Get On Your Bike And RIDE!

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Luke and Lorelai share awkward conversation at the diner, but at least she’s drinking his coffee again. Lorelai worries about how awkward it is, but Sookie promises her that everybody who breaks up becomes friends again...look at Ryan and Farrah! (Don’t look at Alec and Kim.) In a very long scene, Paris has Rory open her grad school letters. It’s a go for Yale, Harvard and Penn. By the third one, Rory and Doyle are getting tired of celebrating, which Paris notices. She then freaks out: Law School or Med School. Since all the schools seem to want her (including Columbia and Stanford), her glee quickly goes to overwhelming angst as she curls into a fetal position and frets. Jackson is staying at Lorelai’s, which makes Sookie fret that Jackson will act a fool in the pretty, pretty house. Lorelai is surprisingly un-sad that her beloved Jeep bit the dust. Pooh-poohing an offer for an early bird carpool, she decides to bike it… even though it’s been about twelve years since her feet hit pedals. Probably they weren’t clad in Jimmy Choos back then, I’m guessing. Cut to Lorelai on a girlie bike, giant basket and all, talking on her cell phone. Who’s that laaa-dy? Modern lady! Rory mopes to Lorelai that Paris has her choice of six different grad schools and her friends have figured out that they’re moving to Manhattan, and she has a friend who’s going to join a think tank in Washington, but she’s heard nothing from The Times and she’s bummed. Rory encourages Lorelai to keep trying with Luke, and then chastises Lorelai for talking on the phone while driving her bike. Sookie, Michel and Lorelai debate which car Lorelai should get . Michel explains why buying vintage means you’re basically sitting in someone else’s pee while you drive. Lorelai knows this decision would be better made with Luke, if only she still had the Luke she used to have, so she decides to use this as one of those friendship-building conversations she’s needed. (Hey, did you hear the sound of the horse as Lorelai walked out of the inn?) Lorelai makes a call, and suddenly they’re kinda on an awkward date. Paris dumps Doyle so that he can’t possibly influence her decision, since statistics say he probably wouldn’t have been there for the rest of her life, anyway. Paris blinked and got into another three graduate schools. Oooooh, dear. Jackson broke Lorelai’s dollhouse. He dropped it, and then he fell on it trying to catch it. He really, really broke Lorelai’s dollhouse. Poor Lorelai lost her Jeep and her dollhouse in the same week! Jackson and Sookie have it out over the remnants of Lorelai’s childhood because Sookie still feels angry about Jackson getting her pregnant. Meanwhile, Luke’s showing Lorelai a little hatchback, if you know what I mean. Actually, it’s terribly awkward and Lorelai wants to bail. They get into a fight that brings up all of the issues they’ve ever had with each other, and Lorelai clearly enjoys it. Sookie and Jackson break the broken dollhouse to Lorelai. They’ve found someone online who will restore the dollhouse, but based off of Lorelai’s revulsion toward change, this probably won’t go very well. Paris misses Doyle, and is upset that her love for him is making her change the plan she’d always had for her own life. Rory tells Paris that she and Logan are including each other in their plans, but Paris shows her how that’s pretty much impossible if Rory values her own career just as much as she values her relationship with her boyfriend. Luke is Lorelai’s hero, just like old times, getting her exactly what she wants – her old Jeep restored in another old Jeep, souping-up her bike in the meantime. Paris decides to be a doctor instead of a lawyer. Doyle decides he’s neither moving out nor breaking up with Paris. He announces he’s going wherever she’s going. Rory goes through the mail as they make up and finds her letter from The Times. No internship for Rory. Yeah, that’s right. Guess Logan’s dad knew what he was talking about all those years ago. Hope MamaKim needs some help at the antique shop this summer, because someone needs a jobby-job. Want more? The full recap starts right below!

Hello, hello. Many thanks to Pamie for stepping in on recaplet duty when I became ensnared in what can only be described as a TiVo Hostage Crisis last week. I had to make an emergency call to her when I strolled in from a long work trip, just as GG was ending and I did not see the friendly recording light shining from the box. This is the one instance where having a friend in a time zone three hours behind mine was actually a good thing. Something is up with my TiVo -- the power supply, or something? For which the recommended Internet remedy is: 1) order a new power supply; 2) PRY OPEN your TIVO and perform complex engineering rituals which could result in BURNING DOWN your HOUSE. Needless to say, that won't be happening. Other measures have been taken. In any case, big ups to Pamie, Wing and Miss Alli, all of whom had to rally 'round in a team effort to save the day. ["Leave no man behind!" -- Miss Alli]

On the sidewalk in Stars Hollow, Lorelai steels herself before purposefully striding into Luke's Diner for the first time in months. Running straight into an irritating conversation with Kirk, she probably immediately regrets it. By way of greeting, he insists that she will not get her regular stool back at the counter, because he now knows that it is the best seat in the house based on its proximity to the register and access to Luke. When he goes into a spiel about its excellent position between two air vents, Lorelai tells Kirk he can have the seat. Luke tries to look nonchalant when he steps to the counter to offer her some coffee. She nervously orders it "to stay" and must endure the gauntlet of Miss Patty, Babette, and Kirk reviewing the many months that have passed since she's been in. Luke returns with the coffee and the fun continues -- they can't seem to shake the awkwardness of talking to each other (although they've had several conversations already, right, including last week's apology?) and after some preliminaries, they jump straight to weather chat. You know, detractors are always saying how there is no chemistry between these two -- I said it, myself, during the dark times of last season when no one had chemistry with anybody because the episodes were like an anti-chemical mixture of blech and blah-- but I found them very charming together in this episode. It's uncomfortable, though, and Lorelai quickly bails, taking her coffee to go after all. Outside the diner, she looks relived to have escaped.

Later, she's driving down the...exact same stretch of backlot where she and Rory recently ran out of gas and where Rory once cleaned up trash...when she gets a call from Sookie, who is wrangling a whining Davey in her home kitchen. "I hate that stupid Rosie Milano," Sookie says. "Ugh," Lorelai agrees, "is she that woman at Davey's school with the big fake boobs that all the dads think are real?" Sookie says no, the hated Rosie Milano is a kid at Davey's school who came to class with chicken pox. "Oh, NO, I hate her, too," Lorelai says, feeling her friend's pain. Sookie says that Davey and Martha both have mild cases, but she has to stay home and handle the oatmeal baths and whatnot, as well as dealing with Jackson, who has never had chicken pox, apparently. She can't bear the thought of him getting sick, as he is a gigantic baby, and she can't send him to the Dragonfly, because it's full, so she's looking for a hotel for him to crash in. "He can just stay at my place!" Lorelai says, but Sookie tries to give her an out. "You are my best friend in the entire world," she says. "I could not sic Jackson on you." Sniffing the remains of someone's sippie cup of milk and then adding some to her coffee (ew, but hilarious), Sookie explains that Jackson is too much of a slob to inflict on anyone. Lorelai, however, insists, and then she drops a casual bomb about going into Luke's that morning. "Why didn't you cut me off?" Sookie cries. "It's not like the kids have Bubonic plague! How did it go?" Lorelai says it was awful. "We hit the weather in the first minute," she says. "Maybe there's just too much history."

Sookie pffts, reminding her that couples have been breaking up and becoming friends for centuries. "I mean, look at Ryan O'Neal and Farrah Fawcett," she says. Lorelai rightly comments that it's sad that Ryan and Farrah are the most well-adjusted example she could think of. "I'm sorry, he's been in the news lately," she says, "that whole shooting a gun at his son thing..." Yeah. Y'all, have you read Tatum O'Neal's awesome autobiography? It is amazing. What? Why are you looking at me like that? She was in The Bad News Bears! Greatest movie of all time! Oh, shut up. Y'all don't know.

Anyway, all this O'Neal family saga is secondary to the drama that has just cropped up -- Lorelai's car starts lurching and sputtering. "Pull over! Pull over!" Sookie yells, as Lorelai struggles to the side of the road. "What was that?" Lorelai says she doesn't know. "You know, the... carburetor, or...I think I better call Gypsy."

Paris is nervously pacing her apartment when she hears Rory arrive home. "DOYLE," she yells, "SHE'S HERE!" She drags Rory's bag off her shoulder, admonishing her for being two hours late coming home after her class. Doyle, who is struck down when trying to chitchat with Rory about Logan's upcoming meeting in San Francisco, finally explains that Paris has received letters from many of the medical and law schools to which she applied. Paris is FREAKING OUT. She snatches up the envelopes, listing off all the schools. "Before you comment on envelope thickness," she tells Rory, "keep in mind that so much stuff is online these days; thickness is no longer an accurate indicator." That's what he said. Sorry. She continues to flip out, grabbing up her lucky letter opener. The pressure is too much for her, however, and she fans the letters out and asks Rory to open one for her. Rory draws Yale Law School. "Okay, wow," Paris says, jumpy, while Doyle does Lamaze breathing beside her. "I'd be lucky to get in there." She insists that Rory open it, using the letter opener, saying that obviously, Rory is lucky. "How else do you explain the fact that you got into Harvard four years ago and I didn't?" Rory smirks: "Oh, right. Luck."

After wigging for a moment about whether or not the letter opener's luck will cancel out Rory's luck, Paris finally allows the letter to be opened. "We are pleased to inform you," Rory reads, and the three of them go as crazy as a bunch of Red Sox fans. Paris calms down long enough to give a speech worthy of the Academy. "Thank you so much for your participation in Operation Finish Line, for your friendship, for everything," she says. "You've always been an inspiration to me, Rory Gilmore. I mean, the way you cut your ruthless path to the head of the Yale Daily News and never looked back? I never told you, but I really admired that." Rory grimaces at the memory as Paris turns to Doyle to apologize for being so crazy during her application process. "It doesn't matter," Doyle says. "I love you, baby, and I am so proud of you." Aw. Isn't Doyle the cutest? Paris is thrilled, she says, to have been accepted to the "second-best law school in the country." It doesn't even matter now, she says, if she gets into any of these other schools, because she has a great option right here. Rory and Doyle nod vigorously in agreement, but Paris finally breaks down. "Might as well open Harvard," she says, trying to be casual, and shoves the envelope at Rory. "We are pleased to inform you," Rory reads again, and the freaking begins anew. "BITE ME, HARVARD! BITE ME!" Paris screams in revenge. "YEAH!" Doyle chimes in. "CHOKE ON IT!" Paris says she's tempted to reject Harvard the way they rejected her those four dark years ago. This is why I love Paris so much: I, also, am all about misplaced, directionless revenge. The score must be level, even when it no longer matters. I strongly recommend not ever picking up that mindset, as it makes for many sleepless nights and lots of personal time allocated to grandiose plotting.

, Rory chooses the letter from U Penn. Once again, they are pleased to inform Paris of her acceptance. Celebration ensues once more, though Paris thinks she detects a noticeable drop-off in excitement, which she assumes is reflective of Penn's reputation as compared to Harvard and Yale. "I would say," Rory insists, "we're just as impressed, wouldn't you, Doyle?" But no, now Paris is spiraling. She says she should consider people's perceptions when deciding on a school -- despite Rory and Doyle not having any such perceptions -- and that the reaction one gets when one says "Harvard Medical School" counts for something. Rory and Doyle attempts to talk sense to her about her great options, but she's not having it. "This is a huge decision!" she says. "Law school or med school. I have two passions, and obviously I am vastly talented in both fields. What muse do I follow?" Pausing for a deep breath of crazy, she tells Rory to open the others. Columbia is please to inform her...Doyle attempts a whoop, but Paris goes immediately to full-on panic. "Paris, you're just being silly," Rory says. "It's good to have options." Paris snorts. "Yeah, right, you can say that because there's only one thing you want," she says. "Talk to me if you don't get the New York Times fellowship and you have to choose between six other papers." NICE. Even Paris realizes she's crossed the line. "You have a great shot at the Reston," she says, placatingly, and Doyle agrees. Rory is worried, but says she hopes so. She quickly changes the subject back to Paris, opening the envelope: "Hey, HEY, you got into Staaanfoooord!" This time, both she and Doyle resume the cheering full force, but Paris has gone over the edge. Curling into the fetal position on the couch to consider her decision, she declares that their hooting and hollering isn't helping matters.

Lorelai is on the phone with Gypsy about the crapped-out Jeep when Sookie arrives to drop off Jackson. "What do you mean you can't fix it, Gypsy?" Lorelai pleads. "It's only eight years old!" She goes into the kitchen to continue, telling Jackson to make himself at home. "Uh-uh," Sookie snarks when Lorelai is out of ear shot, "you are absolutely not to make yourself at home. Don't leave your clothes lying all over the house. Don't touch anything! And hang up your wet towels!" Here is where one might expect the modern-day recapper to admonish Sookie for being such a harridan to Jackson, ordering him around, harassing him for being himself, treating him like a bad child. "Sookie," he says, offended. "I have stayed at other people's houses before." Sookie: "Yeah, I know. Why do you think I'm saying all this? Just try not to annoy Lorelai." Jackson is even more offended. "Believe it or not," he says, "I don't try to annoy other people." Sookie: "Well, congratulations, because you have a natural talent." So mean, you say? But here, in fact, is where Al Lowe reminds you that she is married. To a man. Possibly the neat-freakiest, military-trained husband in the world, yes, but still one who manages to cause some unnatural disaster on nearly every visit to a home other than his own. My beloved father was the same way -- in fact, he was twice as bad. So, as far as Sookie's pain goes? I'm feeling it.

I would not, however, have thought to go so far as to pack my husband a salad for dinner, as Sookie did, and I can't blame Jackson for rushing her out the door before Lorelai even gets off the phone. When Lorelai does finally return to find Jackson alone, she delivers the sad news that Gypsy has declared her car unfixable. "Total internal destruction," she says. "I guess that 'check engine' light is not just a suggestion. Although, I'm proud. Total internal destruction? That sounds bad-ass." When Jackson offers her a ride on the way to the farm at 4:45 the morning, she declines, saying she's going to take her bicycle instead. "There for about two weeks when Rory was ten, we were really into biking," she says. Jackson: "Twelve years ago?!" Lorelai looks worried when she realizes how long ago it really was. "Well, I'll be fine," she says. "They must have the phrase 'it's just like riding a bike' for a reason." She says she's going to have a snack, and invites him to join her. "Oh, actually, no," he says, all pitiful. "Sookie made me a salad." Lorelai: "Pffft. I'm making chicken nuggets. I won't tell!"

The morning at breakfast, Rory takes a call from her mom in the dining hall. She's a little down after all the craziness with Paris. While she's happy that her friends know what they're doing year -- one of her friends even accepted a position with a D.C. think tank -- it has made her sad and worried about her own future. Cut to Lorelai, cute as hell on her very cute bike, wearing a poofy-sleeved blouse and cycling down the road. Leaving aside for a moment the extreme danger she is putting herself in by talking on the phone, even hands-free, while riding a bike, I must reiterate the cuteness. Rory apologizes for not getting more info on the think tank, knowing Lorelai's not-unjustified fascination with them, and reports that the think-tank guy has an average-to-small forehead, despite what one might naturally assume. Lorelai reports on the car situation, and agrees when Rory suggests she get a DeLorean. "It's on the list," she says, "right behind the Batmobile."

At the Dragonfly, Lorelai looks through a car book and discusses her options with Sookie. I really liked this episode, but all this car stuff is super-boring. Sookie asks how Jackson is behaving, assuming the worst, and Lorelai says he's been nothing but fine. Sookie is surprised and seems almost disappointed, prompting Lorelai to ask if everything is all right between Sookie and Jackson. "He's just kind of getting on my nerves a little lately," she admits, pointing to her belly. "I'm a little cranky. You know, the little one's been keeping me up at night." Wow, Melissa McCarthy is such a cute pregnant lady -- you can really see the change in her face. I believe she is due this month, actually. Michel comes in to be completely unfunny about Lorelai potentially buying a Ferrari. "Don't listen to him," Sookie says. "Here's what I want you to do. Close your eyes. Imagine your dream car. You're backing out of the driveway, you're driving through Stars Hollow...'good morning, townspeople! Top of the morning to ya!" Lorelai wonders why she's suddenly a leprechaun, but says she thinks she can picture her new car. "It's more of a float, really," she says, "and I'm all dressed in white..." Sookie sighs. "That's not a very practical car," she says.

Lorelai muses aloud on the possibility of getting a cool vintage car, but Michel, who so very obviously has angered someone in the writer's room this week, snorts and snarks his way through a description of used cars that could only have been gleaned from watching horror films. Used cars apparently contain the dead skin, body odor, germs, and lice from all owners, or something blah blah obsessive-compulsive unfunniness. Don't waste the talents of television's preeminent bitchy queen on such drivel. It is enough, however, to alarm Sookie, who says that if Lorelai does decide to get a vintage car, she doesn't think she can sit in it. Lorelai says not to worry -- she's in a different position now than she was eight years ago, and she can afford to get a new car with all the perks. The problem, she says, is that she doesn't know where to start when choosing one. "You know," she tells Sookie, "this is something Luke would be good at. I mean, in the old days." She says that when they were friends, this is something she would have asked him to help her with. Sookie says that sounds like a great idea, actually, and adds that with the built-in safe topic of conversation, this might be the thing that helps Luke and Lorelai get over their awkward hump. Whoa! Sorry. Hump of awkwardness? Whichever way I say it sounds wrong. Humpish? No. Lorelai goes out, saying she'll think about it, and Sookie takes a call from Jackson. "Wait a minute, wait...," she says, trying to calm him down. "You did what?!"

Meanwhile, Lorelai goes out front to call Luke and is surprised when he immediately and happily offers to help her with the car stuff. She smiles a tiny, hopeful smile, but...when he picks her up and they are alone in his truck, the awkward hump (see?) returns. He says he's sorry he can't turn on the radio -- it's really static-y -- but she says she's fine with not having music. She tries to joke around with him, but he misreads it and they awkwardly talk about April and the planned boat trip until silence once again reigns and he is forced to turn on the static just to fill the void.

Rory arrives home to find Doyle charging out the door. "HAVE A NICE LIFE!" he screams back toward the apartment, slamming the door behind him. To Rory, he announces that Paris has just broken up with him. "She did? Why?" she asks. "I don't know," Doyle answers, "maybe because SHE'S PSYCHO?!" From inside, we hear Paris argue that she is NOT PSYCHO. Doyle counters that YES, SHE IS. "I WILL NOT TAKE IT BACK," he screams at the door, "because YOU are a CERTIFIABLE NUTJOB." He's correct, of course. Rory goes inside to find a very serene Paris wearing what I swear is a purple pantsuit with silver flats. Paris insists that breaking up with Doyle was the only thing to do -- she has this big decision to make and does not want him influencing it. After all, she points out, it is statistically unlikely that she will stay with her college boyfriend long-term. "So, how am I going to feel in twenty years," she argues, "when I look back and realize that I based such a huge decision on some college guy who may or may not make the holiday newsletter cutoff?" Rory's making the biggest sad face, ever. "But," she says, "you love him." Paris shrugs. "Yeah, well," she says, "I'll deal." The good news, she says, she has come up with a highly complicated decision-making schematic to help her choose which school to attend. The problem, however, is that her embarrassment of riches continues to grow. She's received three more acceptances. Rory gets that worried look again -- seeing it, Paris tells her that nothing has come from the Times. Sighing, Rory gets up and goes to play her messages. It's the infernal Lucy! She and Olivia are inviting Rory to come and toast their new Manhattan apartment, Glenda. Yes, they named their new apartment. "Weird," Paris says in what is the biggest understatement I have ever heard her use. Rory notices that Paris is sort of sad and lonely, and invites her along.

Back at the CrapShack, Sookie and Jackson stand before the reason for Jackson's earlier panicked phone call as Paul Anka whines a foreboding whine. Jackson has jacked up (ha!) Lorelai's dollhouse. Apparently, he was admiring it and thinking he might make one for Martha, and when he picked it up to check out its support system, it was way heavier than he thought, and he dropped it. And... then he fell on it. "You broke the only thing from Lorelai's childhood that she actually liked," Sookie yelps. "How could you? Why did you have to touch it?" Again, he insists that it was just an accident and tries to think of a solution. "Maybe I could try and put it back together?" he says. Sookie snorts: "Yeah, you're so handy." Jackson has had it. "Okay, that's enough," he says. "I know what this is about, and it's not about this dollhouse." Sookie says that of course this is about the dollhouse, that she's already said she's excited about the baby. "But that's not the same as you forgiving me," he says, "which you haven't done." Let's keep it real here for a second -- I love Jackson, but saying you got a vasectomy which you then did not get and "accidentally" getting your wife pregnant is a far larger deal than he seems to think. I'm glad Sookie is still mad about it -- and she finally admits that yeah, she is. Every time she's in pain with the pregnancy or Davey and Martha have tantrums or get sick, she gets scared about having the third baby, and then feels guilty about it and mad that Jackson has put her into this situation. "I understand," he says. "I'm still mad at myself. It's just that at some point... you are going to forgive me eventually, right?" Sookie says she wants to, really, but she's overwhelmed. They sit quietly and review the wreckage of the dollhouse. "Boy," she says, putting her hand on his knee, "you really plowed into that thing, huh?"

Things aren't going so well over at the car lot. Luke is trying to help Lorelai choose a car, but she's...being super-ridiculous, talking a bunch of quirky, car-related bullshit about how she just isn't getting the right "feeling" from any of these cars on the lot. Finally, Sookie calls, interrupting the misery. "I'm gonna buy a car," Lorelai says, "just to get out of here." Sookie is only calling to judge her level of frustration so that she can prepare for the dollhouse reveal, and is alarmed to find out how badly it's going. Lorelai says she wants to leave, and can tell Luke wants to, but neither of them can say it. "I don't know how Ryan and Farrah do it," she says, "because this whole friendship thing is not working out." She hangs up, trying to psych herself up to look at more cars. Finally, Luke finds her the newer model of her Jeep to look at. She, of course, doesn't like it. "What exactly is bugging you?" he asks, finally showing his frustration. "You don't buy a car based on a feeling!" Lorelai: "No, YOU don't buy a car based on a feeling." He sighs the sigh of the damned, saying this is typical of her. "This is bathroom tiles all over again," he says, causing her to renew their old argument. "I was right about the tiles," she says. "The tiles were too big for the bathroom." He says again that the tiles were not "too big," that that doesn't even make sense. In a STUNNING turn of hypocrisy, Lorelai accuses him of being "narrow-minded," and it's just too much for his flannelled brain to take. In an homage to my very favorite scene in A Fish Called Wanda ("The central message of Buddhism is not 'every man for himself!'"), Luke goes for the throat: "Sports cars don't think they're better than other cars, okay? Hatchbacks don't have SUV-inferiority complexes. Yeah, and sedans aren't afraid to get dirty!" Awesome.

Though Luke is utterly, painfully, gloriously correct, Lorelai eggs him on, suggesting that his crabbiness is probably due to hunger. "I think I have some cookies in here!" she says. "Some Oreos!" He ramps up his rant, saying he's not hungry and anyway, he wouldn't eat anything that came out of her messy bag -- it sends him into an entirely new rage about how she never cleans out her purse and wastes untold hours digging around in it...then suddenly, he looks up to catch her grinning. "What?" he yells. "You're smiling." Lorelai: "No, no. You've got low blood sugar!" Somehow keeping his head from blowing off, he says no, he doesn't, and he gets her to admit that she's not going to buy a car. "You need a milkshake," she says in response, and she tries to rock-paper-scissors him to get him to agree to stop on the way home. He won't. "So," she says, "you forfeit." As he shoves her into the car, screeching that they aren't stopping, we see a glimmer of the old Luke and Lorelai we have so sorely missed. Thank goodness. Now if they can just figure out how to make me forget that whole April plotline, all my wishes would come true.

Lorelai pedals home to find Sookie and Jackson sitting on her front steps. They nervously avoid the subject of the dollhouse by asking how things went with Luke. Lorelai exuberantly tells them that it was great -- they got in a fight and it totally got them over the hump of awkwardness. She did not, however, find a car. She likes her old car, she says, and all the memories it contains. "I know I have to move on," she says. "I know whatever new car/tractor/float I get will be great. It's just been a more emotional experience than I thought." Sookie and Jackson look at each other and sadly agree that all of that makes sense. Lorelai looks at them sideways: "What's wrong with you two?" Sookie takes a deep breath. She says they have to tell her something and it's awful timing because they're talking about memories and this thing is associated with memories, but... "Jackson broke your dollhouse." Lorelai's face goes white. "How broke?" she gasps. Sookie: "In a box, in pieces. Trust me, you don't want to look." Jackson is mortified, and apologizes deeply. Sookie tries, as well, to take the blame, saying that she had Jackson on edge about his behavior, and that they're both really sorry. Meanwhile, Paul Anka sits quietly in the grass, removing himself completely from the guilty parties. Lorelai, looking very sad, says she knows it was an accident. Sookie tells her that the not-so-disastrous news is that they've found someone to repair it and are taking it to get fixed tomorrow. "I'm sure it will be fine," Lorelai says. "Yeah," Sookie says, "everything can be fixed, right?" WHANG! They haul Sookie up to her feet and go inside.

Rory and Paris share a pitcher with Lucy and Olivia (who appear to be wearing the same clothes from when we last saw them?) at a bar. The cutesy twins tell them all about their new place, and bemoan their post-college financial straits. "Hey," Rory says, turning to a depressed-looking Paris to try to involve her in the conversation, "do they have student housing at Columbia?" Paris mutters a "maybe" and Lucy and Olivia catch on, leaving them alone. Rory asks Paris if she's really okay. "I just miss him," she says of Doyle. Paris finally admits that Doyle wasn't really pressuring her at all. "It was me," she says. Doyle told her that he would work it out, wherever she decided to go, but she couldn't really factor his needs out of the equation. "I should choose a school based on its merits," she says, starting to cry, "not based on its proximity to some guy!" Rory reminds her that Doyle isn't just some guy; he's Doyle! "I know," Paris laments, killing me. "But I'm only twenty-two! This wasn't supposed to happen yet! I wasn't supposed to meet The Guy until I was thirty...and when I was ready to settle down." Rory tries to calm Paris down, saying that one can't plan everything and that being in love with Doyle is a good thing. Paris asks if Rory is having these same talks with Logan. Rory says yes, and that they've agreed to factor each other in. Paris challenges her to carry that idea forward to its end -- say she gets the Reston, and meanwhile Logan gets some great deal where he needs to move to San Francisco. Would she accept a perfectly good job at the San Francisco Chronicle or choose The New York Times? Rory hesitates before admitting she'd go for the Times. "Well, then," Paris shrugs sadly, "we're saying the same thing, aren't we?" Rory tries to argue that they're not. "But you're saying," Paris reiterates, "that your career comes first." Rory: "Well...I didn't say it comes first. I'm just not willing to make any sacrifices in that area yet." Paris points out that as a result, she has to be willing to make sacrifices in her relationship. Rory says that, well, if they have to, she and Logan will just have a long-distance relationship and make it work somehow. "Then again," Paris says, "choosing to be apart...might be choosing to be apart."

Luke screeches into Lorelai's driveway and stomps to the door, where he is surprised to find Jackson, wearing pajamas. "We thought you were the pizza guy!" Jackson says, all excited, offering Luke some chicken nuggets. "We're gonna eat everything on the couch!" Hee. Poor Jackson. Lorelai steps out and Luke cuts to the chase. He borrowed Kirk's computer, got Zach to show him how to use craigslist, and found a Jeep just like hers for sale. He went out to see it, ran its history, and took it for a test drive, and it runs great. "So, if you want to keep your old car," he sighs, "for whatever crazy feeling it gives you, then buy this guy's car, take it to Gypsy. She'll take the engine out and put it in your old car. Which makes ABSOLUTELY no sense, because basically you're paying the same amount of money to fix your old car as you would be paying to get you in a new one." Through all this, Lorelai grins to herself. Finally, Luke whips out a card with the guy's number. He's already negotiated down the price and made all the arrangements for her. "It's still a ridiculous idea," he says. Lorelai: "I know." He sighs again and stomps back toward his truck, yelling back over his shoulder that if, in the mean time, she intends to keep riding around on the bike, she needs to stop by his place and he'll put air in her tires. She yells that she doesn't need any, but he yells back that she does, plus a bell so that people will know she's coming. "What if I don't want people to know I'm coming?" she calls as he gets in the truck. "I'M PUTTIN' ON A BELL!" he yells back. Lorelai: "I WANT A HORN!" Slamming his door as she smiles on her porch, he yells again that, fine, if she wants a horn, he'll get her one. Hooray! All that car stuff was worth it for that cranky exchange.

The morning, Paris and Rory are quiet over their breakfast when Paris suddenly has an announcement. "So," she says, "I don't know where I'll be, but I think I know what I'll be: a doctor." Rory smiles and says that's great, while I shudder to think of the loss our fictional legal system has just suffered with Paris Gellar's decision to become a fictional doctor. Not to mention the suffering of all her future fictional patients. "The truth is," Paris says, "I want to be a physician, always have." Well, that's settled, just in time for Doyle to return. He walks in, using his key. "What are you doing here?" Paris asks, accusingly. "I live here," he says, nonchalant. He says he changed his mind about that whole moving-out thing, and as a matter of fact, the whole breaking-up thing? Changed his mind about that as well. He's brought in the mail and picks it up now. "Oh, by the way," he says, "I think we got into two more med schools." Paris rolls her eyes, asking him what he's talking about. "I love you, Paris Gellar," he says, dropping the day's mail in front of Rory. "You are the strongest, most infuriating, most exciting woman I've ever met in my entire life. Anywhere you go? I'm going." Paris: "We're too young to do this!" Doyle shrugs, saying well, maybe she is, but he's older and way more mature. For perhaps the first time in her life, Paris is temporarily speechless. "So," she says, leading him into their bedroom, "you're saying that if I go to Alaska, you're going, too?" Yep, he says. His plan is to be with her. It's so sweet, and Rory tries to make herself invisible during it all, but when they are finally behind closed doors, she grabs up the mail. Her letter from the Times has finally arrived. They regret to inform her, she didn't get the Reston.