Since last week was Thanksgiving and I was trapped in parts of Ohio that don't have high-speed internet (my Nana's house!) The Morning After Grey's never materialized. But tonight's episode was a rerun-- this season's opener about which I've already written-- and so it's a good opportunity to play catch up. And nothing helps me prepare for finals more than waxing philosophic on trite prime time soaps.

So: while it was never really made clear, George and Izzie are just friends and he's sleeping on her floor like a household pet while she bitches on and about Christina and Meredith's cliquish behaviors. Usually Grey's "all new special events" have stronger openings-- I'm thinking of the fantasy dream sequence where Christina, Meredith and Izzie showered together on Superbowl Sunday-- and this was weaksauce. Sometimes this show is compelling and interesting while still maintaining its status as a guilty pleasure, but this week Shonda Rhimes phoned it in. George in a sleeping bag was not the insightful, provocative TV I had in mind.

Meredith Grey's life is pretty depressing, but watching her boyfriend interact on a date with Sydney Heron hit a new low. Granted, Meredith and Derek are kaput. Technically he can do whatever he wants. But Sydney Heron is like a twisted combination of the Trix Rabbit, Barbie, and Willy Wonka. And she's not even the sweet and friendly Gene Wilder Willy Wonka. She's the scary Johnny Depp Willy Wonka with the huge teeth.

None of that matters, though, because a high school bus crashed, and high school mean girls have invaded Seattle Grace. Perhaps the meanest girl of all, though, is Dr. Hahn. Not only does she have scary orange skin and flowing long blonde hair, but she is a bitch. There are no words to describe or convey her bitchiness. She is simply awful.

Few things in this life are certain, but one thing that is involves Grey’s characters naked and staring at the ceiling, covered in sweat and wondering what to say. After breaking up a marriage and waiting for months to have sex again, Izzie and George have no physical chemistry whatsoever. But you know who does have chemistry? (It’s this week’s theme!) The Chief and Derek do. This is mostly due to the fact that the Chief is lonely and Derek has apparently cut off his a testicles, because the two have taken watching to movies together and (probably) cuddling.

If you have cable, you know Demetri Martin. The New York City-based comedian has appeared in stand-up specials like Premium Blend and Comedy Central Presents..., Flight of the Conchords, commercials for Microsoft, and a plethora of other projects, but he's probably best known for his work on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Last night after his set at my school, we talked the WGA strike, his creative process, and our favorite palindromes. (Mine? "Was it a car or a cat I saw?" His is his own design: "Snub no man. Nice cinnamon buns.")

Oh, boy. This week Grey’s Anatomy delivered just what the doctor ordered (see what I did right there? So clever!) in two ways. The first was extended pleasure Grey’s—five minutes longer!!—and the second was Christina Yang, psychoanalyst. Seriously, you know Meredith is crazy when she starts taking advice from someone who would rather have a career than marry her hot, rich boyfriend. What an idiot. Meredith deserves all the bad advice she gets.

Sigmund Yang’s first prescription for Meredith’s nightmares and panic attacks? A halt to the break-up sex. Now THAT is a tall order. Asking Meredith to avoid self-destructive behavior is like asking George to quit being a fidgety biscuit. People just can’t unlearn their personalities. Across town, the Chief has moved into a separate trailer on McDreamy’s land, where he suggests a “Gentlemen’s Evening,” a sort of boys’ night for the men of the surgery unit. I can’t even articulate how much this bugs out Derek (and later McSleazy), but they definitely suspect a Gentlemen’s Evening involves strippers and maybe barnyard animals. I’m hoping it’s like the brandy parties the men on the Titanic went to. Or an orgy. I hope both.

One thing's for sure: Large and In Charge is back with a vengeance. This season Grey's has been a little too Izzie-centric for my taste, and it was a welcome relief to have a break from all of her mindfuck this week. So Callie took over Seattle Grace, and she means business. But we'll get to all of that in a minute.

For whatever reason, the writers of this show love opening dream sequences. They love them more than Christina loves cutting people open and Meredith loves squinting her eyes and whining long diatribes. Anyway, this week opens up with Meredith looking at her own purple corpse, which suddenly wakes up and says "Pick me, choose me, love me," which is, in case no one knew, the best line in history of television. She's still freaked out though, which is weird, because Meredith's body is already limp and lifeless and frightening. You think she would have gotten used to it already.

When we last left our friends at Seattle’s most dysfunctional hospital, George told Callie that slept with Izzie just before the episode ended. Grey’s is defined by its good cliffhangers (Does anyone remember “This is my husband, and you must be the intern he’s screwing”?), and this is no exception. But here’s what’s shocking: the resolution was even more surprising than the cliffhanger. Callie doesn’t go completely Carrie Underwood on George. She stays calm. She says she forgives him, which is incidentally tonight’s voice-over theme. God, this was so worth missing the Indians-Red Sox game over.

My mind is changing about Callie. She’s actually incredibly strong and self-possessed and probably the only female character on the show (besides Bailey) who has it together, and it surprised me to see her stick with a guy who had sex with a hot, blonde, ex-underwear model. So George calls Izzie in a panic and runs to the hospital and through its halls like either an eight year old girl who really has to pee or a chicken with no head. I don’t know, I guess he sort of resembles both.

Cross my heart, hope to die, was-it-really-necessary-to-show-Alex-sticking-a- needle-into-that-kid's-eye, has Grey's picked up. Wow. Tonight's theme was "You can't handle the truth!" and I can't imagine how Really Old Guy Charlie won't win an Emmy for his heroic, groundbreaking performance as a crotchety old man who yells at people and demands "real lobster, not that whitefish crap."

In last week's preview the Chief promised, "A resident has been attacked and A BABY IS MISSING!" And were they ever. Tonight's theme: addiction. As in, George can't quite quit his bad marriage, McDreamy sadly realizes he's dependent on Meredith, and a crystal meth lab explodes and almost kills four people.

It's pretty shocking when the real identity of the Crystals is revealed. (Sidenote: awesome that the meth brewers/dealers have the last name "Crystal." Way to be clever and subtle, Grey's writers). But anyway, that one meth addict-- the vaguely ethnic younger guy-- is even pretty good looking, which is completely inconsistent with everything I've ever been told about this drug. Whenever I see pictures of meth addicts in magazines or newspapers they have no teeth and charred skin. Or they're Fergie.

I’ll admit: Grey’s Anatomy has seen its hey-day. The show peaked at the end of the second season, has been on a slow decline since, experienced the backlash of a major public scandal, and has seen two major characters leave. But I keep watching, mostly because it’s like witnessing a car wreck which is—Hey! Good segue!—exactly what happened in last night’s season 4 opener.