(girl, lemme get you some eye makeup remover)
Whoa, girl, whoa.
Hold onto your still firm butt (bitch!)- it’s about to get all kinds of shitty in here.
You’re excited right now. Excited to begin your adult life in Hollywood, the place you dreamed of going to as a child, but boy oh boy, are you going to feel like the essence of canine fecal matter on the bottom of someone’s shoe very soon.
Your twenties are going to feel like those old wooden roller coaster rides that make you both mentally and psychically ill.
Am I going to throw up? Did someone just throw up on me? Did I just break a rib from being tossed into the side of this rickety coaster car? Will my fate play out like Fabio with a bird smashing into my face? Am I about to be catapulted hundreds of feet into the air and impaled on the little kids’ swirly cup ride?
Life is full of so many questions right now.
You’re going to spend the first half of your twenties drinking alone in your tiny-ass (more…)
I had had several jobs before my recent decent into freelancedom.
The reason why I had several jobs is because like most early twenty-somethings I decided that the career path I was on, the career I went to college for, was not right for me.
Well, that’s not exactly true.
I went to college for screenwriting, but ended up in Los Angeles as a personal assistant to famous people. I had completely lost sight of any goals or dreams while working that job. Actually, I really had no idea what my goals and dreams were, but the stress of my job prevented me from thinking about anything other than if my boss was taken care of and if I would die a sad, lonely spinster.
After many years of drinking myself to sleep, it finally dawned on me how miserable I was and I left my career. Finding myself now 25 years old and absolutely clueless as to what to do next, I worked a series of jobs that I thought would interest me (they didn’t) OR just plain ol’ paid the bills (hence my resentment (more…)
After finding myself rolling my eyes at yet another Internet ad for HBO’s new series, Girls, I had to finally admit to myself that my aversion to Lena Dunham is because I’m utterly and completely jealous of her.
I’ve never wanted to be that girl who dislikes other girls simply because they have something I don’t. I try to be supportive of my gender because we girls need to look out for one another. I think Dunham said it herself in a recent interview, “a success for one woman is a success for all of us.”
Or she could have not said that, I’m not sure. I’ve read so many freaking articles about her lately, I can’t keep track. But if she did say that, maybe she’s right. Maybe she’ll pave the way for us narcissistic twenty-somethings who love talking about our less than unique neuroses and “problems.” We need a champion, damnit!
Or maybe she just fucked us all.
My contention with Dunham developed after viewing the first 20 minutes of her freshman feature, Tiny Furniture. My initial (more…)