I love Lost.

I had been watching so much Lost lately in order to prepare for last week’s premiere of the final season I was literally lost. I had somehow managed to escape actual reality and become totally absorbed into the amazing world created by some of the best writers in television history. That’s right, I went there. Then I spent the last week trying to absorb and make sense of everything I watched in the premiere.

I love this show. I love that even though the show is super entertaining, it is also the thinking person’s television show. All of the literary references and themes. The spiritual and religious undertones beg to be overanalyzed–and they are! I have become obsessed. I read the crazy blogs and the epic recaps. I know who Drive Shaft is and I often bust out into a round of “you all everybody”. I refer to people who don’t watch Lost as “The Others” and I read up on quantum mechanics for fun (and to help understand what Faraday is saying). I find myself siding with Benjamin Linus, believing that he is really just misunderstood (and subsequently wonder if this is some strange offspring of Stockholm Syndrome). I have given serious thought to naming my future son Desmond (I mean really, don’t you just love Des?—But what was he doing on the plane?!?!)

You all have seen me through many an obsession (including my love for New Jersey before The Situation and Snooki were household names. If that isn’t a sign of the apocalypse, I don’t know what is) and I just thought it was time I come clean about my Lost obsession.

PS: If anything goes wrong, you will be my constant.

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