I realize I am late to this party (hey, I have a kid). I remember seeing a billboard for Girls a while back and thinking, oh, that must be the new Sex And The City. And maybe it is. This is not your mother’s Sex In The City tho. And by your mother, I mean me.

Both in her movie, Tiny Furniture, and in Girls, from the very first frame, I am riveted. Watching it, I feel both young and old. It almost makes me want to be in my twenties again. Almost. Okay, that’s a total lie. It actually makes me feel grateful that I’m not in my twenties anymore because it brings back with such painful clarity the slow agony that was my twenties. But in a good way. Ohhhh, girls are so complicated. No wonder my husband hates the show.

I think she is genius. The sharp, sharp honesty of her writing and her eye is groundbreaking and I can’t help but get this tightening in my stomach, feeling like I’m watching a speeding train that will soon be far, far gone. Like a grass roots non-profit doing incredible work that eventually goes public and develops a line for Target, Lena will get a stylist and a trainer and this young artist who went to Oberlin (OHIO!) and decided to put it ALL out there will one day soon own a home in Silver Lake and eat too much kale and not enough pizza. Here’s to hoping she stays weird.