Lost

Miss B arrived after dark. She ate some crackers and asked for a glass of water and peppermint tea. She took a shower and said to be ready to train. After five minutes though she said she was not in the mood. She said Panties should dress in some of her new wardrobe and take her to a movie where Panties would sit one row behind her wearing earplugs and staring at the floor. But it got late, and there was not a late showing of "100 Dresses," which Miss B was interested in seeing. So instead, she somewhat reluctantly agreed to get into Season 1 of “Lost.” One full DVD later, it was near midnight and she had watched the pilot and the first two episodes. She liked the hunky doctor and enjoyed the twists of plot. After, she told Panties to write about watching the show as a sissy. Panties wasn’t crazy about the show with its stock characters (the bigoted troublemaker, the addict-artiste, the heroine with a dark secret, the aggrieved minority, the model forced to do without mascara) and the one-dimensional doctor who breaks up fights and is noble to the degree that he answers Kate’s confessional offering with a stupid speech about how they’ve all been reborn on the island. Maybe he gets some complexity in the later shows, but mostly he heads a pastiche of predictable types ripped from Gilligan’s Island and Survivor. Anyhow, this is not how Panties is supposed to think (See Miss D’s instructions for watching her play in Christmas Pageant-6). Panties was supposed to be looking away during the gory parts and thinking how silly the men are when they fight and concentrating on how the girls dressed and make up. Panties is learning to relate to what becoming for her, “the opposite sex,” with their beard stubble and chest hair. (Panties had shaved her legs and underarms that morning.) Panties remarked to Miss B about the panties pressed flat in the suitcases in the wreckage of the luggage compartments and how Panties was learning not to regard the attractive girls as something Panties should aspire to kiss or cuddle with. And the primary lesson of the evening, was Kate how she so casually wore her femininity and how the instinctive calculus she would run as a woman whether taking the measure of a pistol or the pregnant girl, and how she brightened whenever she met the handsome doctor and how Panties would increasingly likely not again ever have a girl glad in that way (the way girls do when they are with men) to see her.