So the Emmy nominations came out and besides my enormous RAGEY feelings about “Parks & Recreation” being snubbed, again, what the list finally did was make me watch “Girls.” I know, I know. I am so fucking far behind. Here’s the thing. I went through the full gamut of emotions about the show without ever watching the show. It went a little like, “Wait, cool. Wait, not cool. Wait, backlash. Wait, backlash to the backlash. Wait, racist. Wait, feminist. Wait, how am I supposed to feel again?” So by the time I finally sat down to watch the show, I came at it with so many mixed emotions that it practically become white noise. In essence, I was almost like a blank slate again. And, after marathoning
half the the whole season, I’ve decided I like it.
OK, hold on. First, I decided I definitely did not like it. That first episode, yeah. Gosh, that was pretty unlikeable. But slowly, but surely, I decided that this show was something exciting. A mess about youth that’s as messy as youth. At times thoughtful and at others terribly self involved, “Girls” managed to capture that terrifying, exhilarating process of trying to figure out who the fuck you are. And all that in a show created by and about young women? Well, that’s quite a thing. Are there problems, certainly. Yes, it needs more diversity. Yes, it needs less entitlement. Yes, it could be a more even. But some of that bumpy, lumpiness is what makes it relatable. Because while I can’t necessarily relate to all the situations that Hannah, Marnie, Jessa and Shoshanna find themselves in, I do enjoy seeing that jumble of missteps and revelations that is navigating your 20s through young women’s eyes.
And do you know what did it for me? It’s almost embarrassing, but at the end of the third episode when Hannah handles the double-whammy of bad news that 1) she has HPV and 2) her ex-boyfriend is gay by, well, dancing it out. Call me a sucker, but girls dancing together for the sheer joyful abandon of just dancing together gets me every time. Happy weekend, all.