I’m not there. At the Current. Look, it’s not forever, just a few more days. I’m in Los Angeles (or I will be, I’ve written ahead of myself; who knows if I made it?) at a theater-writing fellowship, star-watching (one of my smug early-bird fellow fellows has already e-nounced that she peeped Russell Crowe and Ben Affleck), and more importantly, becoming a better writer, so that this vitriolic weekly valentine — and everything published under my byline — packs the punch it should. Again, that’s all assuming my plane didn’t run out of fuel.

And you, living, breathing Critical Darling reader, well once you’re through soaking up the brilliance of closeted construction-paper artist Brian Villalobos (who’s also a fine journalist, come to think of it), take a few moments to, a) send him your compliments, and b) write Arrested Development exec producer Ron Howard begging him to move the nebulously prospective AD movie forward (after the writers’ strike ends, natch); apparently he’s tossing it. Didn’t watch the show? Do it for me.

Hey, speaking of TV, I wonder if I’ve missed Lost …

… maybe I am lost. (: O. XO.

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