Oy with the poodles already!

Ramon reminded me yesterday that watching Gilmore Girls Season 7 when it arrives next week would only cut into my valuable novel-writing hours. Aack!!!

I own every season of Gilmore Girls.

Angelika, Meredith and I have been thoroughly entertained by its quirky insights (I don't think you're supposed to call a hymn gay. It's like a sin or something.).

I've soaked up valuable and unforgettable life lessons (don't sleep with Chris!).

I've stood in awe of Amy Sherman-Palladino's genius (she has much knowledge; we shall form a cult around her; build a statue many stories high; we shall grow our hair and stop bathing).

I've completely missed Season 7 due to the fact that our household decided not to hook up to television (you think I procrastinate now, you should see me with access to constant reruns of Clean House & Clean Sweep), and I have been waiting ever-so-patiently to view this last season (however poorly written by the new team).

(*Sigh* - the sacrifices I make for writing...)

So, since I have given myself a brief reprieve from writing to do some beading, and since I am making such an enormous personal sacrifice of holding off on Season 7 until December 1, I decided to watch some of Season 3 (my favorite) while I created jewelry last night. And that, my friends, is when I came to a horrible realization.

All this time, I fancied myself a pleasantly quirky combination of Sookie & Lorelai, and was quite pleased with that assessment. But last night, for the first time, I saw myself glaring back at me from none other than... Paris! (*gasp*) I even made my roommate watch Season 3, Episode 1, Chapter 3 when she got home... and she died laughing at the similarity (I’m not just talking about right now – in general, you need to calm down.)

As a further means of procrastination, I transcribed some of my favorite exchanges from that scene (because I couldn't locate a YouTube video of it!):

Rory: I have to go, Paris is melting down.
Dean: Why?
Rory: She has a date tonight.
Dean: Really?
Paris : Don’t sound so surprised!
Rory: How do you know he sounded surprised?
Paris : Because I’m a genius, Rory. I have deep and powerful clairvoyant abilities. For example, I can instantly deduce that when someone hears the word “Paris” in the same sentence with the word “date”, jaws will drop, confused looks will cover faces, words like “how” and “why” and “quick-Bob-get-the-children-into-the-minivan-because-the-world-is-obviously-coming-to-an-end” will immediately fly out of people’s mouths!

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Paris : Maybe I shouldn’t go. I mean, what if I fall for him and he doesn’t like me?
Rory: Then you’ll find someone else.
Paris : But, what if there is no one else?
Rory: Then you’ll buy some cats.
Paris : I wish I knew if he was right for me, you know, so I don’t put myself through all of this for nothing… I mean, women fall for men who are wrong for them all of the time, then they get side-tracked from their goals… they give up careers and become alcoholics and, if you’re Sunny von Bulow, wind up in a coma completely incapable of stopping Glenn Close from playing you in a movie.
Rory: I think you should wear your hair down