Considering that I don’t have ETC and I hardly have time to watch movies let alone tolerate commercials, I just had to buy a dvd of the two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy. Sans the commercials and the anticipation of what’s going to happen next week because you are watching three episodes in one sitting, it has become increasingly drudging.
The soap fascinates me because my vocabulary had decreased to anything that has Mc in it: Mcdreamy, Mcsteamy, Mcvet, Mcmeals, Mcnaps, Mchotties, or McCars. Stop the Macs and get on with our lives, eh? Don’t think so. Grey’s Anatomy made me want to go on looking while they talk about their lives before heading out to scrubbing, or before heading out to a major surgery. It is like in the middle of the pancreatic surgery, seizures, brain damages, sutures and pre-mature babies, sex has to be squeezed in the middle, like an intermission among a very long program. Come on, the cast are together 24/7, its just right for them to sleep with each other.
The cast is another thing. I am reminded so much of Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and The City in Meredith Grey’s role. Soft around the edges but has a voice when she claims , “It’s not just a game to me. I have something to prove.” Like Carrie, she narrates in an earnest tone that we grew to love about Sarah Jessica Parker. But this time, its Ellen Pompeo who is remniscent of Rene Zellweger, its annoyingly anal. It doesn’t help that her Mcdreamy is Patrick Dempsey – another Sean Penn baby –is also her Mr. Big. Mr. Big has always been the dreamboat that no one can actually have but still, fantasies of him will forever be present in any girl’s head. Its a myth – these Mr. Bigs of the world. Its good to be true even if any of the girls who has her own Mr. Big gets to snag him.
Meredith’s confidante, Cristina, happens to be a woman who was characterized as someone incapable of having any relationship with anyone but yet proved to be a very supportive best friend to Meredith and loyal partner to her boyfriend, a resident in the hospital. Christina is like Doctor Bailey. They both have something in common. Strong yet bends at the slightest act of any weakness. Izzie is a misnomer. She doesn’t belong at all to the group and she is the least of my favorite character. The series must be giving an impression to viewers that having a pretty face and a body will get you to med school but I don’t buy it. George is a hilarity himself, very much a standout, the ever loser and the ever character whom people get to soften at. Alex sharpens the whole softness of the team. The rest just makes up the whole drama.
The reason why we’re hooked is because somehow we all are like the Merediths, the Cristinas, the Georges and the McDreamys in the world. We’re all, as aptly said, socially retarded. No matter how perfect we are, or we think we are, we still screw up. We balance, yes, because before we managed to do it, we had fallen first.
We rely too much on ourselves to make it into this world without ever considering that to do achieve it we must maintain control of life. Isn’t that the recurring theme of the series– maintaining control of our lives? Every blasted time we make a mistake, we criticize ourselves – and others, too. We wanted always a quick fix which something a slapped bandaid can heal but can’t. Surgery can heal, which means, something has to be prodded and poked before it can be cured.
Grey’s makes us realize that to err is divine – because in the end, we might, fingers crossed, get our Mcdreamy.
Being an adult? Totally overrated. I mean seriously, don’t be fooled by all the hot shoes and the great sex and the no parents anywhere telling you what to do. Adulthood is responsibility.
— Meredith Grey (Ellen Pompeo), “Shake Your Groove Thing”
Cristina: I need a drink, a man, or a massage. Or a drunken massage by a man.
Intimacy is a four syllable word for, “Here’s my heart and soul, please grind them into hamburger, and enjoy.” It’s both desired, and feared. Difficult to live with, and impossible to live without. Intimacy also comes attached to the three R’s… relatives, romance, and roommates. There are some things you can’t escape. And other things you just don’t want to know.
Derek: I wanted to come over here this morning to tell you… But now all I want to tell you is that I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you forever. And now you have a choice to make. I want you to take all the time you need, I don’t want to rush you, but I love you. Just take your time. Because when I had to make a choice… I chose wrong.
Responsibility, it really does suck. Really, really sucks. Adults have to be places and do things and earn a living and pay the rent. And if you’re training to be a surgeon, holding a human heart in your hands, hello? Talk about responsibility. Kind of makes bikes and cookies look really, really good, doesn’t it? The scariest part about responsibility? When you screw up and let it slip right through your fingers.
Meredith: No one likes to lose control, but as a surgeon there’s nothing worse. It’s a sign of weakness, of not being up to the task. And still there are times when it just gets away from you. When the world stops spinning and you realize that your shiny little scalpel isn’t gonna save you. No matter how hard you fight it, you fall. And it’s scary as hell. Except there’s an upside to freefalling. It’s the chance you give your friends to catch you.As a surgeon, you take as much of the good as you can get because it doesn’t come around nearly as often as it should. ‘Cause good things aren’t always what they seem. Too much of anything, even love, is not always a good thing. I’ve heard that it’s possible to grow up, I’ve just never met anyone who’s actually done it. Without parents to defy, we break the rules we make for ourselves. We throw tantrums when things don’t go our way. We whisper secrets with our best friend, in the dark. We look for comfort where we can find it. And we hope against all logic, against all experience, like children, we never give up hope. Amelia, listen to me. Look at me. Amelia. This is important. This one is… is really the important one. Someday you’re gonna have a baby. And you’re gonna feel overwhelmed by this little life you’re responsible and you’re going to think… worry that everything you do is wrong. And that’s normal. You’re gonna obsess about what to feed it and where to send it to school and whether it should take violin or piano. But I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: it doesn’t matter. Whether your kid is a concert pianist or a math genius. It just doesn’t matter. Because, at the end of the day, all that matters is if your kid is happy. So you’re gonna feel sad for a little while. And that’s ok. That’s… that’s fine. But don’t feel sad forever okay? You promise me that? You promise me that you won’t feel sad for too long?