Which I guess is a pointer as to where Paradise is fictionally located within CA. Anyway, it's not a great scene, the girls aren't doing wonders with the dialogue and it's intermittently annoying as it is, and the rest of the ballet class is there and even less practiced with the dialogue, and it's all whatever. Is Fanny going to come teach class? Of course not. They talk about the horrible urban legend mythic details of Hubbell's death -- which would surely strike down any of the three women in his life, were they to overhear these girls, which is the point -- and Boo finally nails it: "Everyone in this room is horrible." I liked these few digressions very much, though:
"I wonder if that was the first time they'd ever had sex. I wonder if that was the first time he'd ever had sex. That's probably what killed him. You're a virgin for 75 years and then the first time you have sex, you do it with a Las Vegas showgirl? He couldn't handle it. Dude drove right into a tree."
Ginny: "When my grandmother died, her spirit haunted our car. Suddenly, the day after the funeral, you couldn't start it if someone was sitting in the passenger seat, Grandma really liked her passenger seat."
Ladies: "What did you do?"
Ginny: "We sold the car."
Ladies: "You sold your grandmother?"
Ginny: "And bought a Ski-Doo."
Melanie: "...Lightning hit our pool three years ago."
Ladies: "Who died?"
Melanie: "No one?"
Sasha: "We're talking death, Melanie. Stay on topic."
"I feel like we're missing something special."
Is it cocktail napkins printed with the Dalai Lama's face? No. Is it the flowers or a cello or a sitar or that white canvas tent? Is it scarves or capes or traditional headwear? It's like she's put something down and wandered off, and she can't remember what it was. The thing that would make it all perfect, that would really bring it all together. All the lists and casseroles and candles and turning off the lamps, one by one by one, and still this feeling in the back of her head that she's missing something.
She feels like we're missing something special. We are.
There is a hole in the middle of this unexpected world, this Paradise, and the wind rushes through it, and if she ever stops talking, she'll hear it. And reincarnation, resurrection, all the traditions and rituals we have available, to give meaning to the meaningless, structure and dignity to the undignified and arbitrary, won't change the fact that something special has gone out of the world.