One Sweet Day?

Yes, I know that my Mariah Carey fandom sits wrong with lots of my friends and readers, but look: the sister and I go all the way back to 1990, when I bought her first album. I've been singing her songs into toothpaste tubes and loofah pads for 16 years—not just the singles, but the album tracks, the frigging B-sides (remember B-sides?)—and having stayed right by her side through the lean years of Glitter and Charmbracelet, it's not like I'm going to bail in the midst of her radio Renaissance. There is simply nothing to be done. I come with Mariah. It's a package deal. (And some of y'all out there who rag me on this but then get pippy and excited about Kelly Clarkson, I say, Heal thyself!)

So, though I will be teaching tonight—screening Paris Is Burning and Sandra Bernhard's Without You I'm Nothing for my Queer Cinema students, and therefore missing the Grammy telecast—I am rooting for my Emancipated girl, my tragic mulatta. A fan like me thinks back to 10 years ago this month, when Mariah headed into the ceremony tied for the most nominations (as she is this year), and promptly lost every. single. one. Reader, that can't happen this year. "We Belong Together" deserves some haul, at the very least in the Female R&B Solo Vocal category. "Mine Again," admittedly a tad oversung, and plagued like so much Mariahana with lame vestigial coloratura at the end, is still an inspired nominee in the Female Traditional R&B Vocal category. Song of the Year, where she is the only Record of the Year nominee to appear, is probably out of her reach, but if she loses to friggin' U2 or John Legend, I'm out. No way they'll give her Album of the Year, but a fan can dream.

I repeat: Just don't make her go home empty-handed. This girl had ZERO game face in '96, and just sat there glowering and stewing in the audience as all of her gewgaws drifted away. I can't watch that again, even in replay. And I certainly can't take another round of dish-smashing and Mariah di Lammermoor insanity. Act right, Grammy voters.

Meanwhile, over on Bravo, I want to see either Kara (especially) or the weirdly tail-spinning Nick (his work has been pretty wack since the Nicky Hilton ensemble) on the chopping block. Daniel V.'s immunity, secured last week, should free him up nice and good, to which I say, Daniel—take one of those relaxed moments and wave hello to me.