More of This

ice and cake

Your AI-free reminder that you can find or create joy while also feeling fear, rage, despair, and other prickly crap.

Can we have more of this please:

A little backstory:

Alysa Liu was a world champion figure skater. After the Beijing Olympics in 2022, at 16, she said “fuck this soul-destroying shit.” The mental stress and toxic training had worn her down. She hung up her skates, publicly announcing her retirement. Lui allowed herself to be a teenager, ffs. She filled herself up with everything she couldn’t do when her existence was 100% training and competing: she had a life, spent time with family and friends, attended UCLA, hiked to Everest base camp. She ate whatever she wanted. She. Ate. Whatever. She. Wanted. Two years later, her first ever skiing experience left her with an adrenaline buzz. She compared it to the high she used to feel on the ice, back when she loved skating. Was it still there? What would happen if she went back on the ice?

She laced up her skates then stepped into the rink. She didn’t immediately fall. In fact, when she tried the complicated jumps that won her championships years earlier, her body was like, we got you, remember how much you love this. At the ripe old age of 18, she came out of retirement. But on her own terms. She chose her coach, her team, her music. She decided on her outfits, her diet, and her training schedule. Her aim was to have as much fun as possible. Skip to recipe: she won an Olympic gold medal.

Ice skating doesn’t have a reputation for being a touchey-feely, lovey-dovey, nurturing environment. (I’m looking at you Tonya and Nancy). Cutthroat seems an apt word for this sport balanced on blades sharp enough to cut through ice. This is a group of people who have been calorie-restricted their entire lives, skaters are hungry and severely cake deficient. The difference between a W and an L can be a tight 1/1000th of a point.

And yet, there’s room for these competitors to cheer one another on, like Lui and her competitor Ami Naiki. Lui competing for the US won gold, Naiki bronze, for Japan.

Yes, it’s easy to be happy for someone when you beat them, but…Ugh, please, stop making me use words. Just go watch this video of different angles. On repeat. (Copyrights restrict me from embedding it here.)

@nbcsportsThe sport is in great hands. 👏 #WinterOlympics

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This isn’t fake. This is genuine joy for a friend, who is also a competitor.

Samesies for contestants on the Great British Bake Off. They’re…nice to each other?

In the reality TV hellscape where people are manipulated and edited to evoke drama, to tease out the worst, most melodramatic versions of humans for ratings, Bake Off contestants just want to bake their hearts out.

Our unhinged appetite for temper-tantrum TV provided the rancid filling currently smeared into the democracy shit sandwich we’re being forced to swallow.¹

Bake Off gives us cozy TV where we can all just get along, watch some cake porn, and feel energized by a dash of competitive action. Not the “I didn’t come here to make friends” flavor of competition, but the “I’m here to do my best and have a blast” kind.

Bake Off doesn’t offer its champions Olympic stakes and gold, but rather a humble cake plate and the possibility of a publishing contract. But the two events share a common principle: elite aspirants working to the very best of their ability. Their biggest roadblocks aren’t other competitors so much as themselves. It makes no difference how awesome they were in practice if they can’t pull out a show stopper in the tent (or the rink).

That doesn’t mean they have to hate their competition. In fact, it’s possible to respect them, even -gasp- become friends?

As each season progresses, one baker being eliminated each episode, it’s evident the remaining bakers form tight bonds of friendship. You can clearly see them rooting for one another, even assisting on occasion with a steadying hand, words of encouragement, or a reminder to check their about-to-burn caramel. Hugs of congratulations and condolences are shared liberally like sprinkles on a cupcake.

I can only imagine how much it would suck to propel yourself to the very top levels of competition only to lose; to enter hopeful and leave empty-handed. I understand winning in these situations is life changing: offering unfathomable earnings and opportunities.

But also: fun.

Notice how much Lui genuinely smiles while she skates.

Full disclosure: I have a long history of being a loser. From my early days of Little League where my team never won (I sucked horribly) to last month when I lost ten consecutive games of Uno to Handsome Hubbo, I haven’t racked up a lot of Ws. There was a brief stint in the 1980s where I was a regional spelling bee champ.

I am that weirdo who plays games, not to win, but because they’re fun. Except Monopoly. Every single thing about Monopoly sucks. Renunciation, a game of capitalism and karma by Kim Krans is way more my speed. Connect Four? Scrabble? Barbie Queen of the Prom? Taboo? Catchphrase? Pictionary? Telestrations? Apples to apples? Yes, please. Sure, winning is great, but have you ever tried to be on the team that has the most fun, the one that laughs the most?

Telestrations: pictionary meets telephone. I have no clue what any of this is, but it was funny enough at the time to take a picture.

Note: if you’re in the Savannah area, I’m available for game nights and will bring homemade baked goods.

use code CHEESEISJOY for 15% off of arty shit and art

I’m always open to ideas, suggestions, shenanigans, tomfoolery, collaborations, cheese, snacks, and field trips.

You can find my art here and here. I offer custom workshops and design. I am the proud guardian/custodian of a 17 year old cheeseburger named Patty.

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All photographs and art are by me, Rubi McGrory, unless otherwise noted.

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words and images © Rubi McGrory 2021-2025

1. Don’t get me started on how far from reality Below Decks is.