So In Love

It has to be said, I have to confess, finally, that I am totally utterly, completely in love love love with Greys Anatomy. On so many levels. This astounds me somewhat, that I could be so besotted with a crowd of narcissistic, self obsessed, immoral, horribly opinionated, serial sexaholics, but I am. There is not an ounce of moral fibre in any of them but in love I am. And it doesn't stop there. No, I have allowed Greys to infiltrate so much of my life that I use "Greys Speak" often in my normal everyday conversations. Corinne is "my person". Unless you are a Fundy yourself, you won't get it. I do, and I have a person. It gives me the warm fuzzies that finally there is a perfect description for a best best best friend. I have a person, people.

Since being Greyed, it is so easy to voice my upset at silly, annoying, stupid, thoughtless or cruel people. No longer do I have to plumb the depths of my backbone to find the courage to voice my dissent. No longer do I have to think of words that fit together to say something in defence of the situation or to slap the idiot down. No, thanks to Greys all I have to do is arch an eyebrow (which took some practice in front of the mirror to get it perfectly ironically arched) and say "Seriously?". And this word is amazing. You can say it flat like a statement, lilt the end like a question, bark it out like a command. It is the all purpose shut up and think command. I love it. Seriously.

No more for me evenings of morbid self pity, no. I dance it off. Thanks to Christina Yang, I have the perfect pick me up for a shitty mood. I dance it off. The fact that I dance it off to the Greys Anatomy Soundtracks I, II and III is a little tragic, but it is so, so good. And most of the music from Greys is by militant anarchic chic bands. Nothing better to dance off an "all men are idiots" mood to a song called "Lifespan of a Fly" or "Your Head's too Big".

Monday nights for me are sacrosanct. Between 7:30 and 8:30 I am mesmerised. And what a perfect combo. Hot thirty and forty something professionals all chasing each other round the doctor's lounges and sneaking in and out of utility rooms, a bit of blood and gore and snapping of bones, human angst and a wry look at the human condition. I am hooked.

So hooked that one evening I worked out that its only Miranda Bailey and The Chief who haven't vicariously slept with the entire staff. They even chuck a few patients into the mix. Its a Petrie dish of human emotion and raw, unanaesthetised pleasure seeking.

I have decided if I were ever in the position to be hospitalised at Seattle Grace, I would never leave. They would have to get an eviction order. Ooh and that is such a provocative thought; hot steamy doctors and unemotional, feisty lawyers. What an episode!