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“The L Word” Recaps: Episode 6.04 “Leaving Los Angeles”

THIS WEEK’S L WORD VOCABULARY:

Nutloaf: The perfect Valentine for your threesome candidate.

Control: What Bette still desperately craves.

Max: The worst of all the wasted opportunities of The L Word.

THIS WEEK’S GUESTBIANS: Elizabeth Berkley wants to be noticed; Roger Cross listens carefully; Mei Melançon charms everyone; Alexandra Hedison rolls with the punches.

THREAT COUNT: Thus far, three characters have threatened Jenny’s life: Niki, after Jenny made the “showmance” comment; Tina, when she thought Jenny had stolen the negative; and Max (this episode; read on).

The Planet – Max, Tom, Alice and Tasha are sharing some food and conversation. Hmm, that’s an interesting pair of couples. I think I’d actually like to hang out with them. But maybe not today, since the topic of conversation is Shane and Jenny – who are indulging in a little PDA nearby.

Alice: They’re still on each other.

Tasha: Like white on rice.

Tasha says this so adorably (like she says most things), but Alice is more interested in substance than style.

Alice: You just gossiped!

Tasha: That was an observation. Jeez.

Alice: You don’t have to get defensive. We’re developing similar interests.

Yes: grasp at every straw of possible connection! I’m hoping against hope that you two are gonna make it after all.

Jenny and Shane stroll over and sit down. So are they “out” as a couple or not? I never know who knows what or how much time has passed since the last episode or what time of day it is. The producers should really get Kiefer Sutherland to do a voice-over at the beginning of each episode: “The following occurs between the hours of Something A.M. and Otherthing P.M., or maybe slightly before or after. Events occur in unreal time.”

Jenny breaks the ice with a sledgehammer:

Jenny: [to Max] How is the beautiful mother-to-be?

Max flips her off. And really, isn’t that the only possible reply? But as usual, Jenny clings to her version of reality.

Jenny: What was that for?

Tom: [with an implied “duh”] He doesn’t like being referred to as “mother.”

Jenny: Why? You should be proud that you’re a mother.

Max: I’m not a mother, OK, Jenny? Can you get that?

OK, little lost Gibb, but whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother, you’re stayin’ alive. But that’s not necessarily a good thing, considering how they’ve assassinated your character.

Jenny can’t really “get” Max at all. She makes faces that say, “Gah, what’s her problem,” which irks Tom:

Tom: Jenny, stop it.

Max: What’d she do?

Jenny: I was doing absolutely nothing. I’m simply saying that you look beautiful. You have these breasts now, you know? You have hips and you’re curvaceous, and you’re becoming womanly now.

Shane: [making a face, shaking her head and putting her hand up] Uh, Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, Jenny.

Jenny: I’m not trying to be insulting. I’m just saying you should be proud to be a mother. A beautiful mother, you know? The fact of the matter is, most women look terrible when they’re pregnant.

Max leaves the table, prompting Jenny to ask, “Why is she so sensitive?”

Ugh. The bigger question is why is Jenny so insensitive? It doesn’t really make sense. I know she’s had her issues with Max, but shouldn’t she be the first one to understand the importance of words and names? And shouldn’t she, of all people, know how much support you need from your friends when you’re struggling to be who you are? I give up. Tom’s right when he declares the whole thing “really unbelievable” and stomps off after Max.

Max is in the bathroom, sobbing over a sink. Tom tries to comfort him.

Max: I hate her. I hate it; it’s these f—ing hormones; I hate these hormones. And I hate these tits, and I hate these f—ing hips, and I hate Jenny Schecter!

Well, he didn’t actually use the word “kill,” but I think it still counts as a threat. The mere presence of the word “hormones” counts as a threat to a lot of people – if you throw in “tits” and “hips,” you can expect someone to bust out the hazmat suits.

Max-bashing – Back at the table, Alice says she’s glad someone finally broached the subject of Max’s pregnancy.

Shane: I can’t believe they’re gonna have that baby.

Jenny: It was too late not to.

Alice: Poor Max.

They’re all talking with their mouths full of edamame. I love edamame and am officially inspired to make some for a snack right now. Then I’ll recap with my mouth full, but I’ll bet it will be less noticeable.

Let’s talk about that “too late” point for a minute. Of course it’s more difficult to get an abortion after the first trimester, but it’s not impossible, is it? Wouldn’t Max seem like an obvious special case? The “psychological denial” thing might apply. Oh, whatever. Read this excellent letter to Mama Chaiken if you really want to ponder the many, many things that are wrong with Max’s story line.

But Tasha doesn’t think Max is so “poor” anyway:

Tasha: A couple of months from now, all people are gonna see is two gay dads. And they get to have the baby together. I think he kinda gets to have it all.

Alice: When is she due?

Shane: He.

Et tu, Alice? How difficult can one little pronoun be? This continuing transphobia is lame.

Suddenly we can see Tina and Bette at the table. Whoa, when did they get there? I guess they were waiting to fill in if Tom and Max had to leave. Maybe Helena and Kit are in the wings too, ready to rotate on short notice.

Bette and Tina are talking about their imminent trip to Laughlin, Nevada. But before they can explain why they’re headed to that fair city, Jenny interrupts:

Jenny: [gasping] I know who stole the negative.

To emphasize the horror of her realization, she briefly poses as Edvard Munch’s “The Scream.”

And her theory is just as bonkers as that painting makes me feel: Jenny thinks William (the sibilant financier played by Wallace Shawn) stole the negative in order to fake an insurance claim. Tina declares this “extreme,” while Shane seems to be thinking, “I’m not mad; I’m just disappointed.”

Bette excuses herself to speak to Kelly. You know, “Juicy,” her former roommate.

Tasha returns to the question of the Nevada trip. Tina reveals that it’s a visit to a potential birth mother.

Shane: She knows that you’re a bunch of gays?

Tina: Yep, she knows all about us.

The foreshadowing on this show is more like foreshortening. Of my brain.

Bette brings Kelly over to meet everyone. Kelly teases Bette about her “gay girl hangout.” As Bette and Kelly go to a different table to talk, the gay girls wonder whether their hangout has been breached.

Alice: Who’s that?

Tina: Kelly Wentworth. She was getting her undergrad at Yale when Bette was getting her M.F.A.

I could make a joke about what M.F.A. stands for, but it’s a little too obvious. And Alice’s expression is making it for me.

Also, since when do grad students and undergrads mingle, let alone live together? Horsefeathers.

Tina goes back to discussing the birth mother. And Alice goes back to congratulating Tasha for taking part in “gossip” and staying involved in the conversations. Tasha smiles weakly. Why don’t you just pat her on the head, Alice?

Kit slides into the chair that was first occupied by Tom and then temporarily taken by Bette. See? She was waiting in the wings. If only this really were a game of musical chairs: then we’d at least get a good pratfall once in a while.

Kit: Tina, why is Kelly Fremont here?

Kit reveals that Kelly was a “vixen” in college. Tina insists that nothing happened between Bette and Kelly, “not even first base.”

Kit: Excuse me. My sister almost killed herself over that b-i-t-c-h.

Yes, she actually spells it out. Oh, K-i-t.

Before Tina can process this juicy little tidbit (get it? juicy!), they are all distracted by the sudden presence of Dylan over by the bar.

Alice: What the f—?

That really is the refrain for this season, isn’t it? They agree that Dylan is insane for thinking she can woo Helena. Well, they don’t use the word “woo,” but I’m trying to spice things up here.

Turns out Dylan is crazy smart:

Kit: [sliding into that chair again] Tina, she has a meeting with you.

Tina: No, actually, I have a meeting with a film … maker.

They all shake their heads as they realize what’s going on. I can’t believe Kit doesn’t say “Girl!”

Tina: She set me up! That is so sly.

So Tina saunters up to the bar to meet Dylan the filmmaker. Wow, what a view! That dress is definitely working for you, Tina. Who’s so sly now? Well, actually, I don’t think “sly” is ever the right adjective for a badonkadonk, but yours is definitely somewhere on the continuum of foxy.

A Sheraton at the edge of Hell – Max and Tom are attending a Lamaze class. Doesn’t that seem like asking for trouble? I think I’d rent a DVD instead.

It’s sort of like that “taint” scene in Baby Mama – they talk about lubing up the perineum and everything – but it’s not even one sixty-fourth as funny. It gets downright tragic when the instructor gives Tom and Max some personal attention.

Instructor: [to Tom] Spread her legs apart. Sorry, um … spread the legs.

Somehow Max finds the fortitude to wink at Tom and touch his hand, which is sweet.

But then the instructor whips out a pelvic model in order to demonstrate massage techniques, and Tom blanches. Aww, don’t let the big plastic vagina scare you, Tom! Actually, it’s scaring me, too.

It’s not half as scary as this story line as a whole, though. I want it to go away. Bring back Max’s cute girlfriend Grace and let him have a job and a life and a little self-respect. Or just kill him off already; it would be more humane.

Reunited – Back at the Planet, Bette and Kelly are catching up over dinner. They talk about Liz Craft, an artist who just happened to be in the Provocations show. It seems Kelly has always loved contemporary art, “going back to Yale, when [Bette] T.A.’ed for Scully’s class.”

Hmm. I just imagined Bette as a teaching assistant for Dana Scully. But, yeah, the art thing:

Kelly: You gave me that, Bette. You did. It was a gift.

Which, exactly? Your appreciation for beautiful art, or your appreciation for beautiful women? Actually, you don’t have to choose: they’re both sitting right across from you.

That’s even prettier if you squint to make the gargantuan flowers go away. See what GMOs hath wrought? Flowers that swallow up necks!

Over at the bar – Tina doesn’t really want to hear anything Dylan has to say. But Dylan is nothing if not persistent.

Dylan: I’m here because I’ve got nothing to lose. Helena is the love of my life, and I would give anything for another chance to be with her.

Tina: And you want me to help you?

Tina politely declines. Sorry, Dylan. I think maybe Tina was getting a mixed message: your words touched her heart, but your flippy clown hair tickled her funny bone.

A dangerous proposal – Kelly wants Bette to tell her about some “exciting” artists.

Kelly: I want to know what you know.

Bette: It’s taken me 20 years to know what I know. I mean, you’ve been at this what, nine months?

Hey, it’s long enough to produce a Mini Max, so why not a career? And a career is exactly what Bette is thinking about right now – her own, that is.

Bette: The best way I can think of to help you, to make your gallery a contender, is if I would come and work with you.

Kelly: What about CU?

Bette: I resigned.

Kelly wasn’t exactly expecting to hear this, and it isn’t exactly true. Bette claims that she “missed being in the trenches” of the real “art world.” You mean that all-out war with Jodi wasn’t edgy enough for you? But yeah, I guess it was never quite as exciting as the free-speech protests and the death threats from right-wingers. The art world is so action-packed!

For some reason, Kelly believes every fib that’s falling from Bette’s luscious lips.

Kelly: And so … you wanna come work for me.

Bette chuckles deeply. Note to self: if you ever meet Beals, say something preposterous in the hopes of getting her to laugh like that.

Bette: Oh, not in your wildest dreams. I mean, if you think that just because you won $50 million in some divorce –

Kelly: Eighty-nine.

Bette: $89 million.

Kelly: Please don’t forget that.

Bette: Whatever. If you think that in any way remotely qualifies you to be my boss, we can just air-kiss good-bye right now.

And then Bette gets serious. Kelly is hanging on her every word, and Bette is happy to take her moment in the spotlight.

Bette: What I’m offering you is to be your partner.

There’s just a skosh too much meaning in Bette’s eyes as she says the word “partner,” and Kelly notices it. To hammer the point home, the camera refocuses on a table behind them, where Tina is trying not to look concerned.

Another ill-fated pair – Speaking of Tina’s table, Helena is there now, dealing with her own blast from the past. Alice reveals that Dylan referred to Helena as “the love of her life.”

Jenny: Helena. What can we offer you in the way of protection?

Whoa. It’s the gay mafia all of a sudden. Don’t take her up on that, Helena! Dylan’s going to end up in Jenny’s attic, tied to a mattress made of rejection letters and subsisting on the macaroni art Jenny made in second grade.

Helena pooh-poohs it all and insists she’s fine. Never mind that hungry look in her eyes as Tina talks about Dylan.

Tina: She’s been living in San Francisco. She moved back to L.A. because her dramatic short got accepted into Outfest.

Alice: Oh, that’s rich. So she’s a gay filmmaker now?!

That’s not what I got stuck on – she moved to L.A. just because her short film is in a festival? That’s like me saying, “Well, I have a conference in Chicago next month – better put the house on the market!”

Tina hands Dylan’s business card to Alice, who then hands it to Tasha. Tasha reads it aloud – “Do Ask, Do Tell Productions” – then tears the card in half and puts it on a saucer. Gee, I wonder if that’s the last we’ve seen of that card?

They all decide Helena needs somebody to love. So they try to think of someone to set her up with.

Jenny: Jodi!

Alice: What is this, recycling? Plastic/paper lesbians? Someone new, someone fresh.

Someone cris-pay, maybe?

They continue to mentally go through their Rolodexes (lesbodexes?). Tasha finally suggests Jamie, the woman from the Gay and Lesbian Center. Alice loves this idea so much, she decides to call Jamie right then and there. During the conversation, Helena clears some dishes from the table, including the one that served as the not-quite-final resting place of Dylan’s torn-up business card. Look at that: the card has just found its way into Helena’s bosom! Just like Dylan herself would like to.

Taking out the trash – At their humble abode, Jenny has talked Shane into doing some clutter-clearing.

Jenny: It’s a really good thing to do when you’re starting a new project or a new relationship.

Shane: Or when you wanna get rid of your s—.

So they start by putting some of Jenny’s clothes into a garbage bag. Remember when Tim threw Jenny’s garbage bag of clothes onto the lawn in front of this very house? Good times.

Jenny tells Shane to choose something to throw out, but Shane doesn’t really think it’s her “place” to tell Jenny what to toss and what to keep.

Jenny: Of course it’s your place! Just tell me what represents a facet of my personality that I should just be getting rid of.

Shane laughs and says, “That’s a tricky question.” And that’s the understatement of the year! Check the labels on the clothes, Shane – maybe some of them say “narcissist” or “dog-killer” or “carnival-flashback-haver” or “Yeshiva stripper” or “manatee interpreter.” Those are the “facets” I’d like to purge from this diamond in the rough. For starters.

Jenny chucks some shoes that remind her of the Tim years. Shane tries to play along; she tentatively selects a scarf that makes her think of the time Jenny eloped. But Jenny decides to keep it because it reminds her of Marina.

Shane: Oh, Jesus, Marina.

Jenny: No, seriously. She was my first love.

Shane: And no one understood why.

They didn’t? Hmm. I thought they did. Never mind; I’m going to start invoking a new rule. I’m calling it the WHY-I-I rule: What Happened Yesteryear Is Irrelevant. It’s the only way we’re going to make it through this season.

Jenny begs Shane to identify some other things she should get rid of.

Shane: I don’t believe in changing people.

Jenny: Please.

Shane finally complies. She steps into the closet and picks up a box.

Shane: Oh, this s—. You never use this.

Jenny: No, my art supplies! No way! Do you know that one day a foundation is gonna want all these little bits and pieces?

Shane: Picasso, you haven’t used these since we’ve been living together.

Picasso? I think you mean Monet. Jenny puts the art supplies back where they belong. So Shane points to an article of clothing, and when Jenny refuses to throw that out too, Shane just leaves.

Wait for me, Shane! This possessions-as-personality thing is too much for me, especially because I don’t know what my tendency to hoard twist-ties says about me. I just never know when I might need one.

Next door – Bette and Tina are packing for their trip to meet the natal Nevadan. But they’re discussing something much less heartwarming: Bette’s proposed partnership with Kelly. Tina’s simply not OK with it.

Bette: You know what, Tina? I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life on probation. I’m just not.

Tina: [thinking] You’re right. I’m sorry.

She is? You are? Well. I’m so glad we settled all that, then!

That lasts for about 20 seconds, or however long it takes to decide how many books and bears Angie needs for the trip. Then Tina gets right back to the heart of the matter, which is that she wishes Bette had discussed the big career move with her first.

Tina: It’s a huge decision, you getting back into the gallery business.

Bette: I know, but it’s what I’ve always loved the most.

Tina: I know, I know. It’s just … it’s really scary right now. You know, with the house under construction … and my job’s not exactly secure.

But Bette thinks it’s actually the perfect time for this sort of opportunity to come along. In her mind, it’s a wise business decision – and only a business decision.

Bette: And if you don’t believe that, then … I suggest you come up with a better solution.

Oh. A solution to what, exactly? To Bette’s need to feel important? To Bette’s need to feel in control? To one of Bette’s needs, I’m pretty sure – I don’t think there are really any other problems to address at the moment. Tina must agree with me, because she just walks away.

De-dykorating – Shane and Jenny are now in Shane’s room. Shane points out that she gave away most of her stuff last year, when she donated to the APLA. But Jenny finds a few more things she’d like to get rid of, including a T-shirt with the WAX logo on it.

Jenny: This is from that horrible Paige era.

Shane agrees to let that go. Whatever happened with that, anyway – Wax melted, Shane decided not to investigate, and that was it? Another mystery left unsolved, I guess. We’re all going to end up with an L Word—induced form of Tourette’s: years from now, we’ll randomly shout out, “Who killed Jenny?” or “Who burned down Wax?” or “Didn’t Alice used to be bisexual?” And that’s why we must all make the WHY-I-I rule our prime directive. Your battered brain cells will thank you.

Jenny also finds a shirt that belonged to Cheri Jaffe. Shane doesn’t seem quite as happy to let that one go, and she draws the line when Jenny tries to toss out Carmen’s T-shirts.

Shane: I wanna have some sort of remembrance of her, however small.

Jenny: Why? That’s the old Shane. You know, the one that couldn’t honor her commitments. You’re not like that anymore.

Shane gives Jenny a look that says, “You’re sweet, but come on.”

Jenny: What?

Shane: I’m not throwing her away. OK?

Yes. That is definitely OK. Actually, that is completely and fully mandatory.

An airport – Bette and Tina have arrived in Nevada. Ugh, even the slightest glimpse of an airport makes me tired (and makes me check for liquids and gels on my person). And Bette and Tina are exhausting me too, with all their squabbling. Tina finally blurts out what’s bothering her:

Tina: Your sister said that you almost killed yourself over her.

Bette: What? That’s a complete exaggeration. And it was, like, I dunno, over 15 years ago.

Try not to count the years, Bette. It’s only gonna hurt.

Bette: Wasn’t there somebody that you wanted to kill yourself over in the last 15 years? I’m sure there was.

Bette says this off-handedly and Tina shakes her head. But I’m pretty sure that if Tina were to answer this question seriously, she’d say, “Yes. You.”

Angie rescues everyone with her adorableness:

Angie: The taxi. Mommy, the taxi.

Her sweetness reminds Bette and Tina what love is.

The taxi queue manager dude doesn’t care how cute their kid is or how good their kisses are: “You people want your taxi or what?” As Snarker said, he’s the only guy in America who didn’t want to witness that.

The Habanero Cafe – Shane is taking a last few puffs from a cigarette as she arrives for a lunch date. She sits down to a giddy and distracted Alice, who (despite not having smoked anything, as far as we know) feverishly describes the plans for dinner with Jamie and Helena. Nutloaf is on the menu.

Alice: Isn’t that weird, though, that we’re both vegetarian?

Shane: Uh … you’re not a vegetarian.

Alice: I have been eating so many vegetables lately. Like, extra vegetables.

Shane sarcastically calls this “cute,” and they both agree that Helena and Tasha aren’t vegetarians either. OK, so, one out of four. Close enough.

Alice: Everyone’s coming over ’cause we’re all broke.

Shane: Helena’s not broke.

Alice: But Jamie’s not a gold digger, like Dylan, so that’s why we’re not eating out.

Huh? Logic has never been Alice’s strong suit, but this is bordering on Björk-ish. Alice says she’s just excited about her “new friend,” but it’s as clear to Shane as it is to us: Alice is besotted with Jamie. Tsk-tsk.

Before Shane can tease Alice, though, Jenny arrives. She wasn’t invited, but she didn’t have anything better to do, and surely they don’t mind, do they?

Jenny: [kissing Shane] Were you smoking?

Shane: No.

Jenny: Really?

Shane: Really.

Just keep working on that blank look, Shane. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.

Nevada – At the potential birth mother’s house, Bette, Tina and Angelica are greeted by a snarling dog. They get past that obstacle, only to find that the birth mother’s parents are something less than … well, just generally less than. It’s like a parallel universe version of Juno, and not in a good way – in a way that’s not any fun at all.

The half-witted parents start off by asking Bette and Tina who “the mother” is.

Tina: We both are.

Mr. Moron: [snickering] I’d like to know how that works.

Bette: Well, Tina gave birth to her.

Mrs. Moron: Really? Oh … I woulda thought it was you. You’re just more …

Let me finish that thought for you, ma’am: Just more black. There’s none more black in this room, as they might say on Spinal Tap.

Bette: Well, that’s why we chose an African-American donor, so that she would look like both of us.

Mr. Moron: Well, how does she look like [pointing to Tina] her?

The birth mom interrupts, begging him to stop.

Bette: Marci, it’s OK.

But the expression on Marci’s face says that it’s definitely not OK. It gets even less OK as Mrs. Moron tries to work out where Angie’s father is.

Mrs. Moron: Are you, uh, still together with the father?

Tina: [confused] No.

Bette: He was just a donor. I adopted Angelica from birth.

Mrs. Moron: [trying to get it] OK. But you’re married.

Bette launches into a little speech about marriage rights and how they should be federal and fully equal, and she’d probably keep nervously (and cutely) chattering about it for several more minutes, if it weren’t for Tina’s calm interruption.

Tina: [softly] Sweetie, I think she’s asking if you’re married to a man.

Bette: [whispering] You’re kidding.

Marci decides to intervene.

Marci: Mom, they’re together with each other. Like, they’re a couple.

Mrs. Moron: And you knew that?

Marci: Yeah. It’s my choice, mom.

Mrs. Moron: The hell it is. You move outta here and you take care of your own kids, then it’s up to you.

Mr. Moron: I think it’s time for both of you to go.

Well, that went well! Where are Allison Janney and J.K. Simmons when you need them?

Making dinner – At Alice’s place, Jamie and Alice are preparing the nutloaf. Alice is still giddy and goofy and very obviously smitten. They get to know each other: Jamie comes from a long line of cops, but only lasted for about six months as a cop herself. So now she serves in a different way, and she thinks maybe Alice should “serve” at the Gay and Lesbian Center too. Alice says she’ll think about it. You know, when she’s not so busy thinking about what Jamie looks like naked.

Alice starts to chop nuts one by one, so Jamie teaches her the “trick” of putting them in a plastic bag and crushing them all at once with a rolling pin (or bottle of wine, if that’s what you have handy). Isn’t it nutty that they’re flirting over a bag of nuts? Nutty and, well, kinda s–tty. Jamie seems pretty great, but I still have my cap set for Talice.

Jamie confesses that she’s nervous, and for a moment it looks like Alice wants to say, “me too,” but then she figures out that Jamie is talking about Helena. Sigh. Can I just get a bag of nuts to go, please? I’ve pretty much lost my appetite.

The Hit club – DJ Sunset is holding court on Boys’ Night. That’s right, the floor of the Hit club is covered with man-feet.

Kit: I just love boys’ night. I just love looking at all these beautiful boys.

Sunset: So what put you off men, honey child?

Kit: What didn’t?

Sunset: You got burned?

Kit: Well, when you tangle with a man, you gonna get burned.

OK, what? I mean, I know Kit never gets good lines, but come on! These lines are so underwritten, they’re more like rebuses.

DJ Sunset wants to know where Kit’s “girlfriend” Helena is. Kit, are you still letting him think that you and Helena are a couple? Shame.

Kit: She’s at Alice’s. Alice and Tasha are going to try to get her to get over this Dylan Moreland.

Sunset hopefully asks whether Helena is still hung up on Dylan.

Kit: I hope not. It’ll break my heart.

Sunset: Honey, anybody who messes with Kit Porter’s heart gonna have to answer to Sunset Boulevard. And that is not something I recommend.

Kit: Well, you go on with your bad self.

Forget rebuses; these lines are more like Mad Libs. Want to write some lines for Kit? Do some Kit-a-rific Mad Libs!

[Exclamation], girl! You gonna [verb] your [noun] if you ain’t [adjective] with your [adjective] self!

And you know, [indecipherable slang], the men in this [nonsensical adjective] world, they are [colorful adjective]. And what they do to me, it’s just [mixed metaphor]. And the women, too, they are [spelled-out plural noun]. Mmm, girl!

Alice’s house of hookups – Things are already off to a bad start. As Tasha and Jamie get things ready, Alice greets Helena at the door. Helena and Jamie proceed to say exactly opposite things about Runyon Canyon – Jamie loves it; Helena hates it. I get that this is supposed to be shorthand for “they’re doomed,” but even for shorthand, it’s a little too short.

The Hit club – Tom is wearing a verdant V-necked tee, which makes him look even more like Legolas than usual.

Gimli, er, Max shows up and interrupts the conversation Tom is having with a hunky guy. Yes, Max is jealous, and Tom doesn’t like it at all.

Tom: He was just being friendly. It’s what guys do.

The implication is that Max wouldn’t know what guys do, since he’s not really a guy. Sigh. Even Tom is betraying you, Max. Your hairy face must have come with a hair shirt.

Kit interrupts to break the tension.

Kit: [to Max] Hi, handsome. What’re you drinking?

Max: Mineral water.

Kit: It’s not so bad. Just a few more months, right?

Max: Yeah. Thanks.

I guess Kit has always been the go-to character when someone needs support. It’s not a great substitute for substantive scenes, but it’s something.

Max finds Tom and apologizes.

Max: I’m sorry. All these things are happening to my body, and they totally go against how I feel about myself. I guess I’m just a little scared, OK? I just feel things so intensely. It’s driving me f—ing nuts. But I love you, all right? And I know you’re gonna be a great dad. And I’m really excited to start a family with you.

Tom just sort of stands there and listens. He’s probably still recovering from the plastic vagina trauma. Or the trauma of being on the receiving end of that line delivery.

Getting to like you, getting to hope you like me – Jamie, Alice and Tasha are looking at Alice’s childhood photos. They are, of course, unspeakably cute.

Jamie: Look what a little tomboy you were.

Alice: Oh, yeah, I was.

Tasha: [chuckling] And look how girly she turned out!

Jamie says she wants to have a lot of kids. She asks, “What about you?” without directing the question to anyone in particular. She gets two independent answers, one from Alice and one from Tasha. It’s like each of them is on her own date with Jamie. It’s three dates for the price of one! And the one with Helena doesn’t seem to be turning out so well; she’s standing apart from the others, looking uncomfortable. So Alice tries to bring her into the conversation.

Alice: Helena has kids; she has a boy and a girl.

Helena explains that she doesn’t have custody and sees her kids only every couple of months.

Helena: [My ex] took them and moved to the south of France.

Oh, right; she moved to a charming villa called Oscar Town, right?

Jamie is shocked to hear that Helena sees her children only every couple of months, so Alice quickly changes the subject to which board game they should play. Helena reckons it’s about time she got back to the Hit club. She hastily says her goodbyes and doesn’t even take a nutloaf doggie bag.

After she leaves, Jamie says, “She’s nice” and then shakes her head.

Tasha: [laughing] All right, we tried.

Anything that makes you laugh is OK with me, Tasha.

Do Ask, Do Tell – Surprise, surprise: Helena didn’t go directly to the Hit club. She’s making a pit stop at Dylan Moreland’s house. Helena runs right up to Dylan as if to accost her, and Dylan reacts accordingly.

Dylan: Oh, oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went to the Planet. I just … I’m at a loss, Helena. I don’t know what to do.

Helena: Have dinner with me. I’ll let you know when.

And then Helena runs away again, muttering “fffaahhk.” You said it, sister.

Have you noticed that Dylan always has a silly gape-mouthed expression when she’s startled? That’s how she looked when Alice confronted her on the dance floor, too.

And she always says “Ooh, ooh,” almost like Horshack, or like she’s trying to speak whale.

All kinds of wrong – Jenny has her hands over Shane’s eyes and is leading her to some sort of surprise. You’re not climbing stairs at this moment, are you, Shane? I fear the attic. It haunts me.

It’s not the attic, but it’s close:

Jenny: I turned your bedroom into an office.

Shane: You what?

Jenny explains that she was tired of writing in the kitchen, and this way Shane won’t have to tiptoe around her when she’s writing. It all makes perfect sense.

Shane: Are you testing me? Is that what this is about?

Jenny: Huh?

Shane: Are you putting on the Crazy Jenny Show just to see how far you can push it with me? Is that what this is?

Jenny picks up a box and sullenly starts to “change it back.” Shane stops her and says she doesn’t need to change it back; she just needs to talk to Shane first next time. Jenny starts to mutter to herself and call herself “stupid.” Shane begs her not to get melodramatic. It’s waaaay too late for that, Shane.

Jenny: Do you hate me?

Shane: No.

Jenny: Do you love me?

Shane: I do. I love you. I do.

Why am I so terrified? The attic, it’s right above you! With the note! And the jacket! And Jenny only knows what else!

Cleaning up – Tasha, Alice and Jamie are talking about fund-raising. Alice has some good ideas. She suggests a “dance marathon kind of a thing” in a “cool space like Hit.” Jamie has some ideas, too, like the idea of touching both Alice and Tasha as many times as possible.

She convinces them both to help her plan a dance marathon fund-raiser. Oh, boy.

I just have no idea where this Jamie-Alice-Tasha thing is heading; do you? If I close my eyes, I see the number 3 burned into my eyelids, flaming and flashing and hopping up and down. But I’m sure it’s not related to this.

A fantasy – Back at the Hit club, Kit is wondering why a man can’t just say what’s on his mind. She shares a fantasy with Sunset.

Kit: I was shopping at Gelson’s for groceries, when this straight-up brother comes up to me. No bling, no attitude. And he says to me, “You are one beautiful woman. And I would just love to wake up with your arms and legs wrapped around me.”

Well, I look forward to seeing that in Episode 8. Carry on.

Max’s studio of broken dreams – Tom is tired and Max is mopey.

Max: You looked hot at the club. All those guys were checking you out.

Tom: Guys were checking you out too.

Max: Yeah. They were trying to figure out if I was pregnant or just fat.

Tom is tired of the self-deprecation. As Tom tucks himself into bed and rolls away to face the window, Max gets undressed. He unbinds his breasts. Is there anything sadder than having to reach under your pregnant belly in order to remove your soft pack from your underwear? I guess the only thing sadder is having to recap it.

Max spoons Tom, holding on for dear life.

The Desert Palm Lodge, Nowhere, NV – In a hotel, Bette and Tina are discussing the birth-mom debacle while Angie snuggles with her bear and watches a DVD. Could Angie be any cuter? I still find myself waving at her when she’s on the screen.

Tina tells Bette not to get discouraged; they’ll find the baby who’s meant to be a part of their family.

Bette: I’m just stunned by the ignorance.

Tina: Yeah, well, welcome to the rest of America.

I am officially claiming Stunned by the Ignorance: Welcome to the Rest of America as the working title of my autobiography.

Bette thinks maybe they’ve dodged a bullet: she’s having second thoughts about the adoption in general.

Bette: It just feels like there’re so many things that are out of our control.

And that is probably the first sentence of Bette’s autobiography.

Tina: That’s how it is. Everything’s out of our control.

Does she ever actually hear that, Tina, when you say it? Maybe you should get a T-shirt with that on it.

Bette insists that every baby has a genetic imprint, and she doesn’t want to invite a family history of backwardness into her life or expose Angelica to “that way of thinking.” Well, it’s true that you could end up with a kid who disagrees with every one of your core beliefs (ahem), but that would be possible even if you were to find a parthenogenetic way to have the baby yourselves. Just ask my own trailer-dwelling, narrow-minded family – the genetic imprint doesn’t always take. Not that I don’t love a fresh ear of sweet corn from my Uncle Gus’s field! Darn tootin’. Cornify me!

Tina tries to reassure Bette, but Bette isn’t really looking for reassurance.

Bette: I’m just trying to talk honestly with you. This is my response to what happened today.

Eek. Danger: Processing ahead!

There’s a knock at the door. Bette says, “Who is it?” in this really deep voice that half spooks me and half excites me. But never mind that: the birth mom is at the door, and she has something important to say.

Marci: I’m really sorry about what happened today. My parents don’t approve, but they don’t approve of lots of stuff, so …

Tina: We understand.

Bette: These things happen.

Marci: Yeah. But I really don’t care. I mean, this is my body, and my baby, and my decision, and … you’re the family that I want my baby to go to.

Tina: Are you sure?

Before she answers that, I have to point out that Tina is looking exceptionally good in this scene, with her quirked eyebrow and her total absence of makeup and her cute pajamas. These two are a very lovely couple, even when Bette looks like she’s about to hurl from anxiety.

Tina asks Marci whether she’s met the other couples who are interested in adopting her baby.

Marci: Yeah, I met them. I mean, they’re fine … I just … I don’t like ’em as much as I like you guys. They’re just not as interesting. And this baby, he’s gonna have an interesting life.

Bette: He?

Marci: Yeah. It’s a boy. Which is another reason why I want you to be his parents. ‘Cause this world needs boys who are gonna do things different. And I really want my baby to have a chance at that. At making this world, you know, just a little better.

Hugs and tears all around! Aww. Bette is still kind of freaking out, but in a happier way.

The next morning, Tina reaches for Bette.

Bette: I’m happy.

Tina: Yeah?

Bette: It was just a momentary thing.

“It” is probably more than the baby freak-out – I think “It was just a momentary thing” should be Bette’s new mantra. Bette takes Tina’s hand and caresses it.

Bette: We’re gonna have a baby.

Sigh. I can’t help it: I still want the happily-ever-after ending for these two. I have been completely suckered in. I should duck, right?

Same morning, different sucker – Max awakens to find he’s alone in the bed. Yikes – why are his feet so filthy? I guess he really is Dan Haggerty now. He’s been sleepwalking with grizzly bears.

Accompanied by the strained strains of “Another One” by Betty, Max goes to the wardrobe and flings it open. It’s half empty. And the door to his studio is wide open, too. Jeez, Tom – you couldn’t even close up shop behind you?

Max stands in the doorway and stares out into his empty future. Poor Max. Like the Betty song in the background is saying, “Here comes another one to live through.” Luckily, there are only four more to live through! Let’s wash our feet and meet Kit for some nonalcoholic beverages and Mad Libs. [Forceful transitive verb] this show!

Next time on The L Word: Jenny sells a script; Niki is back on the prowl; the group puts Dylan to the test.

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