Lost is on tonight Lost is on tonight LOST IS ON TONIGHT!
Yeah, I'm a little excited. John makes fun of me endlessly for that, because when it first came out, I scoffed. Can you believe that? I actually scoffed. I thought it was another Survivor reality show.
Forgive me, Oh, Lord, I knew not what I was thinking.
This is how it works: John finds some groovy new show he wants to watch, sometimes with some level of science or science fiction, or God Forbid, Math, as is the case of Numb3rs. (I can't do the backward three, so that spelling will have to suffice.) I scoff, heartily, but I watch it with him anyway, despite the fact that we have another tv and if I really wanted to, I could watch something else by myself. But. This is our thing; we watch tv together. It's very interactive, actually, with much speculation going on as to the next move of the onscreen characters.
Wow. When I really describe it that way, I realize the phrase "needing to get out more" was actually coined just for us. But I digress.
So I scoff. Then I watch one or two episodes. Then (which you'll see coming but only if you're really, really smart) I get hooked. Then I become one of those obnoxious fans that speculates as to the next move of the onscreen characters.
"Oh my God. He is totally going to keep that secret from Kate. Can you believe that? Can you believe Sawyer would do that? I mean, here we thought he was this sleazeball who couldn't care less, but really he's a nice guy. This is so awesome. But what about Jack?!"
All this, mind you, is coming out of my mouth, not my husband's. Who is no doubt thinking, "Please shut up just please stop talking I'm trying to watch the show Oh my GOD why do you think I pick shows I think you won't like I just want one minute's peace I'm so tired please make it stop."
But. I still think he'd prefer I enjoy the show, because when I don't? It's so much worse--then I make fun of it while he's trying to watch.
"Are you kidding me? You don't honestly expect us to believe that a nuclear bomb could be smuggled under a woman's maternity dress, all the way into the Super Bowl, without anyone so much as picking up on it, anyone at all, along the way? This is so ridiculous. I want some ice cream, do you want some ice cream?"
Adult ADD. Get diagnosed.
Meanwhile, back in John's head, "Oh my God she's driving me crazy didn't husbands drink in bars in the 50s like every night? I think I'm just going to start going out with the men every night to the corner bar because at least in a noisy bar full of men I could have some PEACE AND QUIET BECAUSE SHE'S DRIVING ME INSANE."
He adores me.
Aaaaanyway. Lost is on tonight and I'm so very excited, because in addition to getting to watch one of our favorite shows, it takes place on a tropical island so we can escape for an hour and pretend it's all hot and we're at the beach. Surrounded by a bunch of freaks called The Others who like to taunt and torture us, and a random assortment of ill-placed wild animals, horses, polar bears, and some large dark freaky thing that casts big shadows of doom.
I can't wait. Pass the sunblock.