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Why I am Sticking With Girls

24/02/2014 11:50 GMT | Updated 26/02/2015 14:59 GMT

Two years ago my friend Anj rang to tell me about a new U.S sitcom she thought I would like "because it's about girls like us who are slightly mentally unstable".

All New Girl'd out, I thought I'd try this new fangled "trendy" sitcom out for size (mainly because Anj is significantly cooler than me and I'm always eager to impress her). Instantly, I was a woman obsessed. I recognized a little bit of myself in every single one of these Girls and between them they posed the insightful questions that have troubled my young adult years:

"what about the stuff that gets up around the side of condoms?"

Episode after episode the hysterically funny and intelligent screenplay, written by Lena Dunham herself, just kept getting better. Adam was every boy I had ever had sexual relations with which made me hate him but find him insanely attractive at the same time. Marnie and Hannah's relationship really was, as Hannah writes, "grander and more dramatic than any romance" and their ridiculous fight at the end of season one was hilarious, yet also provoked pangs of sadness as I remembered the heartbreak of fighting with my own best friend.

See, there lies the very beauty of Girls. Shoshanna is running around the streets of New York skirt-less after unknowingly having smoked a mound of crack one minute and the next, we are watching a hopeless Hannah struggle through the torture of mental illness in the episodes that sensitively show her beaten by OCD.

The troubled soul of Jessa is another prime example of Lena's exceptional ability to make you laugh out loud at the absurdity of events (a particular Jessa highlight for me are her imaginative insults - ("I don't think you're cool and I think your mother is poor"), whilst being all too aware of the tragedy of the character's life - season two's introduction to Jessa's parents provided a touching insight as to her tragedy. For months I would sing the praises of Girls to just about anyone who would listen, and if they dared whisper the immortal words, "oh I tried watching it but I never really got into it", well. Let's just say heads well and truly rolled.

So when season three came bouncing back onto my little, pink laptop screen I was un- naturally over-excited. What hilarity was Hannah going to come out with this year? Was Adam going to promote an imaginative-yet-grossly animalistic sex position that I would pretend to find disgusting at dinner parties yet be begging my boyfriend to try out? What about poor Marnie's arrogant little broken heart? Oh and of course what ever happened to very possibly autistic Sosh? After the first episode I felt numb. I didn't even lol. Not even a snigger. Not once. Determined not to be defeated, I shamefully pretended to my friends that I enjoyed every minute of it - too embarrassed to admit that I had suffered a sense of humour bypass.

For the past two weeks I have watched intently, eagerly awaiting any vaguely humorous or thought provoking line to cure me of my lack of Girls appreciation sickness. Last night I watched episode three with thoughts of third time lucky installing me with hope. Alas, third time was far from lucky and I found myself disappointed with the unresolved ending; angry with Jessa for being the most selfish person ever and feeling guilty about the 6 celebrations I just ate when faced with Marnie's fitness routine and killer body.

I struggle to understand Season 3's lack of success in feeding my Girls addiction but I have fathomed a possible explanation. Girls like me like to see similar types on TV because it makes us feel an inch more normal. BUT - the golden ingredient for this magic formula involves just a pinch of arrogance. So far, I don't WANT to be like any of the four Girls girls this series. I don't like to think of myself as a drug addict/sociopath; a wannabe-pop star whose life falls apart because of a break-up or someone who doesn't care when their friend dies.

Hope is not lost however, as I have every faith in Lena's ability to make my beloved ladies loveable again. Until that day, I will continue to await patiently my Girls reawakening - a prospect that feels me with more pleasure than perhaps it should do. The infection of Girls has inspired a generation of young women desperate for some televisual goddesses that are REAL and not dressed head to toe in leather (or velour for that matter). The magic of Girls reflects a new wave in the way we think about women. We can be funny AND pretty you know?

So even though I might not be laughing with Lena just yet this series, I will always and forever be well and truly sticking with Girls.