* It is likely I would not have cleaned my car or apartment regardless of the heat, but it’s nice to have a scapegoat
I despise the heat. Despise. The feel of a bead of perspiration making its way down my back. Damp hair sticking to my neck and forehead. The sting of my car’s piping hot “leatherette” interior as it fuses to the backs of my thighs. Pit stains. Sunburns. The way sweat pools under my eyes as the heat gets trapped behind my giant sunglasses, which are foggy with humidity.
Relief, found in chilly movie theaters and frequent cool showers, is merely temporary. If I were ever to embrace objectum sexuality, the object of my most sincere affections would without question be an air conditioner. Or, perhaps, a meat locker. But the window units in my rather old fashioned apartment are woefully inadequate. As they work overtime trying to satiate my desire, they sputter moisture out onto the window sills, which drips down the wall, causing the paint to bulge and crack. All in the service of bringing the temperature in the room from “unfathomably unbearable” to “at least I’m not actively perspiring (so long as I lay very still)”.
I long for ice-cold central air with an almost carnal passion. I simply cannot bear to be hot. We can’t all look “glistening and sexy” like Ashley Judd in “A Time to Kill” (probably the world’s sweatiest movie; the make-up department had to have been working overtime misting Judd down with a dewy, Southern glow).
I tend to look more like Oliver Platt’s character when the mercury heads above 95, as it has been for weeks. Fat, sweaty, and uncomfortable:
So please, God, if your’e out there, I know I take your name in vain too often and, frankly, only ever appeal to you for selfish reasons, seeing as how I’m not even remotely religious. But if you wouldn’t mind taking things down a notch, perhaps from “Hellfire and Brimstone” to something in the neighborhood of “Kitty Cat Relaxing in a Spot of Warm Sunshine,” I’d be ever so grateful. I may even show up at church.
I’m about to lay down a very important piece of life advice. It is vital to your future sanity. Are you ready for it? In fact, it’s not even going to come from me. It should come from someone with the appropriate amount of gravitas.
This ought to do it:
Listen up kids, because I am about to lay down some knowledge.
Now that I have your attention, and a spokesman with the right amount of gravitas, listen carefully to Morgan Freeman:
Never, ever, loan your books or movies to friends. And if you do, be prepared to never see them again.
Sarah! Morgan! How can you say such a thing? Don’t you trust your friends? You’re implying that your friends will maliciously make off with your possessions so they don’t have to shell out $12.99 at Target? That’s terrible!
Settle down, I’m not saying that at all. I’ve certainly loaned books and DVDs and gotten them back in a timely fashion. I’ve also loaned them and never seen them again. I’ve also borrowed books and DVDs and returned them, and in turn borrowed books and DVDs that remain in my collection to this day.
None of this is malicious. It’s just that a certain amount of time passes, and unless the borrower or lender make a specific effort, sometimes you just don’t return something, and then you move away, and then 5 years have passed and you’re like “Hey, I didn’t know I owned ‘The Big Lebowski’, let’s watch this Dude!” all the while some poor friend of yours back in New Hampshire is probably all “what mofo made off with my Lebowski DVD?”
Or you know, something to that effect.
Which is what was running through my head last week when I was attempting to track down my “Good Will Hunting” DVD. I know I had one. I remember watching it about 1,000 times before its mysterious disappearance. (I can’t decide if it’s the allure of a young and occasionally shirtless Matt Damon, Ben Affleck sporting an inexplicable pompadour and tracksuit combo throughout as if he were a Sopranos extra despite obviously portraying a Boston Irish type, or the math professor’s gay assistant–one of the most underrated performances in the whole movie…I just can’t resist Good Will Hunting.)
The movie is no longer in my possession. And that’s okay, because it’s my own fault, because if “Good Will Hunting” is not around despite the fact that I apparently own two copies of “What Dreams May Come” (on VHS no less), then I know that’s because I loaned it out. I am certain the person I loaned it to did not mean to steal it, any more than I intended to steal Lebowski. This stuff happens.
Which brings me back to my point: Never, ever loan out your books or DVDs unless you’re prepared to bid them a fond farewell. And go to Target and spend $12.99 on a movie you already own.
(And if it’s your copy of The Big Lebowski that made its way into my DVD cabinet, well…I kinda hope you don’t read this, because that was a pretty good get. )
It’s been over a month since I’ve had one, and just about 2 months, I think, since I’ve smoked more than one or two. I can’t even remember, actually. So it’s possible that I’ve quit. As I wrote last year, the thought of quitting smoking seemed like some unbearable punishment. Mostly because, as everyone knows, smoking is awesome. (Remember kids, don’t smoke! Because it’s awesome, so you will never, ever be able to stop, and then you’ll end up accidentally essploding your oxygen tank, like happened in that one episode of that hospital show I saw that time, with the doctors who make out in supply rooms all up against the sterile equipment and stuff. Gross, doctors!)
My reasons for quitting can be boiled down thusly:
1) The awesomeness tax that has swept the nation has caused the price of a single pack of smokes to skyrocket to approximately $147. I could buy a ticket on Southwest for that, and go to Phoenix or something!
2) People hate awesomeness. They don’t let you smoke, anywhere. Not even at outdoor bars, where it is acceptable to smoke only if you get up out of your chair and take one large step to the left, to the other side of the invisible smoke forcefield.
3) My boyfriend made me.
Number three is highly problematic for a fire-breathing dragon-lady feminist like myself. It requires many rationalizations, such as:
1) Is smoking really worth fighting for as a feminist sticking point? Well, of course it is, if you really think about it, but on the surface: no.
2) I have a chit to cash in whenever I feel like it!
“I gave up smoking for you, and you can’t even shut the shower curtain after your shower? Well, I nevah!!!!”
3) I’m certainly not doing anything else that I started doing when I was 17. Do I have Leonardo DiCaprio pictures on my wall? Do I wear tie-dye shirts and Birkenstocks and flannel shirts every day? (What? It was the 90s!) Do I listen to Smashing Pumpkins albums on repeat, searching for hidden messages sent straight from Billy Corgan to my damaged teenage soul?
No, no, and BWAAHAHAHAH, no. So why am I still smoking?
Of course, now that I’ve written this blog I will no doubt set out to chain smoke at my earliest convenience, having irrevocably jinxed my chances of making this hiatus permanent. I’ll let you know.
From now on, I’m going to stop crowing about how I never get sick.
I honestly don’t usually get sick though! I mean, I get a couple colds and coughs and sniffles per year, just like most people. But I rarely get so sick that I need “to be seen” (as my mom puts it) and take medicines, and miss three days of work, and constantly have people telling me how awful I look.
The last time that happened was when I had mono when I was 23. Mono was terrible in the sense that I had to sleep sitting up in my dad’s easy chair for 3 weeks or risk death by snot suffocation, but wonderful in the sense that I ate nothing but ice cream and liquid painkillers for a month, and lost 25 pounds.
If you ask me, mono is a walk in the park next to bronchitis, because with mono you’re basically just passed out. Sure, when you wake up you’re in unbearable pain, and your spleen might explode, but guess what? A few spoonfuls of ice cream, a mugful of ThermaFlu and a swig of liquid painkillers later, and it’s back to Happy Dream Easy Weight Loss Land for the next 12 hours. What’s wrong with that?
Bronchitis is basically the opposite of mono in every way:
You’re still sick for a month, but in that month you will likely get about a half an hour of sleep.
Instead of your spleen exploding, which most people could probably live through, your lungs might explode, which would probably be bad.
You can’t eat ice cream due to the fact that dairy products exacerbate a cough, but you probably won’t lose 25 pounds without trying like with mono. At least not if you’re me. This is probably due to the lack of sleep and inability to do much more exercise than, well, coughing. And even that will kill you, as I learned that several week’s worth of violent coughs can mean strained muscles and an inflamed rib cage.
This means, on top of the steroids and the inhaler and the antiobiotics and liquid hydrocodone, I also got to take naproxen and percocet and muscle relaxers! This was not as much fun as it sounds.
Oh, and did I mention I was on vacation for part of this ordeal? In New Orleans? And that I was so tired from merely dragging myself out to sightsee each day that I couldn’t even bring myself to hit up Bourbon Street and party down properly? Yes. That is all true.
This entire post about my ailments is, naturally, meant to serve as a very viable excuse for not posting for two months.
“But I thought you said you were only sick for a month??”
Essentially, a blogger posted a bit of a web rant warning of the dangers of little Miley Cyrus and her possible foray from pop music into country. In short, the blogger was concerned that her somewhat tarted up image and alleged liberal leanings would taint the wholesomeness of country music.
I’m sorry…what?
Y’all, despite my Yankee status, I am a HUGE country fan. I love it; it is essentially all I listen to. A couple years ago, I even bought a “mega ticket” at the Nissan Pavillion (I refuse to call it by its new name) (snerk!) to go to 7 different country shows all in one summer. I wore a cowboy hat and sang along to every song. Zac Brown’s first big hit, “Chicken Fried,” might be one of my all-time favorite songs, and kinda makes me wish I was from Georgia. So please understand, what I’m about to say is coming from a place of love.
Country music ain’t wholesome.
This has driven me crazy for a while now, mainly because the country music station in DC edits the word “ass” out of the terrific Zac Brown Band song “Toes.” I’m always like, “Really? When every other country song is about killing someone? Really?”
No really, it’s true: So far as I can tell, many (many) country songs are about one of three things: Drinkin’, Cheatin’, or Murderin’. Don’t believe me? Let’s have some examples then, shall we?
Also–I am not judging…I think these songs are all pretty much awesome. Nothing wrong with a good honky tonk number — just feeling the need to point out the ridiculousness of the notion that country music could be “tainted” by, of all people, apple-cheeked little Miley Cyrus, who’s never sung a good drinkin’/cheatin’/murderin’ song in her entire young life.
Regardless — on to the categories!
Drinkin’ Songs:
Drunker than Me (Trent Tomlinson) – Guy is upset his previously teetotaling girlfriend has started boozing it up, forcing him to be the responsible one. It’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere (Alan Jackson) – Guy blows off work to get drunk all afternoon. Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off (Joe Nichols) – Self explanatory. All Jacked Up (Gretchen Wilson) – Lady goes to bar for just one drink, ends up getting hammered, knocking out another lady’s tooth, and then crashing her truck. Ten Rounds With Jose Cuervo (Tracey Byrd) – As a down on his luck guy drinks ten shots, his night improves with every drink.
Cheatin’ Songs:
You Can’t Take the Honky Tonk Outta the Girl (Brooks & Dunn) - Drunken trollop from the big city returns home and runs off with her second cousin’s fiance the night before the wedding. Stays in Mexico (Toby Keith) – An insurance salesman from South Dakota cheats on his wife and family with a first grade schoolteacher after too many margaritas in Mexico. The Thunder Rolls (Garth Brooks) – This a Very! Serious! Song! about the dangers of cheating. Mainly? Women always know. Before He Cheats (Carrie Underwood) – Guys: if you value your vehicles, don’t cheat on Carrie Underwood. For real. Why Don’t You Stay (Sugarland) – In another Very! Serious! Song!, a lady having an affair with another woman’s hubby comes to her senses and dumps the guy.
Murderin’ Songs:
(Soooo many to choose from, so I’ve broken it up into “Fun ‘n’ Folksy Murderin’ Songs” and “Very! Serious! Murderin’ Songs.”)
Fun ‘n’ Folksy:
Goodbye Earl (Dixie Chicks) – A favorite of karaoke gals everywhere, who because of the funny and folksy tone of the song may not realize that the song is less about gal power than it is about a woman who is so brutally beaten by her husband that she enlists her childhood best friend to help her murder him.
Papa Loved Mama (Garth Brooks) – Upbeat number wherein the titual Papa puts Mama in the graveyard for stepping out on him. At least the song also points out that he ends up in jail.
Kerosene/Gunpowder and Lead (Miranda Lambert) – Kerosene = You Cheat, You Die! Gunpowder & Lead = You hit me, you die!
Very Serious Murderin’ Songs:
Independence Day (Martina McBride) – Beaten wife kills her husband and herself in a horrible fire. Upbeat!
Folsom Prison Blues (Johnny Cash) – Shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die. Classic lyric, still a very bad thing to do.
Cocaine Blues (Johnny Cash) – Has the bonus of being about murder AND drugs! Drugged out guy shoots his woman then sleeps with the gun under his pillow.
Whiskey Lullaby (Brad Paisley/Allison Krause) – Ok, so it’s about suicide, but it’s still pretty dark stuff. Actually this might be more of a drinkin’ song….because it’s about former lovers who drink themselves to death. One from heartbreak, one from guilt. I mean…wow, now I’m depressed.
What are your favorite delightfully UN-wholesome country songs?
Okay, lucky for him, Jon does not snore all the time.
Okay, that’s not true he totally does. But, lucky for him, he does not snore so loudly that it keeps me awake all the time. When he does? It’s World War 3 in Casa Wurrey.
There’s really not much a person can do. I usually refrain from Option A (pillow violence) and head straight for Option B (resentful couch sleeping). Why doesn’t HE sleep on the couch, you ask?
“Why don’t YOU go sleep on the couch?”
“Why should I? You’re the one who can’t sleep.”
“…rrrrrrr…”
“What are you doing with that pillow? GAAAGHGH!”
And the worst part of all of it is that no matter what the infomercials tell you, there is NO cure for snoring. None. No, none.
“Those nose strips though!”
No. Those nose strips are very useful if one has a cold and can’t breathe well. They are also very useful in taping one’s nose back to make pig faces (not that I’ve done that). What they are not useful for is snoring. Just stop saying that when you know it is not true.
Dr. Franks has an epic moustache. He also sells an “arthritis spray.” This man is very pro-spray. But if it worked, he wouldn’t hock it via infomercial and cheesy website.
One thing I do like about Dr. Franks and other anti-snoring infomercials is that they are clearly employing actresses who know exactly what it’s like to sleep next to a jet engine. This lady’s Faces of Exasperation and Requisite Pillow Violence are spot-on. Get this chick a guest-starring role on “Two and a Half Men.” She’s just that good.
(What? That would be a big step up from a Snoring Infomercial actress.)
I present to you, the Five Stages of Pillow Violence, courtesy of the “Z-Quiet Snoring Cure” commercial:
Stage One: Yep, He’s Snoring Again
Stage Two: Attempt to Stop it Via Evil Side-Eye
Stage Three: Resentment Builds, More Side-Eye
Stage Four: Futile Attempts at Rage Control
Stage Five: PILLOW VIOLENCE!!!!
I’ve only resorted to pillow violence a couple of times. Normally I try to just gently place a pillow onto his face to muffle the sound. This technique is met with the same amount of anger as if I’d decided to solve the issue by beating him with a pillowcase full of hot nickels, so I’ve abandoned that as well.
Good thing I love my couch. Almost as much as I love him.
To be honest with you, my Oscar picks last year….sucked. I got Best Picture, Director, Supporting Actor and Adapted Screenplay right, but absolutely tanked the other categories. As an honest-to-god awards show junkie, it was a truly embarassing event. This year, there’s cold, hard, cash on the line as I’ve entered an Oscars pool — so I have to step up my game, y’all.
I’ve seen almost every film, though I may once again be making my best actor pick blind (I’m picking Jeff Bridges, and then seeing “Crazy Heart” later today; if I see it and hate it, me and The Dude are going to have some words). On to the picks!
Best Picture
Should Win: The Hurt Locker Will Win: Avatar
The Hurt Locker was hands down the best film of the year, and I have seen 9 of the 10 nominees, it’s definitely the best of the bunch. The problem is that “spectacle” movies like Avatar make tons of money, get tons of attention, and pretty much ride that wave to a Best Picture win despite being, when you think about it, nothing but popcorn movies. (See: Gladiator, Titanic, Lord of the Rings). I occasionally support Popcorn wins; I thought Braveheart earned its win, and even Titanic. But this year? No. Just no. Avatar was boring as hell, 30 minutes too long, and in the words of Simon Cowell, painfully self indulgent. Plus, Cameron is the official King of the World Jerks.
Still, sadly, it will likely win.
Best Director
Should Win: Kathryn Bigelow Will Win: Kathryn Bigelow
There’s no way she doesn’t win. Aside from doing an amazing job with the film, they’re going to give her this award to make up for her movie getting the shaft in the Best Picture race. Sometimes the Academy tries to be “fair” that way; like how they gave Russell Crowe an absolutely laughable Best Actor win for Gladiator to make up for him getting completely robbed of his deserved win for The Insider (have you ever seen that movie? It’s amazing; go get it on DVD, for real). Anyhow, she’s going to win, take it to the bank.
Best Actress
Should Win: Carey Mulligan Will Win: Meryl Streep
I picked Meryl to upset the frontrunner (Kate Winslet) last year, and I was totally wrong. So this year, I’m hoping for her to upset again, this time overtaking Sandra Bullock. I loved The Blind Side. But awarding Sandra for playing a brassy Southern Belle would be like giving Vince Vaughn an Oscar for his 18th performance as a “wisecracking man child with a heart of gold.” I’d like to hope that Gabourey Sidibe could pull off the upset too, because she just seems so damn likable and how often is a 300 pound black woman going to have a shot at a Best Actress Oscar? But her performance wasn’t as special as some would have you believe, and the Academy is already going to hit their Plus Sized Black Woman Oscar Winner quotient by giving Supporting Actress to Mo’Nique.
Speaking of….
Best Supporting Actress
Should Win: Mo’Nique Will Win: Mo’Nique
This win is the only slam dunk pick of the bunch. There’s basically no way she’s not getting it, and she was great in the movie. And I love that she talks honestly about how she doesn’t shave her legs and has an open marriage. She’s great. I loved Anna Kendrick in Up in the Air, so I’d almost like to see her upset if an upset is going to happen, but it probably won’t.
Best Actor
Should Win: Colin Firth Will Win: Jeff Bridges
As I said, I’m seeing Crazy Heart later today; but I’m basing my Colin Firth pick on the films I’ve seen thus far. He was so great in A Single Man, even if Tom Ford’s overly stylized and obvious direction made me want to puke, and Julianne Moore tried way, way too hard throughout her shrieky performance. However, from everything I’m reading, it looks like The Dude is going to make this happen. But that’s just like, my opinion, man.
Best Supporting Actor
Should Win: Christoph Waltz Will Win: Christoph Waltz
I forgot when pronouncing Mo’Nique the only slam dunk win that I was wrong–this is another slam dunk. And good for him, Hans Landa might be my favorite Tarantino villain since Mr. Blonde. Evil, suave, insanely intelligent, and rocking not only a badass full-length leather trench, but a giant Sherlock Holmes pipe. Love him.
Best Original Screenplay
Should Win: Inglourious Basterds Will Win: The Hurt Locker
Tarantino won for Pulp Fiction’s screenplay in 1995, and I think the script for Inglourious Basterds blows it out of the water. Unfortunately, The Hurt Locker is going to get the nod here — as another make-up award for screwing it out of Best Picture.
Best Adapted Screenplay
Should Win: Up in the Air Will Win: Up in the Air
I’d like to call a possible upset for An Education, but it faces the same problem that Carey Mulligan does in that not enough people saw it. Too bad, but I think Up in the Air will take this one home, and it was indeed a great script and a good movie, so I’m satisfied with it.
Best Animated Feature
Should Win: Up Will Win: Up
Ok, this movie made me weep real tears in the FIRST TEN MINUTES. It was so, so, good. Also: Talking Dog.
(Squirell!)
Also give this a big thumbs up for being the first animated film since my fave, Beauty in the Beast, to get the Best Picture nod.
That’s it! No live blog for the Oscars this year, as I’m attending a party to watch it with other actual humans. But you can entertain yourself with last year’s live blog, which has my favorite title I’ve ever given a post.
Here’s hoping I leave the party 20 whole dollars richer. Wahoo!
Fact #2: My incredibly ill-advised stab at becoming a runner last year has left me with a bum foot. I’m actually not really sure what’s wrong with it, which is shocking since I am a certified WebMD. Maybe a stress fracture? Maybe lingering plantar fascitis? Who knows. I can has x-ray?
Fact #3: I still want to exercise–hence? Deep water aerobics!
It’s supposed to be an amazing workout.
…..
It’s reeeeeally not. Certain parts are tough, especially the arm work with the foam rubber underwater weights, that’s the only part of class where I get out of breath. Sadly those sections only last for about the first 20 minutes, then the rest of the hour-long class is taken up by ridiculousness. Like underwater “crunches.”
Note to all water aerobics instructors: You’re on the side of the pool shouting instructions, NOT IN THE WATER. So when you’re suggesting I do this killer ab move…well it’s just really not hard to do when you’re underwater with a flotation belt on and clinging to a flotation noodle. What IS hard is trying to not swallow public pool water (mmmm, urine!) and drown while thrashing around like a damn marlin.
Why the thrashing, you ask? Oh that would be from attempting to do squats while balancing with a noodle under each foot. Squats on dry land? Incredibly effective, and an incredibly simple movement to perform. Underwater squats on noodles? Incredibly ineffective, and insanely difficult to execute without getting a foot cramp or dinged in the back of the head from the noodle flying out from under the old lady behind you.
You know that dread in the pit of your stomach you feel whenever you get the dreaded Facebook alert email? “So and So has tagged you in 6 horrible awful hideous fat ugly pictures!”
Take that feeling and multiply it by fifty, and you’ll know what it’s like to date my boyfriend. His inexplicable love for some of the worst photos of me ever on record defies all laws of attraction. If I were him, and I uploaded all those pictures to Facebook, I’d go out of my way to not point out to the world that the ones appearing to be of Jabba the Hut’s less attractive twin sister are actually of my significant other.
Exhibit A:
Seriously, what is wrong with him? He put this on Facebook and tagged it, as ME.
I mean, seriously, I could not hit de-tag fast enough. Granted, I am now claiming the picture as my own by placing it on my blog for the world all three of my readers to see, but I had to prove my point here. Hopefully this public plea will prevent any of these photos from making their way online again. He can just frame them and display them in our home like some sort of god-awful temple full of Rosie O’Donnell look alikes.
I’ve been meaning to write this post since last week. Perhaps I’ve been putting it off because my denial over the upcoming end of the best show on TV is pretty deep at this point.
That being said, some thoughts (if you haven’t seen the season premiere, this has spoilers for it):
- First off, if you’re not reading Jeff Jensen’s weekly recaps, you are doing yourself a grave disservice. I don’t know what he knows about anything else, but when it comes to LOST, he’s my own personal Einstein.
- Same goes for Jorge Garcia’s blog. Hurley is one of my favorites, and the actor who portrays him is equally awesome. He doesn’t actually discuss LOST that much, but it’s still a worthy read.
- I like to think that (some missteps aside) (Paolo and Nicki anyone?) the writers don’t do anything without a good reason. Which is the only thing I can think of to explain why, after the incredible finale last year when Juliet got sucked into the hatch and we all cried (or blubbered for about half an hour after the show ended, if you’re a loser like me), they would bother bringing her along back to 2007 with the other Lostaways only to die all over again. She had a perfect death scene, dare I say epic!
So, the only thing I can think of is that gibberish Juliet babbled at Sawyer (”lets get coffee sometime, we could go Dutch”) before finally kicking it will come back into play. THEORY ALERT! Maybe they re-meet in the alternate universe she created by setting off the bomb, and fall in love all over again. Personally, while I know many people are tickled by this theory, I think it’s a bunch of bullcrap. Because….
- If the alternate reality ends up being the final story (ie, that everyone on the island dies or something and ends up living the alternate life), I will basically firebomb ABC. As we’ve learned in just the first episode, there are many things that are quite different about this reality. Frankly, if we’re going by a “butterfly effect” thing here, where this alternate universe where the plane never crashed isn’t quite the same (notable differences include: Sayid being from Iran (?), Shannon not being on the plane, Desmond being on the plane, Charlie’s suicide attempt, Hurley being “lucky”, Sun (maybe) not speaking English), that means that these aren’t the characters we’ve invested years in rooting for. I don’t care about them. It was nice to see Boone again (mainly because he is smoking hot), but I could honestly give a crap–in my eyes, Boone died back in season one. And will the alternate reality give us updates on Libby, Mr. Eko, and Ana Lucia–or are we just supposed to forget about them?
- The Temple is totally unnecessary. Oh, I see, there obviously wasn’t enough freaky shit going on, we need to add an entire new layer and an entire new slew of “Others” into the mix. And oh, just to be original, we will have them dress funny and act mysterious and refuse to answer questions even though Jack and the gang are finally actually asking questions after five seasons of just accepting things at face value. Totally unnecessary.
- Dead!Juliet couldn’t have elaborated to Miles a little more? He seemed to have full convos with the dead in the past, yet all she gave him was “It worked”? It seems that his talent is only as limited as the writers need it to be for script purposes.
Don’t worry, there were some things I loved:
- Fake Locke (aka The Man in Black) revealed as Smokey. Phenomenal.
- Explanation of the ash that we’ve previously seen surrounding Jacob’s cabin: it acts as some sort of shield against Smokey. So was the smoke monster trapped inside the cabin, or did Jacob really “live” there and use it to keep him out? We assume Jacob knows about the ash, because he told Bram about its use (leaving out the fact that Smokey can sumo you out of your little protective ash circle with a boulder and impale you on a handy spike, RIP Bram)…what is it? How does it play into Smokey’s mechanics?
- Solid reveal that Hurley, like Miles, really can talk to the dead. He also does Miles better by showing he can see them as well. So, now we know that Charlie visiting him in the mental institution after he left the island was for real, along with, perhaps, some of his other hallucinations over the years. But it of course leads to more questions—why can’t he see everyone? Lots of people have died on the island…why doesn’t he see everyone?
Other questions:
- Is Claire still pregnant in the alternate reality?
- Is Sayid really alive or is he now a new Fake Locke? We know that Fake Locke was really Smokey the whole time, and Locke’s corpse remained in the coffin, so posession of a dead body doesn’t seem to be his MO. Did the dirty water just have a delayed reaction? Is he Jacob reincarnated?
- Does Rose still have cancer in alternate reality? Because that would be a BUMMER.
- Speaking of Rose, did her and Bernard also shift out of 1977 and into 2007 with the others when the bomb went off? If so, where are they? I’ll bet they are going to be pissed that Jack ruined their “retirement” without asking them. What a douche he can be.
- Now that they are in the same year, when will Jin and Sun be reuinited?? For christ’s sake, I sat through all of season 5 with them apart, let’s have something good happen, okay?
- Was Richard a slave on Black Rock?
Questions from Over the Years that I Want Answered Before We Wrap this Thing Up:
- What’s the deal with the “virus” and the “quarantine” and all those numbers-marked injections Desmond used to take?
- How does Smokey show you images from your life? What’s that clicking sound he makes? Can he only “appear” as dead people?
- What was with the polar bear experiments?
- Did they ever explain why The Others kidnapped the children? What were the “tests” they did on Walt?
- Speaking of Walt, what was the deal with him projecting himself into spots on the island? And the creepy talking backwards business?
- Who really killed Sayid’s wife? Who were the men Ben had him assassinating?
- What was with the “sickness” that overcame people on the freighter and caused them to go crazy?
For more nagging questions, please view this epic video. This stuff will make your head spin after a while so I’ve got to end it here. Share your own LOST thoughts in the comments, especially after tonight’s episode!
