost-15 years has been to watch TV all day. Well, technically, for the last several, I watch other people watch TV all day, because supervising. But still. And then, after a long day of work, sometimes I come home and…watch TV.

I don’t watch as much as I used to. Life with Chris is pretty busy. Since we only are on the same shift about half the time, when we do have the opportunity to see each other, we seldom want to be apart.


Who can blame me? Heart eyes for days.*

Ahem. Where was I? Right. TV.

Some TV shows have really resonated with me over the years, and a movie or two has really hit home, as you might remember from earlier this week. Carrie Fisher made six-year-old Monica realize she might be gay. But I’m a Cheerleader made me admit that I was gay, and it started something else — the urge to see myself onscreen more.

The next show that made a big impact was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Sadly, I did not watch it when it was first on — a friend introduced it to me after it finished airing. Three of us used to watch it together after work, staying up till 1:00 in the morning with the people from Sunnydale. Then the other two started dating each other, effectively shutting the door on our group hangs, so I started watching it by myself. It was better that way, anyway, because he dictated which episodes were “bad” and worth skipping. No time for that, mister. All of the episodes need to be watched! Even Beer Bad!


A gift from those friends for doing a reading at their wedding. I guess it ended well for them.

[ Spoilers from BtVS are ahead. But it’s been off of the air for years, so, really, if you don’t want to be spoiled, watch the damn show already. ]

Once again, I saw myself onscreen, both in nerdy Willow and gay Tara. And also insecure Xander, demonic Anya, knowledgeable Giles, and even kickass Buffy. Probably not in Riley, though. Thank God. “This show is so real,” I remember saying, thinking how ridiculous it was to say that about a show that takes place on a Hellmouth. But it’s true — literally high school (and eventually college) as Hell.

I always had a soft spot for Willow — nerdy, awkward, adorable. Also, Alyson Hannigan. Then she went to college, got dumped, went a little crazy, and met Tara. And I was a goner.

There I was, on that screen again.

A friend burned me a copy of the Once More with Feeling soundtrack, and I listened to Under Your Spell on repeat. In my car. Getting off the phone with my GF so I could listen to it one more time. Sitting in the parking lot of somewhere (Burgh’s? Kings? I think the GF let me go for a rare night out — Chris must not have been going) listening to it one more time, feeling my heart swell as Tara sung her feelings to Willow, explaining that she was completely taken by her. Being sad that the relationship I was in wasn’t that; trying to come to terms that I would never have that and that’s okay. That’s just not the kind of person I was, and I wasn’t capable of those kinds of feelings. I was happy enough, GF was a good-enough person, and that was…enough.


I was wrong. It wasn’t enough. I’m capable of more than I thought I was, and this is the result.*

The day I got the box set, I came home from work at 11:00pm and announced to GF that I would be staying up and watching Buffy. She just shook her head, probably. I don’t know. Maybe it spun the whole way around.

She went to bed, and I let Buffy, Willow, Tara, and the gang keep me company. My heart swelled, making me feel less alone with that sweet, sweet box set in my TV stand. Making me feel less alone than the woman sleeping in the next room did.

It’s amazing what we tell ourselves is acceptable in life, isn’t it?

We broke up, obviously. Some BS about her not being willing to put me through being with her. Some stupid, ridiculous crap where she tried to make herself out as a hero when all she wanted was out.

Best thing that ever happened to me. Not an exaggeration.

Buffy kept me company in those months after. When I needed a laugh, I’d turn on Doppelgangland, my favorite episode. When I needed a cry, The Body was the obvious choice. Wanting to be scared out of my mind? Hush. Reminded of the kind of love I wanted for myself? Seeing Red, stopping a couple of minutes before the end.

I could take this opportunity to drone on for thousands of words about the “Bury Your Gays” trope, about how a gay is brought on a show (often a lesbian), and then she’s killed for no purpose other than advancing someone else’s storyline. I could ramble about the horrible, horrible message this sends to the LGBTQ community — gays deserve to be killed, they only exist as characters to further the straight people’s journey, if you sleep with someone of the same sex, you deserve to die — but I won’t. It’s utter bullshit, and it’s rare to find a show that doesn’t do it. Not to jump ahead here, but SyFy (and the country of Canada) does it right, both with Lost Girl and (so far) Wynonna Earp.

But I won’t. Ahem.

The day after our first official date (because we really had been pre-dating for the entire week and a half beforehand — sorry if this is a surprise to the people we hung out with [Heather, Beth, Amy, Sansón]), we went for coffee with her friend/my acquaintance (now our friend) Michelle and hung out at Barnes and Noble. I somehow convinced her to come back to my place, and we sat on the couch and…watched Buffy. My rambling about how Doppelgangland is the most perfect episode is probably why she agreed to continue dating me.

Every time I watched that episode afterwards, I thought of our sweet, special date 1.5. It made me feel even less alone than before.

Chris agreed to watch the entire series while she was in California, just because it meant so much to me. I am under no delusion that it meant as much to her as it meant to me…but the fact that she did it because I meant to much to her — well, suddenly, I didn’t need to watch Doppelgangland as often, you know?


And then she took me to the bridge from Under Your Spell because I married the perfect woman.

Up next in Monica’s Blogs About Media That Means A Lot To Her…Wynonna Earp. That’s what this was supposed to be, and then I started word vomiting about Buffy, and I couldn’t stop it. No fever, though, so at least I didn’t have to pull out the cowbell.

Until next time, friends, may your stakes be pointy, your pancakes funny-shaped, your candles extra flamey, and remember — the hardest thing in this world…is to live in it, love makes you do the wacky, and bunnies, bunnies, it must be bunnies.

*Photo credit to Laura Kathleen Photography