I think I need help.

Here it is everybody, the one thing that will make everyone NOT want to read this blog anymore...

Well, wait. Before I come right out and say it, I need to build up to it. Of course.

Every year about this time for the past seven or eight years, there's a cultural phenomenon that takes over the TV sets of Americans everywhere- though really not a surprise given the history of America and more specifically, America's obsession for talent. I could get into how it is a flagship for capitalism and bla bla bla, but like I always remind you all- intelligent conversation is best found somewhere else.

Aaaaaanyway, "American Idol" is everyone's guilty pleasure, rock star fantasy, and train wreck come true. As much as most people hate it, they don't get the ratings they do from no one- someone is watching it. And someone is buying up all those Kelly Clarkson CDs and Carrie Underwood iTunes(es?) and googling David Cook everyday (wait, am I the only one who does that?). So, you know what I'm talking about and chances are you've seen an episode or two if you aren't in a complex awaiting the return of the messiah.

So. What I have to say to you is this:

I really like Ryan Seacrest. Like in an awkward uncomfortable sort of way.

It happens every year when Idol starts up. He smiles into that camera and says something corny and I get chills. I was jealous when he was mauled by Bikini Girl this year and I want to reach through the TV when he hugs those bubbly girls who come out of the room clutching their golden flyer.

Maybe it's that familiar face I see every night on E! that reminds me that things are going to be ok as long as he's around and bringing me the latest details about Suri Cruise.  Maybe it's his witty repoirte with Simon Cowell as he walks the line between friendly and flirty.  I don't know what it is, I don't know what is wrong with me.  But...

Seacrest is hot.

Awkward and questionably gay, too.

But so, so hot.

Nothing.

....aaaaaaaaaaand I got nothing.

Sorry, folks. I'm tragically uninspired today. All of my "Lost" presupposing really got in the way of my creativity.

I told you I'm crazy.

“So we can go back and kill Hitler?” to which Dr. Chang shot back, “Please…there are rules. Rule #1 - You can’t go back and kill Hitler. Everyone was always like ‘oh, let’s go kill Hitler’ and we were never getting any work done, so we banned that one right off the bat.”- bwe.tv recap by Dan Hopper.

I know, I know. I keep making "Lost" posts. BECAUSE IT WAS THAT GOOD. Here are my reflections from the episode:

In a totally non-BWE.tv Lost Recap related statement, Alanna joked that it was "Weekend At Bernies 2k9."

Ben and Jack's bromance is both pretty gosh darn cute and alarming. Especially how 1) Ben flushed his pills and 2) stuck up for him ("The man's been through a lot!") in the end.

Sun is one manipulative beeeeotch. ("I don't blame you" while thinking "You bitch, you are the real reason my Jin is dead. YOU YOU YOU.)

I love that Sawyer is so desperate to get a shirt on. You love it, you know Juliet is checking you out. Admit it. Seriously, he was just short of breaking out into an all out Chippendale's routine last night.

Is there anything more adorable than Hurley? Especially that scene with his madre.

HOLY CRAP, THERE'S THAT DAMN DOG.

That annoying guy is too annoying. He's so gonna die.

Hmmm, Dr. Hanso is oriental. So is Miles. So is Dr. Hanso's woman. And there's a baby in the beginning. Coincidence?

Does anyone care that Claire is still missing? Anyone?

Aaaaaaaand whadya know, that annoying guy died (in a totally "Troy"/"Braveheart"/every historical battle movie you've ever scene way).

The commentary in the pre-show recap was priceless. "Jack's an unhappy guy. He's grown this horrible beard. So you can pretty much guess he's unhappy."

And could someone please tell me why the hell Michelle Rodriguez (as dead AnaLucia) is giving Hurley advice to "not get arrested?" Hello, kettle? Pot calling.

That's all. Oh, and that it was literally the best two hours of my life. LITERALLY.

I must confess.

Since this blog was started in November (long after it ended its fourth season), I have had no need to let you all in on this:

Ready?

I'm obsessed with "Lost." Pretty much to the point where I watch episodes of "Intervention" and think, Gee, I know how that feels! (only with less Meth and more Sawyer). So you can imagine how incredibly psyched I am that it premieres its fifth season tonight on ABC (international fans, sorry- I think you guys are like only on season 3 or something). I'm pretty much forcing myself to sit down and actually do work today in an effort not to jump around and do kartwheels. Let's face it, this is the highlight of my month (you know, besides Obama and all that). So, in no particular order, I thought I would tell you the rules that I have imposed on my home on this particular night of nights:

1. You do not talk during "Lost." This one is directed at YOU, Mom. (actually, this rule is a revamped version of the Symmes Hall "Alias" Act of 2001 from Miami University).

2. No questions. Really just an addition to rule #1. If you don't understand something, watch the DVDs. I really just cannot explain everything to you and hope that you'll understand.

3. No criticizing "Lost" before, during, or after broadcast. It pretty much goes without saying that this is the best written show (EVER) when it comes to plot, character development, and complexity so your nitpicking will not change that.

4. No phone calls. This one is for you DAD. I don't really care about the weather in Arizona.

5. No boys, no drama. There is no gossip time during "Lost" nor are there any problems with boys. For one hour a week, there are no man issues. They only serve as a distraction from the real issue at hand: What the hell is with the four-toed foot?

Lord knows, I love a lot of TV. However, "Lost" is just something more than TV. And for the next 5 months (or however long the season runs), "Lost" is life.

I've invested four years of my life in this show- much longer than any relationship, job, or house I've ever lived in as an adult. With two seasons left, I shall give it my undivided attention.

I'm sure this post has only confirmed that I am a crazy person.

Nipped and tucked.

"Watching 'Nip/Tuck' after all this time is like doing a line of coke after rehab. You feel bad that you're doing it again but it just feel so good."- Text from Me to Alanna last night.

And so it was true. After taking a hiatus from the show and then the show taking a hiatus from television, Shawn, Christian and I had a joyous, if not a tad disappointing, reunion. Of course, this disappointment was forgotten during the last fifteen minutes with a completely unnecessary double sex scene.

Missing were Julia and Kimber... where did they go? I've tried keeping up with synopses on "Television Without Pity" lately. It was a mistake to stop watching the show after they left Miami and I admit that. Christian and I are getting through it together. It was nice that they recapped the murder attempt by Shawn's sadly pathetic manager Colleen. Lots of blood, yum. What I gather from what I've read so far is this: somehow Christian killed his ex Gina and made it look like suicide so now he has her son Wilbur who he thought was his until Wilbur's birth revealed he was, um, not and somehow Matt slept with his half sister, but only after knocking up Kimber and becoming addicted to Meth. Well now he wants to be a doctor. Rrrright. Because the best doctors are always the former meth-heads. Christian has breast cancer and him and Liz are now friends... which I find odd but comforting.

Other than the beginning (gratuitous violence) and the end (gratuitous wheelchair sex), the middle was a little lacking. Kind of like a sandwich on really good bread with only a slice of cheese in between. However, I was reminded by EW online that this was NOT a season premiere but a season continuation so we're still dealing with last year's BS. So I will give it time.

I did miss it though, a lot. Apparently "over the top" is back in style nowadays, though. So I don't feel bad about it.