Oh Grey's Anatomy. There was a time, in the not that far off past, when I eagerly awaited 9pm on Thursday nights [or gasp!...Sunday nights! Remember those days!?]; I remember running home from the most boring "Woman's Lit" class ever to be sure I didn't miss a minute of our favorite Seattle Grace interns' lives. There was a time when my friends and I had the perhaps strange tradition of making waffles and maybe cracking open a few beers every Thursday night while we yelled at the TV telling Meredith Grey to get her life in order, even though seeing as we were having beer and waffles for dinner we clearly didn't have our own lives in order either.
But that was the great thing about Grey's Anatomy - I felt like Meredith, Cristina, Izzie, Alex and George were my friends because well, they were just like my friends. I wasn't a medical intern but at the start the characters were so true-to-life it didn't matter, I could have related to them if they were astronauts. At the beginning Grey's was a show about the pain of growing up, the pain of realizing your parents can't help you anymore - even if they aren't relegated to a nursing home, the pain of finally realizing you need to stop being selfish because you actually have to be responsible for others on occasion whether you take a Hippocratic oath or not, the pain of forming deep relationships even if they sometimes leave you sobbing on your bathroom floor in a prom dress. In other words, Grey's wasn't a show about medicine, it was a show about life.
But somewhere along the way the sensational hookups and gratuitously weird medical cases took over and our five favorite interns faded into the background. I used to be pretty sure George O'Malley was my ideal man [I'm now pretty sure it's Don Draper, so like Grey's my standards have sunk significantly], but George just died on this season's premiere and well, I actually didn't care much. My favorite character of my once favorite TV show just died - complete with requisite funeral scene! And scenes of other characters crying! And talking fondly of his memory! - and I didn't even get a tad misty eyed. It's pretty sad actually, I should have mourned George like an old friend, because he sort of was in that way imaginary characters who stand in for real life people and memories can be. But I guess I have reached the "Acceptance" stage of grief, because I have been watching Grey's die its own slow death for awhile now. And it is only appropriate that last night's premiere prominently featured Elisabeth Kubler-Ross' famous five stages of grief, because George's funeral felt more like a funeral for the show itself.
My steps to Acceptance:
Stage 1: Denial
This is without a doubt what has kept me watching this show for going on 6 seasons now, even though it started to take a nose dive somewhere around the third. When it was just a few strange occurrences it was indeed easy to deny: An icicle impaled Cristina? Well that's....kinda funny? George and Izzie hooked up? Well that won't last long...right?! Lexie broke Mark's penis!?! Well...ummmmm...errrr? Izzie is having sex with ghost?!
Sad to say but when one of your main characters is having sex with a ghost its a little hard for even to most die hard fan to turn a blind eye to your show's ridiculousness. Just sayin'.
Stage 2: Anger
Why you have to do this to me Grey's?! I will bitch about your ridiculousness to everyone I know, including on a blog that no one reads. You won an EMMY Grey's for godssakes, and now I have to deal with characters who come and go like it ain't no thang [What exactly happened to Dr. Hahn!? And that Sadie chick? Was her only purpose to look hot and get her appendix out?] and worse yet, with plot lines that start, stop, and get dropped into oblivion [Hey! Remember how Izzie actually has a fucking kid!?].
Stage 3: Bargaining
Maybe Grey's can get better! Maybe if they just gave George a story and some actual lines to read! Maybe if they just finally let Meredith and Derek be together without all this nonsense! Maybe if Lexie wasn't so insipid and annoying! Maybe if there was some actual character development instead of this all this sudden out of nowhere hey guess what someone is a lesbian stuff! Maybe if heaven forbid they brought Burke back! Maybe if they brought Addison back! [<----that last thing would work btw. Because Addison is awesome. That schlock Private Practice is not awesome however.]
Enough maybes. It is over. No matter what you do, nothing can save this trainwreck of a show now. Sigh.
Stage 4: Depression
What am I going to do on Thursday nights now ABC? Well, actually I haven't watched Grey's live for awhile now and catch it online, and watch 30 Rock in the same time slot instead. So I guess that point is moot.
But I was depressed for awhile, my once favorite show ruined. I watched the old episodes on my computer, you know, to remember the good times. I guess we'll always have that hilarious Christmas episode where Izzie flips out and yells "Because it's what Jesus would freakin' do!" Classic. [If you watched the show, you know exactly what moment I am talking about.]
What happened Grey's? You used to be funny! And then you got all self-serious and annoying. It's like what happened to Kanye - Gold Digger was pretty humorous, but then he released 808s and Heartbreak and now he's interrupting precocious blond country singers. Really, you took the same path Grey's.
But here we go, just for old times sake:
Stage 5: Acceptance
It's okay, Grey's. We'll always have the good times. When I need some high melodrama I can always watch those season 2 episodes where Izzie cut Denny's LVAD wire on my iTunes, because those were pretty tense. And George, you and wonky haircut will always have a special place in my heart.
But I've moved on now, and I'm alright with that. You know how several years down the road you meet some long lost friend from high school and they've turned into a drunk/slut/douche/Republican but even then you still kind of love them just because once in an encapsulated moment in time, they were awesome? Yeah, that's how I will always love my Seattle Grace interns. And maybe if Grey's has a renaissance of sorts, I'll go head and give it another shot. But for now, I can get my blood-splattering action more brilliantly elsewhere:
So Grey's this is the end, beautiful friend. Consider this the episode ending goodbye montage, as the soothing tones of some singer-songwritery female voice fills our ears with her wisdom. It was good while it lasted, but greener pastures call. Seriously.
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