Morning all,
I was in Miami for a wedding over the New Years holiday, staying in an Airbnb with 10ish people for five days. As an introvert, this is always a tall order, no matter how much I love my friends. One of the nights, the friend I was sharing a room (and bed) with asked if I’d like to watch some Grey’s Anatomy with her, and if it would bother me to jump into a random episode. She was at the Denny ghost era. Having watched and rewatched this show in varying degrees of intensity and completion—and by completion I mean to the plane crash, because to watch after that takes a great deal of strength that I think can only be mustered up once, I was no stranger to dipping back in. And when I agreed to watch “just one episode” with her, I knew what I was realistically signing up for. The moment my friend flipped open her laptop and I saw Denny, eyes twinkling, in a gray crew neck sweater, I knew. I was going to rewatch Grey’s. From the beginning. Yet again.
The last time this happened was in 2018. I was home visiting my mom and she was on season 13. I scoffed at this, and “allowed” the show to be on in the background as I sat on the couch and played on my phone. While the bones of the show felt a little different, and the cast almost entirely swapped out, I spent the rest of my weekend nestled into the couch with my mom, shoveling a rotation of soup and stove-popped popcorn as we watched a constant stream of Grey’s. We sailed into season 14 and the moment I got back to New York, I went back to Season 1 to do it all over again.
So yeah, present me with Denny and I’m in.
My social batteries drained as the wedding festivities continued, and all I could think about was Seattle Grace.
On my last night in Miami, I finally surrendered:
And what’s the difference, really, between settling into a hot tub and settling into S1 E1.
This is me baiting you.
How can you listen to this song and not want to look at Christina Yang’s face for 10 hours straight.
In case that didn’t work, I’ll toss you this one:
Watching Grey’s Anatomy is an exercise in staying present because if I think even just an episode or two in the future away from Meredith and Derek kissing in the elevator, and see flashes what’s to come (spoiler, but also this show has been on for 47 years and I’ve watched and rewatched so many times at this point and knowing what happens never quite numbs the pain, thrill, joy or nausea so we’re good here): when Meredith sleeps with George, Cali’s weird outfits, the Denny of it all, when the Denny of it all begins to rot and you’re taken out of it, Izzy’s terrible hair, Meredith’s fake death, or the musical numbers, it feels like too much to go on. Oh god and the Addison spinoff test. Season 1-3 is a balm. A salve. The perfect hibernation companion. And I have to stay present to enjoy it.
To get very vulnerable with you: I’ve reached S2 E22 in just 1.5 weeks. This week did include a flight, but this is impressive and sad and lovely nonetheless. (draft edit update: I’ve reached season 3.)
I’ve grown to accept the fact that the to-do list is not going to be addressed until I hit the LVAD episode and need to take a break (the vision of Meredith’s post-sex with Derek black underwear pinned to a cork board will eventually propel me forward), and so I’ve started creating an “any carryover from yesterday” item. So basically what I’m saying is that my Grey’s hibernation is bringing me a profound sense of self-awareness and mindfulness. I ❤️ TV.
When I close my eyes I see Ellen Pompeo and I can’t say I’m upset about that.
Till next week,
🩺 ariella 🩻