Life As I Know It

I’m a fan of Freud. Not in the “I agree with everything he says” way. No, he’s a crack head, sorry. I’m a fan in the way that I find psychology interesting. Someone once told me it was probably because I’m so fucked in the head myself. Not the point.

I’ve come up with a new complex, hence the title. Damn, that kind of gives it away. I’m changing the title before I post so it doesn’t. So behold, the Gilmore Girl Complex!

Hear me out. I have spent the last…fifteen hours and forty-five minutes (the … was me using the calculator on my computer and it wasn’t all together, more like half yesterday, half today) of my life watching season one of Gilmore Girls. “Why?” you may ask. I have a list of many reasons:

1. I have a soft spot for Luke in the first season (the whole lumberjack thing just woos me…that and I just fucking LOVE plaid)
2. The line “Because I love you, you idiot!” is seriously too adorable and come on, the scene when he’s all “You’re with Tristan” and she’s all “No I’m not!” and he’s all “I’m leaving!” and she says that then he runs to her and makes out with her in the courtyard of the private school. Come on, it’s something I just can’t pass up.
3. My Asian friend left me stranded to fight life on my own for two weeks and I miss her. She used to look like Lane a tiny bit and has the same uniquely amazing music taste.
4. The witty banter that makes most people cry makes sense to me (most of the time) and puts a nice big smile on my face.
5. I have no life. At all. (Mostly this one. Above all.)

Now that I’ve thoroughly confused any person who has no idea what I’m talking about, I’ll move along. So Rory and Lorelei have this great mother daughter thing going. They live in a cute town. They get the hot guys (who DOESN’T have a thing for Mr. Madina, seriously? Hotforteacher all the way).

So talking seriously now. Over fifteen hours of seeing a mother-daughter relationship like the two younger Gilmores have can be overwhelming. Because then I look at the relationship I have with my own mother and it pretty much pales in comparison. I’m not just talking about how they have the same taste in… everything, but the way that they can communicate. Communication in my family is like walking into the zone between two trenches of fighting countries. You don’t really know what the fuck you’re doing there. There’s no turning back. And there’s a good chance you’ll die a painful death via bullet or weird poison gas and not even know which side it came from. It’s also about the way that they can trust each other and just actually enjoy each other’s company.

To sum up this rambling as I sit here in my “It’s 82 degrees on the thermostat” suit (mostly nothing in case you were wondering), the Gilmore Girl complex is the severe need to feel like you have a bond with your mother when placed under the constant (fifteen hours) proximity of the actual Gilmore Girls (strictly speaking the younger two).

My question to the no people reading this is, does anyone know what I’m talking about or have any opinions on my newfound brilliant psychological discovery of the Gilmore Girl complex?

There will probably be some kind of Veronica Mars complex coming soon for the record. I have a feeling that a day watching season two is coming up soon.