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Dear Grey’s Anatomy, This is the
hardest letter I’ve ever had to write.
We’ve had some wonderful times,
you and I—all those steamy scenes
in the elevator at Seattle Grace come
to mind. However (and I say this with
a heavy heart), it is past time to part
ways. I simply cannot devote an entire
hour out of my week to you anymore.
At one time, I happily planned my Thursday
evening around seeing you, but now? I
hardly recognize you.
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When I think about the perfect summer night, a few scenarios come to mind. Some of them I can’t print here, but one of them has to do with a porch swing (anyone got access to that in NYC??), a nice breeze with a hint of lavender (or at least a non-pee smell), and an ice cold cocktail.
If one of your fantasises includes the perfect summer drink, CC has come up with a list of A+ cocktails to make yourself or order at your favorite outdoor bar.
