Here’s the New Yorker’s abstract of her latest:
The writer and her friend Molly were pounding veggie burgers when Noah and his friend Brian walked in, holding hands.
In the actual piece, Lena tells the story of receiving this Facebook message from the parents of an ex-boyfriend:
Bill and I remember you with such pleasure and fondness! But it’s time to sever the Facebook connection so I’m going to block you. We wish you all the BEST!”
Dunham was dumbfounded.
I was dumbfounded. I can only compare it to the feeling of opening your cupboard to grab a cookie, but instead of getting a cookie you get dick-slapped.
Apparently with Nora Ephron gone, the neurotic-New-York-woman-who-is-obsessed-with-her-body slot is available.
Just for the record, I’m going to call bullshit on this. I would really like to know if it’s been fact-checked; I would really like to know if Dunham ever received that message on Facebook. Because it has all the earmarks of a piece that might have some elements of truth, but is basically a construct.