So here's what everybody's up to: Chuck and Raina Thorpe are still doin' it, talking that mad confusion business rival sex stuff like "Who knew what a turn-on it would be?" and "As long as we play clean in business, I'm happy to keep it dirty between the sheets" and crap like that. Gossip Girl is trying to stay warm, quilting in her spare time and sleeping in a pile of her many cats, mourning over how Jennifer Aniston made Perez Hilton be nice, wondering if she can take his place.
Eric is so lonely he thinks Serena can be places, but she's ignoring his pleas for attention because she's still desperately trying to make Ben Donovan approve of her breasts. And Blair is starting her internship, which we know is going to be at a fashion magazine because of last week but Serena assumes is at either a doughnut shop or the CIA, because that's how Serena thinks.
"This is like living with Don Draper!" Serena sighs, after Blair cups one magnificent boob in her hand, puts out a cigarette in her morning scotch, and heads off to keep her many wives in the dark about each other. Left alone for the day in the gilded cage of her own forgotten dreams, Serena heads upstairs to beat her children, while smoking one hundred cigarettes and struggling internally with the revolutionary ideas of one Betty Friedan.
Dan is so grateful that Lily got him a job at another mysterious magazine which is actually the same mysterious magazine, obviously, although Lily already knows he's going to hate it, because if the movies have taught us anything it's that fashion magazine internships are the White Elephant of internships: Nobody really wants to work there, it's certainly not a deadly competition full of double-crosses and eating disorders, no, it's just a stepping stone to being the next Saul Bellow generally.
Daniel skips breakfast, gamely, and when he's gone Lily's like, "Well, at least one of our kids likes me. Too bad it's the worst one." Rufus tells her not to worry, because at least they haven't had Vanessa climbing in the windows or shinnying up the air conditioning lately, and Jenny's letters from Hudson are no longer just pictures cut out of Vogue with tiny dicks drawn on the ladies and red-marker blood coming out of their eyes.
"I get Ben out on parole, but Serena and Eric continue to treat me like I'm toxic!" Rufus, having learned a thing or two, immediately says that it's preposterous anybody would think the horrible shit she's constantly doing to their kids could ever have consequences, and so he lives another day. "Everything I do, or have ever done, is for my children," Lily says. And scoff away, but she's not wrong: The serial monogamy with old dudes was all about her kids, the constant business backstabbing is always about the family, pretending at different times that her troubled children don't exist is done for their benefit, and even the elaborate ruse about her mother's fake cancer was only to cover up her own fake cancer. It's not that she's wrong, it's that she goes about things so poorly she might as well be trying actively to destroy them.