Azul, blanco y rojo... voilá!

Empezaste a pensar que todo esto tiene que tener un mensaje subliminal, unas palabritas entre líneas. Es que, no puede ser. De repente, la ciudad, el mundo (para ser más exactos) se encuentra lleno de signos que decodifican únicamente, la palabra FRANCIA.

Como todos los domingos, saliste a almorzar/merendar/cenar (nunca sabés bien a qué comida pertenece) con tu familia paterna. El estar supuestamente "cuidándote", te llevó a buscar alimentos al mismo lugar que vas siempre. "Brioche dorée". Por primera vez en meses, lo observás con más atención. No sólo todo el menú está en francés, no sólo los sandwiches ríquisimos que sirven son recetas francesas, no sólo su slogan es "Francia en tu boca", sino que además, hasta el packaging de los sandwiches (la bolsita) es un diseño claramente parisino. Y luego de haber visto películas y series que transcurren en París, esas bolsitas ya las conocés muy bien.

Pasando al caso número dos, no sos la primera persona a la que le pasa que nota que la ciudad está empapelada con afiches de la "Alianza Francesa". Apurada, vas recorriendo las mismas cuadras de siempre hasta Acoyte, para comprarte esas sandalias romanas color camel, hasta que se te hace imposible no frenar súbitamente, al ver el anuncio con un enorme: "OUI".

Ahora, esto no es todo. Al parecer, en la televisión quieren dejarte también algún tipo de mensaje. A las 22 hs, por Telefé, pasan ese programa que a tu mamá le encanta y que se te hace inevitable mirar a la hora de la cena. Con una estética y guión excelente, "Los exitosos Pells", suelen atrapar tu atención todos los días, en especial cuando Martín Pells (o Gonzalo Echague) y Sergio, se encuentran charlando en el camarín.
M.P: Tengo que buscar la forma de que me deje en paz.
S: ¿Quién? ¿Tomás?
M.P: No..... Tomy Lee Jones.
S: No! Toooooomy!
Se ve que los guionistas y musicalizadores se encuentran apasionados con el idioma francés, porque no hacen más que: poner versiones de canciones famosísimas, pero en francés (como por ej.: "Something stupid like i love you"), crear diálogos que terminan con expresiones en francés como: "mon cherri", "au revoir", "bon jour", "merci", y ni hablar de las veces que Pells canta a capella en francés.

Hace un mes aproximadamente, encontraste por fin el nombre y la letra de una canción excelente y muy conocida: "La vie in rose". Al oírla, no solo te enamoraste de la voz de Edith Piaf, sino que fue directamente a tu nick de msn y decidiste que no se fuera de ahí nunca más. La semana pasada, empezó este reality del que fuiste fan años atrás. "Operación Triunfo" o mejor dicho "Operación Gran Hermano". Miraste la primera edición, lo odiaste y ahí lo dejaste. Sin embargo, no dejó de asombrarte el hecho de que justo este año, una mujer con una voz impresionante, haya elegido comenzar cantando justo este tema (que, por si no quedo claro, es en francés).

No son detalles menos importantes, el hecho de que fue este verano, cuando terminaste de ver una de tus series favoritas: "Sex and the city", y quedaste maravillada con todas las escenas de Carrie en Paris, sus outfits, su ventana del hotel con vista a la Torre Eiffel, Big recorriendo la ciudad para decirle que la ama...

También, haberte fascinado con "The Devil wears Prada" y la semana de la moda en Paris; que "ciertos" conocidos tuyos, en Facebook, hayan subido fotos alucinantes de sus viajes de este año (casualmente, a la gran mayoría se le dio por ir a Paris); que una de tus mejores amigas te haya comentado que pensó en comenzar a estudiar francés en la Alianza; que descubras que tus tías y abuelas de 70 años no sepan pronunciar "Burger King" pero que, en cambio, la tengan clarísima si tienen que decir: "Bon jour, mon amour!".







Y claro. Por supuesto que todo esto no hubiera llamado en lo más mínimo tu atención, sino fuera por el hecho de que fue el 16 de este mes, que tomaste la decisión de hacer algo que siempre quisiste, pero que nunca se te había ocurrido como opción. Inscribirte para que, todos los lunes y jueves de 13:30 a 15 hs, en el Centro Armenio, aprendas a decir algo más que: "je t'aime"...


(Eso y que toda tu vida hayas soñado con ir a Paris, decididamente deben tener algo que ver con todo ese sinfín de casualidades... pienso yo, nosé, vos fijáte.)

My Grey's Manual. (vol II)

• In general, lines are there for a reason. For security, for clarity. If you choose to cross the line, you pretty much do so at your own risk. So why is it that the bigger the line, the greater the temptation to cross it? We can't help ourselves. When we see a line, we want to cross it. Maybe it’s the thrill of the unfamiliar, a sort of personal dare. The only problem is once that you’ve crossed, it’s almost impossible to go back. But, if you do manage to make it back across the line, you find safety in numbers.

C: Get out of bed, we're gonna be late.

M: I have a feeling.

C: You have a feeling?

M: Yes.

C: What kind of feeling?

M: Like I might die.

C: Today? Tomorrow? In 50 years? We're all going to die eventually. Now we're late! Let's go!

M: Oh Cristina, c'mon!

C: What? I'm being supportive.

M: Really?

C: Yeah, this is me being totally supportive. Go on.

M: Okay. The man I love has a wife and then he chooses her over me. Then the wife takes my dog. Well, she didn't actually take my dog. I gave it to her. But I didn't mean to give it to her, I meant to give it to him, and that doesn't change the fact that she's got Derek. And my McDog. She's got my McLife! What have I got? I can't even remember the last time we kissed. Because you never think the last time is the last time. You think you have forever, but you don't. Plus my conditioner decided to stop working and I think I have brittle bones. I need something to happen. I just need a sign. I need a reason to go on. I need some hope, and in the absence of hope, I need to stay in bed and feel like I might die today.

C: Whatever. Everybody has problems. Get your ass out of bed and get to work. NOW! Move, move, move!

M: I have this feeling.

D: I get that feeling also. If you wait long enough, it will pass.

M: Do you promise?

D: I promise.

I: Take off your pants.

A: Izzie, what are you doing?

I: I'm being a doer. Getting while the getting's good. Now take off your pants.

A: You realize when I said the apocalypse before, I meant it metaphorically, not literally.

I: Alex, I haven't had sex in eight months and 12 days. I'm horny, I'm half-naked, and I'm saying yes. Do you want to stand there and talk metaphors, or do you want to literally take off your pants?

M: Tell me something.

C: What?

M: Cristina. I have my hand on a bomb, I’m freaking out, and most importantly, I really have to pee. Just please tell me anything.

C: He told me he loved me. Last night. He thought I was sleeping, but I heard him say it.

M: Burke loves you.

C: [to Dylan] Mind your own business.

M: He loves you!

C: Yeah. everybody has problems.

M: Well are you gonna say it back?

C: Of course not! He didn’t say it to me, he said it to sleeping me! Reciprocity is not required. Besides, he might blow up.

M: Excellent point.

M: I can't, I can't remember our last kiss. All I could think about was 'I'm going to die today' and I can't remember our last kiss. Which is pathetic but the last time we were together and happy... I want to be able remember that. And I can't, Derek. I can't remember.

D: I'm glad you didn't die today. (...)

It was a Thursday morning, you were wearing that ratty little Dartmouth t-shirt you look so good in. The one with the hole at the back of the neck. You'd just washed you hair and smelled like some kind of... flower. I was running late for surgery, you said you were going to see me later, and you lean to me, put your hand on my chest and you kissed me. Soft. It was quick. Kind of like a habit. You know, like we'd do it everyday for the rest of our lives. Then you went back reading the newspaper and I went to work. That was the last time we kissed.

M: (...) Lavender. My hair smelled like lavender... from my conditioner.

D: Lavender. Huh.

• I've heard that it’s possible to grow up, I've just never met anyone who’s actually done it. Without parents to defy, we break the rules we make for ourselves. We throw tantrums when things don’t go our way. We whisper secrets with our best friend in the dark. We look for comfort where we can find it. And we hope against all logic, against all experience, like children, we never give up hope. After careful consideration and many sleepless nights, here’s what I've decided. There's no such thing as a grown-up. We move out, we move away from our families. But the basic insecurities, the fears and all the old wounds just grow up with us. Just when you think life has forced you to truly become an adult, your mother says something like that. We get bigger, taller, older. But, for the most part, we're still a bunch of kids, running around the playground, trying desperately to fit in.

G: Why is he suturing his own face?

C: To turn me on...

A: Because he's Mark Sloan. The guy is like the go-to plastic surgeon on the east coast.

G: That’s the guy Addison was sleeping with.

I: Can you really blame her?

C: No, not really.

G: Yes, you can.

M: Well McSexy wants an X-ray to check for fractures and I think it’s a bad idea if I go with him.

G: Why?

A: I'm on it.

G: Why is that a bad idea?

C: McSexy?

M: That's not right.

I: McYummy?

C: Mmm... no.

M: McSteamy.

C: There it is!

I: Yup.

G: Allow me to choke back some McVomit.

Ma: You and I are the dirty mistresses.

Mer: I suppose we are. Why do you think that is?

Ma: My $400-dollar-an-hour shrink says it’s because behind this rugged and confident exterior, I'm self-loathing and self-destructive to an almost pathological degree.

Mer: We have a lot in common.

Ma: It's funny. Derek walks in on me naked with his wife, and just turns around and walks away. But then he sees me so much as talking to you, and I'm on the ground bleeding. Interesting, don't you think?

P: I am Preston Burke. I am a widely renowned cardio-thoracic surgeon. I am a professional and moreover I am a good, kind person. I am a person that cleans up after himself. I am a great cook. And you? You are an unbelievable slob. A slovenly, angry intern. I am Preston Burke. And you... are the most competitive, guarded, stubborn... the most challenging person I have ever met. And I love you. Why the hell won't you just let me?

C: I gave up my apartment 20 minutes ago.

P: Well, alright then.

• Okay, so, sometimes even the best of us make rash decisions. Bad decisions. Decisions we pretty much know we're going to regret the moment, the minute, especially the morning after. I mean, maybe not regret, regret because at least, you know, we put ourselves out there, but still, something inside us decides to do a crazy thing. A thing we know will probably turn around and bite us in the ass and yet, we do it anyway. What I'm saying is... we reap what we sow, what comes around, goes around. It's karma and, any way you slice it... karma sucks. One way or another our karma will leave us to face ourselves. We can look our karma in the eye or we can wait for it to sneak up on us from behind. One way or another, our karma will always find us. No matter how hard we try. We can't escape our karma. It follows us home. I guess we can't really complain about our karma. It's not unfair. It's not unexpected. It just... evens the score. And even when we're about to do something we know will tempt karma to bite us in the ass... well, it goes without saying... We do it anyway.

M: How do you know I did something and not George?

A: Because Bambi looks upset and you look guilty.

A: That's what you do. When you feel sorry for yourself, you get drunk and sleep with inappropriate men. It's okay. I find it charming.

A: I’m gonna show you something and when I do, you do not get to laugh and you do not get to gloat.

D: Why would I gloat?

A: I have poison oak.

D: What? (...) Hmm. You do indeed have poison oak.

A: SO ARE WE EVEN YET? I MEAN... IS THIS BAD ENOUGH? Have we repaid my debt to society, Derek? [Derek starts laughing. Addison throws a pillow at him, he throws it back. She too starts to laugh]

D: Alright. Let's take a look.

A: Get out!

• My college campus has a magic statue. It’s a tradition for students to rub its nose for good luck. My freshman roommate really believed in it and insisted on rubbing its nose before every exam. Studying might have been a better idea. She flunked out her sophomore year. But we all have little superstitious, things that we do. If it's not believing in magic statues, it's avoiding sidewalk cracks or always putting our left shoe on first. Knock on wood. Step on a crack, break your mother's back. The last thing we want to do is offend the gods. Superstition lies in the space between what we can control and what we can't. Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck. No one wants to pass up a chance for good luck. But does saying it 33 times really help? Is anyone actually listening? Why do we bother doing those strange things? We rely on superstitions because we're smart enough to know we don't have all the answers.. and that life works in mysterious ways. Don't diss the juju, from wherever it comes.

D: Juju?

A: Yup.

D: You just juju'ed Meredith.

A: Yes I did. In the spirit of friendship.

D: Huh.

A: What, are we not being friends with Meredith anymore?

D: No, no, we are. Meredith and I are friends.

A: And you and I are married, so by proxy, Meredith and I are friends.

D: That’s very big of you.

A: Yeah.

D: [laughs] You don’t have to do that. I mean, it's not like I'm going to be friends with, say, Mark.

A: Well, neither am I. Now finish your juju before somebody else dies.

I: I need Burke's cap, now.

C: Excuse me?

I: Are you going to give it to him or am I going to physically take it from you?

C: Are you threatening me?

I: I swear to god, Cristina... I like you. I really do. But I grew up in a trailer park and I am not above kicking your pampered little Beverly Hills ass. And I do mean physically kicking your ass.

• The first step toward a real cure is to know exactly what the disease is, to begin with. But that’s not what people want to hear... We're supposed to forget the past that led us here, ignore the future complications that might arise and go for the quick fix. As doctors, as friends, as human beings, we all try to do the best we can. But the world is full of unexpected twists and turns. Just when you’ve gotten the lay of the land, the ground underneath you shifts. It knocks you off your feet. If you're lucky, you end up with nothing more than a flesh wound, something a band-aid will cover. But some wounds are deeper than they first appear, and require more than just a quick fix. With some wounds, you have to rip of the band-aid, let them breathe and give them time to heal.

M: There’s a line, between friends and not friends. And if I tell you this, if I tell you this horrible thing, then you have to react as my friend. Not as my not friend.

D: I can do that. Alright, tell me what’s wrong, I'll tell you how to fix it.

M: Okay, are you ready?

D: I’m ready.

M: I... I slept with George. I slept with him and it was a horrible mistake. Now everything has changed and I don’t know how to repair it. I don’t even know where to start, but I just know that I have to and...

D: You tell him that. You find George and you apologize.

M: That’s what everyone’s saying but he won't listen.

D: You tell him you’re sorry. Just tell him again and again and again until he listens.

M: How do I make him?

D: Do what I do... use the elevator.

M: You’re trapped. You... you don’t have to talk. I’ll do the talking, George. I am truly, very deeply sorry. I’m not going to make excuses, I’m just sorry. Look... I know you’re going to get off this elevator and walk away and not look back. But George, we're friends, real friends. And that means, no matter how long it takes, when you finally do decide to look back, I’ll still be here.

• A good basketball game can have us all on the edge of our seats. Games are all about the glory, pain and the play-by-play. Then there are the more solitary games. The ones we play all by ourselves. The social games, the mind games. We use them to pass the time to make life more interesting... to distract us from what's really going on. There are those of us who love to play games, any games. And there are those of us who love to play a little too much. So go ahead. Argue with the ref, change the rules. Cheat a little, take a break and tend to your wounds. But play. Play. Play hard, play fast... play loose and free. Play as if there were no tomorrow. It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game... right?

D: Come on, have a drink.

M: I can't have a drink, I'm celibate.

J: You mean sober? She means sober.

M: No, I mean celibate. I'm practicing celibacy. Drinking does not go well with celibacy because it makes everything and everyone seem kind of porny. Then my head gets all cloudy and the next thing you know... I'm naked. My point is that I'm celibate, and knitting is good for surgical dexterity, so I'm making a sweater.

D: You? Celibate? I don't buy it.

M: No more men.

A: No more men? Really? You? I'm just asking, because we're friends.

M: Every guy I meet turns out to be married.

D: Oh... ouch.

M: Or Mark.

A: Okay, I'm going to sit over there now.

M: Sorry. Or... remember the horrible thing I did? Remember George?

D: You're making a sweater.

M: I'm making a sweater.

T: Yeah. I... I didn’t know what to say to her. She looks... so much like her mother. Ellis was cold. I mean, I was a coward, I was. I left. But her mother would never let me know her and now, I don’t know how to know her.

G: Well, Meredith is anything but cold. She smiles... not that often, but when she does, you know because she's really going through a lot, but it's… you just feel warm. She's kind. I mean, she can be a little selfish at times, and she's flawed. But she's kind. She cares about people and, um... she cares about her patients. She's going to be a brilliant surgeon. You know, around here, she's known as the one to beat. So, I... I guess she has that in common with her mom, but the rest of her, I think, the rest of that, she gets from you.

T: Hmm... do you... know where she is?

G: I think she left already. But I could tell her you were here, if you want me to.

T: Yeah. Okay. Thank you.

G: You're welcome.

T: Okay.

G: Okay. Bye.

T: Bye.

M: [whispering, hiding] Thank you, George.

R: I'm done! I finished. I finished first. Yes, I am Dr. Webber. That is why I am the Chief! That's why I'm the Chief!

R: Old school, Yang. Muscle control. When in doubt, always stick to the basics.

I: Oh my God... George is her McDreamy!

• There are days that make the sacrifices seem worthwhile. Then there are the days where everything feels like a sacrifice. And then there are the sacrifices that you can't even figure out why you're making. A wise man once said you can have anything in life, if you will sacrifice everything else for it. What he meant is nothing comes without a price. So before you go into battle, you better decide how much you're willing to lose. Too often, going after what feels good means letting go of what you know is right, and letting someone in, means abandoning the walls you've spent a lifetime building. Of course, the toughest sacrifices are the ones we don't see coming, when we don't have time to come up with a strategy to pick a side or to measure the potential loss. When that happens, when the battle chooses us and not the other way around, that's when the sacrifice can turn out to be more than we can bear.

F: So you and Derek... are you together?

M: Uhhh... Derek and I are, um, just friends. He's married and I am knitting a sweater. And, um, well, I guess I'm rambling which I tend to do a lot lately and I just wish that someone would just tell me to shut... My point is uh ... we're, um... he's married and I'm knitting a sweater.

F: I see. So, you're single?

M: Single?

F: I ask because I was wondering if you would like to go out with me.

M: Out, with you?

F: On a date. Tonight.

M: A date? Tonight?

F: And you're repeating everything I say so you can buy yourself some time and figure out a way to let me down easy. It's okay, you know, I get it.

M: No. I... I... um... you know you're very... it's just that if I were, you would... Not dating!

M: Obviously I can't go out with him, right?

A: Do I look like a chick to you? Do I look like I care about yeast cream or tingling feelings? He's not on drugs or in jail or keeping body parts in his basement. If you wanna do 'em, do 'em.

M: Not do him. Date him. I'm not doing anybody. I'm knitting.

F: This shouldn’t take too long. We can grab some dinner right after.

M: After?

F: After she gives birth.

M: You're birthing a horse?

F: Yeah.

M: That's your errand? You're birthing a horse?

F: Yeah. I guess I could have mentioned it before but, you know, I didn't want to scare you back to your knitting. You can wait back here.

M: Back here?

F: If you want. I mean it gets a little messy.

M: No, I want to birth a horse!

F: Here's the deal. You have two options. You could, come up to my place, take off all your clothes, shower off the goo, borrow one of my shirts and I'll cook you dinner. That’s door number one. Door number two… you go home. I think you ought to take door number one, because it involves you naked in my apartment. But, you know, that's just me.

M: I should point out that there's absolutely nothing you could say that would make me go upstairs with you. I'm kind of offended that you think that I would go upstairs with you. And you should know, that I... I'm celibate, so-

F: Shut up.

M: I absolutely can not have... sex, with you.

F: If you choose door number one, I absolutely will not have sex with you.

M: You won't?

F: I promise I won't. I won't even try to kiss you.

M: Why not?

F: Meredith.

M: What?

F: Choose door number one.

• We all go through life like bulls in a china shop. A chip here, a crack there. Doing damage to ourselves, to other people. The problem is trying to control the damage we've done, or that's been done to us. Sometimes the damage catches us by surprise. Sometimes we think we can fix the damage. We're all damaged, it seems. Some of us more than others. We carry the damage with us from childhood, then as grown-ups, we give as good as we get. Ultimately, we all do damage. And then, we set about the business of fixing whatever we can.


M: I don't cook.
F: Nobody asked you to cook.
M: I know. I'm just saying... you know, I don't cook. So you don't have to cook, I don't expect you to cook for me.
F: Okay, look. You, sit there. I want you to drink this and try really hard to act like you aren't scary and damaged.
M: I'm not scary and damaged.
F: Yeah, you are.
M: No, I'm not scary or damaged.
F: Mmm hmm. Alright. Why don't you tell me about your family?
M: Okay, me not wanting to talk about my family does not make me scary or damaged.
F: Okay, tell me about the last guy you slept with.
M: If you knew me... if you knew my family.. if I told you the guys that I've slept with lately... the scary and damaged may actually be more than you can handle.
F: My mother's dead. She got cancer when I was 10 and suffered for a really long time and then she died. My father never recovered. It's kind of like he died with her, except that he's above ground and permanently placed in front of a TV with a bottle of scotch in his lap. The last woman I slept with was my wife, but she died too. It was a car crash so it was quick. She didn't suffer, which I appreciated. Don't worry, I'm thinking that my luck is beginning to change, because I met you. You like dogs, and you enjoy pony births, and have the ability to save lives. I never said I wasn't scary and damaged too.


C: Don't worry about Bambi. If Burke can forgive me for falling asleep during sex, Bambi can forgive you for crying.
M: But Burke hasn't forgiven you.


I: So what's the sex like?
M: I wouldn't know.
I: Four dates and two sleepovers and no sex?
M: Not even a kiss goodnight.
I: Aww, I'm so proud. I am like a proud mama.
M: Shut up.


M: I never should have told you about George.
D: No, it's fine. I'm glad I know about him, and the vet. You really get around.
M: What did you just say to me?
D: It's unforgivable.
M: I don't remember ever asking you to forgive me.
D: So, was the knitting a phase? Who's next? Alex? I hear he likes to sleep around too. You two have that in common.


M: You don't get to call me a whore. When I met you, I thought I had found the person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I was done! All the boys and all the bars and all the obvious daddy issues, who cares? I was done. You left me. You chose Addison. I'm all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what you broke. You don't get to call me a whore.
D: This thing with us is finished. It's over.
M: Finally.
D: Yeah, it's done.
M: It is done.

• In life we're taught that there are seven deadly sins. We all know the big ones... gluttony, pride, lust. But the thing you don't hear much about is anger. Maybe it's because we think anger is not that dangerous, that you can control it. My point is, maybe we don't give anger enough credit. Maybe it can be a lot more dangerous than we think. After all, when it comes to destructive behavior, it did make the top seven. So, what makes anger different from the six other deadly sins? It's pretty simple really. You give in to a sin like envy or pride, and you only hurt yourself. Try lust or coveting and you'll only hurt yourself and one or two others. But anger is the worst... the mother of all sins... Not only can anger drive you over the edge, when it does, you can take an awful lot of people with you.

C: [watching Preston & Derek throw darts] He's picturing my face. He is totally picturing that dart puncturing my skull. Wooo, look at that.

I: Derek... Derek is picturing you.

M: He called me a whore. He lost the right to picture me.

C: So I fall asleep during sex. So what? Ass!

M: Ass!

D: What do you want from me, Addison?

A: I want you to care. I sleep with your best friend, and you walk away. Then he comes out here from New York and rubs it in your face, and you still get a good night's sleep. What do I have to do? Oh, I know. Maybe what I should do is go out on a date with the vet, because that seems to be something that sends you into a blinding rage. Oh, but wait. That won't work either because I'm not Meredith Grey!

A: I can't compete. He's not having an affair. He's not trying to hurt me. He's just... the only people who don't know that Derek loves Meredith, are Derek and Meredith. How do I compete with that?

D: [to Izzie] A kiss is worth a thousand words.

.

.

C: He's... he's been shot.

I: Burke's not coming.

M: Are you okay?

C: I'm fine.

I: Burke's not coming.

G: Why didn't I take the internship in San Diego? None of this would be happening if I was in San Diego.

I: Burke's not coming.

C: No, Izzie, Burke is not coming. I know you're having problems here, what with your murder charges and your unbelievebly stupid idea about stealing a heart, but Burke's kinda busy right now.

.

.

C: I'm not involved.

I: What if this was Burke? What if you were me?

C: This is bad. This is bad and serious and against a lot of rules. It's not fun for me.

I: What if you were me?

C: Well, I wouldn't have fallen in love with a patient.

I: You fell in love with an attending.

C: Well so did Mer, so what's the point?

M: The point is we can't help who we fall in love with.

.

.

M: Thank you... for calling me about Izzie.

G: I didn't do you any favors.

M: But it meant something. That you called. It meant something to me.

G: It didn't mean anything.

M: Right, okay. Sorry-

G: Stop saying you're sorry! (...) You wanna know something? I knew. I knew you didn't feel that way about me, even during... when we were in bed I knew. I knew and I still let it happen, because, um... well, I figured one night with you was better than never. So, will you just stop saying that you're sorry? 'Cause you didn't know any better, but I did. And I still let it happen. I'm sorry. (...) I'm sorry, Meredith.

.

.

C: Hey! We stick together, we all did this. Nobody's a victim. We stick together. Dammit!

I: Thank you.

C: You're welcome.

R: People! I know who did this, so you might as well come clean. I know!

G: With all due respect, sir, if you knew you wouldn't be asking us.

I: I did it.

M: You have your suspicions, but you don't actually know.

C: Not for sure.

G: And you can't do anything to any of us without proof, sir.

.

.

I: I cut the LVAT wire.

M: Actually, I cut the LVAT wire.

G: No, I did. I'm the one who cut the wire.

C: (...) Fine, I cut the LVAT wire.

A: I didn't do anything, I'm totally innocent.

I: He said marry me, right? He did? That really happened?
G: Really happened.
M: It really did.


I: Denny, um... I'm giving you an out.
D: Excuse me?
I: Well, I'm giving you an out. You thought you were dying and I was saving your life and well, you know, it was so... We can't get married. I mean that would be insane. We should date, and have sex. Plenty of sex. You know when your heart gets better and you're out of the hospital, all the sex you can handle. But marriage is... well, marriage.
D: It's my turn now.
I: But I need to-
D: No, no. We're taking turns. I've decided. It's polite and it keeps me from yelling. When it's your turn again, you can talk. For five years, I've had to live by the choices of my doctors. The guys that cut me open decided my life. There wasn't one choice that was mine. Now, I have this heart that beats, that works. I get to be like everybody else, I get to make my own decisions, have my own life, do whatever the damn hell I choose. Now here's the good part, so you listen close. What I choose... is you. You're who I want to wake up with and go to bed with and do everything in between with. I get a choice now. I get to choose. I choose you, Izzie Stevens. Okay, it's your turn again.


C: I didn't like teenage girls when I was a teenage girl.
M: I wore a lot of black.
C: Ooh.
M: Had the whole angry pink hair thing going on. Wouldn't have been caught dead at a prom.
C: My mother made me go. My date barfed on my dress and then tried to feel me up.


M: It’s a long story, which essentially ends with me inviting you to a prom.
F: An actual prom? Corsages and tuxedos?
M: Yeah, it's stupid, I know.
F: No, I'm in. I loved prom. I mean... I don't wanna brag or anything, but I was crowned king.
M: Really? You were that kid in high school?
F: What's wrong with being that kid?
M: Nothing, it's very cute actually.


A: Let's say you were drafted to a team that wasn’t your first pick. You know, you don't like the players. You hate the way they play the game. You even think the quarterback is full of crap. The quarterback's a pain in the ass you don't owe a damn thing to. But, it's your team. You don't quit. You don't talk to the press. You don't bitch to the coach. You just... you go out there on Sunday and you make the blocks and you take the hits and you play to win. You show up and you suit up and you play, because it's your freaking team.


C: You're right, it's not easy for me to be away from the O.R. And it's not easy for me to sit in front of you, or any other authority figure for that matter, and not be able to give you the exact answer that you want to hear. I'm the one with the answers. I've always been the one with the answers. But right now, sir, I don't have any. (...) No, you see sir, this is the point. Because I can't tell you. I can't tell you what happened in that room. And before, I could have. No guilt, no loyalties, no problem. Before, before I wouldn't have even been in that room. I wouldn't have gotten involved. I would have never frozen in surgery. I would have told him what I thought he should do. I had an edge sir. I had an edge and I've lost it, and I need it. I need it back. So, if you could just tell me, how you keep yours and how not to be affected, I know I could be a great surgeon. So if you could just give me the answers, I would really appreciate it.
R: You're excused, Dr. Yang.
C: But-
R: You're excused. Go.
C: I'll tell you, I'll tell you who cut the LVAT wires if you'll please-
R: No you won't, I don't wanna know. Not from you. Yeah, I have the answers, but I can't tell them to you. I'm not going to be responsible for you becoming less human.


G: Aren't you gonna say anything or ... I'm not gonna break... I'm starting to get a little freaked out, but I'm not gonna break. It's not because I don't care, because I do care what you think about me, I do. Care. I just can't tell you want you wanna hear. Which seems to be a theme in my life right now. Just because you can't say something doesn't mean you don't want to. You can want to very much. You can be with a person and be happy with them and not love them. And you can love somebody and not want to be with them. You don't need to love someone to want them. Now that's frustrating, when what your brain tells you, you want and what you actually want, don't match up. It's exhausting. And, well, its complicated. But that's life. And life... sucks.


I: I'm a pretty girl.
R: What?
I: I'm not being arrogant, it's just, it's just kind of a fact. For a long time I made a career from my looks, so I get it, I'm a pretty girl. And not in a 'from a certain angle' way, in an obvious way. It’s the blonde thing and the big boobs thing. Big boobs are a key to 'obvious pretty' if you know what I'm saying.
R: Dr. Stevens-
I: It's how men see me. I'm not a smart girl or an interesting girl, I'm a pretty girl. The blonde and the boobs, it confuses guys into thinking I'm someone else. And I'm used to it. And I'm used to them walking away when they realize… But then Denny goes and asks me to marry him.
R: Is that why you cut the wires?
I: He doesn't make me feel like I'm a pretty girl. He makes me feel like… like me. I think he might know me. And so, if I did cut the LVAT wire, and I'm not saying that I did, but if I did, then no. I don't feel guilty. I know that I should. I would if it were anybody else's. But I can't feel anything but happy.


R: I've known you for a long time. I know your mother and father. And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you did not cut those LVAT wires. Meredith, I need you to tell me who did it.
M: I've been going over this and over this in my mind trying to piece this together. It was you. You're the reason my parents broke up. And it wasn't just an affair, she really loved you. It wasn't just this cheap thing where she didn’t tell you she was married. It wasn't all a lie. She left her husband for you. But you stayed with your wife, because it was the right thing to do. Maybe safe, but she was the right person for you to be with. Let's face it, my mother? Nothing wrong with being safe, being with the good guy because he's good and we are talking about forever here. You've never regretted your decision. You've never looked back... right?


F: Liz... Liz was my wife. When she died... you do this thing where you stop making plans. Because you had plans but then there was a car crash and your plans disappeared so you just... I just try to get from sunup to sundown. That’s as far into the future as I can handle. I've been fine with that, I have, but right now, looking at you... damn, I have all kinds of plans. Don't freak out.
M: I'm not.
F: You're not?
M: No. You have plans.
F: I have plans.


D: Meredith.
M: Leave me alone.
D: Meredith-
M: Just leave me alone!
D: I just want to make sure you're alright.
M: No! I'm not alright? Okay? Are you satisfied? I'm not alright. Because you have a wife, and you call me a whore, and our dog died, and now you're looking at me again. Stop looking at me.
D: I'm not looking at you. I am not looking at you.
M: You are looking at me. And you watch me. And Finn has plans. I like Finn. He's perfect for me, and I'm really trying here to be happy, and I feel like I can't breathe. I can't breathe with you looking at me like that, so just stop!
D: You think I want to look at you? That I wouldn't rather be looking at my wife? I'm married. I have responsibilities. She doesn't drive me crazy. She doesn't make it impossible for me to feel normal. She doesn't make me sick to my stomach thinking about my veterinarian touching her with his hands. Man, I would give anything to not be looking at you!


D: What does this mean?
M: Uh, I had panties on. Black ones. Do you see them?
D: What does this mean?
M: Fix your tie.
D: Meredith, what does this mean!?


I: Can you please... please, just get out? I want to be alone with Denny.
A: Izzie, that’s not Denny.
I: Shut up.
A: Izz, its not Denny. The minute his heart stopped beating, he stopped being Denny. I know you love him... but he also loved you. And a guy that loves you like that, he doesn't want you to do this to yourself. Because its not Denny. Not any more.
I: An hour ago he was proposing. And now… and now he's going to the morgue. Isn't that ridiculous? Isn't it the most ridiculous piece of crap you've ever... =(


I: I changed my dress three times. I wanted to look nice. I would have been here sooner. But I couldn't figure out which dress to wear.

My Grey's Manual. (vol I)

• You need boundaries, between you and the rest of the world. Other people are far too messy. It’s all about lines... drawing lines in the sand and praying like hell no one crosses them. At some point, you have to make a decision. Boundaries don't keep other people out, they fence you in. Life is messy, that's how we're made. So you can waste your life drawing lines or, you can live your life crossing them. But there are some lines that are way too dangerous to cross. Here's what I know. If you're willing to throw caution to the wind and take a chance, the view from the other side... is spectacular.

M: We should forget it ever happened.
D: What? You sleeping with me last night? Or you throwing me out this morning? 'Cause both are fond memories I'd like to hang on to.
M: No, there will be no more memories. I'm not the girl in the bar anymore and you're not the guy. This can't exist. You get that, right?
D: You took advantage of me and now you want to forget it?
M: I did not take-
D: I was drunk vulnerable and good looking and you took advantage.
M: Okay. I was the one who was drunk and you are not that good looking.
D: Maybe not today, but last night I was very good looking. I had on my red shirt, my good-looking shirt, and you took advantage.
M: I did not!
D: Would you like to take advantage again, say Friday night?


D: So we're kissing but we're not dating?
M: I knew this was going to come up.
D: Don't get me wrong, I like the kissing. I'm all for the kissing. More kissing, I say!
M: I have no idea what that was about.
D: Is it going to happen again? Let me know next time. I'll bring breath mints. Put a condom in my wallet.
M: Shut up. Now.


D: It's not the chase.
M: What?
D: You and me. It is not the thrill of the chase. It's not a game. It's... it's your tiny ineffectual fists. And your hair.
M: My hair?
D: It smells nice. And you're very, very bossy. It keeps me in line.
M: I'm still not going out with you.
D: You say that now.


• Remember when you were a kid and your biggest worry was, like, if you'd get a bike for your birthday or if you'd get to eat cookies for breakfast. Being an adult? Totally overrated. I mean seriously, don't be fooled by all the hot shoes and the great sex and the no parents anywhere telling you what to do. Adulthood is responsibility. Responsibility, it really does suck. Really, really sucks. Adults have to be places and do things and earn a living and pay the rent. (...) Talk about responsibility. Kind of makes bikes and cookies look really, really good, doesn't it? The scariest part about responsibility? When you screw up and let it slip right through your fingers. Responsibility. It really does suck. Unfortunately, once you get past the age of braces and training bras, responsibility doesn't go away. It can't be avoided. Either someone makes us face it or we suffer the consequences. And still adulthood has it perks. I mean... the shoes, the sex, the no parents anywhere telling you what to do. That's, pretty damn good.


M: I guess we're adults. The question is, when did that happen, and how do we make it stop?


D: You know, in some states, you could get arrested for that... So you blew me off for a bottle of tequila? Tequila's no good for you. It doesn't call, doesn't write, not nearly as much fun to wake up to.
M: [kisses him] Take me for a ride, Derek.


• A couple of hundred years ago, Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. 'Never leave that 'til tomorrow...' he said, '...which you could do today.' This is the man who discovered electricity. You’d think more of us would listen to what he had to say. I don’t know why we put things off, but if I had to guess, I’d say it had a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure. Fear of pain. Fear of rejection. Sometimes the fear is just of making a decision, because what if you’re wrong. What if you make a mistake you can’t undo. Whatever it is we're afraid of, one thing holds true. That by the time, the pain of not doing the thing, gets worse than the fear of doing it. (...) We can't pretend we haven't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to ‘seize the day'. Still, sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore, until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping. And that even the biggest failure - even the worst and most entrapping mistake - beats the hell of never trying.


P: What is this? That we’re doing here. What is it?
C: You need a definition? You really want to be that guy?
P: Lock the door.


• You know when you were a little kid and you believed in fairy tales? That fantasy of what your life would be. White dress, Prince Charming who’d carry you away to a castle on a hill. You’d lie in your bed at night and close your eyes and you had complete and utter faith. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Prince Charming. They were so close you could taste them. But eventually you grow up and one day, you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears. Most people turn to the things and people they can trust. But the thing is, it’s hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely because, almost everyone has that smallest bit of hope and faith that, one day, they would open their eyes and it would all come true. At the end of the day, faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don’t really expect it. It’s like one day you realize that the fairy tale is slightly different than your dream. The castle, well it may not be a castle. And it’s not so important that it’s happily ever after... just that it’s happy right now. See, once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you. And once in a while, people may even take your breath away.


M: I want facts, and until I get them, my pants are staying on.
D: Or you could just roll with it, be flexible. See what happens.
M: I'm not flexible.
D: Now there I disagree... We'll find these things out. That's the fun part, you know? That's the gravy.
M: Give me something to go on. Anything! What are your grandparents’ names?
D: I don't have grandparents.
M: Where'd you grow up? What's your favorite flavor of ice cream? Where'd you spend your summer vacations?
D: Oh, lighten up. It'll be good for your blood pressure.
M: Don't you tell me to lighten up. I'll lighten up when I... feel light.


M: Where are we?
D: I'm gonna tell you. All right. My mother's maiden name, Maloney. I have four sisters. I have, uh, nine nieces. Five nephews. I like coffee ice cream, single-malt scotch, occasionally a good cigar. I like to fly fish. And I cheat when I do the crossword puzzle on Sunday. And I never dance in public. Um, favorite novel, The Sun Also Rises. Favorite band, The Clash. My favorite color is blue. I don't like light blue, indigo. The scar right here on my forehead, that's why I don't ride motorcycles anymore. And I live in that trailer. All this land is mine. I have no idea what I'm gonna do with it. So that's it. That's all you've earned for now. The rest you're just... just gonna have to take on faith.


• One thing is certain, whatever it is we're trying to hide; we're never ready for that moment when the truth gets naked. That's the problem with secrets... like misery, they love company. They pile up and up until they take over everything, until you don't have room for anything else, until you're so full of secrets you feel like you're going to burst. The thing people forget is how good it can feel when you finally set secrets free. Whether good or bad, at least they're out in the open, like it or not. And once your secrets are out in the open, you don't have to hide behind them anymore. The problem with secrets is even when you think you're in control, you're not.


M: Let's play the game of whose life sucks the most. I'll win. I always win.
C: You don't want to play with me.
M: Oh yes, I do. I'll even go first. Derek is married, as in pig-headed adulterous liar married.
C: George, you have beer... coming out of your nostrils...
M: Alright, your turn.
C: I'm pregnant. There. I win. [Joe the Bartender collapses] Okay, maybe Joe wins.


• There's something to be said about a glass half full, about knowing when to say when. I think it's more of a floating line, a barometer of need. Of desire. It's entirely up to the individual, and it depends what's being poured. Sometimes all we want is a taste. Other times there's no such thing as enough, the glass is bottomless... all we want is more.


M: What are you doing with Olivia? You're letting her think you're emotionally available. You're letting her think she has a chance. And there is nothing worse in the world than thinking you have a chance when you really don't.


C: Your problem is estrogen.
M: No, my problem is tequila.


M: It's just... I'm exhausted. My mother is exhausting. What happened to Cristina is exhausting. And you? Hating you is the most exhausting of all. And I don't want to do it anymore.


• We deny we're tired, we deny that we're scared, we deny how badly we want to succeed. And most importantly, we deny that we're in denial. We only see what we want to see and believe what we want to believe, and it works. We lie to ourselves so much that after a while the lies start to seem like the truth. We deny so much that we can't recognize the truth... right in front of our faces. Sometimes reality has a way of sneaking up and biting us in the ass. And when the dam bursts, all you can do is swim. The world of pretend is a cage, not a cocoon. We can only lie to ourselves for so long. We are tired, we are scared, and denying it doesn't change the truth. Sooner or later we have to put aside our denial and face the world, head on, guns blazing... Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt. It's a freakin' ocean. So how do you keep from drowning in it?


A: Derek... have you ever thought that even if I am Satan and an adulterous bitch, that I still might be the love of your life?


M: Okay, here it is, your choice… it’s simple, her or me, and I’m sure she is really great. But Derek, I love you, in a really, really big ‘pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window’, unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me, choose me, love me.


• Okay, I think I'm rambling. My point, actually, and I do have one, has nothing to do with surprises or death or lawsuits, or even surgeons. My point is that whoever said 'What you don't know can’t hurt you', was a complete and total moron. Because for most people I know, not knowing is the worst feeling in the world. (Okay, fine. Maybe the second worst.)


M: I actually said 'pick me.' Pick me!?
J: I think it's romantic.
M: It's not romantic, Joe. It's horrifying. Horror-movie horrifying. Carrie at the prom with the pig's blood horrifying!
J: Well I think it's sweet.
M: I-said-PICK ME!


• Communication. It's the first thing we really learn in life. The funny thing is, once we grow up, learn our words and really start talking, the harder it becomes to know what to say. Or how to ask for what we really need. At the end of the day, there are some things you just can't help but talk about. Some things we just don't want to hear, and some things we say because we can't be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say. They're what you do. Some things you say because you have no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.


A: Hey, listen. For a kiss to be really good, you want it to mean something... to be with someone you can't get out of your head, so that when your lips finally touch you feel it everywhere... a kiss so hot and so deep that you never want to come up for air. You can't cheat your first kiss. You don't want to. Trust me. When you find that right person for a first kiss, it's everything.


• In the eight grade, my English class had to read "Romeo and Juliet". Then for extra credit, Ms. Synder made us act out all the parts. Sal Scafarillo was Romeo and as fate would have it, I was Juliet. All the other girls were jealous, but I had a slightly different take. I told Ms. Synder Juliet was an idiot. For starters, she falls for the one guy she knows she can't have, then she blames fate for her own bad decision. Ms. Synder explained to me that when fate comes into play, choice sometimes goes out the window. At the ripe old age of 13, I was very clear that love, like life, is about making choices, and fate has nothing to do with it. Everyone thinks it's so romantic. Romeo and Juliet, true love, how sad. If Juliet was stupid enough to fall for the enemy, drink the bottle of the poison and go to sleep in a mausoleum, she deserved whatever she got! Maybe Romeo and Juliet were fated to be together, but just for a while, and then their time passed. And if they could've known that beforehand, maybe it would've all been OK. I told Ms. Synder that when I was grown up, I would take fate into my own hands. I wouldn't let some guy drag me down. Mrs. Synder said I'd be lucky if I ever had that kind of passion with someone, and if I did, we would be together forever. Even now I believe for the most part, love is about choices. It's about putting down the poison and the dagger and making your own happy ending, most of the time, and that sometimes, despite all your best choices and all your best intentions, fate - wins - anyway.


C: I've already spent an hour picking bird parts out of this guy. I'm over it.
G: Carpe diem.
M: Right, you and my forehead. I'm beginning to look how I feel. Carpe that.
G: This is the luckiest day in the world!
C: Tell that to the bird.


M: I'm pregnant, you blind moron.
R: You’re what?
M: My heart rate is 110, I’m burning 3,000 calories a day, my legs are swollen, I've got indigestion and gas. Did you know carrying a boy in your uterus means you burn 10 percent more calories than if you had a girl? Guess what I’m carrying. I tried for seven damn years and a month before my fellowship notifications the stick turns blue. Men. From the very beginning they just suck the life right out of you. I’m not leaving. I’m pregnant.


• Maybe we're not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful means recognizing what you have for what it is. Appreciating small victories. Admiring the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we're thankful for the familiar things we know. And maybe we're thankful for the things we'll never know. At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate.


M: I feel like one of those people who are so freaking miserable that they can't be around normal people. Like I'll infect the happy people. Like I'm some miserable, diseased, dirty ex-mistress.


• When you're a kid, it's Halloween candy. You hide it from your parents and you eat it until you get sick. In college, it's the heavy combo of youth, tequila and well... you know. (...) Good things aren't always what they seem. Too much of anything, even love, is not always a good thing. How do you know how much is too much? Too much too soon. Too much information. Too much fun. Too much love, or too much to ask of someone? When is it all just too much for us to bear?


M: They always look so sad when I kick them out. Seriously, why do guys not understand that when you pick them up in a bar and take them home for sex, that there are no picket fences or kids in your future?


C: This is where I live. My mother decorated it. I don't do laundry, I buy new underwear. The table? Six months of magazines I know I'll never read but I won't throw out. I don't wash dishes, vacuum, or put the toilet paper on the holder. I hired a maid once. She ran away crying. The only things in my fridge are water, vodka, and diet soda, and I don't care. But you do. Still think living together is a good idea?


M: I don't think so. You know, when I saw you at Joe's, I was just looking for a replacement. Looking for something to make me feel better. You deserve better than that.


• Forty years ago, the Beatles asked the world a question. They wanted to know where all the lonely people came from. My theory is that a great many of the lonely people come from hospitals. More precisely, the surgical wing of hospitals. As surgeons, we ignore our own needs so we can meet our patients' needs. We ignore our friends and families so we can save other people's friends and families. Which means that, at the end of the day, all we really have is ourselves. And nothing in this world can make you feel more alone than that.
Four hundred years ago, another English guy had an opinion on being alone. John Donne. He thought we were never alone. Of course it was fancier when he said it. No man is an island entire onto himself. Boil down that island talk and he just means that all anyone needs is someone to step in and let us know we're not alone. And who's to say that someone can't have four legs. Someone to play with, or run around with, or just hang out...


I: I'm having a moment here. Don't mess with me!
C: You're not going to have a nervous breakdown and kill yourself, are you?
I: No.
C: So, there's no chance you'll kill us?
I: [storms off]
G: Okay, that was wrong on so many levels.
C: But it was good though?
G: Yeah, it was. =)


M: You're still you?
D: I'm still me.


M: When you operate, the rest of the world goes away. No thirst, pain... but it's not that way when you're sharing your body with another person.


M: Do not kick me!
G: Excuse me?
M: Are you kicking me under the table, O'Malley?
G: No...
M: Than clearly I wasn't talking to you. [looks down at her stomach] You cannot kick me when I am doing my job. Thank you.


A: Are you sad? Depressed? What? It's Christmas, Derek. We love Christmas. Or at least we used to.
D: I'm not saying this to hurt you, or because I want to leave you, because I don't. Meredith wasn't a fling. She wasn't revenge. I fell in love with her. That doesn't go away because I decided to stay with you.


• Fresh starts, thanks to the calendar, they happen every year. Just set your watch to January, our reward for surviving the holiday season. Bringing on the great tradition of new years resolutions, put your past behind you and start over. It’s hard to resist the chance for a new beginning, a chance to put the problems of last year to bed. Who gets to determine when the old ends and the new begins? It’s not on the calendar, it’s not a birthday, it’s not a new year. It’s an event, big or small, something that changes us. Ideally, that gives us hope, a new way of living and looking at the world, a way of letting go of old habits, old memories. What's important is that we never stop believing we can have a new beginning, but it's also important to remember that, amid all the crap, there are a few things worth holding on to.


D: There is a land called Passive Agressiva, and you are their queen.


D: Can I ask you something personal?
I: If I say no?
D: I'll hold my breath, which will stop my heart, killing me. You're right here, you'll be charged with murder. Life in prison, loved by a big old girl named Hildy.
I: So my options are homicide charges or inappropriate personal questions from a patient.
D: I know, kind of sucks.


D: That guy Alex. You with him?
I: No.
D: Good. That means I won't have to fight him for you.
I: What makes you think I want you to fight him for me?
D: You're in love with me. I'm well off, but not into money. I'm smart, but not a know-it-all. I'm funny, I love animals. And I'm hot. I'm a catch, if you can wrap yourself around the enlarged failing heart.
I: You're right. I am sooo in love with you. It's a shame, really, since I'm with Hildy and all.


D: I'm just trying to help.
M: Well, see this? What you’re doing, being dreamy? It doesn't help. It hurts me. It messes with my head. You have a wife to go home to and I'm guessing she has no idea where you are right now.
D: No, she doesn't.
M: That's what I thought.


• Lying is bad. Or so we are told constantly from birth. Honesty is the best policy, the truth shall set you free, I chopped down the cherry tree. Whatever. The fact is, lying is a necessity. We lie to ourselves because the truth... the truth freaking hurts. No matter how hard we try to ignore or deny it, eventually the lies fall away, like it or not. But here's the truth about the truth. It hurts. So we lie.


C: We're in an elevator. That's your specialty, right? McDreamy moments in the elevator?
D: Dr. Yang-
C: You know what? For just a moment, I’m not Dr. Yang and you’re not Dr. Shepherd. You’re the guy who screwed up my friend. The guy who drove her to get a dog she can't keep, the dog she only got because her boyfriend lied to her about his wife.
D: I never lied to her.
C: Yes you are. You know, I know a liar when I see one because... I am a liar.


M: Hey, why aren't you busy prepping for rounds and stealing all the good cases?
C: Why aren't you busy prepping for rounds and stealing all the good cases?
M: No reason.
C: No reason...... Burke thinks I moved in with him.
M: McDreamy and I have a case. Wait. He thinks you moved in with him?
C: You're calling him McDreamy again?
M: So?
C: What are you doing?
M: What are YOU doing?


D: Yes, compassion. It's an emotion. Have you ever heard of it?
C: Have you? She's barely back on her feet and you've got her calling you McDreamy again. You know, I was just telling the patient the truth. You might want to try it sometime.

Scriptina, si me dieran a elegir.

Existe la posibilidad de que, a veces (por no decir siempre), lo idealices demasiado. Lo que pasa es que, queramos o no, las mujeres tenemos una lista. Una cantidad indefinida de ítems en nuestra cabeza. Sí. Puede que estemos llenas de estereotipos, algunos hasta... un poco crueles. Pero la lista está. Y a medida que pasan los años y los hombres, la lista crece y crece y crece. Entonces, así como una tarde de lluvia te planteás que tal vez tu Big se encuentre en Puán (Universidad de Filosofía y Letras), una noche pre-otoñal, te preguntás si en realidad, Big... o mejor dicho, Grey... estuvo siempre enfrente de tus narices, pero no quisiste aceptarlo.

¿Qué pasaría si Big no es sumamente inteligente pero sí, increíblemente divertido? Quizás él no te pueda llevar a una expo de arte, porque seguramente, se la pasaría criticando la vestimenta o cualquier aspecto gracioso de quién acuda al lugar, en vez de hablarte de Piet Mondrian o de Kandinsky. Tal vez, él no sea de los que aprecien la esencia misma de una buena canción, sino de los que buscan una letra que los divierta o los ponga melancólicos o simplemente, los haga bailar. Él sería de los que pagan para ver un recital de Black Eyed Peas, contentísimo y sin una pizca de verguenza. De los que se compran ropa en Kosiuko y se cortan el pelo en Cerini. La peluca despeinada, barbita candado y ropa bohemia, no son el estilo que mejor lo representa. A decir verdad, él no fue muy agraciado por la naturaleza. Jamás te cocinaría nada, porque no tiene idea de cómo se enciende un horno. Él puede que a veces (y sólo a veces) tenga uno que otro error ortográfico y, puede que hasta sea fanático de las publicidades más pegadizas y tontas que existen, pero... así y todo, sigue teniendo las suficientes características de tu lista cómo para que, al menos hoy, te preguntes si él puede llegar a ser tu Big.

.

Sí. Quizás Grey use cremas y productos para el pelo. Y también es posible que nunca puedas dejar de preguntarte si, una vez que terminaron, él decidió tomar "otro rumbo". Si quizás eso que hoy parece ser un amigo 10 puntos, es en realidad, una "amiga 10 puntos". Pero la cuestión está en que, pasan los meses, pasaron los años, y Grey sigue ahí. Todavía no se inventó el tema del que ustedes dos no pudieran hablar (exceptuando "ese pequeñísimo detalle" que vaya a saber Jebús porqué han de esquivarlo tanto). Él sabe que sos poco demostrativa y nunca pretendería que lo saludes diciéndole que lo extrañás o lo querés. Sabe de tus pasados problemas de autoestima y jamás te atacaría con eso. Tiene ese don de hacerte limarla como hacías a los 16 años con tu mejor amiga y jamás pudiste volver a hacer. Él odia a Tinelli y todas sus fantochadas de programas y nunca lo miraría "porque no había nada en la tele". Él no tiene Facebook y suele desaparecer frecuentemente del Msn. Es adicto a mirar fotos, chusma de barrio y le encanta criticar, igual que a vos. Le gusta tu estilo, tu vestido azul, cómo te queda el flequillo tirado para atrás, y odia que uses tacos altos. Con él es con quién podés pasar de una conversación seriesísima cómo: la muerte de su perro o, "¿qué voy a hacer con mi vida? necesito un trabajo"; a unos limes tremendos sobre una isla, una cámara, marihuana y sólo ustedes dos. Pueden hablar de lo que van a hacer cuando sean viejitos y de que Aladín es la mejor película de Disney que existe. Él recuerda tu ex y su actual fanatismo por Miranda! y así y todo, también ama los temas de Frank y los escucha cada tanto.

Grey cumple con un número altísimo de ítems de tu lista. Pero lo más importante es que, con Grey, podés ser vos misma. No hay ningún antifaz o rubor que te cubra. Con él, cara lavada y una sonrisa. Porque fue él quién estuvo en "ese" momento en el que no estuvo nadie. "Ese" momento que lo hace tan pero tan Big. Sí. Hay que mirar las dos caras de la moneda. También existe "todo eso otro" que fue lo que lo hizo tan pero tan Grey. Y aunque las dos cosas pesen lo suficiente, esta noche te tira Big. Esta noche te tira creer que son los protagonistas de una telenovela con un "3 años después" incluído. Tuvieron su primer encuentro en una fiesta, sus maripositas en la panza, su pelea y su reconciliación. Hubo segundas historias, co-protagonistas y malvados villanos. Y hoy que todo ya parece dicho, sólo tenés que rezar por que al guionista no se le dé por amnesias, ni cegueras, ni paralíticos. Que haya pastel de boda y un "Fin" en letra cursiva. Scriptina, si me dieran a elegir...

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Si pudieras volver el tiempo atrás,

¿harías lo mismo?

Let the truth sting.

Hace un par de semanas que venís teniendo esa sensación de tener que decirle todo lo que pensaste y nunca le dijiste, a todo el mundo. Como si un huracán fuera a desvastar la ciudad, o un tsunami fuera a taparnos. Esa maldita sensación de "apocalipsis", de 2012, o al menos, de final de "tu mundo", que no entendés muy bien a qué se debe. Como positivo podés destacar que todavía no tomaste ninguna decisión drástica. Tipo, decirle a tu ex que siempre estuviste enamorada de él, o decirle a tu ex-amiga que siempre te pareció una perra, que se vestía realmente muy mal y que era una envidiosa de porquería. Onomatopeya de alivio. Todavía no hiciste ninguna locura. Ahora, la palabrita "todavía" es la que te quita el sueño.

Todo comenzó cuando, en una de esas tardes en las que te encontraste tirada en la cama suspirando, empezaste a darte cuenta de lo distinto que somos todos los seres humanos. De las distintas reacciones que provocan en vos, las personas que vas conociendo. Y te autoconvenciste de que, si ciertos hombres supieran, lo fácil... lo increíblemente fácil, que era tenerte así, tirada en la cama suspirando; dejarías, de una vez por todas, de ser la histérica e insatisfecha que nada la convence. Por primera vez, estabas segura de que la falla no estaba en vos. Ok. Tal vez la falla tampoco estuviera en el otro, sino simplemente en la unión de las dos moléculas. Pero ese no era el punto. El punto era estar segura de que, personas como vos y ella, personas como Meredith y Christina, todavía tenían oportunidades.

"Son tiempos duros para el romanticismo" - dijiste (como buena compradora de publicidad que sos) en conclusión a la charla de lunes a la medianoche, con tu mamá y hermano. Tu problema estaba justo en esa frase. Si estuvieras metida en tus collages, en tus colores, tus papeles, o tu nuevo proyecto francés, de seguro que esas palabras no tendrían ningún sentido para vos. Pero el hecho de encontrarte tirada en la cama suspirando, era un indicio claro de que estabas en grandes problemas. ¿Cómo se hace para no sentirse como en un callejón sin salida? ¿Cómo se hace para no tener miedo de estar otra vez, dirigiéndote a la dirección equivocada? ¿Cómo se hace para confiar en que esta vez no habrá paredón al final del camino? Y, por sobre todas las cosas, ¿cómo se hace para frenar estas estrepitosas ganas de que el mundo entero sepa que estás suspirando, como hacía mucho no te hacían suspirar?

Ahí fue donde empezó el volcán de palabras en la garganta. Las ganas de que supiera que te perdió él solito, que tuvo todas las oportunidades y las perdió por no saber como mantenerte conquistada; de que el otro supiera lo idiota que te sentías, que si se pudiera volver el tiempo atrás, nisiquiera le hubieras dirigido la palabra, que "NO" va a ser lo único que te escuche decir de ahora en más y para siempre; que tu amigo sepa que, apesar de todas las decepciones que te llevaste con él en este último tiempo, sentís que en el fondo, él sigue siendo el mismo, y que por primera vez, le deseás que sea muy feliz con esa persona, porque ahora sí, creés que está en lo correcto; que tu otro amigo entienda que, está yendo en un vuelo sin escalas y a toda velocidad, derechito a estrolarse con una enorme pared, y que es tu deber decirle que ya pasaste por eso, y que si no desacelera YA, le va a doler muuuucho; y por supuesto, también te gustaría decirle a Grey TODO eso que nunca le dijiste y porqué no, que además, te encantaría que hoy se pudieran dar un abrazo gigante y contarse todo eso que alguna vez quisieron contarse y no lo hicieron por, vaya uno a saber qué.

Está muy claro. Todo este ataque de sinceridad brutal se te va a pasar en un abrir y cerrar de ojos. Y vas a volver a quedarte con la duda de... ¿qué pasaría si todos supieran todo lo que realmente pensás? Para bien o para mal, creés que no es casual que estos ataques sólo te agarren de vez en cuando. Hay momentos en los que, mejor, callarse y seguir suspirando...

Femme.

No digáis que agotado su tesoro,
de asuntos falta, enmudeció la lira;

podrá no haber poetas; pero siempre

habrá poesía.

Mientras las ondas de la luz al beso

palpiten encendidas;

mientras el sol las desgarradas nubes

de fuego y oro vista;
mientras el aire en su regazo lleve

perfumes y armonías,

mientras haya en el mundo primavera,

¡habrá poesía!

.

Mientras la ciencia a descubrir no alcance

las fuentes de la vida,

y en el mar o en el cielo haya un abismo

que al cálculo resista;
mientras la humanidad siempre avanzando

no sepa a dónde camina;

mientras haya un misterio para el hombre,

¡habrá poesía!

Mientras se sienta que se ríe el alma

sin que los labios rían;

mientras se llore sin que el llanto acuda

a nublar la pupila;
mientras el corazón y la cabeza

batallando prosigan;

mientras haya esperanzas y recuerdos,

¡habrá poesía!

Mientras haya unos ojos que reflejen

los ojos que los miran;

mientras responda el labio suspirando

al labio que suspira;
mientras sentirse puedan en un beso

dos almas confundidas;

mientras exista una mujer hermosa,

¡habrá poesía!

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- Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer.