Finale Gleecap: Journey
I hope for the sake of all of you that you’ve had that thing. The thing you did, that you tried on a chance, that you weren’t sure you’d be good at, but that you wanted to do, just to find out. Just to know.
Just because you were willing to take a chance.
A chance on yourself.
A chance on other people.
I played sports in high school, and I was bad at it, but it was the thing I didn’t have to be good at, so I didn’t mind. I was usually in charge of some dorky thing or another, and being in charge…well, that’s different. Being in charge isn’t taking a chance. Being in charge is being the best (because you make the rules), and there’s no risk in that.
So in college, I did this dorky thing called mock trial. And look, I was terrible. I was on a team that was terrible. And the captain of the team - he was this real son of a bitch, and probably the biggest nerd on the planet - he just kept pushing us and pushing us, and I was going through some stuff, some breakup stuff, and I may or may not have led a quiet mutiny against him….
And then.
Well.
About two weeks before our regionals competition, I realized, you know, why are you being such a bitch?
Part of it?
Was because I was bad at something. I was BAD. And I was afraid of being bad, I was afraid of saying, “I didn’t know,” I was afraid of saying, “Please teach me.”
(I also ended up dating that guy for five years after that. I’m sure that was a contributing factor.)
There wasn’t enough time to salvage that year. We were still bad, and we lost at regionals, but damn if it wasn’t one the best things that ever happened to me. Because the next year, I started saying, “I don’t know,” and “Please teach me,” and it turns out that I was actually pretty good at this stuff.
My team just missed out on winning regionals outright and going to nationals. Four of us rode back in a car together, and cried, and it was pitiful. Three of us were seniors, and one was a freshman, and he’s this kid that I sort of ended up adopting. He would show up and eat all the food in my apartment and sleep on my couch and call me when he was drunk, but I never minded, because there are just some people who you’re going to love the hell out of, if you get the chance to know them.
I still got to go to nationals that year; our school had earned a bid, and we put together the best team we could, to no avail. After that, I went to law school at the same university, and I coached, and watched kids go from bad to brilliant, and knew that I had a hand in it.
The freshman eventually became a senior. He’s going to medical school next year, and when he wrote his application essay, he wrote about his first year of mock trial, and me, and my boyfriend, and how much he loved us. He texts and calls, and I kid and say, “I’m so proud of my son, the doctor,” but the truth is, it wouldn’t matter if he was my own little brother; I couldn’t be more proud of him.
Here’s what I’m saying: it’s the people that matter. It’s the moments you spend together, getting to know each other, teaching each other, leaning on each other, staying up late, laughing, fighting, flirting. It is, as Mr. Schue says, about the journey. Because you can win as many trophies as there are fake gold stars in the world, but you don’t end up remembering the competitions at all. You remember the way it felt to know you could trust another person with something that, at the time, seemed so precious. You remember the rush.
You remember, most of all, what it was like to be part of something that mattered.
And it’s the most bittersweet feeling in the world.
-
1. Will, adorable, sweet, darling Will, with such wide-eyed optimism that you almost have to wonder if he puts uppers in his coffee in the morning, just because….
2. Here comes Hurricane Sue. As it so happens, Sue’s new celebrity status as Greatest Cheerleading Coach Ever (Kurt Hummel, you’ve got to explain to me one day about the 14 minute Celene Dion tribute) has landed her a spot on the judging panel for - wait for it - the glee club regionals!
3. Okay, this is one of those things that the show is asking us to accept. In reality, there’s no way in hot damn hell that the other schools would let Sue be on the panel. She wouldn’t be asked. Parents would RIOT. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the mess a parent can make over this sort of thing, but the only thing that outstrips it is the fit that can be thrown by a well and put out coach. She never would have even been asked. But, because this is necessary to the plot, you have to let this type of thing go. That’s something about Glee - it operates in its own parody of reality. That’s part of the show. Anyway. Moving on.
4. “I’ve got to be honest, Will. I’m having a hard time hearing anything you’re saying today, because your hair looks like a briar patch. I keep expecting to see racist Disney characters to pop up and start singing songs about livin’ on the bayou.”
5. I can only say that Jane Lynch deserves…pretty much every award ever, because of her ability to say ridiculous things and keep a straight face. I love her. Have loved her since “Best in Show” (which, if you haven’t seen…why the hell are you reading this and not seeing it?).
6. (Also, her delivery of the line, “I am legend. It has happened.” If wish I could some how synthesize that delivery and drink it every morning. That sounded gross.)
7. Also, Principal Figgins? You’re, like, the most spineless person on the planet. Just saying.
8. Then, we hop into our time machines, and go back to…about 8 or so months ago. Quinn and Puck are Quinn and Puck, but not the way we recognize them now. Quinn’s in her Cheerios uniform…and y’all, what’s the thing, on TV, where cheerleaders and football players are always walking around in their uniforms? I understand that, within the paradigm of the show, it makes sense for this to be the case, because the show is (in part) about the labels people assign to themselves, and the way those labels change, and define, and then are redefined themselves. But why is this such a common thing in the media? At my high school, the cheerleaders and football players would wear their uniforms on game days. That was it. Thoughts?
9. Anyway, back in time, Puck is getting Quinn to down wine coolers. She puts up something that resembles a fight, but is really just a lot of things to say to make herself feel better. Rachel said it best, back in “Showmance” (it was “Showmance,” wasn’t it?), “Girls want sex just as bad as guys do.” On a basic level, I believe this is true. Quinn wanted to have sex, maybe with Puck, maybe with Finn, maybe with whomever. This does not make her slutty; this makes her 16. This does not mean that 16-year-old girls (or boys) should be having sex. But to ignore the reality that (a) they want to and (b) some of them are SO going to is (c) stupid.
10. But really, I think the most interesting part of this moment is the things that are different, and the things that are the same. When Puck tells her, “This isn’t just another hook up for me,” I think we’ve been given the evidence to believe that’s true. Puck does care about her. But Puck is 16. Puck’s stupid. That’s is (as stated in #9) part of being 16. If you are 16, and reading this…yes, I called you stupid, but it’s not your fault. I was stupid. I’m still stupid; I’m just slightly more adept at hiding it. You don’t really get any smarter with age; you get less outwardly embarrassing. The show also calls us back to Quinn’s reference that a moment of regret in her life was believing a boy when he said “trust me” about birth control methods. Oh, Quinn. Do you see, people, the trouble that is caused when you don’t give kids the tools to understand safe sex?
11. We flash forward again to Quinn, but this Quinn is very different from the girl who was drinking Bartles & Jaymes with a stuffed lamb looking on while she and Puck get busy (no, really, there’s a stuffed lamb right above her head. I cannot make such a thing up). You know, there are plenty of complaints about places where the show has dropped the ball, development-wise, but I really think the progression of Quinn’s character has been great. I couldn’t stand the bitch; now I love her. And her friendship with Mercedes…I get teary-eyed just thinking about it.
12. In Mr. Schue’s living room, where they are supposed to be having a Regionals song nomination party, the Glee club is in utter despair at the news of Sue’s plans for destruction. Brittany even looks sad, which is like seeing your rubber ducky cry. It’s pitiful. Artie’s big eyes behind his glasses are bordering on red-rimmed, and Tina….
13. OH, TINA.
14. (I love your pink hair, btw! And why the hell haven’t you had your fair share of solos? I’m hoping this is corrected in Season 2.)
15. Tina is crying. And y’all…it’s heartbreaking. She only had two facebook friends before this year - her parents. Mr. Schue looks like that one just punched him right in the gut. She says, echoing Rachel, “Being part of something, it made me special.”
16. Here’s the thing about that. Rachel/Tina is ALMOST right. Being part of something special makes you realize that you ARE special. (And yes, this recap is brought to you by Hallmark.)
17. Tina remarks that when they are destroyed by the evil spite of Sue Sylvester, then it’ll all be over. Finn, in all of his boyish, adorable, “let’s go get ‘em!” wonder, says, “Who says all of this is going to be over?” Because Finn’s at that point, you know? It’s not going to be over for him, not matter what. He’d still be after Rachel, he’d still sing, he’d still be nice, and kind, and friendly to every person in that room. You know why? Because Finn’s That Guy. He’s what That Guy looks like when he’s 16, and he’s figuring out that he might be That Guy.
18. Also, if someone meets That Guy, could you please tell him that he’s lost? I’ve been looking for him since I started watching Dawson’s Creek in 1998. Thanks.
19. Mercedes bring the reality - the cool kids (read: Puck and Santana) aren’t going to hang with them anymore. Brittany probably still would, but that’s because she wouldn’t know better, poor thing. Rachel, instead of being all, “People, I cannot believe your lack of professionalism, pull it together, do you know what Barbara Streisand had to go through, Sue Sylvester is nothing to us,” is crying, and asks that they all just cry and talk about how they love each other.
20. (I’ve done the cry and talk about how much you love each other thing. It’s usually after you lose. When you get older, you don’t do it sober, because you’ve gotten better at being less embarrassing…until you drink. See # 10, above, for more about being less embarrassing.)
21. At McKinley, Will is in Emma’s office-
22. HI, EMMA! Hi, dropped plot for most of the back 9. Hi, Jayma Mays, you are like an adorable bunny or perhaps a deer, and why the fuck you would go off to do the Smurfs while you were in the throes of some really serious possibly will they/won’t they romance on a new hit tv show, I will never know. Because I like you, Emma/Jayma Mays, but you have not become so permanent in my heart that I can’t forget about you and have Will Schuester with someone else.
23. (“Someone else” meaning me, in my bed, like right now, thanks.)
24. Anyway, Will’s in Emma’s office, telling her that it’s just about a miracle that he didn’t start crying along with the kids. Emma, not exactly friendly (I guess she wouldn’t be? After their last encounter? I cannot even begin to approach that mess), asks Will what he’s doing in her office. Well, he’s looking for guidance. He doesn’t know what to do. Emma brings it back to what it’s supposed to be, and dammit, I already feel myself being pulled back in to the Emma/Will love fest, because she’s talking about how Will’s been telling the kids all year, it’s about loving what you’re doing, not winning, and-
25. I’ve got to say this. I’ve just paused the TV, so I can type, and what the HELL is Emma wearing? Why did that white bowtie thing happen? In what realm of life is that okay? And that sweater? WTF?
26. Anyway, Will makes his glow-y, beautiful, “I’m so amazed by you” face, and I melt into a puddle. Emma must feel it, too, because in reaction, she tells Will about Carl, her dentist, who she has been dating.
27. (I don’t want to spoil. So I’ll just say, those of you, who have found out who is playing Carl? PLEASE COMMENT. I do not think I could be more thrilled with this casting decision. COULD NOT.)
28. Will, completely inappropriately, asks if she and Carl have, well, YOU KNOW, which Emma knows is inappropriate, and Will then recognizes is inappropriate, and it SUPER uncomfortable, and-
29. Um.
30. They haven’t.
31. She and Carl.
32. Have not.
33. Had sex.
34. Emma, I guess, just thought Will should know. Since he asked. Maybe she’s just being polite.
35. LIKE HELL! When I first watched the episode, I squealed (for the first of many times)! There is hope, friends!
36. Will’s driving in his car, and there’s this thing with the kids, and this thing with Emma, and how all of this started. He’s thinking about this year, that he was with Terri, and now he’s divorced. He wasn’t even with Emma, but that’s over, and it isn’t. It’s complicated. He built up the club, and the kids, and through them, he rebuilt himself, and it was the greatest thing, the most shining wonderful thing. It was that thing, you know, that thing. That he took a chance on. The thing that might have given him a moment even better than when he competed at Nationals, because if those kids got a chance, it wouldn’t be just his life that he changed. It would be something bigger than just him, and wasn’t that what this was about, and-
37. Dammit, Steve Perry. Just… dammit.
38. Will’s crying, and I’m crying, too. He has stopped his car in the middle of the road, because what else is he supposed to do? That song stops him, right in his tracks, just like it did those months before. He smiles for just a second, and he thinks about the six of them, red T-shirts and jeans, and they sounded wonderful, and he thinks of Finn - Finn, who is so like him, but better, he hopes - and he just breaks. He’s not just crying because of the possibility of the lost chance to win, or what might be lost, but because, he realizes in a rush, the months he’s had with those kids, they are better than any competition he was ever in, any trophy he ever won, and he can’t believe that he didn’t know it until right then. He just can’t believe it.
39. And so he decides. Journey. Of course it’s Journey.
40. Okay, does Lea Michele seriously walk around with her lips all pouty like that all of the time? It seems like it would be really time consuming/tiresome.
41. Finn stops Rachel as she walks down the stairs. Because he’s That Guy, and don’t you think for a second that Rachel hasn’t noticed. He That Guys it up, saying that they had a chance to save it at Mr. Schue’s, and Rachel, it’s up to us, and we’re going to win this thing, and-
42. Really, what else is there for her to do but kiss him? I mean, God, why on earth wouldn’t she? If she didn’t…I cannot fathom who wouldn’t kiss him, when he’s going on like that.
43. And here’s why Cory Monteith is the perfect guy for this role. The look on his face…I mean, THE LOOK ON HIS FACE. Could it be any more perfect? It’s somewhere between befuddled, bewildered, and besotted, and that’s pretty much got to be the permanent residence for anyone who is into Rachel. He has the ability to make the most awesome teenage clueless guy faces on the planet, because he’s just looks so honest.
44. And thank GOD he’s really 27 in real life, or I am certain I would go to jail. Seriously, the guy is 6’4” and built like an oak tree. I ask life for little else.
45. Rachel, for her part, smiles. And it’s a different sort of smile than we usually see. She’s not all self-satisfied and smug, or anything like that. It’s just…nice. I think we’ve only really seen Finn cause it, and ugh, why couldn’t I have had a wonderful boy like this singing through the halls with me, doing a mash up of “Borderline/Open Your Heart”? Where did I go wrong in my adolescence?
46. Rachel and Finn marching to the choir room, ready to rally the troops (Rachel, what the fuck is on the front of that skirt?), but Mr. Schue already has his pitch. I feel like I should walk around life with a quote of the whole thing, because…he really gets it here, you know? When you’ve got your thing? This is what it is, when it’s over, the memory of it. And you sit there, years later, and you say, “Do you remember…oh, what was his name, you know, the guy who always wore that stupid baseball cap?” and you saw him everyday for six months straight, but you can’t remember his name, and it’s not because he wasn’t important, because he was, but his name is a slip of a watch tick, and you’ll get to it, but more ticks will have to go by to remember the more space in time you have from the end….
47. I don’t think that makes a lot of sense to anyone. But there you are.
48. Anyway, this speech: “Life only really has one beginning, and one end, and the rest is just a whole lot of middle.”
49. (And Artie and Tina look at each other, and so do Mercedes and Kurt, and so do Rachel and Finn, who have just kissed, and might have the hardest time thinking that their names won’t always be on the other’s lips, and the thought of what Mr. Schue is saying is a little sad, but they almost can’t even know that, yet. And adults feel jealous of it. I swear they do.)
50. The declaration that they are going to do “Don’t Stop Believin’” reenergizes the group. (And the fact that Rachel refers to it as “Don’t Stop,” I just can’t tell you how much I love that, other than to say that it reminds me of the “Peyton Did It” defense, which is something that my dorky friends and I coined as a nickname for something, and you develop bits and pieces of shorthand language that a few understand…and damn, I didn’t realize just how much I identified with this show, but I really, really do.)
51. Mr. Schue walks into Regionals. I am shocked that he had to have a ticket. Whenever I coached mock trial, I was right there with the kids for a long while, so they could ask me questions, before they had to cross the bar and compete on their own (and there’s something in that, when you coach something like this. You feel the need to separate, give the kids their space, because if you hover too close, it’s like you’re trying to catch a little of their lightning in your own bottle, and that’s not exactly fair, not when you’ve already had your chance at glory, and they haven’t had their full shot at theirs. Maybe that’s why Mr. Schue isn’t with them quite yet? I don’t know.)
52. Can I just say, Matthew Morrison, you look DEADLY in that suit? I’m saying that. Seriously. It is tailored BEAUTIFULLY.
53. It turns out we’ve got a panel of celebrity judges! And we’re not at all shocked to find out who they are! Olivia-Newton John (who an ex-boyfriend of mine saw in concert - and that’s not even the ex who turned out to be gay), Josh Groban (I would SO hit that), the local newscaster weirdo guy (whose name I clearly don’t care to learn), and Sue (who seems to get the loudest cheer? Am I right?). Will claps for each except for Sue, who I’m sure he’d delight in punching in the face.
54. “Ohio’s homegrown iconoclast.” I cannot even deal with that.
55. New Directions hangs out in some kind of ante-room. The Glee Club locker room, if you will. They listen to the (not at all stupidly named) Aural Intensity, who apparently are doing a OLJ/JG mash up.
56. This brings me to another quandary: what the fuck is the set up for this whole deal, anyway? I understand that it goes Sectionals, Regionals, Nationals, but it doesn’t seem like you have to compete against a lot of teams to end up winning, you know? The New York Times had a pretty good post about this: http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/09/dont-start-believin-the-glee-tournament-that-never-was-or-will-be/ (Um, I have actually been in something called an Octogonal. Or was it an Octofinal? I cannot be sure anymore. I told you, memories fade.)
57. Puck’s convinced that they’re set for disaster (he’s really a Donnie Downer, isn’t he?). Rachel and Finn are trying to buck them all up when Mr. Schue walks in and reminds them that they’ve got a secret weapon: Finn’s dancing.
58. Oh, Finn. You are a dancing disaster. And I do love that on set they call him “Frankenteen.”
59. I freaking LOVE these costumes, btw. I would wear those dresses to a fun party. Or maybe a wedding.
60. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
61. Look, I don’t know how people, in general, feel about Rachel/Finn. But personally? I love them. I know that’s a little obvious, to want them to be together, but fuck it. She’s a basket case; he’s…well, he’s a teenage boy, which means he is just dirt dumb, bless his heart. But they both care about this thing, and they care about each other, the best way they know how at this point. I mean, despite the shit, they still care. And they’ve both had their sweet, innocent hearts crushed, but there’s this sort of electricity between them, and it’s everything that teenagers dream about (and what adults dream about, too). So yeah, I love them. They’re adorable.
62. And so it is like this:
You are standing behind the curtain, and there’s a rush. It’s adrenaline, excitement, it is competition.
You will never feel like this again. Not that you won’t feel this same feeling, but it won’t be like this, so fresh, and strong, and new. Later, you will be more practiced, more used to the fear that you’ll learn to run off of, something you are about to convert straight into energy in a jarring way, like a light switching on in a pitch black room. Later, the fear will swim in your stomach, but it won’t reach your veins, it won’t reach your beating heart, because your heart won’t beat so hard, so fast.
(There is something nice in practicing, something that makes things easier, but the afterrush will never be as big as this, and you will find, even when you will live life without the nausea, you will miss it.)
And then, you forget.
You forget the fear, and the nausea, and anything that isn’t his face, because he’s looking at you, and you know he felt all the same things, too, but they don’t matter, this doesn’t matter, none of it matters, because for all the times you’ve had to do things alone, you don’t have to do that anymore.
With him, you are not alone.
With him, you are part of something.
Together, you built what’s on the other side of the curtain.
No performance will ever mean this much. Not nationals, not Broadway, or concerts. None of them. In the life that you will life -and it will be great, you are really that good, and one day, you’ll believe it - there will never be one other performance that will make you feel like this, like you are on fire, and that there is one other person in all the world who knows what that means.
And it’s him.
No matter who you end up with, if you drift apart, if you don’t talk for years (and you logically know all of these things are possible; you are both so young, too young, for this to last forever, even though the deepest part of your soul hopes that it does)-
This part of your heart, and your life, this part of all the fire is just for him, because he’s the only other one who could ever stand the heat.
63. And so it is like this. He thinks - no, he knows - he’s going to throw up. He will puke right on this door, and that’s not going to go well at all, because then his voice will probably be messed up, and Rachel would-
Rachel.
Rachel.
She’s looking at him, and he wonders, briefly, if she felt like this last semester. When she sang “Don’t Rain on My Parade,” and it felt like there was nothing to winning after that, that the entire world was before them, because she made it theirs. She is pushy, and bossy, and mostly pretty terrifying, but-
Rachel.
It’s like a song in his heart, now, even after all of this. He told her, that day in the auditorium, when they kissed (the first time they kissed; he remembers, with a thrill, that there have now been three), that when he first heard her sing, it made him feel something.
She makes him feel something. Something he never felt with Quinn. That he never felt with anybody.
So, she’s looking at him, expectant (and this is not the word that Finn thinks, because he is 16, and he does not know it, yet, or maybe ever, but he feels it). Her hands are on her hair, and he’s forgotten that he wants to throw up, or that he was ever nervous, because-
Rachel.
He walks up to her, and he thinks his heart should be beating so fast, but it’s steady, like her, she’s nuts, but she’s so damned steady, and she says something, but whatever she says, it doesn’t matter, because-
“I love you.”
That’s what it is.
What it’s been.
And it’s the only way he could think to tell her that every note he hits will be for her, every word he sings coming straight from the heart (he remembers exactly where it is, where she placed his hand, all those months ago).
64. Also, a nice touch: the bottom of his pants aren’t tailored. They’re sort of bunched up. It’s exactly how a teenage boy who is too tall would end up. I don’t know if they meant to do that, but it’s sort of perfect.
65. So, Finn tells Rachel he loves her. And I scream, and the friend I watched this with screams, and Y’ALL. I mean, could this be ANY FREAKING BETTER?! No. It could not.
66. I mean, the intent with which he walks over there, the way he sort of looks away right before he says it, like he’s borrowing some courage from the air, the little smirk he makes after he says it, and HER FACE. I mean, seriously, she’s about to cry, or laugh, or both, and UGH. THIS SHOW. When it gets it right, it gets it SO right.
67. The music starts, and they look at each other, and it’s not about the performance, or the competition, or anything but them. For once, finally, it’s just about them. All they have to do is sing to one another.
68. And then they do.
69. And it is AMAZING.
70. “Right down the line it’s been you and me.” And you know, it has. Because without the two of them, the whole thing would fall apart. You need her bossiness. You need his sort-of dopey good-naturedness. You need them to care.
71. Also, TV again just ruins me, because now, short of Finn Hudson singing “Faithfully” to me in a crowded auditorium, I’m just never going to be pleased.
72. And this SONG, when you know what he’s just said…I feel like such a dorky kid. God. Then, at the end, he takes her hand, and I’m serious, when I said that Finn Hudson is That Guy, I really wasn’t kidding.
73. Then, we lead into the BEST MASHUP EVER. If you haven’t seen the concert videos, go to youtube, like, NOW. If you actually got to see the concert…I hate you. Pretty much.
74. Also, how much does Journey have to freaking love this show? How much money do you think they’ve made off of this? I listen to the BBC Top 40 Countdown on XM if I have to drive on Sunday afternoons, and “Don’t Stop Believin’” (the original) hopped right into the top 10 when Glee started showing regularly in England. I mean, they must just be raking money in, with absolutely no effort whatsoever.
75. “Then we touched, and then we sang, about the lovin’ things” And I die in little girl puddles…again.
76. Also, Brittany, could you be more fierce when you dance? Love you.
77. In the audience, Quinn’s bitch mom shows up. I’m saying, Quinn’s bitch mom, you might have come through in the end, but your baby’s been going through complete and total hell, and you were AWOL. That’s some bullshit, and I feel absolutely no sympathy or pain or really anything for you but disgust. In the words of Harry Potter: “Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless they have to.”
78. Then they go into “Don’ Stop,” and I’m pretty much in tears, because they take it back to the original six. I love the Regionals version, because of the broken up solos. Mr. Schue, we see, is backstage, and I’m telling you, I know that feeling, too, when you’re watching your kids out there, and you know that they are PERFECT. Fuck the judges, fuck the other teams, your kids are the most amazing things you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been prouder of anything or anyone in your entire life.
79. After they finish, the club is so amped they don’t know what to do with themselves. They hop and skip down the stairs, and Rachel declares that they will win, no doubt in her mind. I call this aftereffect “litigation high” when I’ve walked out of competition, and now, when I walk out of court. I have never done drugs, but I swear, this is much better.
80. Quinn’s mom stops her as she’s about to head back in the dressing room. Kurt and Santana look at the woman like she’s got leprosy. It turns out that Quinn’s dad was hittin’ it with a “tattooed freak,” and that his ass has been unceremoniously kicked the hell out. Well, that’s at start, at least, Quinn’s Bitch Mother (now at proper noun status!). While her mom tries to apologize - “We could turn the guestroom into a nursery” - Quinn’s water breaks, because Glee is nothing if not entirely dramatic.
81. The next performance is from Vocal Adrenaline - they’ve decided on “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and Jesse is, of course, the star. He’s got a pretty pissed off look on his face the whole time, and we later learn that it’s because Rachel is watching. He’s got something to prove to her, and to be honest, I’m not sure why. Apparently, “Funk” was originally supposed to air before “Theatricality.” Fox thought the Lady Gaga Gaga-ness of “Theatricality” would play better after the finale of American Idol. There were Jesse scenes in that episode, that perhaps would have made things more clear, but they were cut. So there you are. I’m not entirely sure how we went from Jesse saying to Ms. Corcoran, “I like her, and I don’t want her to get hurt” to his putting egg on her face and singing angrily at her at Regionals. I hope it’s cleared up it he deleted scenes.
82. Either way? I’m going to guess it might have something to do with Finn. Or maybe I’m just hoping that.
83. At the hospital, Quinn is in labor. The entire club (except Rachel) is there. When the time comes for Quinn, Puck, and her mom to break from the group, Quinn reaches back for one person - Mercedes.
84. And I become a blubbering mess.
85. The intercut between Jesse’s brilliant (but, ultimately, heartless - Rachel is right about this) performance and Quinn’s heartbreaking birth scene is, I swear, some of the best tv I’ve ever seen in my life. The spectacle of Vocal Adrenalin’s performance, which is truly beautifully choreographed, still pales in comparison to Quinn’s screams of pain, and Puck’s looks of anguish, fear, and ultimately, wonder. Jesse sings, “Nothing really matters to me.” And you know for a fact that it doesn’t. He’s an egotist, who, in the end, only cares about his success. In that moment, you realize the differences between he and Rachel, and the differences between everyone and Quinn, who went from a complete egoist to a real, honest to God person.
86. WELL FUCKING DONE.
87. Also, Newsweek? Saying that Jonathan Groff was “too gay to play straight”? Um, fuck you. Yeah. Fuck you. Because he has executed some high level straight boy douchebaggary. Maybe you were never fucked around by a teenage boy, Newsweek, but as someone who knows all about them, I’m telling you: Jonathan Groff sold it.
88. Also, also: fans who are all “well, if Cory’s voice was as good as Jesse’s, then New Directions would be able to do this song instead.” I think you people are missing the point. The point about Finn is not that he’s the greatest singer in history, or that he even wants to be. He’s just a guy, you know, who has a nice voice, and a lot of heart, and he can be captain of the football team and male lead of the glee club if he wants to. Cory Monteith is not the best singer in the world. But really, he’s got a nice voice that makes me all girly. Lea Michele can blow down mountains. They only need one person to do that (and as it turns out, they’ve got two, because Amber Riley? I mean, are you kidding me? She’s amazing). So, there’s that.
89. At the competition, Rachel lays it down, one last time for HER bitch mother, telling her, hey, you know we beat you. I mean, you were good, but we had a lot of heart. And the fact that heart matters to Rachel, that she cares more about that now than precision or perfection, that says a whole lot about her growth as a character over the course of the season. She practically begs Ms. Corcoran, please, be a mom to me, just a little bit…but no. Again, Ms. Corcoran tells her that she can’t.
90. Look, I don’t know how people feel about this, but I really think this woman is sort of awful. Not because she had a child and gave her up. Lots of people do that, and they have very good reasons, and it does not make them bad people. A lot of times, it is the result of a bad situation, and the choice is never easy (just see Quinn, later). I don’t like Ms. Corcoran because she forced Rachel into a position where she was bound to meet her, then ditched her entirely. If she was going to get Rachel to find her, then she should have been willing to give her SOMETHING. I realize that this is probably emotionally difficult for Ms. Corcoran, but seriously, she’s supposed to be the adult. It might be difficult to know that Rachel is almost grown up, but Rachel…all she can feel is ditched. By her MOTHER. Who I am sure she dreamed and dreamed about one day meeting. The whole thing feels terribly cruel, and pretty damned selfish. She tells Rachel that she needs a family, and there’s Rachel, ASKING to be her family, and…nothing. What a load of suck.
91. “Newton-John, you’re dead to me.” Thank you, Sue, for bringing back the funny, because, I’ve got to be honest, this Rachel/Shelby thing is a downer.
92. Sue marches into the Judges’ room, ready to destroy New Directions.
93. And then, ladies and gents, the Grinch’s heart grew by three sizes.
94. Olivia Newton-John divas out ENTIRELY. Might I remind you, Olivia, that you were in Xanadu? That should be enough to shut anyone up.
95. Josh Groban, for his part, really did seem to like New Directions. I guess that his mind was changed? Because I would think if he voted them first, and Sue did, that they would come out on top, or at least in second, even if the other two judges voted them in third place.
96. The judges eventually gang up on Sue, saying that she’s not really a celebrity. Sue, finally feeling some affection for the kids, stands up for them. “Not all kids are afforded the same opportunities as others.” As we learned in “Funk,” Sue does actually love her kids. She does. She wants them to win, and not just for her.
97. We also have some very excellent moments of quotage: “When Josh Groban was their age, he was already in the Mickey Mouse club. Or something.” And, my personal favorite, “Kiss my ass, Josh Groban!”
98. In the end, we know our kids are fucked, and I HATE it. Aural Intensity gets second place. Rachel and Jesse look at one another, having an ego-off. Rachel and Artie are holding hands like they might break.
99. And it feels like breaking.
It feels like….
And you don’t breathe, for a second, because it wasn’t supposed to go like this. It wasn’t supposed to end.
Not now.
Now feels far too soon.
You wish everyone wouldn’t look at you, but they do because they know you will cry. People have an odd feeling to watch someone break apart, the same instinct that causes them to slow down at car wrecks. You feel ashamed of the tears in your eyes. You don’t want them to see, so you swallow, and you breathe through.
You lost. You lost, and you knew you shouldn’t. Every single part of your being tells you that things should have been better than this. You were the team who worked so hard. You all worked so hard.
And you had the most heart. You know that you did. More than anyone else ever, ever could have.
Didn’t they tell you that if you had enough heart, if you really tried, that all the good things would come? That you would overcome the beginning and find the happy ending?
So you stand there, with a small trophy that means you lost, and you try to figure out how this could be over, when it was only just beginning.
100. (Hey, Glee kids? If your journey ends up anything like mine, you TOTALLY end up winning, and when it counts the most. You’ll get there. It’s just not your time. Yet.)
101. At the hospital, Puck and Quinn look at baby Beth. Quinn says that she doesn’t want to keep the baby. It’s got to be the toughest thing in the world for her to say, but she knows that she’s not ready for this, and that he’s not ready for this, and that this child needs someone who is ready. She asks Puck the same question. He doesn’t respond, but you know that he wants to say yes, that he wants to keep that baby, even if he doesn’t have a clue how. She asks if he loved her. He says that he does, especially now, and dammit, he’s got a really nice smile. Maybe, when they’re teenagers again, Puck and Quinn might be able to work something out.
102. Ms. Corcoran swoops in like a vulture, and I’m still pretty fucking pissed at her, so there you are.
103. At McKinley, Emma is letting Figgins HAVE IT, and I’m so glad that someone finally is. Fucking right, Emma! Give him hell! Will sees the screaming, and asks her what’s up. Emma - whose cardigan is cute, I’m saying - squeals that Sue cheated! It’s not fair! There are things worth fighting for! This all culminates in Will’s bringing it back around, and finally saying what Finn had the courage to say before he did - that he’s in love with this woman, even if it’s sort of a bad idea probably. Then, Will kisses her, I mean KISSES her, the way a woman (and not a girl) wants to be kissed. I read that the director told Matthew Morrison to kiss her on the fly, and Jayma Mays had no clue, so her entire reaction is real.
104. I’m telling you, if Matthew Morrison kissed me like that, I’d be wrapping my entire person around him, but I guess Jayma Mays has far more restraint?
105. Rachel shows up, wearing something that actually looks normal for a change. I’m guessing all the crying made her not so inclined towards brightness? She tells Mr. Schue that they need him in the auditorium (since Mock UN or whatever already has the choir room).
106. Emma stands there, stunned. Because Will just kissed her. And he hasn’t just left his wife this time.
107. In the auditorium, the kids all pretty much turn me to a crying mess. Matt says he was just a jock before this. Tina had a stutter. Mercedes was a closeted diva. Quinn was captain of the Cheerios. Mike only ever danced in his bedroom. Santana and Brittany hated everyone here (and the impression is that now, they really, really don’t. And again, Brittany looks sad, and teddy bears everywhere are weeping). Kurt - okay, Kurt, I love you (except for when you’re being sort of an ass, but we don’t have time for that right now), but what the fuck is on your head, you are not trying out for “South Pacific” after this, are you - was not honest about who he was. Puck was tossing kids into dumpsters. Artie had never kissed a girl before (what up, Artie/Tina!). Rachel was constantly getting slushied in the face.
108. And Finn.
109. OH, FINN.
110. You…Finn.
111. Finn never had a father (and he sort of stumbles over it, like he’s afraid to say it, like saying it is too much, because he’s a guy, and maybe he’s not supposed to, but he does it, anyway). Someone to look up to. Someone to model himself after. Someone who could show him what it really meant to be a man.
112. TEARS.
113. Rachel: “We don’t care what the judges say. We won. Because we had you as a teacher.” Mercedes: “Glee Club will never end, Mr. Schue, because you are Glee Club. And you’re in all of us, now.”
114. You know, that’s pretty much everything I think a teacher might ever want to hear. That they’ve had that kind of effect. I think, that when my above-referenced adopted little brother told me that he wrote his med school essay about me and my ex-boyfriend…I mean, that’s what it’s got to feel like to have someone sing “To Sir, With Love” to you and mean it. The idea that someone looks up to you that much…well, it comes back around: Being part of something makes you special. Being part of something special makes you realize that you are special.
115. Making someone realize that they are special makes you feel pretty damned special, too. Maybe in the best way possible.
116. If you didn’t cry during “To Sir, With Love,” your heart is a lump of coal. Seriously. It’s that moving. And beautifully arranged.
117. And in the back of the auditorium, Sue can’t even help herself - she’s crying along with the rest of the world.
118. “It’s as barren as me in here, Will.” Sue marches into the choir room, all swagger. She’s not entirely giving Will shit about the glee club disbandment - he mostly just thinks she is. Will gets fired up…and all I can see are his arms. Seriously. Matthew Morrison, your arms are, like, AMAZING. I just…amazing. I can’t even…AMAZING.
119. Sue goes on about the anonymity of voting, as we learn that she, of course, voted New Directions in First Place. Incidentally, she also put Vocal Adrenaline in third, and I have to think that’s because they didn’t have any heart. At least, that’s what I’m going to believe.
120. Her entire quote about “pink, inflamed monkey butts” pretty much made my life. Seriously. No wonder Jane Lynch loves these writers so much.
121. She ribs him, drags it out, but in the end, she’s gotten Glee Club another year. And why? “You’re a good teacher, Will. And I don’t like you so much, but I admire you, and the work you’re doing with your kids. I really do.”
122. Look, an actress less than Lynch? Probably wouldn’t have been able to make that turn believable. But she does. I know there’s some chatter out there, that Sue finding her heart of gold doesn’t make sense, but I think they’ve told us all year long: Sue is redeemable. I think they really sent that message home in “Funk,” when Will told her, “You love your kids,” and she didn’t even come close to denying it. I think that for all the shit she gives Will, she does respect him. She wouldn’t spend so much time giving him shit if she didn’t; that’s like, the First Tenant of Shit Giving.
123. “I appreciate what you’re doing for these kids. I won’t forget it.” “I’m seriously going to puke in your mouth.”
124. God, I love this show.
125. In the choir room, the saddest-looking group of people in history just sit there and look…sad. Except Finn a little bit? He and Rachel are sort of snuggly, and he’s got his dopey boy face on.
126. I again reiterate: Thank God Cory Monteith is 27, or I would be in jail.
127. The kids rejoice that they’ve got another year. Rachel goes into overdrive, of course, and I am reminded of that overly excited mock trial captain who I dated for five years. He was that type of person, I guess is that type of person, who can just be inappropriately excited in the wrong direction. He’s a good guy, bless his heart.
128. Mr. Schue, now with a year of simmering her down, defuses the Rachel Berry Bomb in about 2 seconds flat, tells the kids to enjoy their summer. He and Puck go through a very pretty rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” This, apparently, was Matthew Morrison’s tryout song for the show.
129. We see the kids looking at one another. Quinn reaches for Mercedes’s hand, and Kurt holds them both; Brittany and Santana do their pinky holding thing; Mike and Matt blow up a fist bump; Artie and Tina look at one another; Rachel puts her head on Finn’s shoulder (she’s already holding his hand). We cut to the hospital, and Shelby has apparently adopted Beth. My friend and I called this. I, honestly, am still pissed at this woman, because she’s willing to love this baby, because it’s a baby, but not Rachel, who is practically begging, and who she went after to begin with. She could have left Rachel alone, and…well, anyway. She’s got Beth. And I think she’ll be good to her, so that’s nice, but I don’t think I feel about it the way that the writers want me to.
130. (And I really do like that Puck names the baby. There’s something nice in that.)
131. It’s a nice ending, but after “To Sir, With Love,” it’s hard for something to follow that, emotional gravity-wise.
132. However, overall, I freaking LOVED this finale. The Journey Medley was out of this world. Bohemian Rhapsody was excellent. To Sir, With Love can pretty much make me cry at any point ever. I think there was actual magic in the two minutes from when we first see Finn and Rachel backstage through all of “Faithfully,” the same way there was when Rachel did “Don’t Rain on My Parade” in “Sectionals.”
133. I know nothing about next season except for (A) who is playing Emma’s boyfriend and (B) I want it in my life, like, yesterday. Watching Rachel/Finn play out is going to be interesting, because I think we’ll see them together for a few episodes, and then it’ll get to that “hey, we might have sex” part, and then Finn’s going to tell Rachel that he really did have sex with Santana…and BOOM. EXPLOSION. I want to see what they do with Quinn, because I really like her now, and I hope they don’t just forget entirely that she went through this whole baby thing. And I hope they don’t forget that Puck went through it, too. I’d love to see Mercedes and Kurt get love interests. I’d love to see Tina get a solo. I’d love to see Will and Emma start to make sense again.
134. Most of all, I’d love to see Jesse St. James come back for some purpose (yes, I know he’s a senior, and graduating), and fucking GET HIS. At the hands of Finn. I want Finn to own him, on some level, because I think that’s the only way I’ll be satisfied. That smug bastard deserves it. (And I also sort of love Jonathan Groff. I’m saying.)
So, thoughts, comments? Thanks for indulging this tangent from our regularly-scheduled programming. I promise to get back to our Great Matter sometime soon, work permitting. But this was hella fun. Because this show is about That Thing. And I hope it never loses sight of that.
Just because you were willing to take a chance.
A chance on yourself.
A chance on other people.
I played sports in high school, and I was bad at it, but it was the thing I didn’t have to be good at, so I didn’t mind. I was usually in charge of some dorky thing or another, and being in charge…well, that’s different. Being in charge isn’t taking a chance. Being in charge is being the best (because you make the rules), and there’s no risk in that.
So in college, I did this dorky thing called mock trial. And look, I was terrible. I was on a team that was terrible. And the captain of the team - he was this real son of a bitch, and probably the biggest nerd on the planet - he just kept pushing us and pushing us, and I was going through some stuff, some breakup stuff, and I may or may not have led a quiet mutiny against him….
And then.
Well.
About two weeks before our regionals competition, I realized, you know, why are you being such a bitch?
Part of it?
Was because I was bad at something. I was BAD. And I was afraid of being bad, I was afraid of saying, “I didn’t know,” I was afraid of saying, “Please teach me.”
(I also ended up dating that guy for five years after that. I’m sure that was a contributing factor.)
There wasn’t enough time to salvage that year. We were still bad, and we lost at regionals, but damn if it wasn’t one the best things that ever happened to me. Because the next year, I started saying, “I don’t know,” and “Please teach me,” and it turns out that I was actually pretty good at this stuff.
My team just missed out on winning regionals outright and going to nationals. Four of us rode back in a car together, and cried, and it was pitiful. Three of us were seniors, and one was a freshman, and he’s this kid that I sort of ended up adopting. He would show up and eat all the food in my apartment and sleep on my couch and call me when he was drunk, but I never minded, because there are just some people who you’re going to love the hell out of, if you get the chance to know them.
I still got to go to nationals that year; our school had earned a bid, and we put together the best team we could, to no avail. After that, I went to law school at the same university, and I coached, and watched kids go from bad to brilliant, and knew that I had a hand in it.
The freshman eventually became a senior. He’s going to medical school next year, and when he wrote his application essay, he wrote about his first year of mock trial, and me, and my boyfriend, and how much he loved us. He texts and calls, and I kid and say, “I’m so proud of my son, the doctor,” but the truth is, it wouldn’t matter if he was my own little brother; I couldn’t be more proud of him.
Here’s what I’m saying: it’s the people that matter. It’s the moments you spend together, getting to know each other, teaching each other, leaning on each other, staying up late, laughing, fighting, flirting. It is, as Mr. Schue says, about the journey. Because you can win as many trophies as there are fake gold stars in the world, but you don’t end up remembering the competitions at all. You remember the way it felt to know you could trust another person with something that, at the time, seemed so precious. You remember the rush.
You remember, most of all, what it was like to be part of something that mattered.
And it’s the most bittersweet feeling in the world.
-
1. Will, adorable, sweet, darling Will, with such wide-eyed optimism that you almost have to wonder if he puts uppers in his coffee in the morning, just because….
2. Here comes Hurricane Sue. As it so happens, Sue’s new celebrity status as Greatest Cheerleading Coach Ever (Kurt Hummel, you’ve got to explain to me one day about the 14 minute Celene Dion tribute) has landed her a spot on the judging panel for - wait for it - the glee club regionals!
3. Okay, this is one of those things that the show is asking us to accept. In reality, there’s no way in hot damn hell that the other schools would let Sue be on the panel. She wouldn’t be asked. Parents would RIOT. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the mess a parent can make over this sort of thing, but the only thing that outstrips it is the fit that can be thrown by a well and put out coach. She never would have even been asked. But, because this is necessary to the plot, you have to let this type of thing go. That’s something about Glee - it operates in its own parody of reality. That’s part of the show. Anyway. Moving on.
4. “I’ve got to be honest, Will. I’m having a hard time hearing anything you’re saying today, because your hair looks like a briar patch. I keep expecting to see racist Disney characters to pop up and start singing songs about livin’ on the bayou.”
5. I can only say that Jane Lynch deserves…pretty much every award ever, because of her ability to say ridiculous things and keep a straight face. I love her. Have loved her since “Best in Show” (which, if you haven’t seen…why the hell are you reading this and not seeing it?).
6. (Also, her delivery of the line, “I am legend. It has happened.” If wish I could some how synthesize that delivery and drink it every morning. That sounded gross.)
7. Also, Principal Figgins? You’re, like, the most spineless person on the planet. Just saying.
8. Then, we hop into our time machines, and go back to…about 8 or so months ago. Quinn and Puck are Quinn and Puck, but not the way we recognize them now. Quinn’s in her Cheerios uniform…and y’all, what’s the thing, on TV, where cheerleaders and football players are always walking around in their uniforms? I understand that, within the paradigm of the show, it makes sense for this to be the case, because the show is (in part) about the labels people assign to themselves, and the way those labels change, and define, and then are redefined themselves. But why is this such a common thing in the media? At my high school, the cheerleaders and football players would wear their uniforms on game days. That was it. Thoughts?
9. Anyway, back in time, Puck is getting Quinn to down wine coolers. She puts up something that resembles a fight, but is really just a lot of things to say to make herself feel better. Rachel said it best, back in “Showmance” (it was “Showmance,” wasn’t it?), “Girls want sex just as bad as guys do.” On a basic level, I believe this is true. Quinn wanted to have sex, maybe with Puck, maybe with Finn, maybe with whomever. This does not make her slutty; this makes her 16. This does not mean that 16-year-old girls (or boys) should be having sex. But to ignore the reality that (a) they want to and (b) some of them are SO going to is (c) stupid.
10. But really, I think the most interesting part of this moment is the things that are different, and the things that are the same. When Puck tells her, “This isn’t just another hook up for me,” I think we’ve been given the evidence to believe that’s true. Puck does care about her. But Puck is 16. Puck’s stupid. That’s is (as stated in #9) part of being 16. If you are 16, and reading this…yes, I called you stupid, but it’s not your fault. I was stupid. I’m still stupid; I’m just slightly more adept at hiding it. You don’t really get any smarter with age; you get less outwardly embarrassing. The show also calls us back to Quinn’s reference that a moment of regret in her life was believing a boy when he said “trust me” about birth control methods. Oh, Quinn. Do you see, people, the trouble that is caused when you don’t give kids the tools to understand safe sex?
11. We flash forward again to Quinn, but this Quinn is very different from the girl who was drinking Bartles & Jaymes with a stuffed lamb looking on while she and Puck get busy (no, really, there’s a stuffed lamb right above her head. I cannot make such a thing up). You know, there are plenty of complaints about places where the show has dropped the ball, development-wise, but I really think the progression of Quinn’s character has been great. I couldn’t stand the bitch; now I love her. And her friendship with Mercedes…I get teary-eyed just thinking about it.
12. In Mr. Schue’s living room, where they are supposed to be having a Regionals song nomination party, the Glee club is in utter despair at the news of Sue’s plans for destruction. Brittany even looks sad, which is like seeing your rubber ducky cry. It’s pitiful. Artie’s big eyes behind his glasses are bordering on red-rimmed, and Tina….
13. OH, TINA.
14. (I love your pink hair, btw! And why the hell haven’t you had your fair share of solos? I’m hoping this is corrected in Season 2.)
15. Tina is crying. And y’all…it’s heartbreaking. She only had two facebook friends before this year - her parents. Mr. Schue looks like that one just punched him right in the gut. She says, echoing Rachel, “Being part of something, it made me special.”
16. Here’s the thing about that. Rachel/Tina is ALMOST right. Being part of something special makes you realize that you ARE special. (And yes, this recap is brought to you by Hallmark.)
17. Tina remarks that when they are destroyed by the evil spite of Sue Sylvester, then it’ll all be over. Finn, in all of his boyish, adorable, “let’s go get ‘em!” wonder, says, “Who says all of this is going to be over?” Because Finn’s at that point, you know? It’s not going to be over for him, not matter what. He’d still be after Rachel, he’d still sing, he’d still be nice, and kind, and friendly to every person in that room. You know why? Because Finn’s That Guy. He’s what That Guy looks like when he’s 16, and he’s figuring out that he might be That Guy.
18. Also, if someone meets That Guy, could you please tell him that he’s lost? I’ve been looking for him since I started watching Dawson’s Creek in 1998. Thanks.
19. Mercedes bring the reality - the cool kids (read: Puck and Santana) aren’t going to hang with them anymore. Brittany probably still would, but that’s because she wouldn’t know better, poor thing. Rachel, instead of being all, “People, I cannot believe your lack of professionalism, pull it together, do you know what Barbara Streisand had to go through, Sue Sylvester is nothing to us,” is crying, and asks that they all just cry and talk about how they love each other.
20. (I’ve done the cry and talk about how much you love each other thing. It’s usually after you lose. When you get older, you don’t do it sober, because you’ve gotten better at being less embarrassing…until you drink. See # 10, above, for more about being less embarrassing.)
21. At McKinley, Will is in Emma’s office-
22. HI, EMMA! Hi, dropped plot for most of the back 9. Hi, Jayma Mays, you are like an adorable bunny or perhaps a deer, and why the fuck you would go off to do the Smurfs while you were in the throes of some really serious possibly will they/won’t they romance on a new hit tv show, I will never know. Because I like you, Emma/Jayma Mays, but you have not become so permanent in my heart that I can’t forget about you and have Will Schuester with someone else.
23. (“Someone else” meaning me, in my bed, like right now, thanks.)
24. Anyway, Will’s in Emma’s office, telling her that it’s just about a miracle that he didn’t start crying along with the kids. Emma, not exactly friendly (I guess she wouldn’t be? After their last encounter? I cannot even begin to approach that mess), asks Will what he’s doing in her office. Well, he’s looking for guidance. He doesn’t know what to do. Emma brings it back to what it’s supposed to be, and dammit, I already feel myself being pulled back in to the Emma/Will love fest, because she’s talking about how Will’s been telling the kids all year, it’s about loving what you’re doing, not winning, and-
25. I’ve got to say this. I’ve just paused the TV, so I can type, and what the HELL is Emma wearing? Why did that white bowtie thing happen? In what realm of life is that okay? And that sweater? WTF?
26. Anyway, Will makes his glow-y, beautiful, “I’m so amazed by you” face, and I melt into a puddle. Emma must feel it, too, because in reaction, she tells Will about Carl, her dentist, who she has been dating.
27. (I don’t want to spoil. So I’ll just say, those of you, who have found out who is playing Carl? PLEASE COMMENT. I do not think I could be more thrilled with this casting decision. COULD NOT.)
28. Will, completely inappropriately, asks if she and Carl have, well, YOU KNOW, which Emma knows is inappropriate, and Will then recognizes is inappropriate, and it SUPER uncomfortable, and-
29. Um.
30. They haven’t.
31. She and Carl.
32. Have not.
33. Had sex.
34. Emma, I guess, just thought Will should know. Since he asked. Maybe she’s just being polite.
35. LIKE HELL! When I first watched the episode, I squealed (for the first of many times)! There is hope, friends!
36. Will’s driving in his car, and there’s this thing with the kids, and this thing with Emma, and how all of this started. He’s thinking about this year, that he was with Terri, and now he’s divorced. He wasn’t even with Emma, but that’s over, and it isn’t. It’s complicated. He built up the club, and the kids, and through them, he rebuilt himself, and it was the greatest thing, the most shining wonderful thing. It was that thing, you know, that thing. That he took a chance on. The thing that might have given him a moment even better than when he competed at Nationals, because if those kids got a chance, it wouldn’t be just his life that he changed. It would be something bigger than just him, and wasn’t that what this was about, and-
37. Dammit, Steve Perry. Just… dammit.
38. Will’s crying, and I’m crying, too. He has stopped his car in the middle of the road, because what else is he supposed to do? That song stops him, right in his tracks, just like it did those months before. He smiles for just a second, and he thinks about the six of them, red T-shirts and jeans, and they sounded wonderful, and he thinks of Finn - Finn, who is so like him, but better, he hopes - and he just breaks. He’s not just crying because of the possibility of the lost chance to win, or what might be lost, but because, he realizes in a rush, the months he’s had with those kids, they are better than any competition he was ever in, any trophy he ever won, and he can’t believe that he didn’t know it until right then. He just can’t believe it.
39. And so he decides. Journey. Of course it’s Journey.
40. Okay, does Lea Michele seriously walk around with her lips all pouty like that all of the time? It seems like it would be really time consuming/tiresome.
41. Finn stops Rachel as she walks down the stairs. Because he’s That Guy, and don’t you think for a second that Rachel hasn’t noticed. He That Guys it up, saying that they had a chance to save it at Mr. Schue’s, and Rachel, it’s up to us, and we’re going to win this thing, and-
42. Really, what else is there for her to do but kiss him? I mean, God, why on earth wouldn’t she? If she didn’t…I cannot fathom who wouldn’t kiss him, when he’s going on like that.
43. And here’s why Cory Monteith is the perfect guy for this role. The look on his face…I mean, THE LOOK ON HIS FACE. Could it be any more perfect? It’s somewhere between befuddled, bewildered, and besotted, and that’s pretty much got to be the permanent residence for anyone who is into Rachel. He has the ability to make the most awesome teenage clueless guy faces on the planet, because he’s just looks so honest.
44. And thank GOD he’s really 27 in real life, or I am certain I would go to jail. Seriously, the guy is 6’4” and built like an oak tree. I ask life for little else.
45. Rachel, for her part, smiles. And it’s a different sort of smile than we usually see. She’s not all self-satisfied and smug, or anything like that. It’s just…nice. I think we’ve only really seen Finn cause it, and ugh, why couldn’t I have had a wonderful boy like this singing through the halls with me, doing a mash up of “Borderline/Open Your Heart”? Where did I go wrong in my adolescence?
46. Rachel and Finn marching to the choir room, ready to rally the troops (Rachel, what the fuck is on the front of that skirt?), but Mr. Schue already has his pitch. I feel like I should walk around life with a quote of the whole thing, because…he really gets it here, you know? When you’ve got your thing? This is what it is, when it’s over, the memory of it. And you sit there, years later, and you say, “Do you remember…oh, what was his name, you know, the guy who always wore that stupid baseball cap?” and you saw him everyday for six months straight, but you can’t remember his name, and it’s not because he wasn’t important, because he was, but his name is a slip of a watch tick, and you’ll get to it, but more ticks will have to go by to remember the more space in time you have from the end….
47. I don’t think that makes a lot of sense to anyone. But there you are.
48. Anyway, this speech: “Life only really has one beginning, and one end, and the rest is just a whole lot of middle.”
49. (And Artie and Tina look at each other, and so do Mercedes and Kurt, and so do Rachel and Finn, who have just kissed, and might have the hardest time thinking that their names won’t always be on the other’s lips, and the thought of what Mr. Schue is saying is a little sad, but they almost can’t even know that, yet. And adults feel jealous of it. I swear they do.)
50. The declaration that they are going to do “Don’t Stop Believin’” reenergizes the group. (And the fact that Rachel refers to it as “Don’t Stop,” I just can’t tell you how much I love that, other than to say that it reminds me of the “Peyton Did It” defense, which is something that my dorky friends and I coined as a nickname for something, and you develop bits and pieces of shorthand language that a few understand…and damn, I didn’t realize just how much I identified with this show, but I really, really do.)
51. Mr. Schue walks into Regionals. I am shocked that he had to have a ticket. Whenever I coached mock trial, I was right there with the kids for a long while, so they could ask me questions, before they had to cross the bar and compete on their own (and there’s something in that, when you coach something like this. You feel the need to separate, give the kids their space, because if you hover too close, it’s like you’re trying to catch a little of their lightning in your own bottle, and that’s not exactly fair, not when you’ve already had your chance at glory, and they haven’t had their full shot at theirs. Maybe that’s why Mr. Schue isn’t with them quite yet? I don’t know.)
52. Can I just say, Matthew Morrison, you look DEADLY in that suit? I’m saying that. Seriously. It is tailored BEAUTIFULLY.
53. It turns out we’ve got a panel of celebrity judges! And we’re not at all shocked to find out who they are! Olivia-Newton John (who an ex-boyfriend of mine saw in concert - and that’s not even the ex who turned out to be gay), Josh Groban (I would SO hit that), the local newscaster weirdo guy (whose name I clearly don’t care to learn), and Sue (who seems to get the loudest cheer? Am I right?). Will claps for each except for Sue, who I’m sure he’d delight in punching in the face.
54. “Ohio’s homegrown iconoclast.” I cannot even deal with that.
55. New Directions hangs out in some kind of ante-room. The Glee Club locker room, if you will. They listen to the (not at all stupidly named) Aural Intensity, who apparently are doing a OLJ/JG mash up.
56. This brings me to another quandary: what the fuck is the set up for this whole deal, anyway? I understand that it goes Sectionals, Regionals, Nationals, but it doesn’t seem like you have to compete against a lot of teams to end up winning, you know? The New York Times had a pretty good post about this: http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/09/dont-start-believin-the-glee-tournament-that-never-was-or-will-be/ (Um, I have actually been in something called an Octogonal. Or was it an Octofinal? I cannot be sure anymore. I told you, memories fade.)
57. Puck’s convinced that they’re set for disaster (he’s really a Donnie Downer, isn’t he?). Rachel and Finn are trying to buck them all up when Mr. Schue walks in and reminds them that they’ve got a secret weapon: Finn’s dancing.
58. Oh, Finn. You are a dancing disaster. And I do love that on set they call him “Frankenteen.”
59. I freaking LOVE these costumes, btw. I would wear those dresses to a fun party. Or maybe a wedding.
60. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
61. Look, I don’t know how people, in general, feel about Rachel/Finn. But personally? I love them. I know that’s a little obvious, to want them to be together, but fuck it. She’s a basket case; he’s…well, he’s a teenage boy, which means he is just dirt dumb, bless his heart. But they both care about this thing, and they care about each other, the best way they know how at this point. I mean, despite the shit, they still care. And they’ve both had their sweet, innocent hearts crushed, but there’s this sort of electricity between them, and it’s everything that teenagers dream about (and what adults dream about, too). So yeah, I love them. They’re adorable.
62. And so it is like this:
You are standing behind the curtain, and there’s a rush. It’s adrenaline, excitement, it is competition.
You will never feel like this again. Not that you won’t feel this same feeling, but it won’t be like this, so fresh, and strong, and new. Later, you will be more practiced, more used to the fear that you’ll learn to run off of, something you are about to convert straight into energy in a jarring way, like a light switching on in a pitch black room. Later, the fear will swim in your stomach, but it won’t reach your veins, it won’t reach your beating heart, because your heart won’t beat so hard, so fast.
(There is something nice in practicing, something that makes things easier, but the afterrush will never be as big as this, and you will find, even when you will live life without the nausea, you will miss it.)
And then, you forget.
You forget the fear, and the nausea, and anything that isn’t his face, because he’s looking at you, and you know he felt all the same things, too, but they don’t matter, this doesn’t matter, none of it matters, because for all the times you’ve had to do things alone, you don’t have to do that anymore.
With him, you are not alone.
With him, you are part of something.
Together, you built what’s on the other side of the curtain.
No performance will ever mean this much. Not nationals, not Broadway, or concerts. None of them. In the life that you will life -and it will be great, you are really that good, and one day, you’ll believe it - there will never be one other performance that will make you feel like this, like you are on fire, and that there is one other person in all the world who knows what that means.
And it’s him.
No matter who you end up with, if you drift apart, if you don’t talk for years (and you logically know all of these things are possible; you are both so young, too young, for this to last forever, even though the deepest part of your soul hopes that it does)-
This part of your heart, and your life, this part of all the fire is just for him, because he’s the only other one who could ever stand the heat.
63. And so it is like this. He thinks - no, he knows - he’s going to throw up. He will puke right on this door, and that’s not going to go well at all, because then his voice will probably be messed up, and Rachel would-
Rachel.
Rachel.
She’s looking at him, and he wonders, briefly, if she felt like this last semester. When she sang “Don’t Rain on My Parade,” and it felt like there was nothing to winning after that, that the entire world was before them, because she made it theirs. She is pushy, and bossy, and mostly pretty terrifying, but-
Rachel.
It’s like a song in his heart, now, even after all of this. He told her, that day in the auditorium, when they kissed (the first time they kissed; he remembers, with a thrill, that there have now been three), that when he first heard her sing, it made him feel something.
She makes him feel something. Something he never felt with Quinn. That he never felt with anybody.
So, she’s looking at him, expectant (and this is not the word that Finn thinks, because he is 16, and he does not know it, yet, or maybe ever, but he feels it). Her hands are on her hair, and he’s forgotten that he wants to throw up, or that he was ever nervous, because-
Rachel.
He walks up to her, and he thinks his heart should be beating so fast, but it’s steady, like her, she’s nuts, but she’s so damned steady, and she says something, but whatever she says, it doesn’t matter, because-
“I love you.”
That’s what it is.
What it’s been.
And it’s the only way he could think to tell her that every note he hits will be for her, every word he sings coming straight from the heart (he remembers exactly where it is, where she placed his hand, all those months ago).
64. Also, a nice touch: the bottom of his pants aren’t tailored. They’re sort of bunched up. It’s exactly how a teenage boy who is too tall would end up. I don’t know if they meant to do that, but it’s sort of perfect.
65. So, Finn tells Rachel he loves her. And I scream, and the friend I watched this with screams, and Y’ALL. I mean, could this be ANY FREAKING BETTER?! No. It could not.
66. I mean, the intent with which he walks over there, the way he sort of looks away right before he says it, like he’s borrowing some courage from the air, the little smirk he makes after he says it, and HER FACE. I mean, seriously, she’s about to cry, or laugh, or both, and UGH. THIS SHOW. When it gets it right, it gets it SO right.
67. The music starts, and they look at each other, and it’s not about the performance, or the competition, or anything but them. For once, finally, it’s just about them. All they have to do is sing to one another.
68. And then they do.
69. And it is AMAZING.
70. “Right down the line it’s been you and me.” And you know, it has. Because without the two of them, the whole thing would fall apart. You need her bossiness. You need his sort-of dopey good-naturedness. You need them to care.
71. Also, TV again just ruins me, because now, short of Finn Hudson singing “Faithfully” to me in a crowded auditorium, I’m just never going to be pleased.
72. And this SONG, when you know what he’s just said…I feel like such a dorky kid. God. Then, at the end, he takes her hand, and I’m serious, when I said that Finn Hudson is That Guy, I really wasn’t kidding.
73. Then, we lead into the BEST MASHUP EVER. If you haven’t seen the concert videos, go to youtube, like, NOW. If you actually got to see the concert…I hate you. Pretty much.
74. Also, how much does Journey have to freaking love this show? How much money do you think they’ve made off of this? I listen to the BBC Top 40 Countdown on XM if I have to drive on Sunday afternoons, and “Don’t Stop Believin’” (the original) hopped right into the top 10 when Glee started showing regularly in England. I mean, they must just be raking money in, with absolutely no effort whatsoever.
75. “Then we touched, and then we sang, about the lovin’ things” And I die in little girl puddles…again.
76. Also, Brittany, could you be more fierce when you dance? Love you.
77. In the audience, Quinn’s bitch mom shows up. I’m saying, Quinn’s bitch mom, you might have come through in the end, but your baby’s been going through complete and total hell, and you were AWOL. That’s some bullshit, and I feel absolutely no sympathy or pain or really anything for you but disgust. In the words of Harry Potter: “Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless they have to.”
78. Then they go into “Don’ Stop,” and I’m pretty much in tears, because they take it back to the original six. I love the Regionals version, because of the broken up solos. Mr. Schue, we see, is backstage, and I’m telling you, I know that feeling, too, when you’re watching your kids out there, and you know that they are PERFECT. Fuck the judges, fuck the other teams, your kids are the most amazing things you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been prouder of anything or anyone in your entire life.
79. After they finish, the club is so amped they don’t know what to do with themselves. They hop and skip down the stairs, and Rachel declares that they will win, no doubt in her mind. I call this aftereffect “litigation high” when I’ve walked out of competition, and now, when I walk out of court. I have never done drugs, but I swear, this is much better.
80. Quinn’s mom stops her as she’s about to head back in the dressing room. Kurt and Santana look at the woman like she’s got leprosy. It turns out that Quinn’s dad was hittin’ it with a “tattooed freak,” and that his ass has been unceremoniously kicked the hell out. Well, that’s at start, at least, Quinn’s Bitch Mother (now at proper noun status!). While her mom tries to apologize - “We could turn the guestroom into a nursery” - Quinn’s water breaks, because Glee is nothing if not entirely dramatic.
81. The next performance is from Vocal Adrenaline - they’ve decided on “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and Jesse is, of course, the star. He’s got a pretty pissed off look on his face the whole time, and we later learn that it’s because Rachel is watching. He’s got something to prove to her, and to be honest, I’m not sure why. Apparently, “Funk” was originally supposed to air before “Theatricality.” Fox thought the Lady Gaga Gaga-ness of “Theatricality” would play better after the finale of American Idol. There were Jesse scenes in that episode, that perhaps would have made things more clear, but they were cut. So there you are. I’m not entirely sure how we went from Jesse saying to Ms. Corcoran, “I like her, and I don’t want her to get hurt” to his putting egg on her face and singing angrily at her at Regionals. I hope it’s cleared up it he deleted scenes.
82. Either way? I’m going to guess it might have something to do with Finn. Or maybe I’m just hoping that.
83. At the hospital, Quinn is in labor. The entire club (except Rachel) is there. When the time comes for Quinn, Puck, and her mom to break from the group, Quinn reaches back for one person - Mercedes.
84. And I become a blubbering mess.
85. The intercut between Jesse’s brilliant (but, ultimately, heartless - Rachel is right about this) performance and Quinn’s heartbreaking birth scene is, I swear, some of the best tv I’ve ever seen in my life. The spectacle of Vocal Adrenalin’s performance, which is truly beautifully choreographed, still pales in comparison to Quinn’s screams of pain, and Puck’s looks of anguish, fear, and ultimately, wonder. Jesse sings, “Nothing really matters to me.” And you know for a fact that it doesn’t. He’s an egotist, who, in the end, only cares about his success. In that moment, you realize the differences between he and Rachel, and the differences between everyone and Quinn, who went from a complete egoist to a real, honest to God person.
86. WELL FUCKING DONE.
87. Also, Newsweek? Saying that Jonathan Groff was “too gay to play straight”? Um, fuck you. Yeah. Fuck you. Because he has executed some high level straight boy douchebaggary. Maybe you were never fucked around by a teenage boy, Newsweek, but as someone who knows all about them, I’m telling you: Jonathan Groff sold it.
88. Also, also: fans who are all “well, if Cory’s voice was as good as Jesse’s, then New Directions would be able to do this song instead.” I think you people are missing the point. The point about Finn is not that he’s the greatest singer in history, or that he even wants to be. He’s just a guy, you know, who has a nice voice, and a lot of heart, and he can be captain of the football team and male lead of the glee club if he wants to. Cory Monteith is not the best singer in the world. But really, he’s got a nice voice that makes me all girly. Lea Michele can blow down mountains. They only need one person to do that (and as it turns out, they’ve got two, because Amber Riley? I mean, are you kidding me? She’s amazing). So, there’s that.
89. At the competition, Rachel lays it down, one last time for HER bitch mother, telling her, hey, you know we beat you. I mean, you were good, but we had a lot of heart. And the fact that heart matters to Rachel, that she cares more about that now than precision or perfection, that says a whole lot about her growth as a character over the course of the season. She practically begs Ms. Corcoran, please, be a mom to me, just a little bit…but no. Again, Ms. Corcoran tells her that she can’t.
90. Look, I don’t know how people feel about this, but I really think this woman is sort of awful. Not because she had a child and gave her up. Lots of people do that, and they have very good reasons, and it does not make them bad people. A lot of times, it is the result of a bad situation, and the choice is never easy (just see Quinn, later). I don’t like Ms. Corcoran because she forced Rachel into a position where she was bound to meet her, then ditched her entirely. If she was going to get Rachel to find her, then she should have been willing to give her SOMETHING. I realize that this is probably emotionally difficult for Ms. Corcoran, but seriously, she’s supposed to be the adult. It might be difficult to know that Rachel is almost grown up, but Rachel…all she can feel is ditched. By her MOTHER. Who I am sure she dreamed and dreamed about one day meeting. The whole thing feels terribly cruel, and pretty damned selfish. She tells Rachel that she needs a family, and there’s Rachel, ASKING to be her family, and…nothing. What a load of suck.
91. “Newton-John, you’re dead to me.” Thank you, Sue, for bringing back the funny, because, I’ve got to be honest, this Rachel/Shelby thing is a downer.
92. Sue marches into the Judges’ room, ready to destroy New Directions.
93. And then, ladies and gents, the Grinch’s heart grew by three sizes.
94. Olivia Newton-John divas out ENTIRELY. Might I remind you, Olivia, that you were in Xanadu? That should be enough to shut anyone up.
95. Josh Groban, for his part, really did seem to like New Directions. I guess that his mind was changed? Because I would think if he voted them first, and Sue did, that they would come out on top, or at least in second, even if the other two judges voted them in third place.
96. The judges eventually gang up on Sue, saying that she’s not really a celebrity. Sue, finally feeling some affection for the kids, stands up for them. “Not all kids are afforded the same opportunities as others.” As we learned in “Funk,” Sue does actually love her kids. She does. She wants them to win, and not just for her.
97. We also have some very excellent moments of quotage: “When Josh Groban was their age, he was already in the Mickey Mouse club. Or something.” And, my personal favorite, “Kiss my ass, Josh Groban!”
98. In the end, we know our kids are fucked, and I HATE it. Aural Intensity gets second place. Rachel and Jesse look at one another, having an ego-off. Rachel and Artie are holding hands like they might break.
99. And it feels like breaking.
It feels like….
And you don’t breathe, for a second, because it wasn’t supposed to go like this. It wasn’t supposed to end.
Not now.
Now feels far too soon.
You wish everyone wouldn’t look at you, but they do because they know you will cry. People have an odd feeling to watch someone break apart, the same instinct that causes them to slow down at car wrecks. You feel ashamed of the tears in your eyes. You don’t want them to see, so you swallow, and you breathe through.
You lost. You lost, and you knew you shouldn’t. Every single part of your being tells you that things should have been better than this. You were the team who worked so hard. You all worked so hard.
And you had the most heart. You know that you did. More than anyone else ever, ever could have.
Didn’t they tell you that if you had enough heart, if you really tried, that all the good things would come? That you would overcome the beginning and find the happy ending?
So you stand there, with a small trophy that means you lost, and you try to figure out how this could be over, when it was only just beginning.
100. (Hey, Glee kids? If your journey ends up anything like mine, you TOTALLY end up winning, and when it counts the most. You’ll get there. It’s just not your time. Yet.)
101. At the hospital, Puck and Quinn look at baby Beth. Quinn says that she doesn’t want to keep the baby. It’s got to be the toughest thing in the world for her to say, but she knows that she’s not ready for this, and that he’s not ready for this, and that this child needs someone who is ready. She asks Puck the same question. He doesn’t respond, but you know that he wants to say yes, that he wants to keep that baby, even if he doesn’t have a clue how. She asks if he loved her. He says that he does, especially now, and dammit, he’s got a really nice smile. Maybe, when they’re teenagers again, Puck and Quinn might be able to work something out.
102. Ms. Corcoran swoops in like a vulture, and I’m still pretty fucking pissed at her, so there you are.
103. At McKinley, Emma is letting Figgins HAVE IT, and I’m so glad that someone finally is. Fucking right, Emma! Give him hell! Will sees the screaming, and asks her what’s up. Emma - whose cardigan is cute, I’m saying - squeals that Sue cheated! It’s not fair! There are things worth fighting for! This all culminates in Will’s bringing it back around, and finally saying what Finn had the courage to say before he did - that he’s in love with this woman, even if it’s sort of a bad idea probably. Then, Will kisses her, I mean KISSES her, the way a woman (and not a girl) wants to be kissed. I read that the director told Matthew Morrison to kiss her on the fly, and Jayma Mays had no clue, so her entire reaction is real.
104. I’m telling you, if Matthew Morrison kissed me like that, I’d be wrapping my entire person around him, but I guess Jayma Mays has far more restraint?
105. Rachel shows up, wearing something that actually looks normal for a change. I’m guessing all the crying made her not so inclined towards brightness? She tells Mr. Schue that they need him in the auditorium (since Mock UN or whatever already has the choir room).
106. Emma stands there, stunned. Because Will just kissed her. And he hasn’t just left his wife this time.
107. In the auditorium, the kids all pretty much turn me to a crying mess. Matt says he was just a jock before this. Tina had a stutter. Mercedes was a closeted diva. Quinn was captain of the Cheerios. Mike only ever danced in his bedroom. Santana and Brittany hated everyone here (and the impression is that now, they really, really don’t. And again, Brittany looks sad, and teddy bears everywhere are weeping). Kurt - okay, Kurt, I love you (except for when you’re being sort of an ass, but we don’t have time for that right now), but what the fuck is on your head, you are not trying out for “South Pacific” after this, are you - was not honest about who he was. Puck was tossing kids into dumpsters. Artie had never kissed a girl before (what up, Artie/Tina!). Rachel was constantly getting slushied in the face.
108. And Finn.
109. OH, FINN.
110. You…Finn.
111. Finn never had a father (and he sort of stumbles over it, like he’s afraid to say it, like saying it is too much, because he’s a guy, and maybe he’s not supposed to, but he does it, anyway). Someone to look up to. Someone to model himself after. Someone who could show him what it really meant to be a man.
112. TEARS.
113. Rachel: “We don’t care what the judges say. We won. Because we had you as a teacher.” Mercedes: “Glee Club will never end, Mr. Schue, because you are Glee Club. And you’re in all of us, now.”
114. You know, that’s pretty much everything I think a teacher might ever want to hear. That they’ve had that kind of effect. I think, that when my above-referenced adopted little brother told me that he wrote his med school essay about me and my ex-boyfriend…I mean, that’s what it’s got to feel like to have someone sing “To Sir, With Love” to you and mean it. The idea that someone looks up to you that much…well, it comes back around: Being part of something makes you special. Being part of something special makes you realize that you are special.
115. Making someone realize that they are special makes you feel pretty damned special, too. Maybe in the best way possible.
116. If you didn’t cry during “To Sir, With Love,” your heart is a lump of coal. Seriously. It’s that moving. And beautifully arranged.
117. And in the back of the auditorium, Sue can’t even help herself - she’s crying along with the rest of the world.
118. “It’s as barren as me in here, Will.” Sue marches into the choir room, all swagger. She’s not entirely giving Will shit about the glee club disbandment - he mostly just thinks she is. Will gets fired up…and all I can see are his arms. Seriously. Matthew Morrison, your arms are, like, AMAZING. I just…amazing. I can’t even…AMAZING.
119. Sue goes on about the anonymity of voting, as we learn that she, of course, voted New Directions in First Place. Incidentally, she also put Vocal Adrenaline in third, and I have to think that’s because they didn’t have any heart. At least, that’s what I’m going to believe.
120. Her entire quote about “pink, inflamed monkey butts” pretty much made my life. Seriously. No wonder Jane Lynch loves these writers so much.
121. She ribs him, drags it out, but in the end, she’s gotten Glee Club another year. And why? “You’re a good teacher, Will. And I don’t like you so much, but I admire you, and the work you’re doing with your kids. I really do.”
122. Look, an actress less than Lynch? Probably wouldn’t have been able to make that turn believable. But she does. I know there’s some chatter out there, that Sue finding her heart of gold doesn’t make sense, but I think they’ve told us all year long: Sue is redeemable. I think they really sent that message home in “Funk,” when Will told her, “You love your kids,” and she didn’t even come close to denying it. I think that for all the shit she gives Will, she does respect him. She wouldn’t spend so much time giving him shit if she didn’t; that’s like, the First Tenant of Shit Giving.
123. “I appreciate what you’re doing for these kids. I won’t forget it.” “I’m seriously going to puke in your mouth.”
124. God, I love this show.
125. In the choir room, the saddest-looking group of people in history just sit there and look…sad. Except Finn a little bit? He and Rachel are sort of snuggly, and he’s got his dopey boy face on.
126. I again reiterate: Thank God Cory Monteith is 27, or I would be in jail.
127. The kids rejoice that they’ve got another year. Rachel goes into overdrive, of course, and I am reminded of that overly excited mock trial captain who I dated for five years. He was that type of person, I guess is that type of person, who can just be inappropriately excited in the wrong direction. He’s a good guy, bless his heart.
128. Mr. Schue, now with a year of simmering her down, defuses the Rachel Berry Bomb in about 2 seconds flat, tells the kids to enjoy their summer. He and Puck go through a very pretty rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” This, apparently, was Matthew Morrison’s tryout song for the show.
129. We see the kids looking at one another. Quinn reaches for Mercedes’s hand, and Kurt holds them both; Brittany and Santana do their pinky holding thing; Mike and Matt blow up a fist bump; Artie and Tina look at one another; Rachel puts her head on Finn’s shoulder (she’s already holding his hand). We cut to the hospital, and Shelby has apparently adopted Beth. My friend and I called this. I, honestly, am still pissed at this woman, because she’s willing to love this baby, because it’s a baby, but not Rachel, who is practically begging, and who she went after to begin with. She could have left Rachel alone, and…well, anyway. She’s got Beth. And I think she’ll be good to her, so that’s nice, but I don’t think I feel about it the way that the writers want me to.
130. (And I really do like that Puck names the baby. There’s something nice in that.)
131. It’s a nice ending, but after “To Sir, With Love,” it’s hard for something to follow that, emotional gravity-wise.
132. However, overall, I freaking LOVED this finale. The Journey Medley was out of this world. Bohemian Rhapsody was excellent. To Sir, With Love can pretty much make me cry at any point ever. I think there was actual magic in the two minutes from when we first see Finn and Rachel backstage through all of “Faithfully,” the same way there was when Rachel did “Don’t Rain on My Parade” in “Sectionals.”
133. I know nothing about next season except for (A) who is playing Emma’s boyfriend and (B) I want it in my life, like, yesterday. Watching Rachel/Finn play out is going to be interesting, because I think we’ll see them together for a few episodes, and then it’ll get to that “hey, we might have sex” part, and then Finn’s going to tell Rachel that he really did have sex with Santana…and BOOM. EXPLOSION. I want to see what they do with Quinn, because I really like her now, and I hope they don’t just forget entirely that she went through this whole baby thing. And I hope they don’t forget that Puck went through it, too. I’d love to see Mercedes and Kurt get love interests. I’d love to see Tina get a solo. I’d love to see Will and Emma start to make sense again.
134. Most of all, I’d love to see Jesse St. James come back for some purpose (yes, I know he’s a senior, and graduating), and fucking GET HIS. At the hands of Finn. I want Finn to own him, on some level, because I think that’s the only way I’ll be satisfied. That smug bastard deserves it. (And I also sort of love Jonathan Groff. I’m saying.)
So, thoughts, comments? Thanks for indulging this tangent from our regularly-scheduled programming. I promise to get back to our Great Matter sometime soon, work permitting. But this was hella fun. Because this show is about That Thing. And I hope it never loses sight of that.