LOBO/AKM-GSIAfter what seems like years of L.A.-bashing, Lena Dunham may be trading in her New York hustle-and-bustle for a little bit of that City of Angels lifestyle.
Rumors have been floating around that the Girls creator is about to close on an almost-$3-million-dollar house in Hollywood, which is a major change from her current digs in Brooklyn. The star isn't commenting on why she's making the switch, but it would make sense that she's finding herself in Tinseltown more and more these days. Either that or she found that a New York City without Beyoncé and Jay Z is not a New York City worth living in.
Regardless, Dunham's legions of fans are no doubt sitting on pins and needles wondering what her soon-to-be L.A. life is going to be like. Well, wonder no more, because we have obtained an exclusive (fake) diary entry of her West Coast day. This never-before-seen (because it exists only in our minds) day-in-the-life provides an insight into Lena's (imaginary) newly-enlightened psyche.
6 a.m. I wake up early, thanks to the fact that my body is still on East Coast time. Plus, I am a highly intelligent human being whose brain runs far more than the average person. I take a second to jot in my dream journal about the vision of riding horseback along the beach with Larry David that came to me last night. Must put in my upcoming feminist manifesto, tentatively titled Actually Maybe I Am That Kind of Girl.
8 a.m. I finally rouse myself from bed (made with fair-trade organic sheets, of course) and pad into the kitchen for a breakfast of the bagels I have flown in from Brooklyn every morning. Angelenos are kidding themselves if they think these soggy, tiny bread rounds they call "New York-style bagels" are remotely edible.
8:02 a.m. I enter the kitchen to find Taylor Swift, dressed inexplicably in a 1950s polka-dot swimsuit and a kicky beret, covered in flour and baking what appears to be her 17th batch of cookies. "What are you doing here?" I ask as I rub the sleep out of my eyes. "I let myself in with the key you didn't know I had, silly!" she replies, as she adjust the wall full of portraits of the two of us that was not there yesterday. "I knew you were sleeping thanks to my surveillance feed, so I thought I would surprise you with cookies. We're besties, remember?" She finishes with a maniacal giggle.
9:00 a.m. After I'm done sampling Tay Tay's (she asks me to call her that) handiwork, I decide it's time to get dressed and seize this beautiful Los Angeles day. I open my drawer full of my new Kale sweatshirts in every color—today I pick green, to celebrate the fact that I saw my first blade of grass.
10 a.m. Time to take Lamby for a hike at Runyon Canyon. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
11 a.m. A quick stop at Juice Press, for further assimiliation.
12 p.m. It's time for my Tay Tay-mandated Taylor Swift music dance break. For today's three-song requirement, I choose "Shake It Off," "Love Story," and "22." I Instagram a video of myself dancing and make sure to include "bestie" in the caption.
1 p.m. - 4 p.m. I spend the afternoon stalking Beyoncé reading The New Yorker.
5 p.m. I try out a new acro yoga studio, but am thrown off by how busy it is. Everyone in Brooklyn was too busy drinking PBR and complaining about the G train to exercise, which made for a very serene practice. Mark this studio down as a maybe—ample parking is a plus, but I felt as though the clientele was judging me for the candy bar wrapper that accidentally fell out of my purse before class.
7 p.m. I cruise up and down Sunset Boulevard in Silver Lake hoping to discover the next new love interest for Girls. I see a few prospects, but so far no one's clothes are tattered enough, nor did I see any beards the perfect median between Tattoo Artist and Elderly Amish Man.
9 p.m. I return home, and spend a solid 20 minutes running up and down my hallways yelling and screaming, because for the first time in my life I actually have hallways. Tomorrow I will do the same in my closets (plural!).
10 p.m. I end the night in bed watching a hardcore porno film as research for the next Girls sex scene. We're alway trying to go above and beyond. Maybe tomorrow I will visit one of Hollywood's famous strip clubs before my appointment with my tarot card reader. God Bless Los Angeles.