Oh my god it is over. There is no more High Society to be watched and now we can live in peace. Supposedly there is another season in the works, but let's pretend that's not true and say goodbye forever.
Paul Johnson Calderon
Our poor little cricket was, once again, having boy dramz. You'll remember that he's been having a beautiful love affair with a male model named Model, the sort of square-jawed youngster you typically see wearing underpants bodysuits in the International Male catalog. They lived and loved, pecked and planned, but in the end it was all for naught. It looks as though the relationship has been put on ice, mostly because PJC cannot be trusted once his feelings have been hurt. The situation was this: PJC and Model were at a swell party for swells hosted by a blog site of some sort. It was in an underground cave full of bats and guano. But enough about Jules Kirby! The party was going really well. Those annoying British girls were finally all devoured by the cave monsters and the music was bumping and the cameras were rolling. PJC was so swept up in all the excitement and activity that, well, he strayed too far from Model, who is very sensitive about being left alone ever since the underpants bodysuit incident. But PJC didn't notice, so carried away was he with the fascinating conversation of the blog site people and their friends. Next thing he knew, he turned around and Model had disappeared, gone weeping off into the night, hurrying home to get into his pjs (not into his PJ) and suck his thumb (not his PJ). What was PJC to do??
Well, PJC was to find the nearest porn star and hook up with him. That's what PJC was to do. Oh, PJC. The next day PJC was shocked, shocked, to find out that someone had seen him do this. This thing with all the TV cameras and the making out. Apparently a trashy website called Gawker picked up the story, but I can't find it on their web servers. (Can you, sad detective??) PJC gasped when he saw the item and said "Omeegawd, what am I going to doooo???" He decided to call Model and meet him on the rainy steps near the Bethesda fountain in Central Park. Model cried and told Paul that he had loved him once, but now that love was just a ghost, echoing away with a faraway moan like a nighttime train. PJC welled up and did not know what to say, what to do, so he just let Model leave in his demure undergarments. Then Hannah Pitt came out and talked about how in the new millennium, in the year 2000, she will take PJC and Model to the real Bethesda fountain in the Middle East and they would wash themselves clean and all would be repaired and forgiven. Until then PJC will just wander the lonely streets of New York and think about all that he's lost. He'll adjust his petticoat and press on, eager for a new love.
Was Jules even in this episode? I'm not sure she was. Well, she might have been for a hot second during the cave party, hissing and spitting and PJC and other weird, colored gay types. I think that's a perfectly fair way to remember her. I was sort of hoping that she'd go out in a blaze of blood and bullets, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. Maybe next season! You'll have to tell me if that happens, because I will not be watching. Goodbye, Jules! Try not to kill anyone for a few hours. You'll be amazed how good it feels.
Deborah Denise Trachtenberg
Yikes! The Trachtenberg's out of the trachtenbag. Yes, last night "Devorah Rose" was revealed to be a stage name of sorts for one Deborah Denise Trachtenberg, a mysterious person of origins unknown. (Newton, MA?) Well first she had to have her big showdown with Tinsley in the cave. And oh boy was it a showdown! First Tinsley said things like "You're not my friend." And then "If you're such a good friend, how come you talked to New York Magazine about my various sadnesses?" DDT was all "You ignored me at a couple of parties..." and Tinsley just shook her melony head and said "No! No!" and started clapping and stamping her feet. DDT slowly backed away, leaving Tinsley alone to do her fervent anger dance in peace.
After that, it was time for Deets to go to a fun sexy fashion photoshoot for the swimsuit company she is the face of, Non-Existent Swimsuit Company Inc. The fashion shoot was to take place on a Wirgin Island, so they all went to Teterboro Airport (where rich people keep their leather-filled champagne planes) to board a jet and fly on down there. Just one problem: Airport security was checking everyone's details and was like "Hold up, there is no one in existence named Devorah Rose." KERTHUNK. Of course there wouldn't be. Devorah Rose is just a Keyser Soze. It is myth and magic and make believe. Hanging her head low, Deborah Denise stepped forward and put her hair back up in a bun and put her glasses back on and suddenly she had braces and was wearing a ratty cardigan and it was like She's All That in reverse, and she said "My real name is Deborah Denise Trachtenberg, and I'd still like to take the swimsuit pictures if you'll let me." Everyone gasped and some tried to suppress laughs (I believe in an interview segment Jules or someone was like "Trachtenberg? Typical poor people name." and it was like, for someone who lives on the Upper East Side, you reeeallllly need to learn a lesson about people whose last names end in -berg and their occasional connection to money) and poor DDT just whimpered there, shocked that her terrible secret was out.
But, oh well, OK, they let her do the swimsuit shoot anyway and that's where we left her, Devorah Rose writhing on a beach, Deborah Denise Trachtenberg lying dead behind a palm tree, bludgeoned to death by a coconut.
Dale didn't show up much in this episode either. But toward the end she did have a tea party with her two girls, Tinsley and Dagnabbit, and they discussed, oh, many things. "Tea" meant champagne, so the girls gurgled and giggled and got silly and then Dale said "Girls, I have an announcement. I'm a big ol' lesbian and this is my beautiful partner, Judith." And a woman wearing a turtleneck under a sweatshirt with an Amy Madigan hairdo climbed up from under the table and said "Hi girls, I'm Judith. I work part time at a crafts store, I drive a Tercel, and my favorite drink is root beer." Dale beamed and said "Isn't she great? We're moving to Burlington in the fall." Good for you, Dale!
Malik the Sheik
At the time of the Harvest Moon, he will come to you. You will feel a slight shiver and then you'll be gone.
After — hiccup! — champagne-tea, Tinsley went home to write in her diary about all the fancy things she'd done over the past few crazy days.
Today the picture people came and said "Tinsley, this is your last day of being a picture, tomorrow you will go back to just being a person." And I made a sad face and wondered if that's why Momma had fizzytea with us, because maybe she wanted to be a picture one more time before it all ends. But no, I like to think that Momma was just happy and that she wanted us to meet her new roommate Judith. That's what I like to think.
I guess I'm not that sad about not being a picture anymore. I had fun times. My friend Brenda Judice Mickelberg approached me in a cave and said "You are never nice to me!" and I shrieked back "I hate you and your ham salad face!" and then she left but I did a giggle dance, because it's fun to play pretend fight with my friend, Agatha Eunice Huggenberg.
What other fun times did I have?? Oh I finally went to a shoppe store and gave them the bags Momma and I made during crafts time. She showed me how to use the glue gun and I said "I like this button!" and Momma smiled at it and said "That one is made of solid golb. And it is very expensive. You have good taste." I said thank you and then put solid golb buttons on every bag I made. I hope someone goes into the shoppe store and says "I like those golb buttons. Can I have them?" and the girl who works there says "Of course you can!" and she gives the nice person one of the golb button bags. Tinsley's Button Bags. I think that's a fun business to own. I am very proud of myself. "Yay for Button Bags!" they'll say when I walk down the streets. "There's ol' Button Bags Mortimer with her Button Bags made of golb." Momma will be very proud.
And I hope Papa will too, wherever he is. I hope Papa looks at my picture show and thinks that he misses me very much and would like to see me again. And I hope that he knows that I won't be angry at him for going away because I'll just be too happy having him back. I'll show him all my button bags and pictures of all my friends and he'll say "You're doing pretty good here, Tinsjelica. You're doing pretty good." And he will smell like tobacco flakes and wristwatches, which is always how he smells. I never told anyone but you, oh diary, that that is why I did the picture show at all. I hoped Papa would come back and Momma would be nice again and we could all be happy. Just happy happy happy.
But now that it is over today, I just don't know if it worked! I don't feel much different, just a little more tired I guess. That's all. I'm a little sleepy. But I guess sleepy is better than sad. Sleepy is better than mad. Sleepy is better than lots of things.
Love you forever diary,