1) Don't even bother because we will never have the time, and 2) All of this is real and you shouldn't question it, because looking at that shit objectively will send you into a Blair-style existential freakout. I mean, if Arnett-Mead actually existed -- which I really don't think it does, which makes awesome that GG did that, referenced a West TX town that doesn't exist in order to make a point about Friday Night Lights being real and being awesome -- it would be an hour or two from my parents' house. And what I learned today is that, being who I am, it actually is impossible to explain. I'll keep trying, but it's not actually possible. Which bums me out because Bree Buckley's stupid face should be good for something, and if it's not for explaining Texas, which her few words secretly do explain, then what's she for, but also, when I heard an "evil Texas socialite" was being cast last summer, I stupidly went to a Mary Cherry place, effortlessly. And Senator's granddaughter Bree Buckley? I served with Mary Cherry, I knew Mary Cherry, Mary Cherry was a friend of mine. At Hockaday. And you're no Mary Cherry.)
Bree says if it means anything -- and it does -- she's sorry, but Nate's still stuck on two pages ago because it doesn't. He's so sad! He asks her to leave, and she does, and he's like amazed. He stares after her, past Kim doing her thing, and there's Serena leaving Carter a scared voicemail: "Carter, hey. I just talked to Chuck. I just want to make sure you're okay. Call me, please. I want to talk to you." Lots and lots of fades through the party, until we're looking at Carter in the car with the Buckley cousins, and it's scary, and guess what Carter is brooding, and then Jenny and Eric are giggling, watching Rufus and Lily dance. Finally. "Well? It took twenty years, but we finally made it." Lily laughs, and loves him: "I wouldn't have done it any other way." Past them, and into Dan remarking that it's an almost-perfect night, except for how Georgina once against got away unscathed, and spooky Blair, master of scathing all comers, telling him not to worry about it because sweeping into Chuck's arms, and dancing happily.
"People who are immune may, however, unknowingly transmit the disease-germ from one person to another ... a recent case being that of "Typhoid Mary," a domestic servant near New York City, who for several years endangered the lives of others in homes and hospitals where she was employed. The menace of such persons to public healthy justifies their permanent isolation."