Call me a control freak…wait, don’t. That’s like saying, “Wow, you’re mom’s a real b-i-t-c-h.” It’s just not cool, even if it’s true (mom, if you’re reading this, I don’t mean you, I just mean moms in general…it’s a simile). So let me rephrase. I’m kind of a self-professed control freak. For this reason, I feel like I can never truly love a cliff-hanger show like the ABC smash hit Lost. For the past couple of weeks, and likely for the next couple of weeks, our life on this ship is Lost-centered. Days have been filled with dark hours in cabin 10601 curled up with green tea and the survivors of Oceanic flight 815. Season one, I’ll admit, blew me away. I enjoyed the rollercoaster ride of getting to know the characters, mentally penciling people onto the “good guy or bad guy” list, which inevitably became eraser-worn. So now that my mind-paper has become thin and torn, I am left with the daily journey onto Lost island, featuring burning anger at Others mingled with outrage at the indiscernible actions and decisions of the remaining survivors. All of this topped off by the knowing laughter of Peter at my obvious frustration (I’ll get you, Fluet) has put me in the weirdest mood possible, which really wasn’t necessary for my last 4 weeks on this ship. It’s weird enough to be facing the excitement/dread of ending my tour and returning to Chicago. Excitement = seeing Erin and all my friends, cooking my own food, going to my own gym, etc; dread = waiting for an express bus at 7:15am in the tail end of the freezing cold winter. But this is what we do, right? See something on the horizon and rather than logically planning for it, like a responsible adult, we hold onto to the greatest opposing force possible. What? Go back to work? I better sleep until noon every day I can until then…you know, make the transition as difficult as possible.
So where am I going with all this? Well…Lost has really gotten me to thinking about the parallels between their island and this ship, not the least of which was confirmed by James’ Freudian slip last week that followed a scene where something big happened on the island right when Sawyer and Kate were having a moment together.
James: “Oh man, it is impossible for anyone to have a private moment on this ship…I mean island.” (pause for laughter) “Wow.”
So true, James. So true. Katy laughed at me when I suggested the similarity. Ok, so aside from the occasional GI outbreak, our ship is blessedly free of life-threatening situations, polar bears and smoke monsters…to my knowledge. But we do have Code Bravo in the engine room, security adventures in the dancer hallway and more drama than can be dreamt up by JJ Abrams’ psyche. Our close quarters and 24 hour social access to one another forges bonds beyond that of a normal ensemble…and let’s be honest, that’s pretty comparable to the bond forged by having had another human being pull you out of burning fuselage and administer CPR.
We had the inevitable “who do you relate to on Lost” conversation last week, and as per usual, I saw mouths moving but wasn’t really listening to what my castmates were saying. So let me go ahead and answer that question for myself and for you, dear reader…(spoiler alert if you haven’t watched Lost)
Tabetha Wells – Jack Shepherd. Tabetha’s name isn’t quite as heavy handed as Jack’s, unless you’re a huge fan of puns, which I most certainly am. Come on, really? Shepherd? Nice work, JJ. I digress. Tabetha is our leader, our “doctor,” our fixer. She works for the good of her people. I can only hope that if I ever needed an improv leg amputated she would be willing to put me underneath a makeshift blade and be brave.
Shawn Handlon – Sawyer. I want to say this is because Shawn walks around shirtless and makes gross sexual comments. But only the latter is true. Shawn is our comic relief and our perspective-keeper. Any concern you could possibly have will be assuaged by Shawn’s sage, “It’ll be fine,” spoken with the gravity of someone who has been around the world and seen it all. In reality, he’s really just always ready to offer some patented “sarcasm and indifference” with no apologies. Sawyer doesn’t make excuses and neither does Shawn.
James Mastriaenni – Charlie. Sweet Baby James has the history of rock star at an incredulously young age. Don’t let his innocent face disarm you. He’s done some crazy things. But underneath it all he’s the greatest guy and a reliable friend. In the same way, you meet Charlie and think, oh cute, he plays guitar! And then bam…he’s all over some heroin. You don’t know whether to punch him or pat him on the head. I’ve done both to James.
Katy Marquardt – Kate. Similar name…coincidence? I admit, Katy’s not the badass fugitive that Kate is. But they do share that self-sufficient, every-woman quality that make the bad boys sit up and take notice. The main difference: Katy’s weapon of choice is the piano. Not as handy as a 9mm, but just as impressive.
Peter Fluet – Jin. He speaks Korean, understands more English than he lets on and sometimes he catches us fish. I guess he could also be a polar bear…have you seen him play pool volleyball? ZING.
Natalie Sullivan – Tough call. I’m annoyingly introspective like John Locke, a fixer like Jack, a smart-ass like Sawyer and a gossip like Hurley. If only I had Sayid’s hair. Dreeaaaamy.
In the end, much like the characters on “Lost island” we aboard the Spirit must create our own reality. We share space, time and supplies with each other…we know each other’s moods, thoughts, schedules, eating habits, strengths, weaknesses…and occasionally we do a sketch show and an improv set. It’s only a matter of time before the “others” of the NCL Production Company put us in cages for experiments.
But back to my title…why do I hate Lost? TV shouldn’t be this hard. If I wanted to put together pieces I’d buy a puzzle.
Hey Tab and James, how do you feel about Lost?
And you, Peter?
Natalie? Come on, be honest. 
Gorgeous. Wtg, Mexico.
Oh boy, speaking of gorgeous...Ruben, Pedro and some tiny shorts. (learn more about Pedro at www.myspace.com/pedromadeira)
Love hurts, Katrina and Joe.
This is what real food looks like. It was preceded by hummus and beet juice. My body hated me later when I had to return to Raffles.
Q: Jenna, who fills your nails?
