Group cry?

So, I had hoped that this morning we could all get together and have a lively chat about last night's Gilmore Girls finale, about how blithe and witty and charming it was, how it brightened our -- oh, nevermind.

Where Grey's Anatomy felt like a good healthy cry on Sunday, the little gulping sobs I found myself choking back last night were not cathartic in the least. I'm so glad that I'll be able to sit and savor this feeling of despair for a good three to four months before next season's premiere.

Here's the things you feel about a cliffhanger: Excitement. Anticipation. The uncanny and unreasonable belief that it's all going to work out.

This was not a cliffhanger. This was something of a scorched earth policy.

Seriously, I ask you: To whom did Amy Sherman-Palladino not give the finger last night?

I imagine her thinking went a little like this:

Luke-shippers? Thanks for waiting more than five seasons for him to take off the freakin' baseball cap. What do I, Amy S-P, have for you? The finger.

Christopher-shippers? Way to back the dark horse all this time. For you? The finger.

David Rosenberg? You want my show? Fix this, motherf'er!

And to all you who said, More of the town troubador? I give you town troubador the way avians give you the flu. And you'll like it. Oh, yes, you will.

I (Seren talking now) am all about the unfounded aggression, people, and maybe this aggression was founded. But OUCH.

Yes, I liked Miss Patty, as always. Yes, I liked the song about the thumb loss. Yes, I thought the episode was well-crafted, and very good with the dramatic arc, and how often have I said that this season?

BUT, but now I have OUCH pencilled in for the next four months.

Thanks, ASP and DP! Thanks for the memories!

(My disclaimer on this critique is that I was not in a bouncy mood before watching the show, and I am not in a bouncy mood now. If someone else found the episode to be all that they wanted and more, please do reason with me, because I could use some cheering up.)