Confession

May 29, 2008 22:40

I'm not going to beat around the bush about this: I am not in to Lost. In 2008, making this statement is similar to saying, "I am not in to the wheel" during the stone age, or quipping that "I am not in to croissants" while living in Paris.

My partner, however, loves Lost. So much so that he does not talk to me during the show. Probably because he is talking to the television. Or to himself, I can never quite tell which. Earlier this evening I called home to say I was on my way from a dinner party with my fundraising committee and I detected a hint of annoyance that I dare disturb him during Lost.

When the show breaks for commercial he always remembers that I'm hanging around, entertaining myself, and tries to make it up to me with a kiss or a hug or a pat on the bum. Like he just did a minute ago. He kissed my cheek and then I let him read my entry over my shoulder.

"Are you mad?" he asked.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm just sayin'."

He then when on to justify himself by pleading that this is the only show he watches! It's only an hour a week! It's like his "stories", he says.

I suppose that every couple has their "thing" that they do not see eye to eye on, and this is ours. In my defence, I gave it a try, I really, truly did. I tried to watch it with Jeff. And I would watch it with my mum when I went home on Wednesday nights but I just didn't get that tingle throughout my body that every one else seems to.

I don't get it. A magical island? Puh-lease!

I just can't do fantasy.

Well, there is one fantasy I can do: the Hills.

I know, I know, this is just about as fantasy as you can get -- but there is something about all that blond-haired, boozey fabulousness that keeps me waiting on bated breath for Monday nights. I flip through the gossip rags in the lineup at Dominion and I read the blogs and sometimes I even look at pictures. When Heidi and Spencer had an intervention on Access Hollywood I set time aside to watch.

It's sick.

And with that. The damned show is over until February. Finally my lovely, wonderful boyfriend will pay attention to me on a Thursday evening and we might -- might -- even get out for a pint or two on a Thursday night this summer.
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