EXPLORE All The Shades of Grey

So I’m one of the new kids. There are some new writers on Grey’s this year, and at the beginning, being the new kid felt alarmingly like it did when I was nine and went to sleep-away camp with a bunch of girls who had Jordache jeans and I didn’t have Jordache jeans and I was really convinced it was going to be the end for me. Everyone here on the staff was incredibly sweet and welcoming, and yet still I had major “What the hell do I wear today” anxieties, and “Oh my god, I just spoke a sentence that used the word ‘like’ fourteen times” anxieties, and… all the anxieties really. I had them all. You’d think that past age 30 you kind of get that crap under control. Apparently not. So be patient with my blog, because it’s my first blog, and I don’t know what I’m doing.

The nervous condition came and went over the first weeks on the job, but I think I officially got over it dealing with Cristina and the chicken. Cristina’s decided she’s going to help Burke get back on the horse after his hand surgery, (so sweet, so generous, so unexpected from Cristina) and she’s going to do it by having him practice operating on dead chickens. So when it came time to shoot the episode, there were long conversations with the fantastic production team about the hacking of the chicken. Was it just a chicken breast? Was it a whole fryer? The folks from sets and props had to design a cutting board that could be built into Burke’s counter top, so it wouldn’t fly off the counter, as there was a lot of concern about Sandra Oh getting hit in the face with either a meat cleaver or a chicken. The conversation continued when we hit the stage to rehearse the move with Sandra. Could she get through the bird in one hack or would it take two? (I thought it should be one. It was important to me. I don’t know why.) We had rehearsal chickens. We had stunt chickens. We discovered that the stunt chickens, which had balloons inside them instead of bones, emitted some sort of evil stinky salmonella gas that threatened to kill Sandra on the spot. It was scary. In the end, she made it through in one incredibly satisfying hack. The whole thing just made me really happy.

That and the threesome, which was pretty happy-making too. I think if I was having a dream about being in bed with Derek Shepherd and Finn Dandridge, and my roommate woke me up, I’d come at him with a salmonella-coated meat cleaver. The dream scene, which turned out so beautifully, was a riot on the stage. Ellen and Chris and Patrick couldn’t stop laughing. Not for a minute. And yet it came out looking so dreamy and idyllic. And even after the dream, Meredith is so optimistic, so idyllically happy about the prospect of dating two men at the same time. It never worked for me – dating more than one guy at a time. I’m married now, and so I look back fondly on my playing the field days, but it was always a nightmare when there was more than one person in the mix. I couldn’t keep it all straight. I couldn’t remember what I said to whom, and who had told me the story about putting a dead cat in their freezer. It wasn’t dreamy and idyllic, it was stressful. And yet Meredith seems to handle it so well. Better than the guys, certainly, who get so wrapped up in the competition, they can’t seem to focus on the girl.

And then there’s George, who’s so focused on the girl he can’t think straight. But not in a good way. She’s in his space. It’s one of those you-don’t-have-a-place-to-live-and-we-sleep-together-half-the-time-anyway-so-why-don’t-you-move-in-with-me impulse moves that are always a terrible idea. Terrible. And yet it happens all the time. Particularly in places like New York, where the rent is through the roof, and so it seems totally reasonable to ditch your crappy 6th floor walk-up that you share with three friends and somebody’s unemployed cousin Waldo and move in with your new dude, even though you’ve only had three dates, and you’re not sure what his last name is. I’ve been there. It’s a crappy idea. It never would have occurred to George and Callie to shack up that early in the relationship. But she was homeless and it seemed like the polite thing to do, and suddenly he’s made the offer and backing out of it seems rude and horribly cruel, and yet he can’t handle this. And so he’s a basket case all day. TR’s performance of “Robin, he just marches into the Batcave, like, here I am, give me some tights, I’m gonna borrow your towel” could not have been more fabulous.

And how about Supergirl? First of all, I still can’t believe we landed Little Miss Sunshine. Abigail Breslin may be the best actor I’ve ever seen. She’s ten, or nine, or some young age where she shouldn’t be the best actor anyone’s ever seen and yet she’s amazing. And how adorable is Alex with her? Just when you thought you couldn’t fall any more in love with him in, suddenly he’s being nice to children and it’s all over.

But my favorite thing might be Addison slapping Mark. It was Shonda’s idea. I thought she was insane. I said, “She’s trying to let him down easy, he just flew across the country to scratch her itch, she’s buried her about-to-be-divorcee devastation in his very well defined chest, he’s proclaiming his true love, she can’t slap him in the face.” And Shonda replied, “Yes. She can.” And so it went in the script, and sure enough, Shonda was right. It was amazing. Kate Walsh pulled it off brilliantly. She’s as surprised as he is, when it happens. It’s a panic move. She smacks him because if she doesn’t, she’ll just kiss him again, and then her clothes’ll be off again, right there on the floor of Joe’s Bar, and she can’t have that, she has to get on with her life.

Izzie’s trying to get on with her life too, in an incredibly valiant way. But she can’t. It was heartbreaking, watching her standing outside that hospital all day. It was 95 degrees out when we shot it, and she’s wearing Denny’s sweater, so on top of the emotional devastation, we were a little worried Katie Heigl was going to pass out. Katie was fine. But Izzie was wrecked. She thought that she could take back her life, through sheer force of will, but it’s too much. We all wanted her to walk through that door. We all wanted to believe that she could bounce back. Still be a doctor. Be a superhero. Step out of the wreckage, brush herself off, and walk on. But she can’t.

It was incredible to watch, and incredible to be a part of. I’m still nervous most of the time, convinced that at any moment they’re going to turn to me and say “You, you don’t belong here, away with you.” But until that happens, it’s a great ride.