Back at her apartment, Rory spackles alone. She stares at the ring Logan gave her, tries it on, and smiles. I smile, too, remembering the night my husband proposed to me, and how he busted me at 3:00 AM when he woke up and found me holding my hand in front of my face, trying to look at my ring in my sleep.
The next day, Richard and Lorelai trail behind Emily through Yale's campus as she bitches about Milan Kundera's speech. Lorelai says maybe it's a cultural thing -- maybe Milan Kundera is like the Robin Williams of the Czech Republic. "With that voice?" Emily snarks. "It was so soporific it was like he was trying to perform a mass hypnosis." It's too bad that didn't happen, actually, because anything to calm Emily down at this point would be good. She is still flipping out about the proposal and is incredulous that Lorelai doesn't have more information about what Rory's thinking. Lorelai stops for a moment, worrying that she hasn't picked up enough programs for the Stars Hollow reenactment. Emily hands over the wrinkled one she has been using as a fan, much to Lorelai's disappointment. "Sweetheart," Richard says, "I am sure I could use some of my many contacts to procure as many programs as you need." In that case, Emily says, she'll take her program back. "As my friend Sylvia Rosenblatt says, 'I'm sha-vit-zing.'" Hee! "Shvitzing, Mom," Lorelai corrects. "Shvitzing." Oy. I'm shvitzing from this all this shmuesn, right here.
Speaking of yadda yadda, Paris, Rory, Lucy, and Olivia are hanging out, waiting to go to their ceremonies, acting like fools, drinking champagne straight from the bottle. Never, ever do this, young people -- it will go straight up your nose and you will spend the next thirty minutes coughing and sneezing your way through the speeches at your friend's wedding reception. Hypothetically, I'm saying. Anyway, they all tease Rory for not coming out to party down with them after the Grandparents' reception. She says she would have come out, had Paris not threatened her with pain of death to complete the spackling. "Hey," Paris says, "each unspackled hole is deposit money that our hygienically challenged sleazebag of a landlord will use to fund his freakin' porn habit." Awesome. I hope Paris is back next week, just for a final farewell. Sniff. Rory tells no one about the proposal from Logan, blithely describing the reception as no big deal. They go off to their ceremonies, toasting themselves. "I wonder if I'll actually get my diploma in my envelope," Lucy worries. "Why?" Rory jokes. "Do you have some overdue library books?" Y'all, don't laugh -- my late father almost did not graduate for this very reason. I attended his alma mater and, I swear, I could feel the librarians looking at me when they saw my name.