SI had a good report, which makes me wonder if he has earned the right to be this much of a Diva

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Johnny stories were everywhere. He skated while wearing a glove he'd named "Camille." He called himself "princessy" and spoke of "doing his hair and fake face" before competing. He wore his CCCP Soviet-era sweatshirt while warming up in practices. He had taught himself Russian and said that while Plushenko was modern Russia, he -- Johnny -- was Baryshnikov-era Russia. He mopped the floor in the village because it was filthy. He went clothes- and shoe-shopping in Turin with Philadelphia TV newsman Vai Sikahema, the former Eagles kick returner, preening and gushing and handing Sikahema half a dozen shopping bags to carry. A self-proclaimed "fashionista," he bragged about his python and beaver fur coat.
People who didn't like him, Johnny told Brian Cazeneuve of Sports Illustrated, "generally are very stodgy and set in their ways and very red-state-ish," while the people who were his fans were "a blue-state crowd and may have little eccentricities." He grew up in Amish country and learned to jump in ice patches in the cornfields behind his house. He studied Kabbalah before even Madonna studied Kabbalah. He watched Desperate Housewives and The Simple Life with Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie, and his favorite musician was Christina Aguilera.
It was, for a few wondrous days, Johnny's world, and we were just living in it.
Then came last night, and Johnny's world collapsed. The bus schedule was changed, or perhaps he misread it, but the result was that he arrived at the arena about 20 minutes later than he'd have liked.
"I never caught up with myself," he explained after skating a bizarre free program that started well with a beautiful triple axel-triple toe loop combination and quickly went downhill from there. He doubled a planned triple axel, balked at a planned triple flip and seemed to be aimlessly making things up as he went along. Actually, he was making things up as he went along.
"The changes were on the fly," he explained. "I didn't get comfortable tonight. I'm pissed. I'm teed off. During warmups the crowd was amazing. I heard cowbells and all the different languages yelling things, and I didn't feel my inner peace. My biorhythms were off. My aura wasn't white. It was dark inside."
So the lights were turned out after all. Inside Johnny Weir. Oh, woe is me! The angst!