Anyway, all this O'Neal family saga is secondary to the drama that has just cropped up -- Lorelai's car starts lurching and sputtering. "Pull over! Pull over!" Sookie yells, as Lorelai struggles to the side of the road. "What was that?" Lorelai says she doesn't know. "You know, the... carburetor, or...I think I better call Gypsy."
Paris is nervously pacing her apartment when she hears Rory arrive home. "DOYLE," she yells, "SHE'S HERE!" She drags Rory's bag off her shoulder, admonishing her for being two hours late coming home after her class. Doyle, who is struck down when trying to chitchat with Rory about Logan's upcoming meeting in San Francisco, finally explains that Paris has received letters from many of the medical and law schools to which she applied. Paris is FREAKING OUT. She snatches up the envelopes, listing off all the schools. "Before you comment on envelope thickness," she tells Rory, "keep in mind that so much stuff is online these days; thickness is no longer an accurate indicator." That's what he said. Sorry. She continues to flip out, grabbing up her lucky letter opener. The pressure is too much for her, however, and she fans the letters out and asks Rory to open one for her. Rory draws Yale Law School. "Okay, wow," Paris says, jumpy, while Doyle does Lamaze breathing beside her. "I'd be lucky to get in there." She insists that Rory open it, using the letter opener, saying that obviously, Rory is lucky. "How else do you explain the fact that you got into Harvard four years ago and I didn't?" Rory smirks: "Oh, right. Luck."
After wigging for a moment about whether or not the letter opener's luck will cancel out Rory's luck, Paris finally allows the letter to be opened. "We are pleased to inform you," Rory reads, and the three of them go as crazy as a bunch of Red Sox fans. Paris calms down long enough to give a speech worthy of the Academy. "Thank you so much for your participation in Operation Finish Line, for your friendship, for everything," she says. "You've always been an inspiration to me, Rory Gilmore. I mean, the way you cut your ruthless path to the head of the Yale Daily News and never looked back? I never told you, but I really admired that." Rory grimaces at the memory as Paris turns to Doyle to apologize for being so crazy during her application process. "It doesn't matter," Doyle says. "I love you, baby, and I am so proud of you." Aw. Isn't Doyle the cutest? Paris is thrilled, she says, to have been accepted to the "second-best law school in the country." It doesn't even matter now, she says, if she gets into any of these other schools, because she has a great option right here. Rory and Doyle nod vigorously in agreement, but Paris finally breaks down. "Might as well open Harvard," she says, trying to be casual, and shoves the envelope at Rory. "We are pleased to inform you," Rory reads again, and the freaking begins anew. "BITE ME, HARVARD! BITE ME!" Paris screams in revenge. "YEAH!" Doyle chimes in. "CHOKE ON IT!" Paris says she's tempted to reject Harvard the way they rejected her those four dark years ago. This is why I love Paris so much: I, also, am all about misplaced, directionless revenge. The score must be level, even when it no longer matters. I strongly recommend not ever picking up that mindset, as it makes for many sleepless nights and lots of personal time allocated to grandiose plotting.