Champagne and kissing in the car. Sex and booze in a stretch limo. Yeah, my "twelve" looked just like this. Except with more baseball cards and fewer broken dreams.
Back at the ladies' villa, Lee hyphen Ann is sad because none of the other girls likes her. She sits outside on a swing, rocking back and forth on it and thinking, "Hey, they named this thing after my moods!" She's sad that she "does not feel comfortable in this house at all." She's "miserable" that the girls throw spitballs at her in Geometry class and won't let any of the boys take her to the junior prom. So she calls a house meeting to talk about her feelings, sheepishly creeping into the kitchen while everyone else is cooking dinner and asking, "Can I talk to you in the living room?" Why the sudden change of venue? Is she opposed to, like, fighting in front of the cheese? Why not just have it where four people already happen to be assembled? In a confessional, Meredith calls Lee-Ann a drama queen, adding in an accusatory "yech" for good measure. I wish she had said that to Lee-Ann's face, with a sexy girl-fight breaking out soon after, with the shortie pajamas, feather pillows bursting open in slo-mo, jiggling, and what-have-you. Because after I said on TV that I thought Pamela Anderson had hottie breasts, this is what my life has become. Anyway, outside of my résumé and back on the television show, Lee-Ann blubbers and tells everyone she's sorry and wah wah poor me. Right. Not even Brooke's mole is moved. No one gives a crap. Lee-Ann is sad some more, and Kelly Jo pretends to care a little, telling us that she's like "Sybil" and giving Lee-Ann tips on how not to have been totally psycho in the first place.
Back at the Shady Pines field trip to an unnamed amusement park, Mary tells us, "Once we deplaned the private jet..." "DEPLANED"? I've have actually heard that word a total of one other time in my life, ever, in an ancient (though, I have to admit, hilarious) Paula Poundstone HBO special from one billion years ago, in which she discusses the fact that you don't use the word "de-car" and "de-train," so why should "plane" be any different? To which I always answered, "It's not, and no one says it." Except now. At the park, Bob makes Mary close her eyes, then tells her to open them. Such a motor command hardly matters, though, what with the milky cataracts already completely obscuring her remaining vision. All the lights of the amusement park go on at once and OH! So beautiful! There are fountains! So romantic! It's like PARIS! Secretly, Mary just wants to be home with a glass of bitters, watching her stories. But she's pretty game, considering, and she tells us in a voice-over that it seemed at that moment that the only people in the park were "he and I." Sigh. And I thought grammar was such a key component of education in the 1950s. She must have been under her desk in an air raid drill the day they learned what happens in the "predicate." La la lee lee loo. Bob and Mary ride a really scary roller coaster. So scary! Good thing she has a big (though he used to be bigger and now he is skinny), strong man at her side. He wins some basketball game thing and she claps. He feeds her cotton candy. They drink with two straws out of one ice cream soda. They neck. Later? Down by Lover's Leap? There's going to be some serious heavy (though now it is skinnier) petting.