On the rare occasions when I watch television, I watch it the way Brittany Murphy’s character in Girl Interrupted ate rotisserie chickens. Ravenously, under cover, and with a demented look in my eye. As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t really like television. Except when I do. And when a coworker (who also doesn’t like television, except when she does) mentioned she was “a little obsessed” with Lena Dunham, the writer, creator, director, and star of the HBO hit series “Girls”—I made a mental note to check out the show.
When the boys were at choir practice last night, I skulked over to Amazon Prime to see if “Girls” was available on instant video. First, I downloaded a cast interview.
(Do I even like these people?
DAMN IT. I do.)
Then I inhaled the pilot episode (delicious),
Devoured episode two (NOM NOM NOM),
And spent the next 45 minutes Googling “Why does God have to be such an egregious dick when it comes to distributing talent?”
Grr. I wantsome.
Lena Dunham is 26 years old, and she is the creator (and writer, and star, and, BLESS HER HEART, director) of a show so smart and funny and beautifully acted, I’m simultaneously inspired and suicidal.
And a little whiny.
All at once! It’s like a pu pu platter of emotion in my heart.
- OHMYGOD YAY THIS SHOW IS SO AWESOME.
- Too bad I’m too slow-witted and old and bad at Zumba to write something awesome like that
- Wehhhhh. How come Lena got all the brains and body confidence* and Golden Globes? *wet fart noise*
- Pass the crab rangoon
*I just spent five minutes racking my brain for “that word when you love yourself just the way you are”.
WHAT IS THAT WORD?
