30 DAY TELEVISION MEME
DAY 04 | YOUR FAVORITE SHOW EVER
ABOUT GILMORE GIRLS
Gilmore Girls is an American comedy drama series created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, starring Lauren Graham and Alexis Bledel. The series made its debut on The WB on October 5, 2000, and ended on May 15, 2007, in its seventh season, which aired on The CW. The show placed #32 on Entertainment Weekly's "New TV Classics" list, and in 2007 it was listed as one of Time magazine's "100 Best TV Shows of All-TIME." The show is known for its fast dialogue with endless run-on sentences. The show follows single mother Lorelai Victoria Gilmore (Graham) and her daughter Lorelai "Rory" Leigh Gilmore (Bledel) in the fictional town of Stars Hollow, Connecticut, a close-knit New England town (based on Washington Depot, Connecticut) with many quirky characters, located roughly thirty minutes from Hartford, Connecticut. The series explores family, friendship, generational divides, and social class. Gilmore Girls features frequent popular culture and political references and social commentary that manifest most clearly in Lorelai's difficult relationship with her wealthy upper-class parents. [Source: wikipedia]
Season 2/3 cast of Gilmore Girls.
MY THOUGHTS
Oh, what can I say? Gilmore Girls was the number one show for me - at least until about the middle of the fifth season. I lost faith in it during the end of its run, but despite that it still remains my favorite. The characters, the dialogue, the coffee; I love it all. I think one of the reasons I like this show so much is because it’s fun. Just plain fun. And the quotes - Oy with the poodles! - I can quote. Also, it has one of my OTPs in it. Jess and Rory. I think I’ll ship it until the day I die. (Team Literati!)
FIC RECS
Redemption by TrappedInPast |Complete - Chaptered|
She pulled at the tie on her bathrobe and began to talk, so fast and babbling that she knew she would be lucky if he could just understand her. "I . . . I . . . well the guy I'm dating talked about Ernest Hemingway today. Tonight. A few hours ago. He wouldn't let it drop, and I just lost it. I don't really know why. Well, I know why, but it's stupid. I need . . . I should be . . . I mean, any guy has the right to talk about Ernest Hemingway. And I need to let whoever wants to talk about Ernest Hemingway talk about Ernest -"
He didn't put her out of her misery like she had hoped he would, but secretly known he wouldn't. He didn't say a thing. She took a deep breath and tried to regroup. An owl was sitting on the top of her dorm building, and when it fluttered away, she spoke again. "I need you to tell me . . . I need you to tell me that you've moved on and you don't care about me anymore."
Death Of A Ghost by Angeleyz |Incomplete - Chaptered|
"Jess." Luke was by his side. "The company sent this to Rory's friends and family to, uh, make sure they didn't…" He stopped, too uncomfortable to continue. "Here, just take it."
Luke handed him a piece of paper; it was small and thick, identical to a subscription card of a magazine. It said:
Rory Gilmore has had Jess Mariano erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again. Thank you.
Lacuna Ltd.
610 11th Avenue, NY, NY
The Spit Plate by Green Eve |Complete - One Shot|
Standing there with a mondo huge headache pulsing behind his eye, it took him a long time to clue into a fact that was apparent to everybody else assembled: Something Was Happening. An incident. A girl had come into the kitchen, a girl who didn't belong there. She had dark hair falling in soft curls to her shoulders, and an odd posture, hunched and tentative, as if she were afraid of a harsh word or raised fist. He couldn't hear her voice, or see her face, but he took an involuntary step forward, leaning around the counter. What he saw was a slender ankle, so finely wrought, that it made his breath catch in his throat. He squeezed his hands into fists.
Poetry was for jerks and losers, but he could have written a sonnet about that ankle. When she had been his, he had gotten to touch and see so little of her. A hand on the small of her back under her sweater, a finger grazing her belly when she lay back on the couch to pull him down for a kiss. Most of the time she had worn jeans, or her school uniform with little girl tights. The evenings she dressed for dinner with her grandparents, the sight of her feet in heels, those pale ankles, had moved him in a way he couldn't explain.
ABOUT GILMORE GIRLS
Gilmore Girls is an American comedy drama series created by Amy Sherman-Palladino, starring Lauren Graham and Alexis Bledel. The series made its debut on The WB on October 5, 2000, and ended on May 15, 2007, in its seventh season, which aired on The CW. The show placed #32 on Entertainment Weekly's "New TV Classics" list, and in 2007 it was listed as one of Time magazine's "100 Best TV Shows of All-TIME." The show is known for its fast dialogue with endless run-on sentences. The show follows single mother Lorelai Victoria Gilmore (Graham) and her daughter Lorelai "Rory" Leigh Gilmore (Bledel) in the fictional town of Stars Hollow, Connecticut, a close-knit New England town (based on Washington Depot, Connecticut) with many quirky characters, located roughly thirty minutes from Hartford, Connecticut. The series explores family, friendship, generational divides, and social class. Gilmore Girls features frequent popular culture and political references and social commentary that manifest most clearly in Lorelai's difficult relationship with her wealthy upper-class parents. [Source: wikipedia]
Season 2/3 cast of Gilmore Girls.
MY THOUGHTS
Oh, what can I say? Gilmore Girls was the number one show for me - at least until about the middle of the fifth season. I lost faith in it during the end of its run, but despite that it still remains my favorite. The characters, the dialogue, the coffee; I love it all. I think one of the reasons I like this show so much is because it’s fun. Just plain fun. And the quotes - Oy with the poodles! - I can quote. Also, it has one of my OTPs in it. Jess and Rory. I think I’ll ship it until the day I die. (Team Literati!)
FIC RECS
Redemption by TrappedInPast |Complete - Chaptered|
She pulled at the tie on her bathrobe and began to talk, so fast and babbling that she knew she would be lucky if he could just understand her. "I . . . I . . . well the guy I'm dating talked about Ernest Hemingway today. Tonight. A few hours ago. He wouldn't let it drop, and I just lost it. I don't really know why. Well, I know why, but it's stupid. I need . . . I should be . . . I mean, any guy has the right to talk about Ernest Hemingway. And I need to let whoever wants to talk about Ernest Hemingway talk about Ernest -"
He didn't put her out of her misery like she had hoped he would, but secretly known he wouldn't. He didn't say a thing. She took a deep breath and tried to regroup. An owl was sitting on the top of her dorm building, and when it fluttered away, she spoke again. "I need you to tell me . . . I need you to tell me that you've moved on and you don't care about me anymore."
Death Of A Ghost by Angeleyz |Incomplete - Chaptered|
"Jess." Luke was by his side. "The company sent this to Rory's friends and family to, uh, make sure they didn't…" He stopped, too uncomfortable to continue. "Here, just take it."
Luke handed him a piece of paper; it was small and thick, identical to a subscription card of a magazine. It said:
Rory Gilmore has had Jess Mariano erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again. Thank you.
Lacuna Ltd.
610 11th Avenue, NY, NY
The Spit Plate by Green Eve |Complete - One Shot|
Standing there with a mondo huge headache pulsing behind his eye, it took him a long time to clue into a fact that was apparent to everybody else assembled: Something Was Happening. An incident. A girl had come into the kitchen, a girl who didn't belong there. She had dark hair falling in soft curls to her shoulders, and an odd posture, hunched and tentative, as if she were afraid of a harsh word or raised fist. He couldn't hear her voice, or see her face, but he took an involuntary step forward, leaning around the counter. What he saw was a slender ankle, so finely wrought, that it made his breath catch in his throat. He squeezed his hands into fists.
Poetry was for jerks and losers, but he could have written a sonnet about that ankle. When she had been his, he had gotten to touch and see so little of her. A hand on the small of her back under her sweater, a finger grazing her belly when she lay back on the couch to pull him down for a kiss. Most of the time she had worn jeans, or her school uniform with little girl tights. The evenings she dressed for dinner with her grandparents, the sight of her feet in heels, those pale ankles, had moved him in a way he couldn't explain.