OK, I admit it. I am pretty damn excited about the return of "Girls." Like super excited. Like super duper excited. Like eat cake on the beach at Coney Island excited. But with return subway fare and without a stolen purse. The funny thing about this show is I pretty much hated it at first. My notions were preconceived about youth and entitlement and angst. And they were pretty hard to like in the beginning. Also, come on, none of these New York kids is friends with a single people of color? Really? But, the thing is, for all of our artifices we tiny humans tend to be shockingly alike in ways large and small. And finding oneself, however long that takes, is pretty much something we all fumble through. The heady mix of bravado and confusion that somehow helps us stumble toward adulthood. It's exhilarating and excruciating to watch. And I pretty much love it. Because I too am an individual and I feel how I feel when I feel it and right now it's a Wednesday baby and I'm alive. But, thanks God I'm old enough now to know better than to wear a bright yellow mesh tank top. With age comes at least that much wisdom.
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