Back at her apartment, Rory arrives home to find Paris having a little party with other Yale seniors recently accepted into Harvard Medical School. "A good chance to size up the competition," Paris says secretively to Rory. She knows a few of them from her classes and thus already knows that she can crush them when the time comes. "Elise and Tim are new to me," she adds. "But Elise's hand was shaking a little when she was cutting into the cake, so I've got her pegged for an early exit into podiatry." Rory: "Sounds like quite a party." Paris: "It really is." When Paris offers Rory a piece of naked guy cake -- they couldn't get a corpse cake, so had to settle for a porn cake from a novelty baker -- Rory graciously declines. "It's a little early for cake for me," she says, cringing. I must agree that even I, a true frosting addict, would have difficulty enjoying frosting designed to look like, you know, body hair of any kind. "It actually tastes pretty good once you get past the whole pornographic dessert issue," Paris insists, but Rory has bigger things (ha) on her mind. A letter has come from the Chicago Sun Times. "They're not hiring," she says, and when Paris expresses concerns, Rory repeats her current catchphrase that "it's not a big deal." She goes into her room, steels herself, and whips out her really complicated cell phone. God, this next part is really hard for me to even type. She...calls the lady who interviewed her for the newspaper job a few weeks back. You know, the one she turned down? Eeeeek, it's so cringey I can't take it. She just wanted to check, she says, since the ProJo job is so great, um, is it, maybe, you know... No. No, it isn't. "Of course," she finally says, downtrodden. "You've already filled the position. Well...thanks!" Ugh. Seriously, I do get nostalgic for my early twenties sometimes -- the exuberance of youth, the new independence, all that -- but mostly when I remember that upheaval, I look back on myself and tsk loud enough to wake the neighbors. Right now, I am having terrible post-college flashbacks and must go at once to bury my head in some ice cream.
I have returned, full of sugar and self-forgiveness. Meanwhile, Lorelai has made her way to the Inn, where Sookie is cooking up some morning meatballs, one of which she happily waves in Lorelai's face. Lorelai declines to taste a meatball at 9:00 AM. "It doesn't even taste like a meatball," Sookie promises. Lorelai: "Does it taste like a Danish?" All meatball talk is postponed so that Lorelai can update Sookie about Luke's hat. "He hasn't worn it since we broke up, I mean, not once," Lorelai says. Sookie says she's right. "He wears that black hat now," she says. "Gives him a slightly more menacing quality." Yes, it did. It was all wrong. Viva le blue hat! Lorelai wonders what it all means. "It's good," Sookie says. She thinks the return of the blue hat means Luke is past his pain and glad he and Lorelai are friends again. Lorelai agrees and wonders if she should reciprocate. "Maybe," she says, "I should wear my own hat, as it were." Sookie gasps: "Did he give you a hat?" Hee. No, girl. That is what "as it were" means. Lorelai says she got rid of all her Luke-related stuff, so she can't show up wearing something he gave her, but she doesn't want to leave this hat gesture unacknowledged. "Hey," Sookie brilliantly suggests, "you could throw on a flannel shirt.!" Awesome. I know just where she can get one, too.