Lena Dunham is on fire. Not only does she have a hit TV show that is a perfect portrayal of the confusion of post-collegiate life and have a book on the way, but she keeps winning awards. First there were her Golden Globe wins for Best Actress and Best Comedy. Then last night came her Writer’s Guild win for Best New Series. Between those two events, her boyfriend won some Grammy’s but that’s irrelevant. Did I mention she’s on the cover of this week’s Rolling Stone?
Every week, Girls just seems to get better and better. I find myself desperately wanting to talk to friends about what happened, about how I can relate, and how for a second, it makes me feel like I’m not alone in my confusion. But then I remember that this is fiction and I’m not really Marnie because Marnie is actually Allison Williams who has a famous dad and famous friends. But for those 30 minutes, I am every one of those girls.
I would love to sit down and ask Lena just how she does it. How does she know how much life can suck when everything is going so fantastic for her? Because really now: Marnie and Jessa are messes, Hannah is drifting along, and Shoshanna is an innocent flower that’s most likely about to be ripped from the ground and float into the abyss. That’s all a true testament of Lena’s writing skills- she’s always able to churn out crap for her characters yet be walking on sunshine in real life.
I keep hoping that one night I’m going to casually run into Lena in Williamsburg where I will stand out for not being hipster enough and she’ll be like, “You’re a fish out of water, I’m going to make you a character on Girls.” And then I will proceed to squeal like a flamingo and she will walk away. Yeah, that’s exactly what would happen. At least then I’d have a story to tell.