Two Days Out

In two days, I will not only be on my way to seeing the boy but actually in his place. For this I am nervous to the point that I can't sleep (really. I'm working on about six hours for the weekend.) and in equal parts excited. We had a good talk last night about some things that have been worrying me (and aren't I always the one who worries? Honestly, even Biggs has mentioned it on occasion). I felt heard, he suggested solutions, and although I couldn't sleep, I could rest.

Last night's Lost finale was something else. I do think it could have ended at the two-hour mark (if only to save me from more tears) but I enjoyed the denouement. Speaking of tears, I must have cried three or four separate times. I am a sucker for a good love story. And don't you think the actors have improved over the years? Well, Michael Emerson and Terry O'Quinn are consumate actors, true, but the others have really developed. Or at least learned how to do the smize and the anti-smize. (Tyra, you're welcome.)

There's some hope on hand, professionally speaking, and if there's something professional that I need right now, it's hope. So please keep your fingers crossed that I won't have to play Worst Case Scenario: Moving Back In With The Folks anytime soon.

And wish the boy and I a fabulous time together.