Sorry, Boyfriend: The Lee Pace Edition

Sorry, Boyfriend, but the facts are these: I love Lee Pace.

And it's hard for me to love Lee Pace because I am not sure if he's going to be around for all that long. After NBC ripped my heart out of my chest last fall when they pulled my beloved Studio Sixty on the Sunset Strip and then the equally-delicious Black Donnellys--the show that replaced Studio Sixty--I swore I wouldn't get too invested in good shows again because I know what happens to them. They get canned. The networks' lack of devotion to good, funny, well-written shows makes me sad. And let's not lie--I'm still smarting from My So-Called Life being canceled in 1995.

Anyway, I'm afraid for Pushing Daisies, which features Lee Pace as a witty pie baker with the ability to bring people (and things) back from the dead. It's ridiculously well-written, sharp, and clever. On top of that, the show's sets and costumes are brilliant. They are little opulent feasts for the eyes.

And so is Lee Pace, and I'll tell you why: it's his torso and his eyebrows.

I have a weakness for tall men, and Lee Pace is tall. Most of that height comes from his torso, which is the longest part of him, and the show's stylist is always putting him in tight black shirts that do nothing but highlight that fact, and this makes me want to gnaw my arm off because I know if he took his shirt off he would have fantastic hipbones. I never once thought I'd spend time wishing Wednesday would hurry up and get here because there is guaranteed to be several moments of time where Lee Pace will be on screen wearing an apron--another thing that highlights his lanky, lanky torso. It's stunning how often I think to myself, Oh my God. A man in an apron is so freaking hot.

He also has some pretty badass eyebrows. It's hard to explain why I find them to be alluring, but I do. I think it has something to do with the angle it brings to his face--it's a sort of hardness that makes him look both a little angry and sad. The second is appropriate for the show, since he's in love with his childhood sweetheart he brought back from the dead. They can never touch again because if they do, she dies again. For good. Oh, it kills me--all those long, sad, aching glances! I can't make it through the show without ingesting some kind of chocolate product to compensate for the fact that they can't kiss, hold hands, hug. If I had the love of the pie baker, I would soothe him. I would fix his broken heart. And then I would pepper his lanky body with kisses fast enough to make your head spin. Oh, you better believe I would.

There are other things that make Lee Pace pretty fantastic, too, and those things are his hair (it's got a cute swoopy wildness about it) and his delivery of the show's cheeky lines (subtle, hysterical), and this is why, come Wednesday night, I am always sitting in front of the television with a brownie or a cookie or a candy bar clenched in my fist so I can make it to the first commercial break without passing out because I think he is just that beautiful.

And you better believe I have my fingers and toes crossed so that the writer's strike doesn't somehow lead to the cancellation of the show, which has easily become my favorite of the new season (although I have to admit I would be pretty upset if Chuck got canceled because, well, just look at Zachary Levi). I can't handle having my heart ripped out again. I've been trying to fill the post-West Wing hole in my heart for a long time now, and I'm ready to give that spot out to Pushing Daisies. It just better stick around.