Real Housewives of New Jersey made me want to just give up last night in several occasions. It opened on the culmination of the throw down between Dina and Danielle. It went something like this:

Dina: I’m a reasonable human being who is saying reasonable things.
Danielle: Bllarrrgggghghghg!!! Ashley! Facebook!
Dina: What Ashley does has nothing to do with me.
Danielle: Your sister-in-law said mean things about you!
Dina: You’re crazy.
Danielle: Don’t you ever call me crazy! Ever! Ever!

“Jacked Rick Springfield” (thanks for that one, Dina!) and his goon come in and look sort of confused about Danielle’s retelling because, I mean, even ex-cons who agree to appear on Bravo reality television shows as gross caricatures of Joey Buttafuco know when someone is straight spewing nonsense.

Dina meets up with the Manzo girls and tells them how cray-cray Danielle was. Caroline says I told you so, and although I’ve sort of veered away from my eternal love for Caroline this season what with all of the hardlined defense of family business — even in the cases of them being wrong — I have to admit that she is a spot-on judge of character. We also see Jacqueline acting like a teenage gossip in this scene, and I’m beginning to be annoyed with how much pleasure she takes in talking shit. You have three children — stop it.

The Manzo men (and Ashley’s boyfriend and that dude Danielle boinked last season) have a poker night and buy $600 worth of meat for it. As the men crowd around the table and pound their giant wooden gavel (really?!) the women filter in every so often to present them with plates of prociutto and meatballs and it’s a little annoying how they’re just basically servants. Jacqueline is bothered that Danielle’s ex is there — mostly because there’s talk that he leaked their sex tapes and she’s not okay with being associated with that. So they call him into the toy room (the New Jersey equivalent of a waterboarding chamber) and ask him point blank about the sex tapes. He tells them that “most of” the tapes were sent to him from her, that they didn’t even include him, that she was doing all sorts of “crazy stuff” in them and I feel a little bad for the 50-something formal model who now looks like the anti-plastic surgery poster child, that she felt desperate enough to send nasty material to a man who is half her age (not that I buy that for a second) but who is balding and ugly and talks badly about her to his friends. Teresa’s eyes light up at the knowledge of Danielle’s desperation, because her life is so much better than hers, her choices so much more clear. Come on lady, you’re $11 million in debt. Your life is a mess and your forehead is a one-head.

Word out of Danielle’s camp is totally different. She gets together with her own gaggle of gals (take that Manzos! I can have a team too!) but it all stinks, and I mean stinks of that all-too-familiar smell of desperation. First of all, these ladies are old. And, I get that they’re probably the same age as Danielle herself but at least she’s trying to fit the Housewives of New York standard. At least she goes to the gym and gets her eyes lifted and wears trendy clothes. These ladies look like they actually belong in the suburbs. Even Kim G. looks like someone’s Grandma and the worst offender is an overweight woman with poorly highlighted bangs and a love of tapered khakis. I mean, TAPERED KHAKIS. If I wanted to watch the real housewives of real life I’d just go to Walmart.

So, Danielle and her dumpy soccer moms are at Olive Garden and Danielle opens up with, “ I met with Dina Manzo!,” as if she needed to say her last name, as if these people would actually hang out outside of this mess of a show. And the ladies are all chomping at the bit, overacting to what she says with the faces and words that were on todays sides but it all looks like the kids fake talking in the party scene of a high school play and I, for one, am suddenly recognizing just how much this town must hate this show that these are the only people fame-hungry enough to play Danielle’s posse. She pulls out her phone and shows them an email entitled “Closure” that Dina has sent her and flicks down the screen, scrolling to represent how loooooong the email is but it’s on a phone with a 2x3 screen and I mean, it makes sense that it would take a couple clicks to get down to the bottom. It also makes sense to me that Dina would want to enunciate everything that she wanted to tell Danielle in a medium that doesn’t include perturbed diners and a screaming ghoul in your face. Danielle doesn’t agree and responds with the cleverly worded, “Lol. Whatever.” That Danielle, she’s so good with her words.



Later the ladies stand around in Kim’s house like they’ve just been invited to their first cool-kid party and Danielle’s all “Oh, I have a sex-tape. Woe is me,” and the ladies try to look like that’s not actually like a shocking thing in suburban NJ, and Tapered Khakis is all like, well, I think you need to date again because you’re figure is so amazing (only old people say that people have nice “figures”) and they need to see her get naked for her date. They all head off the lingerie store and hoot and holler and Danielle’s chicken legs come out of the dressing room in various get-ups and I think that this will be the worst of it until the whole gang goes to a strip club to get lessons, but mostly to watch Danielle practice her old moves. Tapered Pants is there and she looks crazy awkward and Kim G. is really, really un-sexy and arrhythmic, but it’s Danielle’s time on the pole that actually makes me almost lose my soup and salad. For some reason Jacked Rick Springfield is there looking nasty as all hell and it’s at this moment that I realize that he’s more than just her muscle and I re-taste the minestrone all over again.

Kim G., the two-faced little old lady that she is, visits Jacqueline and tells her all about the Danielle shit-talking and Jacqueline discounts it all but all I can think of is that this Kim G. is the worst kind of sneak and I can’t wait until Caroline gives her her comeuppance. It really sucks because Dina has decided to leave the show and Kim G. is her replacement. FML. I will miss you Dina, you too Mr. Wrinkles. Enjoy your crystals and candles and keep looking fierce!

Is anyone else watching Persons Unknown? It’s this summer’s Harpers Island — you know, a serialized mystery whose payoff happens at the end of amazing weather instead of having to wait six years to find out that the last season was, in fact, just some sort of dogmic purgatory. So, knowing what the hell happened at the end of a few seasons? Check. Thorough writing staff and film-like production quality? Not quite. But for what it is, Persons Unknown is good enough popcorn TV. The premise of this one finds a group of people waking up locked in what appears to be hotel rooms, not knowing how they got there or where they are. Some remember getting into a cab, some simply went to bed like normal, some are mysterious brooding bearded men whose background “you don’t want to know about” and whose intentions are as gray as half my closet. So, it’s not boundary-breaking character study but it is sort of creepy in the kind of way that after they break out they find an abandoned small town and there’s a whole crew of Chinese people cooking them dinner. There’s also a creepy “night manager” at the hotel who looks a lot like Mr. Bean and a microwave fence around the perimeter or some shit, but more on that later.

Here’s a handy guide to the kidnapping victims:



1. Janet Cooper: She’s the main character of the show — the one whose kidnapping we get to witness and who will, assumedly, serve as the moral compass for the mystery. In "Pilot" we watch as it appears that her daughter is about to be kidnapped but then she is in fact taken away. There’s a shady past with her shady, mysterious ex (who she can’t even seem to locate with the help of a PI) and she has one creepy, Type-A mother who is currently taking care of her daughter, Megan. Given a fortune cookie whose text told her to kill Joe in order to gain freedom, she refused to play the puppetmaster’s sick game. Instead, she screamed at the camera in his room and made empty threats that she had no kind of leverage to make. I will, no doubt, find her super annoying but I’m sure her mysterious family connections come into play.

2. Sergeant Graham McNair: Look! An even-tempered black, Muslim soldier! This certainly makes up for the caricatures of Chinese people who work in the restaurant. Although his character has all the dimensions of a piece of paper, I like him because he’s pragmatic and has skills applicable to this situation. Although, his argument against torturing the Night Manager (“it never works”) is a little silly to me. That dude has to know something.

3. Joe Tucker: The MacGuyver of the show is probably an ex-mercenary or cop gone bad or just conman in general. He becomes the impromptu leader of the group, mostly because everyone else is a blistering idiot. You just know that he and Janet are going to hook up and I think that he knows more about this place than he lets on — or he did some job for whoever is running it.

4. Moira Doherty: Shit, this chick is Irish. At first Moira, wandering around is a bathrobe and looking intermittedly twitchy and insane, tells the group that she’s a psychiatrist. She explains that the implants in their legs are time and location released tranquilizers and later cuts those fuckers out of everyone’s legs. She also, apparently, knows a lot about butterflies, as we find out after Tori finds one in her room. She gets all creepy during her “bonding” time with Tori and I’m a little afraid of a predatory lesbian portrayal, but mostly I’m just concerned with the fact that she admits that she isn’t actually a psychiatrist — she’s actually a mental patient. And she cut those things out of their legs!!! I think she probably knows something more about this place, too — whether the crazy allows her to remember or not.

5. Tori Fairchild: This chick shows up hungover and snobby in a dress that’s too short for her own good. She’s the daughter of an American Ambassador to Italy/former C.I.A. head, and according to flashbacks knows a little more than she should about him. Her knowledge will probably keep her around longer than the typical blonde bimbo.

6. Bill Blackham: Here’s the asshole — there’s always one in these sorts of situations. His used-car salesman character reminded me of the dick in the remake of Dawn of the Dead, which led me to the realization that that dick was none other than Phil Dunphy of Modern Family fame — that show just got a whole lot more creepy. I get that the writers had to have a foil, and I’m sure that there will be some secret agreement between him and whoever’s running the joint that gets one of my favorite character killed, but for now I just want him to shut his fat mouth.

7. Charlie Morse: It’s Cameron! All grown up! Or, as my friend Meagan put it, “that guy who’s on all those TV shows!” He’s playing a CEO of some blah, blah, blah but all that really matters is that he’s very concerned about his “sick” wife. I suspect she’s crazy and was in the same loony bin as Moira.

And there are your main characters. Meanwhile, back in the real world there’s a subplot of a journalist hunting down the story (dead ends abound, especially when someone is sent to shut him up), Janet’s mom—who claims to have never even met her ex-husband (lie) and a bunch of untied ends in town.

My issues so far:

1. Why have they not searched all of the buildings in town? Why haven’t they covered up the cameras? Why are they still communicating out loud? Smoke that sucker out of his hole!
2. When they finally escape the perimeter, but end up looping back into town, I can buy that there’s some sort of optical illusion that points the road right back to where they began but why does everyone react like it’s an “Aw, shucks” moment? Where are their “What the hell is going on here?” faces? And why does no one ask the night manager where the hell he went when he ran off?
3. Speaking of, how about interrogating the Chinese Restaurant staff instead of just mowwing down on the food that is probably slowing placating/poisoning them.

The most important part of this Bachelorette recap is that while some of my best male friends came to visit me in NYC, I got them hooked on this shitshow, and now when I post things like “I’m here for Ali” as my facebook status they actually respond to it with weather-related comments. That said, in last night’s episode we had to bid adieu to the source of all of these chidings. May he forever live on in the annals of my facebook wall.

We find Ali and the gang in my home city this week! New York, with its skyscrapers and Broadway lights and teeming masses (did you like my Statue of Liberty allusion?) is, as everyone knows, the city of love. Well, it’s at least the city of second dates. Less superficial than The Valley where the show began but still fraught with dirty, sexual tension — wondering what will happen when. And like New York (and The Bachelorette), if you just add a few drinks, some shit is probably going to go down — in a sleek cocktail dress no less! So, the guys have a challenge where they have to sing “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” for Ali in order to try to win a spot next to her in a performance of The Lion King on Broadway! Hooray! Finally someone’s going to let some white people into that show. I’ve been crying foul about the lack of representations for Dutch Afrikkaners in the animal kingdom for years, I mean, shouldn’t they at least be playing the hyenas? (did you like my 19th century imperialism reference?) After the contestants shit all over the dreams of thousands of aspiring stage actors, dancers and singers, spicy Roberto sings his way into Ali’s heart by doing the impossible. “He looked at her and sang to her. How did I not think of that?!” The couple put on ridiculous cat costumes (Ali’s makes her ass look about 3 feet wide, poor girl) and do some awkward wire work while the other guys are FORCED TO WATCH. This show is probably sentencing us all to the bleak, cold abyss of hell.

Seems that all of that showbizniz has exhausted our fair maiden because she comes down with something bad. She powers on through the cocktail hour though, and we get to watch as Weatherman meekly approaches for a one-on-one. “If I’m not interrupting then I’d…” he trails off into broken silence. “Yeah, actually you are,” the guy who she’s speaking to affirms in his best Lumbar impression. Ali just kind of condescendingly nods and I continue to appreciate the fact that this chick just does not give a shit about what the producers think. In the end, someone excuses poor Ali from the mess and walks her sick ass back to the room.

The next day she’s supposed to have a date with dude whose mom died but she cancels, instead asking him to come spend the day with her in her hotel room. Way to go Ali. That’s just about the quickest way to spread whatever plague you have to every last one of these poor suckers. They laze about and discuss this guy’s dead mom and the thought of his sorrow has suddenly energized Ali to the point of wanting to go on the date after all! So they meet up at an empty club (which is kind of creepy) and talk about this guy’s dead mom some more (seriously) and then Joshua Radin is there singing on the rooftop. He’s Ali’s “favorite”, cementing the fact that Ali has the same taste in music as a 37-year-old high school counselor in Boise. She gives this dude a rose because hey, nothing butters her muffin like a little dead mom talk.

Meanwhile back at the house, Kermit the Frog has apparently already gone on a date with Ali (I missed that part, dudes, I was eating a really amazing omelet) and has neither gotten a rose, nor been sent packing. The upside is that the pain and confusion is doing awesome things to this guy’s voice and it’s also causing him to make really, really good decisions. Like, really good ones. So, he goes traipsing through some terrible part of Brooklyn, looking for anyplace with needles and a release form. The trash is just swirling around him and there are awkwardly placed dumpsters and bikers everywhere and I’m worried for Kermit. Except then I see a street sign and he’s totally just a few blocks from me in Hell’s Kitchen and I’m not so worried anymore. But then it happens. See, I thought he was just going to get her a singing telegram or show up with a creepy collage book of their future children but this dude is walking into a tattoo parlor. And where should a clean-cut reality contestant with a permanent bubble in his throat get said “dedication to Ali” tattoo? Why, on his wrist, of course. So, he gets the gayest tat possible, a giant heart with a lock in front of it, and makes a wincing face that leads me to believe that he has a really small penis.

Remember grunge, guys? Remember when flannel was cool and you would wear it unbuttoned over a white baby tee? I sure do. I’m sure this chick in my fifth grade class does. See, when I was wearing knock-off Z. Caverricis and said top combo, she came to school in her dad’s oily lumberjack flannel and an oversized Looney Toons tee and it just wasn’t the same thing. She was just like Kermie, trying to do the cool thing and failing horrible. At least the guys weren’t as mean as my elementary classmates were. Maybe they should have been, though. After showing everyone his awesome tattoo (he only copped to it after Rated X weaseled the info out of him-- that clever Rated X, always so much smarter and wittier than the rest of the guys) they all just sort of look around the room in shock and incredulity. And then Froggie thinks that everyone was super impressed, that he really will get to “protect” Ali forever, that he finally does get to sit at the cool kid table. He’s so inspired that he even shows Ali the tat! No, I lied. He seems to have been stricken with a case of the Weatherman and never does get around to saying anything about it before my boyfriend Frank barges in saying, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything” in the kind of way that makes you think that he really does hope that he’s interrupting something.

So, as a result, the producers have to keep him around for another week (this time in Iceland! Maybe Christopher Cross will make an appearance!) and that one hot guy has to go home. Also, Weatherman who suddenly looks a lot shorter than he even did before. I think it’s all of the tall buildings. Farewell hot guy and Weatherman. I will fondly remember, um, I’m probably going to forget about you next week.

How have I not mentioned The Real Housewives of New York reunion?! Producers decided to split the annual debacle into three separate parts, move no doubt brought on my the dramatic fury of these media-hungry wildebeests getting back together. The funny part about the decision though, is that there is actually enough fodder for three one-hour bitchfests. Ramona's having hot flashes and Bethenny looks like a mistress from Falcon Crest and Kelly fucking Bensimon is there, spouting nonsense about "systematic bullying." I could watch this shit all day long.

Below find my comments on each of the ladies thus far (in order of couch appearance):

Sonja: Fresh off of her Hamptons DUI arrest, the real star of this season swept into the tacky hot pink set in much the same way as she did during this season: all sex and bedroom eyes and Dorothy Parker sense of humor. My new best friend manages to insinuate that she is a high-class call girl ("my customers have to wait until after I put my daughter to bed") and tell any of the women that they have free reign to make jokes about her so long as they legitimately give her a chance as a human being. She also looked stunning in her crisp, white column mini-dress, saying that she didn't want to "disappoint" anyone. I'm pretty sure that she was talking about me and, no, I was not disappointed.

Alex: Here's the thing, Brooklyn: I know that you've grown a spine this season and all, telling Jill and the mean girls and whoever else will listen that you're no longer taking any of their crap. And that's all good and fine but not being a doormat doesn't mean that you have to actually "channel the devil"--as Jill so eloquently put it. You can't just barge into cocktail parties and initiate vendettas. You can't keep harping on Jill for things that happened a year ago and for which she has apologized. And you can't dye your hair that shade of blonde. It does not go well with your fair skin tone. Stop it, Alex--you in danga, girl.

Ramona: The eyeballs take the cake with this one (don't they always?) and while it's funny to watch the woman have hot flashes and blink asymmetrically and tell us that "injectibles" are not in fact the same thing as plastic surgery as if we bought her Boston Creme pie for her birthday when she clearly asked for pecan, she's going down the same path as Alex. Now that they're the underdog and the audience is on their side, they've gotten defiant and just plain mean in their triumph. Watch out, or you'll go the way of Jill. P.S., you look radiant in that Zac Posen dress but come on now with the HVC Ramona Singer jewelry. It's as tacky as the day is long.

Bethenny: Eight days after giving birth to baby Brynn, my girl is looking fierce and fabulous. This reunion finds our square-faced friend answering queries about the meltdown between herself and Jill Zarin and being accused of being a media whore. To this Bethenny answers, why yes, I am a media whore! Is anyone on this show not? Catch Bethenny Getting Married? Thurdays at 9! SkinnyGirl Margaritas! Jason Poppy! I will take issue with one thing: saying that "this is just the way I am, I shoot from the hip" does not excuse dickish behavior. Sometimes you just have to say, I'm a dick. Deal with it, or don't.

Jill: Poor, sad Jill Zarin. In this installment she is brought before the panel of housewives and I honestly do feel that this is a bit like Nuremberg. I mean, the lady is apologizing for every atrocity she's ever committed, but it's not like she killed anybody. Gasp! She asked people not to film with Bethenny! Gasp! She said Ramona looked crazy! I'm still not sure if Jill is genuinely apologetic or if she sensed the backlash and wanted to make things better before they got worse, but the fact is that she's saying sorry now. Ulterior motives or no, you have to be an adult and accept that. Jill: I need your shoes in my life. Now.

Kelly: At the end of this section of the reunion, we finally get to hear Kelly's side of the breakdown (er, "breakthrough) and it sounds a lot like those horns they're playing at the World Cup--annoying enough to effect how much can be enjoyed but not annoying enough for me to write a letter to my senator. But I'm just watching on T.V. and apparently even those horns are annoying enough in person to warrant a call for their removal. I feel like this is the same with Kelly, who uses her platform to vomit some nonsense about "public service" and how she's being "systematically bullied" by the girls both now (during filming) and on the Haunted Isle of Klonopan. It seems that Kelly's definition of "bullying" is everyone else's definition of exchanging words (sometimes positive things are said, sometimes negative things are said, sometime people interrupt your sentence to clarify something because you've probably started randomly talking about "satchels of gold" or "jellybeans" or "Al Sharpton"). The people who she's accused of being abusive toward her intermittedly attempt to speak up and this finally sends Kelly off stage and hopefully off of our screens. Dear Lord, I know I haven't exactly fulfilled all of the things that I promised last time I asked for something, but could you please make sure that this crazy lady gets cast on celebrity rehab? Amen.
The Countess LuAnn "Money Can't Buy You Love" Delaseps: LuAnn mostly does what she's been does the entire season: trying to rise above all of it but ending up looking like a flip-flopping party pooper. Her voice is even raspier than usual, probably because of all of those live "singing" performances she's been giving, and she manages to tell Sonja how declasse is was to call her gentleman callers "customers" and chide Kelly for instigating the drama on the boat. We get it lady, you have really awesome posture. I just want Kelly to say something about etiquette or proper attire to someone once, only to have a flute full of champagne thrown in her face, finally eliciting the LuAnn breakdown that we've all been waiting for. Five points to Gryffindor for that ring though, I need it even more than I need Jill's shoes.

Last week’s episode of Friday Night Lights was perhaps the series’ best at examining a common theme since its inception: the gravitational pull of a small town. Anyone who has ever grown up in one knows that there are lifers — those who will be born in and die in the same four block radius. There are itchers — those who can’t wait to leave the indemnity of NoWheresVille, U.S.A. and make a name for themselves someplace else. And there are the Tug and Pulls — those who recognize the sad truth of the small town situation: things are easy in a small town, sameness makes one content. But contentedness is not happiness. It’s not the same as sadness either, which is a plus, but it’s certainly not enough for most people. So SomePlaceElse, U.S.A. seems appealing because it offers happiness and sadness and frustration and excitement — anything but the gray in-between on contentedness. But it also offers dangers that may be so large that they prevent anyone from venturing out into the big, bad world. And that’s the beauty of a small town. That the natural inclinations of individuals can be seen as clearly as the unclouded stars in the sky. That a Tim Riggins will always be happy in Dillion, no matter how much you push him to leave the nest. That a Tyra will fight and push her way out of the same dish at any and all costs because staying would mean suffocation. And that there are so many others whose destination could go either way, depending upon circumstance. Depending upon timing. Depending upon the lives and decisions of every other bug scuttling around in the Dillon petrie dish.

In “Stay”, a coaxing, soft lull compared to last week’s emotional tour de force by Zach Gilford, we see the impact of the decisions of Dillioners in all three categories. After exchanging a knowing glance last week at Matt’s father’s funeral, Lyla and Riggins find themselves once again drawn to one another. It’s a realistic portrayal of what happens is places big and small all over the country. Lyla is on midterm break from college and has come back to visit her daddy. She’s also come back with a mouth full of rage for Tim Riggins. Because he dropped out college so quickly, the college she worked so hard to get him into. Because he stopped calling or picking up her calls, even after all that they had been through. But mostly because Tim Riggins is a lifer, and no matter how many personal saviors come into his life (and Lyla Garrity really did give it a good shot), he’s never going to be anything different. So, the two do what any couple full on love but short on practicality would do: they use their three days together being together. They forget about the future and the obstacles. They say goodbye in a sweet, drawn-out lullaby kind of way. Tim half-heartedly pitches Lyla coming back from college to manage a booming Riggins Rigs, but both of them know that it could never work and in the end Tim watches as Lyla rides away from Dillon for the (metaphorical) last time. Kudos to Minka Kelly for delivering the subtle speech to (assumedly) fellow-itcher Becky about how leaving home doesn’t automatically fill in the holes you might have in your heart. Just because you don't need Dillon, doesn't mean Dillon doesn't need you. And that's a hard hurt to handle.

Elsewhere in Dillon people are playing football! Sometimes I seriously forget that this is what the show is about. East Dillon has to play a team who hasn’t allowed a touchdown is something like 11,000 games and on top of everything, the game is going to be televised! Vince continues to be chided by his asshole, thieving friend and his crackhead mother wants to come to the game. There’s a sweetly sad moment where she promises that she’ll clean up her appearance if she comes and I tear up at the thought of this kid having to juggle the gateway life that Coach is presenting him, and the shitty one he's been dealt. In order to get Vince, Luke and the other East Dillon boys ready for the game (of which that dopey assistant coach has guaranteed a win) Coach brings in the big defensive guns: the Riggins boys.

It’s fun to see Tim and Billy beat the piss out of these kids and it even results in Vince and Luke finally finding a way to working together — on and off the field. When the big game comes, the pairing (and Vince especially, now the official East Dillon QB are connecting), bring the opposing team’s zero-touchdown record to its knees. East Dillon doesn’t win — thank god — but they do go out against a formidable opponent with honor.

After losing his father in last week’s episode (and delivering a performance that had better damn well get him an Emmy nomination, if not win) we see Matt attempting to go back to normal. He tries to throw a football around with Landry but there’s an emotional gulf between the two old friends. He goes to a music festival with Julie — one that she was expressly forbidden to go to by her parents — but the gravity of the situation, and its presence as a game-changer is growing ever more apparent for the couple who we’ve rooted for from the beginning. After Matt finds out that Julie has run away without the Taylors’ permission, he explodes on Julie, eliciting the real reason why this trip was so important to the impish blonde. She wants Matt to feel like he’s gotten to leave Dillon, even if for a short while. Since his mother is now caring for his grandmother and the Army’s “death gratuity” effectually has the Saracens set for life, there’s nothing holding Matt to Dillon — except for Julie. It’s one of those moments when the truth becomes real when it’s vocalized, and now that neither can hide behind the veil of pretending it’s the beginning of the end for the star-crossed couple. The goodnight in the Taylors’ driveway, so similar to so many others, is in fact a goodbye — and both parties know it. I believe that Matt and Julie belong together, that perhaps in ten years after college and long-term loves and growing apart that they’ll find each other once again and become Eric and Tami 2.0. But for now, as in every episode of Friday Night Lights, the scene plays as it would in real life and Saracen pulls out of the driveway, past his Grandmother’s house and down a long stretch of Texas highway toward something so much more. Gilford, in one of his last scenes this season (and probably on the show) delivers his performance with the quiet stoicism that has come to mark his character, and when a smile creeps across his face you can’t help but be happy for him.

And that’s impressive, because when Julie walks back into the Taylor home — with a ferociously wound-up Tami Taylor waiting to pounce on her disobedient child — she melts into a pool of all-too-adult desperation. It’s the best acting that I’ve ever seen Aimee Teegarden do, and it rips to the core the heart of anyone who’s ever experienced this particular kind of loss. When you break up with someone because they cheat on you or because they’re just a dick, or even when it’s just too much that they like Slayer and you’re into Sia, it hurts but there’s a finality that comes with doing the right thing because it’s needs to happen. When a break-up happens because of circumstance, when you know that given a different time or place or set of people surrounding you that it would have worked, there’s nothing and no one to blame and all of that pain and anger scuttling around in a heart with no place to go is the worst kind of anguish. Tami does what Tami does best and stands by with someone who she loves when they need her most, even when that means letting her daughter make the rough transition into becoming an adult.

The Hills did something this week that hasn’t happened in a long time. There was real drama, the kind you could tell wasn’t rehearsed by the folks of the show and the kind that gave us juicy insight in the real lives of Kristin and Co. Don’t worry though, lest we think that The Hills has suddenly changed forms from totally scripted show to realistic reality television, there was plenty of normal relationship flip-flopping, put upon introduction of new characters and the return of Justin Bobby — who brought us one of the best transcripts ever. Like, ever.



Our fearless leader Kristin and Stacey the Bartender (why is this girl best friends with Kristin now? How did she evolve from some trollop Spencer was trying to bang?) are at the hair salon getting their hair fluffed. I say fluffed because the faceless torsos who are working on them seem to just sort of run their hands through their hair and fluff it into different places. It’s very important that they get their hair fluffed because Stephanie Pratt (unlikely voice of reason) is having a birthday party and since everyone totally loves her, they’re all going.


Meanwhile, Stephanie and Ceiling Eyes are shopping at a candy store for god knows what and discussing the party. I lied, talking about Stephanie on Stephanie’s birthday would be too much of a normal and gracious thing to do, so they chat about Ryan Cabrera being out on tour and the sparks that flew when Justin Bobby took off his shirt for the 10-minute long drum solo at his band’s show last week. You know the one, Audrina tilted her chin down into her chest so that her eyes would be pointed at JB instead of the ceiling and then she fainted from over-arousal or malnutrition or sheer vapidity. It’s clear that the producers have told Audrina that Justin Bobby’s unwashed claws are still in her.



Then we head over to Smashbox studios where Audrina (used to?) work as a receptionist and now Lo fills some kind of position after attending a real life four-year university. She’s also gotten her old sorority sister/new cast member McKaela hired (presumably both at Smashbox and on The Hills) so she starts telling her to compile giftbags because Smashbox is both a shoot studio and a cosmetics line, making the Carwash/Strip Club concept from The Real Housewives of New Jersey seem not too far off-base. And then they get to talking about Brody. See, McKaela has gone out on a date with Brody once and he told her that he’d be nice to her and keep her safe and fed her lots of alcohol all the while reminding her that Kristin is someone that she’d “just have to deal with”, and now she thinks that they’re dating too — and apparently so goes MTV, as my boyfriend reminds me, because the white text in the corner is calling her “Brody’s Girlfriend”. And even after all of that she’s still pining after him, wondering why he doesn’t call, pleading to Lo to make her feel better about being dumped by the best looking asshole in Hollywood. But Lo offers her no such advice. She knows Brody’s ways and she’s all older-sister-warning-younger-sister-about-the-high-school’s-biggest-player, except that then she invites her to Stephanie’s birthday party where Brody will be and it’s one in a line of many fortuitous invitations on The Hills.


And as expected, the party is full of high-caliber drama and OMG entrances. And as I’ve promised it’s even full of actual surprises. Kristin is slobbering all over Brody like a hungry dog (when will this girl stop denigrating herself?), Frankie has been offered to Stephanie as a birthday gift and he is belligerently drunk, and they’re all drinking around the recovering alcoholic for her birthday, so it’s all pretty amazing. Then, in comes McKaela. We think that the drama will be that Kristin is lap humping Brody but it turns out these people have lives beyond the show! And they’re rearing their heads! McKaela has brought a friend and everyone starts saying the name “Allie Lutz”, as if it’s Voldemort and we should all know who this heathen is! It’s so deliciously awkward and real that I find myself actually entertained for the first time in weeks (the departure of Speidi really happened at the peak of their crazy and I was just starting to enjoy all of the botox-infused reactions to the insanity).


The scene is a whirlwind of coked-up emotions. Lo meekly whispers, “You guys, I invited her. She’s really nice.” Kristin and Brody continue to utter “Allie Lutz” as if they’re saying Hitler. Audrina gets all judgy on McKaela because she would hang out with the girl who Kristin described as “the stupidest girl in the world, “ and Allie Lutz is the picture of teasable caricature. Her hair is too blonde and her makeup too harsh and there is something wrong with her mouth, like, clinically wrong. I think maybe she got a bad collagen injection and now her bottom lip is dead. She looks like a good ol’ boy I met from back home who numbed his lip out with chew and ended up looking like Bubba Gump. I LOVED it. She’s Laguna Beach unkempt. She’s Lauren before lo-lights. She’s Kristin before South Beach Diet. She’s Audrina’s still-shoddy boob job. She’s the best hot mess that ever happened. She’s ALLIE LUTZ! And, apparently, she’s a break-in artist. I guess she left her ring in Brody’s house once and then snuck back in (after the party was over?) and crawled around on his floor shrieking like Gollom saying, “Brody, where is my precious?!” At least that’s how it was told by Brody and Kristin — she was “in the bed, bitch! — and now all of the sudden, drunkenly going back to a party (where, let’s face it, the door was probably open) to get something that you left there is totally the same as genocide and she’s “CRAZY!” Oh, dramz. I love you.
So, McKaela asks Brody what’s up and he yells at her for bringing Allie and Kristin whisks him away to go have lots of coked up sex because she will be “in the bed, bitch!”


The next day at Smashbbox, McKaela has a totally cute outfit on and tries to call Brody to apologize and, of course, he doesn’t pick up. Can you guess why? It’s because Kristin is in his bedroom, scuttling around on the floor, looking for her shoes because she was so wantonly undressing last night that she doesn’t even know where they went. Why is she so unflinchingly whorish? Why would she let someone tape that? Do her parents wonder what went wrong? After Kristin finds her shoes she skips out the door to meet Audrina for lunch to, presumably, talk about those months that she banged Justin Bobby and it broke Audrina’s heart, causing Audrina to call Kristin evil. Just kidding, they’re totally b-fries now so they just met up to talk about crazy Allie Lutz and bi-proxy McKaela. And actually, I was right the first time. They did talk about Justin Bobby and how much chemistry they have. Audrina obviously takes these words to heart. After all, Kristin’s really good at relationships and always chooses the man who will treat her best.


So, it’s with a heavy heart and a head full of marbles, air, and the painful beginning of ideas that she meets pop star and main squeeze Ryan Cabrera who is back from playing gigs at medium-sized bars all over the country. She surprises him and they have an awkward hug — no kiss — and I start to have something swirling around inside of me. It feels a little like two-minutes after a tequila shot when everyone’s asking if you want another drink and you’re just too busy to answer because you’re concentrating really hard on the salt shaker instead of the spinning room. Basically, I’m starting to feel sorry for Ryan Cabrera, and it only gets worse. Audrina starts spouting off worries about their relationship (you have so many groupies, I feel like I’m tying you down, etc.) and it’s so obviously “it’s not you, it’s me” bullshit that I’m cringing. But dangerously coifed dolt Ryan Cabrera doesn’t get the clue and reassures her as Audrina looks like a weak and deflated cupie doll. Poor Ryan Cabrera.



Things only get worse for her when she goes to Justin Bobby’s garage where he’s putting the finishing touches of the bike he’s been building for 15 years. We are gifted with this dialogue:

"Did you tell Spikey you saw me that night?"-cause that’s his nickname for Ryan Cabrera

"We're arguing too much," replies Audrina, to which JB sagely counters:

"That could be never good ... it needs to not be about that at all.”

“Actions speak louder than words," Audrina adds out of nowhere.

"How is his actions?” HE REALLY DID SAY IS.

"There are certain people you see that are meant, and there are certain people that you see, you can just tell. Not saying whatever, take that for what it is. You can tell, you can tell when two people are really happy."

Amen, Justin Bobby. Couldn’t have said it better myself.



The episode ends in a confluence of scripted meetings, including: McKaela talking to Allie Lutz about what happened at the birthday party. Allie admitting that she should have told her that she is actually Gollum and chomping her bottom lip away. Kristin, Lo and Stephanie hanging out and talking about how cray-cray Allie Lutz is and that, logically McKaela must be. Then Kristin agrees to meet with McKaela, who is just the kind of girl who can’t have anyone hate her. So, they meet over drinks and Kristin shoots it to her straight and says that Brody was so nice because he wanted to sleep with her, and I vomit a little in my mouth because Kristin has somehow tricked herself into believing that despite the fact that Brody tricks innocent girls into sleeping with him while he’s sleeping with her, he somehow is meant to be with her. She tells McKaela that L.A. with destroy “nice girls” like her (which is confusing since I’m fairly certain that she attended UCLA with Lo) and then chugs her wine and huffs off. I’m assuming that she’s trekking off to Mordor to destroy the one ring and Allie Lutz forever.

Glee’s season culmination found New Directions competing at Regionals and the writing staff rounding out many of the storylines. We see a flashback to the wine-cooler laced night when Puck got Quinn pregnant, and then suddenly we’re in the Shue kitchen with an 8-month-pregnant Quinn (this chick looks about 6 months along — maybe) as she forlornly thinks about the past. Mr. Shue is having a pizza party to brainstorm which songs to sing at Regionals, which makes me wonder why they haven’t figured this out until the last minute. Shouldn’t they have formulated a set list and be practicing it? There isn’t much brainstorming — or pizza eating — going on because everyone is back in the funk that “Funk” was supposed to have gotten them out of. “There’s no way we can win and then glee club will be over!” Mercedes postulates that Santana and Puck wouldn’t pay her any attention if she weren’t in glee club with them, to which Puck replies, “She’s got a point.” It’s pretty funny until you remember that just a few weeks ago Puck was trying to bang Mercedes to get some of her popular mojo — mojo gained from being a Cheerio, not from being in dorky glee club. Tina does a piss-poor acting job and I get mad all over again that she and Mercedes have story lines and character development over Santana and the hilarious Brittany.

Later in the hallway, Finn confronts Rachel about falling into negativity with the rest of the group and then spews off his usual, “You’re annoying and bossy and other negative things…” before kissing her. This proves that the only way to get a strong, independent, career driven woman out of a professional low is for a male to pay attention to her. So, plan hatched, the two head off to the choir room to drum up some support. But they don’t even need to! Mr. Shue has this handled. While driving down the road alone he can’t seem to shake the depressing feeling riding over him; that is, until Journey comes on the radio. I get it, because when I’m three tequila shots in and “Wheel in the Sky” comes on over the bar’s sound system, I too get pumped up. But this is more! This is a metaphor! As Shue explains to the class, it’s not about the beginning (five dorks composing a crappy singing groups, joined by people who hate them and don’t want to be there) or the end (working the entire year to win Regionals, only to be thwarted by the dastardly Sue Sylvester) it’s the journey that matters. Get it?! Journey! So, the group goes full-circle and decides to do a Journey medley for the competition, complete with all new harmonies and choreography. With one day to learn it all, there’s no way they can fail!

At Regionals, Aural Intensity perform a mash-up of Josh Grobin and Olivia Newton-John songs obviously having been tipped off to the celebrity judges (and Glee guest stars) returning to Ohio to take in the Glee Club Competition. Rounding out the panel are, of course, Sue Sylvester, and that TV newscaster dude who broke Sue’s heart. The kids seem scared but Mr. Shue lightens the mood with a dorky teacher quip about Finn’s dancing that endears me to the man despite his creepy, serial killer mannerisms. Then, it’s time for New Directions to go on. Backstage, Finn and Rachel share a moment where Finn tells her that he loves her. It’s supposed to be sweet, but all I can think of is the fact that he’s always saying mean things about her right before he delivers a compliment and that she was convinced a week ago that she was meant for Jess — and she probably is — I don’t know, I guess I just don’t buy it. Then comes the Journey medley. I love it. It’s a return to the musical reinterpretations (literally) that made me fall in love with the show, and even the choreography looks good! I’m lamenting that most of the solos go to Rachel, but it’s nice that they rearranged “Don’t Stop Believin’” to incorporate both Puck and Santana.



Everybody totally thinks they’re going to win, and the young actors play the moment well, appearing genuinely jubilant. As someone who won a few team competitions myself in high school, I can say that there are really very few moments as pure and joyful as these. In Glee world, people show up right when important things are happening. Quinn’s mom is there to see her sing! She’s left her dad! She wants to convert the guest room to a nursery! And then, like magic, Quinn’s water breaks and everyone rushes to the hospital en masse. Everyone except for Rachel, who sticks around to watch Vocal Adrenaline perform. My boyfriend thinks it’s a bitch move but I think it’s just in keeping with her character. Vocal Adrenaline (and Jesse) pull out the big guns with Queen’s "Bohemian Rhapsody", a song so operatic and inherently choral that I think every high school choir ever has sang it. But this one does it better than all of the others. There are holes in the floor that people pop out of, there’s a majestic white piano, there’s even Groff hair!



The real beauty of the number (and it is probably the best production so far this season) is that the editors of Glee have chosen to intersperse the song with Quinn’s childbirth. Initially hokey, the concept lends itself perfectly on each end. Pulsating choreography is mirrored is Quinn’s labored breathing, “Mama” is emphatically cried out in what turns out to be Diana Agron’s scene work to date, Jonathan Groff’s scowls become Quinn’s anger toward Puck for the situation she’s now in. And at the end, after the dénouement of birthing a baby and hitting a Freddy Mercury high note, the song ends in its lullaby way, with a “Nothing really matters…” and the soft keystrokes of the piano. Because, while this whole season has been about a high school glee club competition in rural Ohio, it’s all small potatoes compared to what Quinn just did.



The storyline attempts to do a character comparison by having Rachel congratulate Shelby on winning — or not — the narrative was really sort of strange here but the gist of it is that Rachel wants her mom to come help teach glee at McKinley with Mr. Shue and they can all be one big, happy family. Shelby feels like she can’t do the glee thing anymore because she wants to garden and have a dog and by extension have a baby because she missed her chance at motherhood with Rachel, which is pretty much bullshit. The kid, and she is a kid, just asked you to be a parental figure in her life and you just blew her off because she’s not a sparkling shiny little baby. F that.


Back at the hospital, Quinn’s looking at her baby and still wants to give it up. Puck loved her then and loves her more now, but in the grand tradition of boys on this show, will probably still treat her like crap. Shelby shows up to covetously look at her baby (how did she get there so fast? Isn’t this terribly unsupportive to her team?) and Puck somehow rushes back to the auditorium (with the rest of the glee clubers) to hear the results. Josh Grobin liked New Directions, Olivia Newton-John liked Aural Whatever and newscaster dude liked Vocal Adrenaline. Then they all pick on Sue because she’s not a real celebrity (but the newscaster guys is?!) and she feels guilty enough to vote for New Directions, because she’s the same as them or something. Nobody knows that, so when she announces that Vocal Adrenaline wins (and New Direction got third).


So, the glee club is over. Figgin’s “hands are tied” as usual, and Emma has a delightful little freakout. Will, as usual, tries to make it all about him and then tells her that he loves her, even if she is dating someone else. Please, boys! If you love these girls, treat them well! The kids want to say thanks to Mr. Shue for being so awesome and life-altering so they sing him “To Sir with Love” and it’s pretty cute and all; It moves Sue to tears too! She blackmails Figgins some more and gets the glee club one more year. Hooray! I just hope that next season there’s less Will rapping.