PORTLAND, Ore. -- Every time Tonya Harding watches TV, she hears someone describe her character.
"They don't know me," Harding said Saturday outside her father's apartment. "There are a lot of people who say, 'I know Tonya Harding; I was a classmate of Tonya Harding,' and they talk about me. I don't know who these people are. I have never met them. People will say anything about you."
Today, the Multnomah County grand jury investigating whether Harding was involved in plotting the Jan. 6 attack on Nancy Kerrigan reconvenes. If Harding, 23, is bothered at all, it doesn't show.
Sunday, stories about Harding turned even more bizarre. The (Portland) Oregonian, reporting about Harding's marital problems with ex-husband Jeff Gillooly, said she walked into a health club last summer and said she "wanted Gillooly taken care of."
Days later, the newspaper said, she amended her offer and asked if anyone wanted to "beat up Gillooly."
Harding and Kerrigan are trying to practice for the Olympics. Kerrigan, whose knee continues to improve, spent the weekend in Los Angeles taping a Reebok commercial. She resumes practice today near her Stoneham, Mass., home.
Harding, who practices mornings at Clackamas Town Center in a Portland suburb, shopped Saturday for makeup with friend Stephanie Quintero, 23, a truck-stop waitress. They spent the afternoon "driving around," they said.
One stop: a Troutdale, Ore., coffee shop that serves a "Tonya Twirl." Said Harding, "It was neat. It has espresso, chocolate, cinammon and caramel."
Saturday night, before going out on the town, Harding and Quintero stopped by the apartment of Harding's father, Al. He was out playing bingo.
Harding's blonde hair was curled about her shoulders. She wore a white blouse, tight blue jeans and black western boots. She had a bright smile and was relaxed - as her coach, Diane Rawlinson, described all week.
Four men, including Gillooly, are charged with conspiring to commit second-degree assault against Kerrigan. While the grand jury must complete its work by Feb. 3, the world waits to learn if Harding is villain or victim, and if she'll skate in the Olympics.
Harding dismisses the latest charges against her character. Quintero defends her: "People need to be more open-minded about the situation. People are going by the media too much."
Harding is dying to tell her side but has orders from her lawyers not to talk about the investigation or media reports.
She is recognized everywhere she goes. Last week, Harding was surrounded by security on a shopping trip.
She said she's signed more autographs this week than ever. Fans see her in a car, follow her until she stops, then ask for her signature.
"I don't think of myself as famous," Harding said. "I'm normal with a special talent."
Neither parent, Al Harding and La Vona Golden, can afford a trip to Norway if their daughter competes in the Olympics. They battle the stress of events differently.
Al Harding, who appeared once before the grand jury and will again, went fishing Sunday. He jokes about reporters waiting in the parking lot outside his apartment.
"They are all on my Valentine's Day (card) list," he said.
Harding was Golden's fifth husband. She's nervous and scared. She's been a waitress, seamstress and chef but can't work because of artificial parts in her hands. She's on medication and says her blood pressure is near stroke level.
"I just wish I could line up all the reporters and tell them everything that's happened," Golden says. "There are so many things that aren't true."
Reports that she beat Tonya hurt Golden. Tonya says it. So do Rawlinson and parents of skaters who began their careers with Tonya.
Golden isn't close with Tonya but last week made a surprise visit to watch her practice. They hugged and had just enough time to find out how each other was doing. "My daughter needs love, attention and assurance," Golden said.
Golden said she tried to do what all parents do for a child: Offer encouragement and give help when needed. She sewed costumes and helped plan music for Tonya's performances. "I just didn't want her to have a life like mine," Golden said.
Golden admires her daughter's scrappy personality, which she discovered early.
"When she was skating, and I'd tell her it was time to go home, she'd stick her tongue out at me," Golden said. "I'd have to put on skates and go get her. . . . And sometimes, I'd almost have to spank her to get her to go home."
Al Harding, a laborer, is short with a big stomach. He wears white T-shirts and jeans. He lives in a small, second-floor apartment. As reporters camp outside, he finds escape routes to run errands without microphones in his face.
He taught Tonya to hunt, fish, fix cars and split wood. Her hunting skills matched her skating skills, he said. But, he adds, "That was all over once she saw the movie Bambi."
If he could have one day alone with his daughter, he says, he would take her for a mountain drive - in a truck.
Tonya wouldn't mind. Once, she was grand marshal for a parade in nearby Troutdale, Ore. With no convertible available, she tossed candy from the back of a truck.
"I said, 'Do I get to keep the truck?' " Tonya says. "I like jeans and flannels, but I can dress up and act like a lady when I have to."
Harding admits she is "tired" but says she's skating better than in 1991, when she was the first U.S. woman to complete a triple axel in competition.
She says she skates better under pressure, and there's no more pressure than now.
"On a scale of 1 to 10, I'd rank myself a 7," she says, hoping for the 10 at the Olympics.
