Tag Archives: Gilmore Girls

Oh Come On Gilmore

Couldn’t wait to watch the Gilmore Girls revival. Could. Not. Wait.

And

What the ever living he**?!

Okay, Lorelai and Luke: Yay!

Stars Hollow: Yay!

Emily: Yay! That DAR moment might have been the best ever. The giant painting was hilarious…and sad…but mostly hilarious.

Emily and Lorelai: Yay! 

Paris: Yay!!!

Doyle? Huh?!

32-year-old Rory: Uhhhhh, what?! I mean come on. When Rory was 16 and 17 and 18 and even when she was 22 some hard life decisions with real consequences led to or should have led to some real lessons, right? 

Okay. So, yes, Gilmore Girls is fiction.

And yes, Lorelai is not REALLY Rory’s mom.

But Lorelai Gilmore did not raise that milktoast, whiny, mess of a gal hanging on to, or sort of hanging on to, a guy with a fiancé. 

Sure destructive behavior was part of Rory’s growing up. But she grew up and she grew up good. We saw it at the end of season 7. And even when she told Logan no and rode off into the sunset to become the next Christiane Amanpour, we knew, we knew she’d be okay because Lorelai raised her and Stars Hollow raised her and Chilton raised her and even Emily and Richard and Luke and Sookie and Jackson…they all raised her, and they didn’t raise that empty, shallow creature who couldn’t to find a way to stand up for herself.

No way Paris is putting up with this Rory.

And what in the heck? Paul Anka, the missing dog, got more air time than Lane.

I know, I know. Gilmore Girls is NOT real. But geez, what in the heck? 10 years and that’s what you give Rory?

Boo. Just boo.

Thank goodness for Luke and Lorelai. That’s all I’m saying.

The thing about summer

During the school year I write from 7-whenever I stop because I know I have to work the next morning, I watch TV one night a week, I plan my week with writing front and center and I say things like, “I can’t wait for summer,” and “It’s going to be like I’m a full-time writer.”

And then summer hits. And I take a nap. And another. And another. I try new recipes. I go to the gym (some years). I take another nap. I read a book, I listen to a book, I read the paper cover-to-cover, I Facebook and tweet and take another nap. I get hooked on a TV show I can watch from season 1 to season 7 in one week (The West Wing, y’all. I can’t even. It is simply magical. Yay Donna and Josh!). And I take another nap.

And I write about writing. And I read about writing. And I look at my Pinterest board For Writers. And I take another nap. And I watch my tomatoes grow and I look at my gardenia and say “bloom, baby, bloom!” and I play with Emmie–who really wishes I’d just leave her alone and go to the office.

And then I reach today and it’s 7 p.m. and I’ve taken naps and done all the rest, but I’ve spent about four hours editing total in four days and I realize if this is full-time writing, my dream of making this my full-time job in nine years is never going to happen because studying the dialogue of Gilmore Girls isn’t going to get any books written.

So this is me saying it’s time to get real. I can sleep later and watch TV later and mess around on Pinterest later.

If you need me, I’ll be in the office. Writing.