We’ve known each other for a couple years now. It’s been great. Really, it has. In fact, I can still remember the first time I saw you. I was flipping through the channels at Jenny’s place and stumbled upon a mini-marathon of episodes from your first season. I mocked you for about five minutes before deciding you were the most awesome show on TV.
How deep was my love? Deeper than the lyrics of a Lincoln Hawk song.
I went so far as to immortalize you in my soon-to-be-bestselling book, quoting your famous “XOXO, Gossip Girl” tagline and then writing: “Man, I really do love that show.” And I did.
But lately, things have changed.
It could be that Jenny Humphrey has gone from Dan’s adorable little sister to a snobby wannabe fashionista to co-winner, along with the smoke monster from Lost, in the race for “most repugnant TV creation of the last decade.”
Maybe it’s because Chuck, whom you cast as the spawn of evil in the first season, now seems to be the only redeeming personality on the whole show, and he’s totally going to get conned by this woman playing his “mom.” (I’m three weeks behind on the DVR, so maybe she does, in all actuality, check out; the truth is, I kinda don’t care.)
I’m sick of your narrator; it’s like listening to Yoda, if Yoda ditched the sense of purpose and quirky sentence structure and replaced them with a Birken bag and some Manolos. And frankly, I don’t even know how she’s supposed to exist anymore because no one seems to be tipping Gossip Girl about anything.
Most of all, though, I can’t take Serena van der Woodsen. You know why her dad left? She’s terrible. She needs to watch the episode of Seinfeld where George decides to do the opposite because every instinct she’s ever had is wrong. The affair with the married senator wasn’t about true love? I was as shocked as she was.
Run while you still can, Nate. Then again, that relationship should die of natural causes; wherever Serena goes, highly inexplicable drama is sure to follow.
Whoa, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to get belligerent. What I meant to say was: It’s not you; it’s me.
Because even though your characters exist in a world that doesn’t resemble anything I know as reality, their fickleness and ridiculous behavior probably isn’t all that far-fetched. Teenagers, after all, don’t have the reputation of being the most logical creatures in the world, and giving them access to obscene amounts of money figures to make the bad apples among them rot even a little quicker.
So, I’m not telling you to stop being true to yourself; I’m just saying I can’t keep coming along for the ride.
PS—Is it cool if we still hook up sometimes in the summer when everything else is in reruns?