*weeps weepfully and with fabulous hair*
writerj you said you wanted to know:
It was Marissa, and though it was clear from the abrupt sailing-to-Greece-with-Daddy subplot that allowed her to say tearful happy goodbyes to everyone, I still spent the entire episode in fear because what if they were being clever and making us think it was going to be Marissa, when really it's going to be Sandy. But no. Marissa. And it was very, very, very sad, and poor Ryan is wrecked. And they played a really harsh, beautiful, acapella cover of "Hallelujah" that made it more wrecking. But still, even with all that, it didn't make me cry as much as last years 5-minute intervention (or, more specifically, Seth's build-up to and eventual participation in same), which in turn did not make me bawl the way the leaving-on-a-sailboat ending to the first season did.
In sum: I am a weepy titty baby, and no mistake.
In other news, Fabulous Steven has rendered me fabulous once again. For those of you who have seen me in the last year or so, nearly half my hair is gone. Well, maybe not half, but it's a good inch or two above my shoulders. Probably just an inch, accounting for the sassy flip I've got going on tonight. Apparently I need to purchase styling implements created within the last decade to maintain it. I swear, I think my hairdryer dates from high school.
Despite the weeping, I'm feeling in need of a serious catharsis cry. Perhaps I will put on the Season 1 finale and bawl myself to sleep.
ETA: Oh, yeah. That did the trick. Nothing like a good old fashioned soap-opera-dramedy inspired crying jag to release the pent-up crap.
It was Marissa, and though it was clear from the abrupt sailing-to-Greece-with-Daddy subplot that allowed her to say tearful happy goodbyes to everyone, I still spent the entire episode in fear because what if they were being clever and making us think it was going to be Marissa, when really it's going to be Sandy. But no. Marissa. And it was very, very, very sad, and poor Ryan is wrecked. And they played a really harsh, beautiful, acapella cover of "Hallelujah" that made it more wrecking. But still, even with all that, it didn't make me cry as much as last years 5-minute intervention (or, more specifically, Seth's build-up to and eventual participation in same), which in turn did not make me bawl the way the leaving-on-a-sailboat ending to the first season did.
In sum: I am a weepy titty baby, and no mistake.
In other news, Fabulous Steven has rendered me fabulous once again. For those of you who have seen me in the last year or so, nearly half my hair is gone. Well, maybe not half, but it's a good inch or two above my shoulders. Probably just an inch, accounting for the sassy flip I've got going on tonight. Apparently I need to purchase styling implements created within the last decade to maintain it. I swear, I think my hairdryer dates from high school.
Despite the weeping, I'm feeling in need of a serious catharsis cry. Perhaps I will put on the Season 1 finale and bawl myself to sleep.
ETA: Oh, yeah. That did the trick. Nothing like a good old fashioned soap-opera-dramedy inspired crying jag to release the pent-up crap.