Mad Men s4e13: Tomorrowland

“But I think, in my heart, it was an impulse. Because I knew what I needed to do to move forward.”

Ahh, the curveball season finale. As we all know, Don Draper is the reigning king of the fresh start, always moving forward and all that garbage. But life really isn’t conducive to clean slates as Henry makes crystal clear to Betty, along with those of us living on planet earth know intrinsically. One of the show’s central themes is prominent in this episode.. can people really change? Or is it all just a blip?

image courtesy of IMDB

This is and is not the Don Draper we’ve gotten to know throughout the series thus far. When it looks like he’s going to come to terms with his own identity in some meaningful way, he veers sharply left (and imitates Roger by making an impetuous and capricious move) and proposes to Megan. The hell? True to form, I guess.

Betty certainly thought her life would change when she married Henry. Sure, things are different, but it’s not all that she envisioned. As her journey continues, she’s learning that life is less and less the ideal iconography she was pitched and the only thing you can really control is your perspective.

Bets, you can move out of your house and leave Ossining, but your problems are gonna follow ya if you don’t look inward and work on that shit. Her fresh start with Henry hasn’t radically changed her nor her life, and a new house in Rye won’t do that either. At least she’s with a man who will communicate with her exactly what is wrong with her actions, and call her out on her bullshit instead of just disappearing, but it’s up to her to do the work.

Now that Don’s not around to blame for her erratic/childish behaviour, she’s gotta learn to adapt and be an adult. Henry has precisely no time for her impulsive shitfit re:Glen and Sally being friends which is probably for the best. Firing Carla inadvertently draws Don closer to Megan too, ha.

And man, Faye didn’t deserve such shit treatment. She really got a raw deal, but I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. Don lost interest episodes ago, and it doesn’t look like he was ever really that into her; she’s not the right person for him. But getting some fucking phone call like “oh yeah bee-tee-dubs I met someone and am suddenly engaged PEACE” is crushing, but she blasts him with a truth H-Bomb before hanging up.

“I hope she knows you only like the beginnings of things.”

image courtesy of Imgur

Let’s be real, the Hobo Code stuck with him. Dude is always looking to hop that midnight train going anywhere; Faye represents facing his issues and working through his Dick Whitman/desertion garbage feelings like a real life person, whereas Megan represents a clean slate and bright-eyed optimism that only youth can foster. Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s signed on for..

I’m drawn back to the season premiere, and that reporter snapping Don out from his thoughts; “Who is Don Draper?” Good question. He’s tried to make himself a better man this season, but suddenly jerks to the crutch of the Fresh Start(TM) personified, Megan. The first time I watched this finale, that ending gave me whiplash– but going back and examining the earlier episodes, it adds up pretty neatly. All along there were these little snippets planted that she’s the shining star for Don; the Pond’s focus group, being naturally nurturing to Sally, actually getting what The Letter was about.. etc. The pieces are all there.

Megan’s on the level. Maybe she’ll be the one to accept Don for who he really is, to love Dick Whitman and all that mess entails, allowing him to get on with it sans too much manpain. And hey, maybe he’ll do it right. He tells her he feels like “himself” around her, the best version of the man he aspires to be in the day to day. Maybe she’ll coax more of that out into the open.

At the end of the day, Don is someone who needs to be needed, and Faye didn’t really deliver that; Megan does just that little bit. He also needs someone who will nurture his kids in the way that Betty simply can’t at this point, in a way that he’s unable to as well; since he grew up with no loving mother figure, seeing that in Megan is magnetic.

image courtesy of Slant Magazine

She also didn’t have a fucking meltdown over a spilled milkshake, which Betty certainly would have done. Between Megan’s sunniness and Don’s slight ability to even acknowledge his past to Sally (“that’s my nickname sometimes” re:Dick and Anna on the wall) and have it go well, Don seems on top of the world.

It’s an optimistic ending for a season fraught with such darkness, yet I can’t help but wonder how pristine that slate will stay as lives move on. Fundamentally, people don’t change– not wholly.

Peggy and Joan share a moment over the absurdity of the engagement; Peggy signed the first bit of new business with Topaz that day, but natch.. that’s not as important as getting married. Those dudes are all just between marriages, after all.

image courtesy of Roger Ebert

And it didn’t slide past Roger that Don did the exact thing he was judged harshly for back in Season 2, either. Granted, Roger reacts much better than Don ever did— and there’s absolutely fuckall Don can quip back about it.

Don and Betty have one last encounter in the house on Bullet Park Road, and it’s a bittersweet adieu. It’s also one of those rare moments where she softens towards Don, and they have an easy interaction; she’s vulnerable about how things aren’t ideal in her life. Don lets her know that he’s engaged, and even in her sensitive state, Betty manages to not say anything shitty which is pretty good progress.

She does ask if it’s to Bethany Van Nuys, and Don is essentially like “WHO??

image courtesy of Tom + Lorenzo

Adios, house; thanks for the memories. Onto the next one.

The finale closes with Sonny & Cher’s “I Got You Babe” as Don stares off into the void, his new fiancée asleep on his chest. Natch, the first thing I thought of was the always relevant Groundhog Day, the tale of a man trapped in a fucking time loop with endless fresh starts as he relives the same day over and over.

And once he gets it right, he breaks the loop and can live happily ever after.. but only after something like 100 goddamned years.

Here’s hoping Don gets his shit together sooner than Bill Murray. As a man who’s started over quite a bit, maybe he’ll stick the landing this time.

That’s a wrap on Season 4, kiddos! Stay tuned for Season 5 reviews, starting soon.. will Don do it right with his marriage this time? Will Pete’s hairline continue to evaporate? Will Peggy be running the place by the time we return? Will trash Greg do the math on Joan’s baby??? Do people really change or is it all just smoke and mirrors?


5 Years in LA: A Rare Personal Post

We create our own demons.

(Yeah, yeah, I know it’s a quote from Iron Man 3, but bear with me here.)

Utah rest stop view. pretty boss.

My 5-year LA-iversary is today, and I felt it fitting to jot some personal nonsense down in here. On this day, I rolled up to my new home and life right around .. now. Living here has been a formative experience, and I was a different person when I pulled out of the driveway of my NJ childhood home in 2011.

Looking back on my 20s and my formative years has always been mortifying, to be completely honest. I read and reflect on the things I used to feel, things I used to care about, and the shit I used to say and how I treated people and I am mostly .. upset. Not that I was ever some monstrous lunatic hellbent on world domination, but I definitely could have treated people with more care. I took things and people for granted, I lived my life recklessly and did whatever whenever (within reason, obvi).

And if I’m being realistic, I don’t regret most of it; after all, that’s what your 20s are for. But if I could go back in a time machine, I’d be kinder. That’s really the only thing I’d change.. more patience, more kindness. It’s one of the notions my mother stressed as The Most Important Things in Life, and of course she’s spot on. I guess being a human dumpster fire was my way of rebelling for whatever unknown reason. Looking back and surveying the damage was daunting.

Now, I know none of this makes me some ~unique snowflake~. Nearly everyone I encounter is horrified by some aspect of their past; I felt the need to write because I’ve never talked publicly about any of this. I play everything pretty close to the chest. I’ve touched on it, sure, but never gone into any sort of detail.

This all started partly because I’ve been getting a lot of emails/actual mail about my 10 year (!) college reunion, which was last weekend. Generally irritating, but also a fact of life; college is a time that I do not wish to be reminded of in the least, but I feel compelled to reflect. I graduated in 2006, and never looked back. Even with my BA in hand, I generally felt like a listless shitperson next to my classmates with business degrees and jobs lined up. Me? I was going to work at The Gap, and take it from there. Christ.

I mostly remember my graduation day as a day of people being mad at me, and they weren’t really wrong for that. I was also voraciously hungover and it was hotter than actual hell outside; one of those thick, soupy-dank east coast summer days.
So! At 22, I had my degree and no real Plan(TM) except to not be in college anymore. I think about the way I avoided everyone and everything on campus after my volatile relationship self-immolated and some tenuous-at-best friendships went south, and I feel mostly embarrassed by it now. I shut out the few friends I had on campus, my lifelong friends from home really didn’t know what was going on either because it was just a goddamned mess. I was friends with some vaguely toxic people, and rolled with the punches.
It was all ~so dramatic~ but it was one of those really intense relationships with a really intense person. Good learning experience, very bad timing and everything else. Everyone’s got one of those people, and it preferably happens in their late teens/early 20s so they can get the fuck on with real life afterwards.
My version of this trope had a bonus; pile on Actual Heavy Things to Deal With as a late teen/early 20-something and it turned into fucking Hiroshima. Truth was I had no clue what the hell I was doing and chose destructive ways to get on with it and move forward because I frankly didn’t know any better.
dog_thisisfinefile footage of me circa 2002-2008. image courtesy of Tumblr


This continued for a bit in some form, then I got a full time job doing tech support for The Fruit Stand, and things seemed to even out for a beat before the roof caved in. When mom died, I was 24 and overall a human mess who was working 70 hours a week.
And then the 2008 stock market implosion happened and I lost that job shortly thereafter, as did most everyone else I knew. I remember it vividly, it all happened over the course of about a month. Everyone seemed shaken, like the earth had suddenly stopped rotating and we all fell over, powerless and drawn back home. Looking back on all that, it was a really healing time for me in the midst of all this massive uncertainty. Tons of people I knew had lost jobs and had to move back to where we grew up, and it became a bizarre remix of high school all over again. Bittersweet, but fun.  I feel like this is what saved me.
During this time, I hung out with some really nice people, reconnected with old friends, and went on some really nice dates, but I was so fucked and in this black hole of a headspace that any perceived kindness sent my way I instinctively read as false; really fucking cringeworthy.

2010 in particular was a strange year of unemployment and anxiety and stress framed with a lot of fun, late nights, and coming back out of my shell thanks to actually being close with people again. Slowly but surely I felt like I had value again, and that I was someone worth knowing.

At this point I was beginning to excavate my core so I could get back to being a Human Lady in a Society of Rules. I had no fucking idea what my next step was, but I knew I needed to change. I started surrounding myself with positive people and genuinely made every effort to be less awful. I axed trash people along the way and felt free.

Moving to Los Angeles has given me the rare gift of forced perspective that I badly needed, and I hope it’s not too late. I laid really good groundwork in NJ, but blasting off out of my comfort zone was that final push I needed to vaguely get my shit together. Or at least impersonate someone who had their shit together.

For all intents and purposes, I’ve lived a charmed life. Nowadays it’s trendy to talk about Privilege(TM), but brass tacks– what could I possibly have been so fucking unhappy about? I grew up in a really great area, surrounded by a rotating cast of good people who stuck by my side for nearly 27 years. I never had anything truly horrendous happen to me, yet I was lost.

I have wonderful parents, a strong family support system, and friends who feel more like family since we all grew up together in multiple senses. And yet, I had this lethargic rancor eating away at me. For whatever reason, in spite of all of this, I shut off at any sign of closeness. Maybe it was the past relationships gone sour, maybe I got too into my own headspace. Maybe I had focused on the wrong things.

It hits me in waves to this day, how many fucking great friends and family I’ve got, how lucky I really am. It sincerely overwhelmed me at the wedding last year, all that love and kindness. Why did I push it away with both hands for so long? The hell was that all about? Awkward.

As I dug deeper, I had longed for something indescribable. I always felt hollow at the end of the day, some static hum. I would stay up all night because the morning sun made me feel better somehow, a habit I picked up in the depth of being a college shithead with too many feelings/no feelings at all. But when I eventually started to turn shit around in 2009 and firmly place my gaze toward what was in front of me, that was the turning point. Suddenly a weight had been lifted, like mom coming back to me and saying, “knock this shit off already and get on with it”. Guess I was finally ready to listen.. and somewhere, mom is replying, “about fucking time”.

Driving out to California was more cathartic than it was intimidating or sad. It’s been a second chance, a clean slate for me. I met my husband here, I’ve been able to start relatively fresh these past 5 years. I’ve been faced with my own bullshit, felt it all, and essentially gotten on with it with confidence. Taking ownership and responsibility for past garbage behaviour has been equal parts humbling and uncomfortable. Shedding any lingering negative people has helped as well.

When Nick and I met at San Diego Comic Con in 2011 and I soon figured out that he was more than some one night rando to add to the carousel, I was objectively fucking terrified. I had a terrible track record with prior relationships, and generally felt inadequate in that regard.

When someone says enough nasty mean-spirited shit to you, friends and exes alike, you start to believe it. I absorbed it all, though I tried my best to be Teflon. But as I reflected and shared all the good, the bad and the ugly with him and received acceptance and love, I was fucking stunned. Everything just turned to colour.

So, what the hell does this all mean? How can I wrap this up neatly? Truth be told, I can’t. Just gotta keep on going.

We create our own demons, but there’s so much more; we’re in charge of our own future. Shape it into whatever the hell you want, and try your damndest to allow the past messes to impact you positively.. and always be kind*. That’s what I’m taking away from it all, and what I’ve been working on this past half decade.


Thanks for reading this mess.


*(unless the person is a maniac asshole, then they should be shot into space.)