I just finished watching the final episode of The Gilmore Girls the other day. I started rewatching the show from the beginning a few months ago and it has come to a close. Again.
I’ve seen every episode of all 7 seasons at least 5 times each, but I just love that show.
Lorelai’s quirky humor, Rory’s witty comebacks, the twists and turns of every relationship, and the idea of such a small, close-knit New England town always keep me wanting more.
I want to participate in knit-a-thons to raise money for a bridge (P.S. I don’t know how to knit), go to a Spring Fling with a hay bale maze that weaves through the entire town, and have a Luke’s Diner where I’m a regular and, well, where everybody knows my name.
I know these characters. I laugh at their jokes, I rejoice in their successes, and my heart breaks when theirs do.
I’ve spent months getting to know them all (again) and then suddenly, it’s all just…over. The final episode came to a close and I was left with the heartless bright blue screen of FBI warnings.
I hate endings, just about as much as I hate goodbyes (AKA badbyes).
Yes, yes. I know it’s just a TV show, but I connect with people. It’s just what I do.
Whether it is people in TV shows, movies, books, or in real life (I promise, I have nonfictional relationships, too), I just can’t help myself.
There’s a reason I refuse to watch horror movies.
I feel. Deeply and completely.
You want someone to rejoice with you for overcoming that most recent obstacle in your life? I do that. There will probably be bouncing and hugging involved.
You want someone to double over laughing at something hilarious that happened that day? Oh man, I’m a master of the silent, I-can-hardly-catch-a-breath laugh.
You want a shoulder to cry on? I’m your woman. Tears’ll be falling down my cheeks, too.
That last one is actually how these smoothies came to be.
Gilmore Girls ended and I was sniffling and trying to accept that there will be no new happenings in Stars Hollow.
Daniel was trying to stifle his chuckles, because he doesn’t get how I can be in such a state of grief over fictional happenings.
And, all of a sudden, I just knew I needed to make a smoothie.
My mom used to make us smoothies in her food processor on an occasional weekend morning as a special breakfast and I needed a dose of nostalgic comfort, something to bring me back to reality.
And something cold. It’s summer in Tucson and we need all the cool we can get!
I still had mangoes left from the Mango Board, which were perfectly ripe and succulently sweet, so I only added 1 tablespoon of honey, but if your mangoes are more tart, you may want to add more.
And, because it’s me, there were obviously no bananas involved. Blech.
So, I whipped these up and just a few minutes later was sitting down, sipping my tangy, cool treat, remembering how cold my hands would get as I held my little plastic cup full of smoothie as a kid, while our family sat around our kitchen table, taking turns reading the funnies.
Though, we definitely didn’t have chia seeds in our house growing up!
So, instead of focusing on the end of my TV show, I transported my thoughts to my past, which was at least a partial success, right?
Now, for the important question…
Which show do I start watching next?