If we’ve learned one thing from Manhattan-based sitcoms, it’s that living and dating in the city presents a unique set of problems. You have no time. You have no money. You have all your teeth, but–though this may have given you a leg up in Tennessee–it means nothing when you’re surrounded by actual models. You need at least two more roommates to make your rent, and those bedbugs that came with the apartment don’t count. Charles Shaw has replaced Ben & Jerry as the man in your life because “Two Buck Chuck” is the fiscally responsible choice when a pint of Cherry Garcia costs $7 at the convenience store on your block. And if you drink enough wine it tastes like love. Continue reading
In anticipation of the season 5 premiere, I recently started re-watching Girls on HBO. If I thought this show was relatable when it aired in 2012, it speaks to my soul in 2016. Everyone thinks they “are” one of the characters from Girls. You’re Hannah, the writer, or Jessa, the world-traveler, or Shoshanna, the only one with any sense. But while I was watching, I had a troubling thought: Am I Marnie?
My editor (fine, my mother) warned me that I shouldn’t liken myself to Marnie’s whiney ass. But I am an artist and my literary voice will not be stifled. Okay, that sounded way more “Hannah” than “Marnie.” Continue reading
Clearly Sarah Koenig does not read my blog because she opens episode 7 by saying “cootchie” five times, followed by the word “concocted.” Maybe podcasts seem like the type of medium that would attract a more sophisticated audience, but doesn’t Sarah Koenig know that her listeners’ minds are in the gutter? If Sarah Koenig read my blog she would also know that making two episodes of season 2 in one week (4x her bi-weekly promise) is unacceptable when Adnan Syed was on the stand a mere 200 miles south in Baltimore. Okay, I don’t think Adnan was ever technically put on the stand, but maybe I would know that if Sarah Koenig had stuck around to cover the rest of the hearing. Continue reading
If you were wondering how big Bowe Bergdahl’s ego must be to pull a “Jason Bourne” (his words—not mine) in Afghanistan, he answers it in the latest episode of Serial: 380 pages. That’s how long Bergdahl’s statement is about his time in the Taliban’s custody.
Let’s put that into perspective. The Da Vinci Code is 454 pages. Pride and Prejudice: 360 pages. The Hobbit: 304 pages. Bowe Bergdahl’s statement is 4 pages longer than To Kill A Mockingbird. Seems like a lot for someone who was blindfolded for the greater part of 5 years.
In episode 6, Sarah Koenig talks to a lot of guys who knew Bergdahl before he went rogue. By all accounts, Bergdahl was a great soldier. He memorized the handbooks, cleaned his weapons, and brought snacks for his buddies. If the U.S. army were a PE class, Bergdhal was every team captain’s first pick.
One might describe Bergdahl as an introvert, but he insists that he was just playing it safe. He knew that the best way not to rub anyone the wrong way was to stay quiet and keep to himself. He observed from the sidelines. Sarah Koenig says he was the perfect house guest.
A Valentine’s Day poem:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Watching Netflix is cheaper
Than dinner for two.
Thank you, thank you. I’m clearly not bitter at all. It’s just that Valentine’s Day sucks. Valentine’s Day is the worst day of the year for single women and also everyone else. It’s too much pressure for couples (i.e. “What if this is too much? What if this isn’t enough? What if he forgets all together?”), and it’s obviously no fun for single people.
(and I actually had a boyfriend when I tweeted that)
In the Netflix documentary Making a Murderer, an NBC Dateline producer says, “Right now murder is hot.” I’m not sure that this woman knows what “hot” means, because on the scale of things that are incredibly un-hot, murder falls somewhere between peach fuzz mustaches and amateur taxidermists. Murder trials are “in” right now, though. Just look at the success of Serial, Making a Murderer, and The Jinx.
From the beginning of Serial, Adnan Syed’s story has really resonated with me. Maybe it’s because I so value my freedom. Just kidding. It’s obviously because I have a soft spot for first-generation Americans (re: every boyfriend I’ve ever had). That’s probably why it has been so hard for me to adjust to season 2 of Serial. I’m not as invested in Bowe Bergdahl’s case. I miss the ole Woodlawn crew.
But the gang got back together for Adnan’s hearing. It’s like a Real Housewives reunion. Hey, since Sarah Koenig didn’t stick around for the end of the trial, maybe Andy Cohen can host it. Continue reading
Think about your favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place, the one you order from every week. Imagine that it suddenly becomes popular. You don’t even have to convince your friends to eat there anymore so that you have someone to talk to about it. They all love it as much as you do.
But then something changes. Maybe the chef can’t handle the pressure of millions of customers and takes on too big of a menu. Maybe the way she used to make the pizza was sort of illegal and now that she’s famous she has to follow the rules. Or maybe the pizza just doesn’t work without the ingredients she used last time. Either way, the quality isn’t as good as it used to be. When Thursday comes around, you aren’t even excited about your weekly pizza anymore. Sometimes it takes you a whole day to finish. Your friends are like, “Lucy, why did you make me order this? This pizza sucks!” You keep eating it anyway, though, in hopes that one week it will taste the way you remember it.
Then one Thursday morning–with no notice–you call to order your pizza, and they say that they’re only delivering every other Thursday now. The chef says she is going to start getting better ingredients from people who really know about pizza. The ingredients are going to be so good that it’s going to take her two weeks to collect them all. But she promises it will be worth the wait. Two weeks later, your pizza shows up. You wake up 30 minutes early so that you can walk to work and eat it during your commute. That’s how excited you are.