Really, Downton Abbey?

This post contains spoilers. Big, juicy fat ones. There’s a certain Abbey- of the Downton kind that’s kind of got some of us in a kind of emotional bondage. You know who you are. I entered the game a little late, but I’m all up to date now and I’ve got some venting to do.

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Again, I repeat: If you haven’t seen Downton Abbey or have started to play catch up like I was, save this for after you’ve finished Season 3. If you don’t care about it, then by all means read and make fun of me for being obsessed about a fictional show. But, if you are sympathetic to my emotional plight regarding said show, when you do finally see it I will offer you my handkerchief. Because that what you used in 1921 when you needed to blow your nose or dry your tears. Or, as my son says, when your face “leaks”.

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Okay, are they gone? DA graduates of all three seasons are you ready for some incoherent drivel?

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Jason and I have been wanting to watch the series for a while now, but never had the time when it came on PBS. Actually we haven’t had a show that we watch besides Hoarders and Ghost Hunters ever! We stopped the Office after Michael left and just had been watching reruns of sitcoms and the occasional documentary when we did watch TV. Now that we ditched Dish and have streaming TV/movies we were able to watch all 3 seasons of Downton within a months time. And we were hooked. It became even more addictive because we didn’t have to wait like everyone who started from when the series originally started in 2010. Usually we’d watch two episodes a night for a few weeks, one night we sat there for three episodes straight- but we’re not taking it to an unhealthy level or anything.

No, sitting at lunch together talking about the characters like they are our friends and wondering if Mr. Bates will ever get out of prison or how we wish Jane would hit the road, or was Patrick Gordon really who he said he was and will Edith ever find a man or how hilarious we find Mrs. Patmore and the witty Dowager Countess…that’s all normal couple conversation.

I finished the last episode with the husband last night. I can’t say I’m in a good mood today. I feel like I bit the reception lady’s head off today about making me fill out more paper work on the kids when I wanted to say, “I know it’s not your fault, this is stupid, I’ll do it, but I’m also crabby because I’m mourning the loss of my TV boyfriend who’s laying dead on the side of the road. Give me a break.” Why Julian Fellowes, why? Why Dan Stevens, why!? I actually don’t blame either of them. Some people have it in for Dan Stevens for not renewing a contract for Season 4, but it is his life, he just had his second baby with his wife and they are moving to the US for some new opportunities. And what was Julian Fellowes supposed to do? Hold him at gun point? Perhaps they all knew that without the suspenseful “will they ever get together” drama happening between Matthew and Mary their story line would never be as interesting. So, Julian,  you have him drive home after the happiest moment of his life, seeing his little baby boy, the next heir to Downton, and he wasn’t even texting or anything – he was smiling and looked at a tree I guess, and BAM! A work truck was coming in the opposite direction. This is why Mr. Fellowes should have ended with them in the hospital, new baby and all, happy, the end. We all go home happy and watch all three seasons over again and continue to be entertained because the characters and their stories are so interesting. But no. You make me go to bed with images of a lifeless Matthew Crawley with blood dripping from his head while Mary holds their newborn back in her hospital bed and all the rest of the family happily gathers and waits in the parlor room in the Abbey talking about how wonderful things are going now after going through a horrible war, multiple scandals in the house and the death of Lady Sybil. You make me use run on sentences to describe the last scene of this episode.

And how did I know about Dan Steven’s plans?  Because I googled Downton Abbey. When did I do this? One day as I approached the end of Season 2. Tragic. So all of Season 3 I knew he was probably going to be killed off. And though Facebook statues during the finale were not all telling, I knew it would happen during the finale because of all the “NOOOOOO!”s and “What??????!!!!!!”s. So as we watched it last night all I could do was wait for the hammer to fall on poor young Mr. Crawley. And sit through over the top gushiness between he and Mary because the writers certainly knew what was going to happen and wanted to make sure all the female viewers were completely satisfied that they loved each other and ended on a good note. I wouldn’t say lying dead in a ditch is the best note in the world. Just my opinion.

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Or we can forget about this tragedy for now and just play cut out dolls and remember the good old days of Mr. Pamuk dying in Mary’s bed or when we thought Matthew would never walk again but he did because of Mary’s good luck stuffed dog. That’s what that thing is, right? Because surely a little stuffed animal will save you from getting spinal injurys in the trenches of World War I. It worked for Matthew. But he can’t survive a car wreck!!? Well, that didn’t distract me long from remembering my sorrow. Sigh.

I love Downton Abbey! I hate Downton Abbey! I heart Downton Abbey! Stupid Downton Abbey! watchingDownton

Why is it playing games with my heart? How in the world will they carry on in Season 4? They will be amazing writers if they are able to help us move on past two major deaths and be able to root for another suitor for Mary- as cold and as snarky as she can be. I say her and Tom should just bond over losing spouses and raise their kids together. We’ll see. I certainly want to see Isobel change her mind about Dr. Clarkson. How cute was that. Anyway, back to feeling blue about my TV boyfriend.

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Goodbye noble, sweet Matthew. Never again will you read the Yorkshire Observer at breakfast with Edith, Tom and Daddy in-law.

Maybe a cuppa will help me feel better.

No, probably not.

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