Well, damn. I sat and watched the first four episodes of Lost this evening, finally, after what seems like a long, long wait to get the disc. And, dammit, now I have to sit and wait until I get the next couple episodes. Because, narcotic-like, it's in me and I need to see where this goes. So far pretty much a series of What the fucks, but I get a distinct Prisoner vibe off the thing. I'm a little surprise that the more-or-less male lead, Jack, hasn't killed someone from the constant pressure to do something, because apparently he's the only one capable of dealing with anything. Kate, Sayid, Charlie, and Sun are pretty aces so far. Once I've watched more I'll write up something more interesting.
Drove up to Chemainus with Michael and Daniel today, had bland, bland food, and drove back. Saw North America's "biggest hockey stick" in Duncan on the way back, want to use that detail in a story sometime. It was hot, and Chemainus is boring. Once I was home I hard-boiled some eggs and had them for dinner.
The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad was terrible, although redeemed primarily because the Sinbad carried his miniaturized fiancee around with him in his pants. There was probably room for an entire harem.