It's over!

It's been a long, troubling year, but I've finally reached the end. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to quit, how often I thought to myself "why would my show do this to me?", how badly I just wanted it to be over already.

Psych, not season four. I loved this season. But close to a year after I started it, I finally finished the mother-fucking Fountainhead! 687 pages of pure selfish objectivist psychobabble. A herculean task, if I do say so myself. It is a monument to my incredible devotion to LOST (and the fact that I can be pretty stubborn complete-ist) that I got all the way through. Especially because I knew by about page 50 just how little it really has to say about the show- like the Dickens references, this one is much more about the creative process of making the show than the content itself. But I'll go into this more in a follow-up post, when my head's a little clearer. For now, all you need to know is that The Fountainhead sucks, and I am awesome.