Girls Season 1 (HBO)

In my early 20s, I remember thinking to myself many many times a day: 

Who the fudge has this life? I'm a college graduate, I'm really nice to everyone and I smell okay, but I'm still stuck in a sucky job, I have no money to support my smoking habit, a very, very cheap vice - which gives you an idea of how poor I was - and I seem to have done something wrong to a guy in my past life because I'm feeling the karma and I'm sure the gods of love and romance and serendipitous encounters put a curse on me so that I may remain miserable in the dating department for. ev. er.

Also, I remember deciding in my head that I was Carrie in Sex and the City, while drinking wine I stole from my landlord's stash. Because like me, Carrie was unhappy and she turned every single thing into a dramafest.

I got it all wrong. Life is no SATC, because I didn't wear stilettos to coffee with friends or get a pap smear or get wined and dined by a handsome businessy type jerk during that period in my life. There was none of that glitz and glamor that came with being a conflicted, frustrated, sad woman. 

Where was Hannah and this super awesome series that seem to tell the story of every forgotten young woman who has nothing to show for but has a lot to offer the world? The world doesn't care about them. High school and college stories of struggling to pass exams and getting caught making out with a stranger by mom and dad are told all the time. So do tales of the tough chick who wears high heels to work and can afford 5 skinny lattes a day and can easily buy a Hermes bag without sweating or looking like she worked hard for it. But Hannah? Me in 2006? Not a single sign of support from the universe.

Sure, there's that occasional story of the 20-something shopaholic who's addicted to designer brands and  klutzes out every other minute, but there's usually a twist. She either lands a great job as an fashion writer by writing a stupid article about how women are like expensive shoes, or meets the man of her dreams who helps her straighten out her life.

But Hannah' story is different. As the plot thickens, reeking realities that were once swept under the rug are exposed to the whole world unapologetically, butt cellulite and all.

That is why my body is shaking with nostalgia and pride from having survived the horror of my early twenties as I watch every episode of Girls Season 1. High five, 23-year-old Zins.

I was Lena Dunham. I'm sure you once were, too.

Back to the show.