Jan 11 2013
I’ve missed you, the way I miss my best friend, or my dog after I’ve been out of town for too long. While you were away, I even made a list of movies and TV shows that I, and others like me, could watch in your absence. But nothing really satisfied me, not even Welcome To The Dollhouse or those super-duper suspenseful episodes of Homeland. Not to sound cheesy or anything, but you are one in a million.
Right now, at this very moment in my life, you are the one character on TV, or anywhere for that matter, that truly gets me. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels that way. Of course I’ve had my share of favorite TV characters, and those I’ve felt “in-sync” with, like Angela Chase, Lindsay Weir and, yes, even Miranda Hobbes. But none of these ladies come close to how close I feel to you.
Before starting this letter, I went back and watched the Pilot of Girls for the 13th time, and I realized that I have told my mother, “I could have been a drug-addict,” so many times. And every time I say it, I always hope that she’s going to pet me like a Norwich Terrier puppy and say, “Here’s some money, now go buy yourself something pretty.” I must be on opium or something. But you see, this is why I’m so fond of you, because you take the words right out of my mouth.
Watching you stumble your way through life on Girls is not just entertaining, it’s a life lesson to girls like me. And no, I’m not a white girl. I am, however, a girl who has worked many thankless internships. A girl who hasn’t found the right job after graduating college a year ago. A girl who could stand to lose a few more pounds. And a girl involved in some serious dysfunctional relationships. You appeared on my TV, and in my life, at the perfect time. I wasn’t expecting you, and that’s what makes me appreciate you more.
There are other TV characters alive right now that cater to my demographic, like Mindy on The Mindy Project and Jess on The New Girl, but none of these individuals do it like you. You address your problems head-on and with a lot more honesty. You don’t pretend that your life is a sitcom or a romantic comedy starring Katherine Heigl. And I love that about you. You explore the good, the bad and the ugly of girls in their 20s, and you don’t hold back.
I read a post from a conservative girl who was angry that your creator, Lena Dunham, was named Glamour ‘Woman of the Year.’ Her big issue was that you, Hannah, weren’t someone she could relate to. She basically thrashed you for being an entitled brat because she didn’t feel like she was an entitled brat. She’s a 20-something girl who has a good job and doesn’t get/need help from her parents or the government. I understand where she, and others like her, are coming from. I applaud them for being responsible young adults, even though I also feel like a responsible young adult despite not having all of those “young adult” responsibilities yet.
But I also don’t understand why people keep picking on you Hannah for being who you are. Aren’t we all unlikable at some point in our lives? Don’t we all have relationship problems with our friends and those we want to sleep with? Haven’t we all been, or know of someone who’s been, in a frustrating relationship like Marnie’s? Or eaten too many cupcakes? The problems you face are not black and white. (By the way, I don’t think you’re a racist for not hanging around with people from other races/cultures, even though you live in one of the most diverse places in the world. You know, it’s funny that some people get mad at you for this. No one got mad at Carrie Bradshaw for always going to lunch with all-white ladies. Then again, there weren’t so many people with computers and high-speed internet back then. I guess you’re just stuck in a time where people nitpick at everything and anything. Tough luck doll.) You’re problems are not just white people problems. And people don’t seem to get that Hannah. They just like to call you fat and unlikable.
I don’t really care what others say about you Hannah, because I know you. And you make me feel like everything, will eventually, be okay.
I’ve read around the internet that you’ve grown up a bit since the last time I saw you stuff that piece of cake in your face. I read that you’ve evolved into a “little asshole.” That you’ve become funnier, but not so sympathetic, and that you kick out roommates like you have a trust-fund. At first, I was worried that I too, would start to dislike you. But then I realized that’s how we, 20-something kids, are. We go through so many phases. Sometimes we’re the most lovable person in the world, other times we’re intolerable… like those times I tell my mom to be grateful I’m not some gang-banger.
I do hope though that you haven’t turned into an insensitive A-hole because you’re my Ramona Quimby right now. I can’t wait to see you this Sunday, after I’ve watched the Golden Globes.
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