Not Afraid of Life Page 21

However, there were things in Alaska that needed tending to—bills, a dentist appointment, and other loose ends. I told Deena that I needed to make a quick trip to Alaska during the week, and she decided to send Mark with me! He’d never been to my wonderful state, so he was pumped as we headed to the airport at 6:00 A.M. Wednesday morning for a flight. (It was a faster trip than my five-day truck trip.) Then we drove to Sonja’s Dance Studio (Wasilla’s only one!), where Piper and my cousins learn hip-hop, jazz, ballet, and tap dance.

  When we arrived, hundreds of little girls were all lined up to welcome us. They had signs that read Shake What Your Momma Gave Ya; Dance, Bristol, Dance!; and Team Palin. Also, after the difficult presidential election and the tabloid Levi drama, it just felt wonderful to be doing something that had nothing to do with politics or scandal. The entire town seemed to be behind us, and it was wonderful to show Mark all of that small-town support. We rehearsed a few nights right there in Wasilla.

  Mark said he just wanted to see a moose, so he went to a wilderness park (where he got within five feet of a grizzly bear) and got to see porcupine, caribou, eagles, and bison in their native habitat. Yes, and moose. He also got to fly in a seaplane and see glaciers from above!

  I also got to show him my home, where Mark got to meet my mom, my dad, and Track. Mom was so happy to meet him because she was thankful I’d been paired up with such a patient gentleman. She also, in one mortifying moment while cameras rolled, imitated my “shimmying” move and asked, “How did you teach her to do that?”

  I thought I was going to die! It just goes to show that all teenagers are sometimes embarrassed by their moms, no matter how famous their moms are.

  It was a whirlwind trip. Mark and I hopped on the red-eye back to Los Angeles so we could rehearse on Friday and over the weekend. On Monday we were to perform the quickstep, and I was a little nervous. There was a part of the routine that I just couldn’t get right no matter how hard I tried! The trip—though fun—had taken up valuable rehearsal time.

  When it came time to perform, everything began well. The team of Rick Fox and Cheryl Burke did the jive, then Florence Henderson gracefully danced the quickstep with her partner, Corky Ballas. Notice the last name? Florence’s partner was actually my partner Mark’s dad! (It was fun to be with Mark and his dad on the same stage. They got along so well, and Corky kept my mom up to speed on Dancing with the Stars progress via e-mails.) When judge Bruno Tonioli said her performance reminded him of Driving Miss Daisy, everyone booed. Don’t mess with Carol Brady, Bruno!

  But there was more booing to be done that night. A few contestants later, Jennifer Grey and her partner, Derek Hough, performed the jive—and the audience ate it up. At the end of their very good dance, they both collapsed on the floor to show they’d given it their all. The audience rose to its feet and applauded. Like always, they made their way from the judges to cohost Brooke Burke, who was waiting for their postdance interview. But when their scores were announced—solid 8s!—a loud boo came from the audience.

  It was so unexpected, it was impossible to ignore. So, on live television, Jennifer awkwardly turned to Brooke and asked, “Why are they booing? What’s the booing?”

  Brooke obviously had no idea. The cameras quickly shot back to cohost Tom Bergeron, who by this time had made his way to where my mom was sitting in the front row. This made it look like the boos were somehow directed at Mom.

  When she was first on camera, Mom was shaking her head—agreeing with the audience’s reaction to Jennifer’s low scores. Tom went on as planned, asking Mom some softball questions before asking her what she thought of the judges. This is where all of Mom’s skills honed on the campaign trail came into play.

  “It’s like before a hockey game, you’re not going to chew out the refs before your team is up! So you’re great,” she said, turning to the judges. “You guys are doing great! Bristol the Pistol, that’s who we’re rooting for!”

  Well played, Mom.

  As soon as my mom’s interview aired, blogs lit up all over the Internet.

  “Was Sarah Palin just booed on DWTS?”

  Even Time magazine—the hard-hitting news mag that it is—weighed in on the subject, claiming that the Los Angeles audience wasn’t too fond of “Momma Grizzly.” Typical mainstream media . . . always thinking the worst!

  Tom Bergeron later came to our defense and told the public what everyone in the studio audience already knew.

  He explained, “Last night, the booing heard was a direct response from the audience to Jennifer and Derek’s scores, which were perceived as relatively low.” He also explained it to the media later to straighten out the issue. He even called it “boo-gate.”

  It’s funny how nothing my mom does can escape criticism!

  We were the last to perform, topping off a night that contained the infamous Michael-Bolton-in-a-dog-collar performance. I was nervous as we waited our turn; I just never could get part of the steps down. My nerves were calmed just knowing that Mom, Willow, and Piper were out in the audience grinning from ear to ear! When I went out there, I had no fear. And guess what? I nailed it!

  Though I still didn’t love dancing, I felt like I was getting the hang of it. The next week, Mark said that I was starting to think like a dancer, instead of like someone learning dance moves. I thought that was a nice compliment . . . which I needed to hear to get me through all of the work!

  Every Friday through Monday, we worked at least fourteen-hour days. There was always something else we needed to practice, a costume that needed hemming, a step that needed to be mastered, a photo that needed to be shot. We even filmed our dances so I could watch the moves on my iPhone when I wasn’t in the studio! It was almost as hard as being out there fishing with Dad in Dillingham. (No, actually, it wasn’t even close!) Mark and I began working on my facial expressions because judge Bruno had said I wasn’t dancing with my whole body. So I practiced smiling and “emoting” along with my dance that week.

  Talk about getting in character! Mark and I decided to wear gorilla suits for our performance! Everyone was laughing at us, because we were having a great time when they did our “backstage shots”—jumping on couches, beating our chests, and generally “monkeying around.” I think the other dancers thought we were ridiculous, but at least we wouldn’t be forgotten.

  Lauden, Willow, Heather, and Juanita’s daughter Jenna all came down for this performance because it was my twentieth birthday. When we did get the lowest scores of the night—just 18 points!—I didn’t care at all. I’d butchered the steps, but so what? I was surrounded by so many good people that the competition didn’t matter. (It was similar to the warmth I felt at the GOP convention, when I was able to withstand the chaos because of my family’s presence.)

  A few days prior to that night, Mark had surprised me for a little pre-birthday fun. He knew my family loved hockey, so he secretly decided to try to get me tickets to an L.A. Kings hockey game. After calling around, he scored front-row tickets! I was so surprised. He didn’t tell me where we were going, but we drove into the parking lot of the Staples Center. I couldn’t stop smiling! Both Mark and I were given custom jerseys, with our last names on the back, and they put a birthday greeting on the big screen for me! The enormous players skated so well on the ice. Since we don’t have a professional hockey team in Alaska, it was a treat for me to go to an NHL game. Plus, we met Vince Vaughn, who sat near us, and a couple of the players after the game. It was so cool to meet him!

  Also, someone else gave me tickets to an awesome Blake Shelton concert at Club Nokia that was part of his All About Tonight Tour. The crowd sang along to his songs and cheered when he said, “You don’t know how nervous I’ve been about performing here in L.A. I’m just glad that there’s some hillbillies like me out here!”

  I loved it! I’d been in Los Angeles for so long that Blake Shelton was a breath of fresh air. I always listen to country music, and I felt
that he was totally normal in a city of people made of plastic. The people I met in California were so obsessed with their bodies, their clothes, and their cars. They’d talk about getting silicone injections to make their butts look bigger or liposuction to make them smaller. They had philosophies about how to have the best nails or the poutiest lips. They’d talk about the latest fashions and compare the newest Mercedes and BMW styles with much fervor and disagreement. I could never really weigh in on the controversy, though. I kept my opinions on the Dodge versus Chevy truck debate to myself. There’s nothing necessarily wrong about the way they lived, but being consumed with image is just not something I’m used to. I always related more easily to the receptionists than to the pro athletes and Hollywood starlets.

  So the country music concert was so much fun for me. I was in the front row, and Blake Shelton winked at me when he sang. (I laughed when the two guys beside me were thrilled because they thought he’d winked at them!) I also got to go backstage and meet him and was so touched when he called me “America’s sweetheart.”

  “Well, your album was the first one I bought on iTunes,” I told him.

  Mark had been so nice to me that I didn’t expect even more on my actual birthday! However, after our low-scored performance, Mark, some friends, and I went to a cool place called the Mint. Mark had a cupcake delivered to me, with a candle and flowers, and he sang “Happy Birthday” to me from the stage. It was a sweet moment, a nice ending to a difficult week performance-wise. Plus, it felt kind of good to say good-bye to my teen years! (I was officially no longer a “teen mom”—something to celebrate.) Erika from Juneau came to that show and it was so nice to see her. In fact, the whole experience was a wonderful reunion, something my friends and family were able to gather around, which was pure fun!

  Sadly, that week Florence Henderson and Mark’s dad got sent home. Florence was such a wonderful “mom” figure for everyone. She remembered everyone’s name, including production assistants, producers, and cameramen. She was so kind with everyone, and it was no surprise that she delivered a very gracious send-off speech when she was voted off. Mark was disappointed to see his dad go, because they so enjoyed hanging out backstage and going through rehearsals together. However, her departure was less terrible because she was always in the audience afterward, cheering us on.

  Week after week, Mark and I made it through, and we lost friends who’d been voted off. Plus, the schedule got even more intense. The longer you last in the competition, the harder you have to work because you have to learn more dances. Since there are fewer dance teams left, we had to start doing even more media interviews. One particular day, I had rehearsal from nine in the morning until five in the evening. Then I shot a public service announcement from six until ten at night. From ten until midnight I did a photo shoot with In Touch.

  Oh, and speaking of the public service announcement, I filmed that with Michael Sorrentino, publicly known as “The Situation,” from his hit MTV show Jersey Shore.

  Because of his filming schedule, he arrived a couple of weeks later than everyone else. Honestly, I was worried. Would his personality throw everyone’s balance off? Would he be abrasive and rude? Would he constantly be referring to himself in the third person?

  However, nothing could’ve been further from the truth. We got along so well, in spite of our different backgrounds. I also found it interesting that he was so business-minded. While it might not shine through on Jersey Shore, he is always thinking about and strategizing about business ideas.

  When the Candie’s Foundation called and suggested Mike and I do a commercial together, everyone thought it was an odd pairing. I told my mom I was going to do it, and she thought it was hilarious. (I thought it was hilarious that Mom knew who Sitch was!)

  You may have seen it on television or online. But it starts with him checking me out before he realizes it’s me.

  “Excuse me, miss,” he says. “Have you ever had a situation with the official situation?”

  I think the word situation got used so much in this thirty-second PSA that it should’ve probably been retired afterward.

  “I hope you’re as committed to safe sex as you are to those abs,” I said to him.

  “Just in case you do get into a situation, I want to make sure you are situated. Because if you do get into a situation, with your situation, you may end up with a situation.”

  “Trust me, I’m not getting myself into another situation,” I said. This commercial had only a skeleton of a script. The rest we ad-libbed, which is why at one point, we exchanged a few too many “for reals.”

  For real?

  For real, for real.

  Anyway, Sitch got some silly lines in. For example, he said, “I totally respect abstinence. I mean, it actually has the word abs in it!” When I asked if he practices safe sex, he said, “I practice all the time!”

  Many people criticized me for being in a commercial with this guy, but I thought it was exactly the right way to reach an audience not used to hearing about the option of waiting until marriage for sexual activity, and how difficult it is to be a teen mom. After all, you don’t want all of this conversation to be aimed at church youth groups!

  It was actually one of the most fun times I had while being a Candie’s Foundation spokesperson.

  So, on top of all the other DWTS work, this PSA was actually shot during our season. Again, there were lots of publicity shots, camera blocking, and wardrobe fittings, but not too many really intense workout rehearsals. Oh, and we had lots and lots of hair, makeup, and spray tanning—we even had “body makeup”! I’d have to sit in that chair for hours upon hours, which gave me a lot of time to satisfy my Craigslist addiction for real estate deals and trucks. If you are one of the few people who haven’t discovered its joys, it’s an online network of free ads. If you need a job, a car, or someone to teach you Spanish, it’s a good place to start. Since the hair and makeup sessions were so frequent—and long—I’d frequently pull up Craigslist on my iPhone and shop around. I could tell you the price of any used vehicle in Alaska by the time Dancing with the Stars had finished wrapping. It was then that I saw a nice house for sale in Maricopa, Arizona. I didn’t have any real connection to that state; I just knew its housing market had tanked, and my desire to find a good deal kept me prowling around the real estate ads. I bookmarked the house and hoped I’d be able to stay on the show long enough to afford it. Surfing Craigslist—though potentially expensive for someone like me—allowed me to escape from watching negative coverage of me on the show. Because I didn’t read what people were saying about me, I was surprised to find out that my continued success in the show was causing a bit of a stir.

  First of all, people complained that my mother’s “Tea Party supporters” had organized some sort of conspiracy to help keep me in the competition. The speculation had gotten so out of hand that legitimate news organizations (and I use the word legitimate loosely) began doing reports about the mysterious phenomenon that was keeping me on the show week after week, in spite of (ahem!) comparatively low ratings from the judges.

  In fact, executive producer Conrad Green had to go on record defending the show’s voting process and said he was mystified that people were complaining so loudly about my continued participation. I tried not to take it personally. I’d really improved over the course of the show, and no one was giving me credit for it! Well, no one except the people who counted . . . voters who kept calling in their support. (Thanks, by the way, to all who called!)

  But the controversy didn’t die down. One man in Wisconsin was so angry I’d advanced to the next level that he actually screamed “that’s f—king politics!” before shooting his television with his shotgun. Then, he turned the gun on his wife, sparking a fifteen-hour standoff with police. I read about that and told my mom I’d buy his wife a new television set.

  Then I heard from other “fans.” A letter was sent to the production
offices addressed to me, but instead of a note of adoration, inside there was white powder. Police, firefighters, and the FBI showed up at the studios to investigate the “death threat” against me, but determined the substance was merely talcum powder.

  Even though I never was rated too highly, I didn’t take the criticism from the judges personally. I figured there was so much bad stuff on the Internet about me, what could they say that was worse? While some contestants talked back to the judges and were devastated at the slightest critiques, I just took it with a grain of salt. Anyone who’s rocked a cranky toddler to bed at three o’clock in the morning or wondered how they’d pay a bill knew this competition wasn’t real life.

  However, it was hard not to take the tension among the contestants personally. At first, no one looked at me as a threat, and everyone was really kind. However, as each week passed, people got a little colder. I noticed some of the contestants rolled their eyes when they realized we’d survived to dance another day. A lady in wardrobe got me the wrong size Spanx (an undergarment that helps you look your best under costumes that leave little to the imagination) and went to get the right size. While I stood in the makeshift “changing room,” a temporary structure that allowed us to change behind paper-thin walls, I heard her say, “Bristol’s such a b—ch.”

  As luck would have it, Mark came in at the exact time and heard her comment. The ever-protective older brother, he confronted her. “What did you just say about my partner?”

  Even though Mark was friends with everybody on the competition, relationships began to strain when they were voted off before we were. They literally would not speak to us—or even acknowledge our presence!

  All of this over a dance competition and a pretend disco ball trophy?

  At the same time that a poor television in Wisconsin met its demise and the white powder insinuated mine, there was even more controversy.

  Apparently, a comedian with very little material decided to get media attention by using me as a punch line in her stand-up routine. She said that I was the only person in the show’s history who actually gained weight over its course. She even called me the “white Precious,” a reference to a movie about an obese African American girl impregnated by her father.