Wednesday night at 9pm is a sacred time. I've had my share of absences, but I generally trek south into Dorchester on Wednesday nights to watch Lost with my local BP affiliates. Lost is currently my favorite show to hate. It's pure donkey kong ridonculous. But watching it with the BP affiliates, as we shout our allegiances and gasp over the latest twist, is as comforting and relaxing as drinking soup, because it's the best thing to be doing, best place to be setting, during cold, hectic weeks. It's also a really funny bowl of soup. Spicy, too, thanks to Jax's many ethnic flavors. And then there are the real, non-soup snacks that Sarah provides. Like the stupendous chicken nuggets last month (which also coincided with ice cream and Desmond beating Benjamin Linus into a fine pulp. Best Wednesday ever). My heart still expands with ecstasy when I think upon those nuggets. I don't know when you last ate yours, but it had been too long since I had mine. And now I want chicken nuggets for dinner every night. Every. Single. Night. This is why people shouldn't feed their children junk food.
Another Liz highlight from last night-- "I wish I had swine flu so I can take a week off of work." The girl is precious.
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