We've got to get off this island

This is my last column of the year. I wanted to write something witty about Bieber Fever, or make fun of Chartwell’s some more, or at least make a really solid fart joke.

But I don’t have time to be funny. I don’t have time to do anything.
My ideal life plan (thinking of jokes, eating graham crackers and not wearing pants) has been replaced with the academic semester from hell. Right now, I have roughly 97 papers due. Some of those papers are for classes I’m not even registered for.

We all need to find a way to de-stress. Some people turn to cigarettes, or beer pong, or heroin. My new hobby is more dangerous than all three: I started watching Lost.

Like all addictions, it began meekly enough. You could call me a casual Lostee. I watched an episode every few days and dropped occasional references into conversations. Within a few weeks, I was locking myself in a dim dorm room to watch eight hour Lost marathons. Any conversation I had ended up with me quaking in the fetal position, whispering “The numbers… What do the numbers mean?”

I get obsessive about things a lot. I currently own enough Harry Potter t-shirts to go over a full week without wearing one twice. What did I expect of myself when I found an epic TV show with every single episode free over Hulu?

The difference is that I followed Potter Mania from the beginning, while I’ve packed 6 seasons of Lost into a little over two months. If Lost is my main addiction, I’m about to OD. The Lost fans who have been there since the beginning scoff at me. Apparently I’m not a real fan if I didn’t catch on until now. But I just laugh right back—I can watch every episode in a gluttonous spree and still enjoy the end result of 6 years’ hard work. I didn’t win the marathon, but I did win the pie eating contest.

In all my hours immersed in Lost, I realized something important. Elmhurst College is basically the Lost island. You’re stuck in this place, and a lot of the time you’re not sure how we got here or how to escape. Day-to-day, you mostly just worry about survival. Some people are cool, but some just want to shoot flaming arrows at you. Terrible things happen pretty often (polar bears, smoke monsters, Michelle Rodriguez) but sometimes things can be really fun (the beach, solving mysterious plots). And if by some twist of fate you manage to escape, something always pulls you back to the island.

I’m conflicted right now. If I do nothing but watch Lost for the next week, I can catch up in time to watch the final episode on the actual TV. But if I don’t study for finals, I’m going to be voted off the Elmhurst island via failing grades.
Honestly, I’m eager to find out how it ends. What will I choose—the instant happiness or the academic success? It’s quite a cliffhanger, and I can’t wait for the final episode of my Sophomore year to find out how things end up. Tune in next year. If I’m around campus, I probably studied. If not, at least I found out the secrets to the island.

Either way, I hope there are polar bears.