Serious Ugly

So Lost is back. And they've jumped riiiight in to confusing the hell out of me. I love you, Lost, I really do. But you have got to give me a little more here. I feel like I'm doing all the work, and you just don't seem to care about making me happy anymore. You're so guarded and complex, and all I wanna do is understand you. If we're going to make this relationship work, you're gonna have to let me in and tell me some of your secrets. I don't need to know everything-not yet-but you could at least tell me where Locke and Eko are, and what the story with the 4-toed statue is, and where in the hell Walt got his special powers. That, and I'd like to meet your parents. Don't you think it's time?

I love you, Baby.

I will be flying down to Florida this weekend with my sister to go see my Mom for her birthday. We get drunk, watch movies, reminisce, and occasionally moon old folks from the condo balcony. You're jealous, I know. I have decided I will attempt to write an extremely jumbled and incoherent blog entry while I'm there, because there's nothing funnier than reading a drunk's musings. I know this to be a fact, because I tend to try and write jokes whenever I am in a state of inebriation. The next day, I have the distinct pleasure of trying to decipher my handwriting, and figure out what cryptic subjects like, "Gushers vs. Fruit Roll-Ups: The Battle for Fruit Snack Domination and the War in Iraq" and "That bitch is so proud of her recycling techniques...what a whore!" could possibly translate to onstage.

Show! Show of Comedy! Tomorrow night at the NY Improv, which is at 318 W. 53rd Street. Showtime is at 7pm, and good-timery is all but guaranteed.

Halloween is a-comin', and I am at a loss as far as costumes are concerned. One can only dress up as a Catholic school girl so many years in a row before getting raped. And to be fair-when you're dressed like that, you're pretty much asking for it. Any suggestions?