Be Mine, Valentine

Who will you be sending a valentine to this year?


These three men captured my heart a long time ago, and while they remain perched high atop my Celebrity Safe List, they will not be getting valentines from me this year.

Vaughn is so adorably lovable, but he's admittedly not the brightest crayon in the box. (My great-aunt might go so far as to call him "dumber than a box of rocks.") He thought that KESTIMETRUTHTA was an encoded message. I'm sorry, but can you not clearly see two words there right in the middle? Derek's let-me-bitch-at-you-for-no-reason is getting more than a little grating, even though he's still a "knight in shining whatever." Jack Shepard is about as sensitive and brilliant as they come, but he's a little inaccessible to me right now. He also cries way too much for me. As gorgeous as they are (just check out that come-hither expression on Matthew Fox's face), I think my affection is better spent on the boys who consistently make me swoon.


These three writer/producers are a constant presence in my life. While perhaps not as "hot-cute" as Vartan, to put it in Alias terms, these glasses-clad Jews are, I think, genuinely sexy. Brainy, witty, and oh-so-complex, these guys have created some of my favorite television universes (and characters) ever.

Sorkin and and I are having a bit of a rough patch right now, because of my general disappointment with Studio 60, particularly the Danny/Jordan faux-relationship. (That's a story for another blog.) I'm sticking it out, because that's what you do when you've been together for nine years and when you still really love the way they talk. Doesn't hurt that he's incredibly brilliant, either. (Here's hoping Charlie Wilson's War is the best film of the 2007 Christmas season.)

Damon Lindelof is my newest love. His comments on the most recent Lost catch-up special gave me hope for Jate and for the future of his show. I have many of the same issues with the Alias finale as Mae does, but I do not doubt that Lost and I will eventually end on much better terms, and it's because of this man. However new it might be, he is committed to our relationship and would never think of cheating on me with, oh, say, Tom Cruise.

And JJ. Oh, JJ. Jabrams is like my very-absent workaholic husband. I would leave him if he wasn't such a good husband when he was around. When he does come home, he's very good to me, gives me really nice gifts, and he treats our children better than any of the babysitters. (Is this metaphor making any sense?) What I mean is, he's the best writer there is. He created the Lost characters, and he knows them so so well. But he's a busy man, what with the ginormous deal he signed with Paramount that has led to his involvement with the next Star Trek movie. And I resent him for that. But in the end, I still get totally psyched for the episodes he pens.

So Happy Valentines Day, boys. Now what did you get me?