— CiaoCatherine

The 100th episode of Gossip Girl aired Monday night. “G.G.” surprised me in a few ways, including Blair’s decision to go through with the marriage itself, and the fact that it showed it’s final hand by revealing the true identity of Gossip Girl.

That is, if we are supposed to believe that Michelle Trachtenberg’s slithering Georgina Sparks is actually Gossip Girl. She crows something akin to, “Like a phoenix from the ashes, I am reborn!” in her “I’m baaaaack, bitches” sign-off missive as the camera pans from her tiny hands to her chop-licking face. I don’t buy this for a second. I am still unclear as to how Serena and Nate were able to “take down” Gossip Girl after all this time, but I think the real Gossip Girl, the Kristen Bell-voiced omnipresent force of chaos, is lying in wait. Perhaps completely in cahoots with Georgina-as-marionette, but Gossip Girl has demonstrated far too much strategy in her machinations to be Georgina Sparks, who, by the creators’ own admission, would take down herself if it created a ruckus.

To paraphrase Heath Ledger’s Joker: some girls just want to watch the world burn.

I agree with Kelly Conaboy of Videogum who said, “Blair doesn’t let a God she didn’t believe in until two seconds ago stop her!” When Blair marches back out into the sanctuary against the protests of Chuck Bass, perpetual thorn of her heart, her best friend, Serena, and her very smart and reasonable-sounding mother, I thought, “There is the Blair we’ve been missing this season, the Blair who does what her gut tells her and bulldozes everyone around her.”

I took the royal marriage plot for a lost cause until those thrilling final moments, when Prince Louis leans in during the couple’s first dance and hisses, “Smile, Blair, smile for the cameras.” The happy prince shows his true colors, after seasons of vascillating between long-suffering admirer of Blair and creepy, controlling royal brat who pays clinical therapists to commit sabotage and private investigators to stalk his beloved. I knew something was up when Blair first arrived at the wedding-day brunch and Louis shakes his head, in disbelief of his good fortune. “I’m marrying Blair Waldorf; I’m ze luckiest man in ze world.” I suppose we are supposed to believe that up until the mass-texting of Blair’s embarrassing confession, Louis was prepared to love Blair, flaws and all. I think he’s probably having secret incestuous sex with his mom, or sister.

The final surprise, of course, was Blair’s decision to call Dan, not Chuck, for her escape. I won’t let myself believe the writers will let “Dair” happen in earnest. This interview made me wonder how deeply Gossip Girl and other cult shows can be directed by their fanbase’s desires for certain pairings or plot twists, since the “will-they-or-won’t-they” arc came after fans clamored for it.

Over Thanksgiving, my aunt gave me two small, round soap bars in a brown paper bag. Or so I thought. One is a solid shampoo bar, the other a conditioner bar. She’d procured them from Naples Soap Company, not far from her home. Word was spreading about the incredible healing properties of the founder’s special-blend sea salt soap, concocted with the explicit intent of battling psoriasis and eczema. Having tried a Lush solid shampoo bar once upon a time, I was dubious. Plus, I shampoo my hair very infrequently.

Fast forward to Christmas. In a packing frenzy, I’d thrown both bars into my bag, unsure of what supplies I’d last left at my parents’ place.  And boy, am I glad I did. They are amazing.

Fun fact: I have a lot of hair. A lot. And I go through large bottles of various cheap conditioners (alternating between Trader Joe’s citrus scent and Suave coconut – classic!) like the water that accompanies each condition. And sometimes I feel guilty about the amount of plastic waste this generates.

The conditioner bar is small – I thought it wouldn’t last more than a few washes – and here I am a month later, with near-daily use, and there’s plenty left. It’s amazingly moisturizing, and the smell is as strong as it was when I first used it (a rarity for “bar” bath products – I find that most bar soaps get a weird musty smell pretty quickly, or lose any discernable scent entirely). My hair is softer for it, quite the feat in this daily battle against dry winter air, indoors and out. And I feel better about not having to throw out a plastic bottle every two weeks.

When I replace my current supply of bergamot grapefruit bars, I’ll be trying some of the famous sea salt soap as well. I’m a sucker for citrus scents, and intrigued by this “regular” bar soap labeled “Florida Sunrise.” What would that smell like? Home, I hope.

When I was a student at Cambridge I remember an anthropology professor holding up a picture of a bone with 28 incisions carved in it. “This is often considered to be man’s first attempt at a calendar” she explained. She paused as we dutifully wrote this down. ‘My question to you is this – what man needs to mark 28 days? I would suggest to you that this is woman’s first attempt at a calendar.’
It was a moment that changed my life. In that second I stopped to question almost everything I had been taught about the past. How often had I overlooked women’s contributions?

— Sandi Toksvig.

Thanks to  Sarah, for reminding me again of this quote, and reminding me we have a long way to go in shifting our own paradigms.