It was a feeling I hadn't felt in a long time.

I paced around the living room, not really sure where to sit. I tried reading, but couldn't concentrate. I was giddy with excitement. Nervous excitement.

I couldn't wait for The O.C. season premiere to begin.

True, it wasn't exactly the television event of a lifetime. But it has been a while since I was genuinely enthusiastic for the return of a TV series.

I know the world didn't stop spinning after last season's cliffhanger episode a la "Who shot J.R.?" I didn't see any "Did Seth survive his sailing trip?" T-shirts or bumper stickers for sale.

Even though The O.C. isn't quite a bona fide cultural phenomenon, you've no doubt still overheard talk of the Ryan/Marissa/ Theresa love triangle. Or maybe the classic Seth/Summer/ Anna affair.

Well, if you've never been, The O.C. is a strange world where teenagers are played by 30-year-old men, teenagers sleep with 40-year-old women, and high schoolers never go to class but hardly need to as they are wiser and more worldly than any 65 year old.

It is quite a ridiculous program, actually: High on melodrama, low on reality; chock full of eye-rolling un-likelihoods and likely to raise eyebrows among the Friends of PBS.

There's a lot to like about The O.C., though, aside from its camp value.

The dialogue can border on brilliant. (This week's Seth-ism: "Hobos are hot again.") The show's soundtrack features better tunes than an hour of MuchMusic, offering tunes from The Eels, Franz Ferdinand and Ron Sexsmith.

And, above all, the show's producers carefully craft their storylines.

Sure, some people might call The O.C. a "soap opera," I prefer to think of it as a "serial drama." With a slightly soapy aftertaste.

It makes sense that shows with entirely unbelievable characters and unlikely premises could be an antidote to three solid seasons of reality TV.

By May, The O.C., North Shore and Desperate Housewives could be as big as Survivor, The Bachelor and American Idol have been lately.

They aren't there yet, though.

I definitely need to organize some kind of party for O.C.'s season finale.

Look for me. I'll be the one wearing a "Hobos Are Hot Again" T-shirt and playing The O.C. drinking game.