"...The madness and genius of Skeletor. That is correct, I said genius," the cute nerd underscores, while Blair suffers a Nairtini to the soul that can only be saved by the Numeral's text: "Help! Jenny Humphrey is destroying everything!" Blair thanks God and rushes to the aid of Constance's basic -- what's the word Jenny learned today? hierarchy -- hierarchy, informing a pothead on her way out that sandals are not shoes. He and his shaggy brethren shake their heads in her wake, but I remember my first year in Austin, when I honestly did just want to let everybody know that fact.
Olivia's stupidly named publicist Kenny "KC" Cunningham, whose looks really turned me off on Monday but whom I have since decided is totally beautiful, is rearranging Vanessa's shit when she gets back to her dorm room. "I see that you took down my Godard poster," Vanessa bershons, helpfully providing KC with just about everything she needs to know about Vanessa in one sentence. She hands Big V an NDA and Vanessa gets curious about who her roomie's going to be, and then that bedamned fedora peeks round the doorframe, illuminated by all the teeth in the world, like a million stars.
Olivia vaults across the room to hang the Godard poster back up -- "For the record, I love Godard" she tryhards -- and Vanessa goggles at her, trying to reconcile her pretentious inability to admit she recognizes Olivia with her starfucker excitement, and coming up with like the square root of negative one. Olivia pretends to be just as excited that her roommate is the famous "Vanessa Abrams," but if she really knew V's rep she'd have a restraining order in hand already. She sees the confidentiality waiver on Vanessa's bed and makes a great big show of tossing it in the garbage before heading out to liberate the rest of the girls on the floor from their burdens of confidentiality.
Man, they are going to get along like gangbusters, these two. Please God, let Olivia get into PETA or lezzing out. If only to spite her unseen but even-more so sister, she'd follow that lead so easy. ("College is for experimentation," she told us. "Lebanese food," Dan's going to suggest! The clues are all there! The call is coming from inside the house!)
"Summer Job" by Art Brut ("I'm so laissez-faire/ Sometimes I'm not even there/ If you want me sober and straight/ I'm afraid I'm gonna be a little bit late") plays over a pretty glamorous montage of Serena interviewing for her job-slash-internship at all kinds of places with the following heart-stopping VIPs: Actual Tory Burch, of Tory Burch. Actual Georgina Chapman, of Marchesa. Actual Todd DiCiurcio, of the world of hot artistes and philanthropy and dressing like Chuck but In Real Life.