Day 27: I can see the end and it is beautiful

A long time ago I wrote an open letter to Rene Zellweger. In it I expressed certain issues that had been bothering me, namely her penchant for a tooth pick like physique. It is in that spirit that I present the second of my open letters - that to the lovely doctors of Seattle Grace Hospital.

Dear Doctors of Seattle Grace Hospital (ahem Grey's Anatomy),

You guys need Zoloft. I know Seattle is a dreary place and some people have that seasonal affective disorder, but seriously, cheer up. If I was to ever visit Seattle and get into a horrible freak accident and end up at your hospital I don't think I'd want any of you operating on me. Sorry, but its true. You see, I am of a school of thought that scalples and sexual tension do not mix, much like vinegar and vomit.

Even so I find myself captivated every week and would like to know why. I find you all incredibly whiney and yet I cannot stop watching. Your soap opera OR lives reminds me of ER back in the good days before Uncle Jesse (Seriously, wtf? He is a close second to people I don't want treating me in a medical emergency.) joined the cast and George Clooney was still rocking it, being a man-slut pediatrician. In fact, I think Dr. Ross left Chicago to go to Seattle. (!!!) I digress. Remember on ER, when it was Nurse Hathaway and Dr. Ross and will they or won't they and Dr. Carter will he ever get some loving. So I guess you all have that going you.

And Meredith Grey! Remember that time when you swore off the sex and decided to take up knitting? How goofy was that! I have to say that bothered me a little bit. You were doing it wrong. You don't knit a sweater that way. Na uh. Not that I have ever knit a sweater but I have seen one knitted in real life and it was kind of different from the way you knit it. But props to you for taking your knitting to a bar. That's how to rock it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that against my better judgment, I like you guys. Yeah I know. I want to barf too. Just send me somewhere else if I end up in your emergency room, ok?

Lots of Love,
Mary