Dear Lost, it’s not you it’s me

May 1, 2008

I have broken up with Lost.  Yup.  Splitsville, baby.  It’s all over but the shoutin’ (and the ice cream eatin’).

Let’s face it, Lost has always been the abusive boyfriend of TV shows.  You spend hours and hours analyzing your relationship, going over everything he said, how he looked, boring your friends with ages of pointless discussion after which the dude just throws you a curveball.  Yeah, yeah, he leaves you hanging, sends mixed messages, doesn’t call when he says he will, does completely stupid things and then, every once and a while, does something completely perfect (The Constant, I am referring to you!) and you fall in love all over again.

But those perfect moments are occurring too far apart for me.  Most of the time, I fast forward through the show–passing over Jack’s “smell the fart” acting and mopey, dopey face, pausing only on shirtless Sawyer or shirtless Jin or shirtless Sayeed.  Oh yes, the sex is still good!  Sometimes, I delete the whole thing off of Tivo and just read a recap.  I don’t have room in my life to waste an hour hating every. single. character. and trying to keep up with every dumbass choice they make.  I’m not spending another second playing Highlights Hidden Picture with the smoke monster (honestly, how lame is a smoke monster?  that whispers!  ooooohhhhh it’s Ouiji board spooky!).  I’m not keeping up with stupid fake websites for companies that don’t exist.  I just don’t care anymore.  I hope, hope, hope they are all dead, or in Jack’s coma brain, or something.  I’ll find out when the show’s over.  From TWOP.

So, I’m out there, dating other shows, looking for Mr. Right.  It’s tough, you know?  I don’t think I’ll ever get over Buffy/Angel.  I keep running back to them every year or so, and having the occasional dirty weekend with Firefly or Farscape.  BSG, well, he makes me cry too much–damn EMO drummer.  Dr. Who?  Torchwood?  No depth–all fast cars and hotness.  And Bones?  Well, he’s only around because he looks like Angel.  Desperate Housewives is too girly–totally metrosexual and I think he might be gay.  Ditto Ugly Betty. 

If you’ve got anybody to fix me up with, just let me know.  He must be complex, but with a sense of humor.  Sexy, but deep.  Well read and versed in pop culture.  Not too young, not too old and not too real, either.  I swear to be loyal and true, until he jumps the shark and starts to suck. 


2 Responses to “Dear Lost, it’s not you it’s me”

  1. Annemarie Says:

    At this point it’s a Wilson Phillips song for me. Hold on for one more episode. The passion is gone, but I keep hoping for the spark back. I’m kinda with you. I haven’t been excited to come home and watch a show since angel/buffy either. I loved pushing daisies, but it went away so quickly…

  2. Kelly P. Says:

    Two words for you: Mad Men. Summer series on AMC. Season 1 is out on DVD, Season 2 starting in June. Brilliant, gorgeous, entertaining, thought-provoking. Do it. You won’t regret it.

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