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“Exes & Ohs” recap 206: “The Happy Homemaker vs. The Cougar”

Previously: Sam agreed to move in with Dr. Know-it-all, even though she suspects she’s only being loved for her body. Kris and Chris decided to forego advice from others and wing it, baby-wise. And Jen broke up with Gillian, only to come this close to kissing Sam.

We pick up right where we left off last week with Jen and Sam sitting on the floor of Jen’s apartment, their faces gravitating toward each other like magnets with lips. And then-

And they’re not even drunk.

Jen and Sam pull away from each other and immediately start babbling.

Sam: What the hell was that?

Jen: Such a bad idea.

Sam: That was terrible. What were we thinking?

Jen: Probably good that we did that because now we never have to wonder, “Well, if we did that, then what?”

Sam: Right. Did you notice how there was nothing there?

Jen: Yeah. Totally nothing. Nothing at all!

Sam: I’m so glad that’s behind us.

Jen: Ya know? Let’s agree to never speak of this.

Yeah, if there’s one thing lesbians are really good at, it’s not processing stuff.

Jen and Sam run as fast as they can in opposite directions: Jen tells the dean of the university that she wants to be put on every committee they have, and Sam tells Elizabeth she’s going to be a packing and moving maniac. Idle lesbian hands are the devil’s playthings. Keeping busy while harboring unrequited feelings explains the surfeit of homemade dreamcatchers in lesbian homes.

Meanwhile, Kris and Chris are getting an ultrasound. Kris tells the doctor to keep the baby’s sex to herself. “What if she just tells me?” offers Chris.

I hope the baby inherits Kris’s amazing, ice blue eyes and Chris’s sardonic wit. Or at least turns out pretty, smart and cool. Perhaps they can just reverse engineer Emma Stone. Are we there yet?

Instead of building dreamcatchers, Sam is taking her mind off of Jen’s kisses by trying to summon her inner domestic goddess. This doesn’t work because A) the kiss wasn’t really “nothing,” and B) Sam can’t cook to save her life. Sam realizes she’s a disaster because she can’t concentrate. She plops down and dials Jen’s landline. Landline? How retro.

That, or she’s calling her coke dealer.

While her home phone is ringing, Jen is busy with the dean of her school, pitching student interviews for her documentary and getting on more committees than Al Franken. Satisfied that she now has enough meetings to keep her away from Sam’s pouty mouth through 2030, Jen turns to leave, but is stopped by the dean’s cute assistant, Amy.

Amy suggests that instead of interviewing college kids about dating, Jen observe them in their natural habitat and invites her to a frat party. Actually, she’s asking Jen out on a date. “You are gay, right?” she chirps, eyelashes batting.

Jen looks down at her v-neck sweater and blazer and asks, “Do I seem gay to you?” Amy squeaks out a laugh, that way co-eds are known to do. I feel old.

Just then, Sam calls Jen’s cell. Jen’s not ready to process, so she pretends she’s taking her students out for coffee and can’t talk right now. Amy smiles sweetly as Jen pretends to be calling out to her students, “I’ll be right there!” and hangs up. Suddenly motivated to avoid Sam, Jen agrees to whoop it up at the frat house, much to Amy’s cougar-loving delight.

Over at Kris and Chris’s house, the ladies are calculating how much this baby is going to cost them. It’s not a pretty financial picture. Kris thinks that before they pour their last dime into a child, they should first get married. Chris isn’t overjoyed with the idea because she can only handle one huge, life-changing event at a time.

“First baby, then marriage,” she says firmly. Who does she think she is? Angelina Jolie?

Meanwhile, Jen is doing a crappy job of avoiding Sam, who knows her haunts and habits all too well. At the Beever Café, Jen hides behind a newspaper as Sam stares at her.

The only thing Inspector Clouseau is missing are holes cut out for her eyes. But nice try.

Sam wants, nay, needs to talk about what happened but Jen refuses. Sam wonders if she should tell Elizabeth. That is a Big Red No, too. Jen knows that can only end badly. Elizabeth will act weird around her. She won’t get to see Sam anymore. She’ll lose her best friend. Tell Elizabeth? Not in this economy.

Jen does not want to speak of it, and says in no uncertain terms, “It didn’t mean anything.” Nothing hurts a girl more than being told her kisses are snoozers.

Later that night, Jen is on her date with Amy at Theta Eta Nu Pi. You remember Theta don’t you? She’s the campus slut.

Anywho, Jen is being her usual dork self, dancing the Funky Chicken and drinking anything put under her nose. Amy yells over the din, “The last cougar I been out with didn’t drink! This is awesome!” She begs Jen to get up and play some Rock Band for her.

While Jen jams out with her clam out for her superfan, Sam is home, greeting Elizabeth in a slinky LBD, motioning to some candles and a KFC family meal. Elizabeth is romanced for all of two minutes, until she notices that Sam’s only moved in two more small boxes. What gives?

Sam blows off the moving-in topic and offers a delightful evening of eating quickly and going to bed. To sleep. But nothing’s wrong.

Across town, Kris is trying to convince Chris that a $500 wedding reception DJ is a bargain. “Only five hundred?” Chris exclaims, “We could get Devin to DJ for only a beer.” Good point. But poor Devin. She gets put to work more than Lilo’s defense attorney does.

Kris describes her dream wedding as “different”: an officiant, a tier cake and an open bar. When Kris says “different,” she means “every wedding you’ve ever been to.”

Over at Animal House, Amy is hot for teacher, but Jen is wary about their age diff. Wise beyond her years, Amy says she knows Jen is only on their date to take her mind off “some other girl” and she’s totes OK with that.

Later in Amy’s dorm room, Jen realizes she’s in bed with one of the Powerpuff girls. This is never going to work.

So, long, Lolita.

The next day at the Beever, Sam is avoiding Jen’s calls by giving Kris some good insight: Chris probably wants a small ceremony for just the two of them, and not a catered affair under a gauzy tent. Kris say, “You’re right!” Solving other people’s problems is so much easier than dealing with your own. Which is why your therapist might be more effed up than you. Just saying.

After Sam and Kris take their coffee and leave, Chris comes into the café. Thanks to Devin’s eavesdropping and powers of deduction, she learns that her pregnant partner only wants a wedding to affirm their commitment to each other. And hello? Hormones! Whatever Devin makes, it’s not enough.

Chris goes to see Kris at work, where the two decide there’s more than one way to get married, and there’s more than one way to share and give. Kris thinks yes, just like there’s more than one way to load a dishwasher. No, there’s not! Bowls do not go on the top rack! Sheesh. How many times do I have to say it?

Also, thanks to Devin’s big mouth, Jen finds out that Sam is on her way to Elizabeth’s office and rushes off to find her. As Jen confronts Sam on the sidewalk, Elizabeth happens by a window and sees them arguing heatedly. She goes outside and orders them to come upstairs. Little Dr. Bossypants.

Once there, Jen and Sam sit apart and stare at their shoes like two delinquents in the principal’s office. With Elizabeth’s eyes boring holes into Sam’s skull, Sam cracks.

Sam: I kissed her.

Jen: Actually, I kissed her. It wasn’t her fault.

Sam: There was no fault. It just happened.

Jen: It meant nothing.

Sam: It was just one of those things. Hey, you can trust me.

Jen: You can trust her. Even if she wanted me, which she doesn’t, I don’t want her.

Sam: She doesn’t want me!

Elizabeth knows instinctively this is not one of Old Sam’s casual quickies. It’s her best friend. Who’s still in the room. Elizabeth shoots her a “don’t you have somewhere to be?” look. Jen skulks out.

Meanwhile, Kris has blindfolded Chris and driven her into the mountains. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asks. Chris replies, “How would I know?” Awesome.

Kris lifts the blindfold to reveal one of their old favorite spots. She remembered their special place. Aw. Mother Nature really is the best set designer. Kris drops to one knee as Chris smiles and gasps, “Oh my god.”

As one couple becomes more entwined, another is unraveling. In Elizabeth’s office, Sam tells her that wanting a broken bad girl to fix, needing someone to need her, is not love. Elizabeth stares at her like this is breaking psychology news to her. Where did she go to school anyway?

Sam believes the reason she kissed Jen was because it felt good to really be seen and understood. (Ironically, this seems to be something Elizabeth sucks at, considering her profession.) Jen sees Sam for who she is today: New Sam. And Jen likes New Sam just fine. And so does Sam. Elizabeth lets a tear roll down her face as she realizes Sam is really done.

Sam doesn’t need fixing anymore. What she needs are cooking lessons.

Out on Brokeback Mountain, Chris tells Kris she never imaged that women could marry other women. And then when it became real, she assumed she’d be the one proposing. But she likes this version even better. Someone call Devin. She has a DJ gig in her future.

Sam returns to her old apartment to find Jen sitting on her front steps, drinking beer and waiting for her. From the look on Sam’s face, it’s clear she and Elizabeth are no more. She’s moving back home. Jen hands Sam her beer. They sit in silence, staring at their dork feet.

Next week: Wedding preparations stress out the brides, mostly because Sheila’s back in town. Jen reconnects with an ex at the wedding. Sam goes through the only dry spell she’s ever known, forcing her to make a stunning confession.

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