Okay, Chaos Crew. It’s Monday morning and I am behind. Way behind. I was so unsettled/unfocused/excited by the LOST
finale, that I couldn’t write my oprah column or produce a podcast yesterday. Yesterday, in between folding laundry, making stuffed shells for dinner, and doing upper arm exercises, I watched 6.5 hours of LOST. The pilot. The recap. And The End.
Because Life’s too short not to be Lost every once in a while.
I did manage to have a spray-on tan, but I’m saving that misadventure for the show.
So, now I am off to write the column, record a show, see a knee doctor, walk my dog in honor of Vincent, get my toenails done for the Gracies, take the kids to soccer, and possibly see a documentary on pushing our kids too much called Race to Nowhere even though I don’t have tickets. Hahahaha.
But first, let me just say that I was 100% percent satisfied with the LOST finale. I sobbed like Out of Africa-style sobs at the end. Why? Because I am a Jack girl. Always was. And it was Jack’s hero’s quest that kept me engaged for 6 years. ( Frankly, before LOST even started, as Party of Five was another all-time fave show of mine starring Matthew Fox.) So, in The End, I didn’t need all the answers; I only needed one. And I got it.
My man over at Time Magazine, James Poniewozik, has a great column about the LOST finale. Better than anything I could write, so I’ll let him take it from here.
I don’t believe in a lot of things. But I do believe in duct tape.
Embracing my Chaos, Lian