The headline at Bullett Magazine is "Character Study: Carrie Fisher Makes Peace With Princess Leia," but I'm not sure I'd qualify it that way. I will say that when it comes to nerd humor and self-loathing, the first lady of Star Wars probably has me beat in every way. ["That's not hard!" - Thank you, inevitable responder.]
I've spent almost two-thirds of my life walking galaxies in those fucking white leather boots. I've even attempted to answer for your actions, to explain your possible motives for choices one of us failed to make. But while you will forever be remembered loitering in star-infested landscapes, existing endlessly in imaginations and onscreen, I putter noisily in that infamous closet of celebrity--expanding, wrinkling, stooping, and far too often, stupid with age.
It reads like a farewell to the character, but if Ms. Fisher is willing to do a Comedy Central Roast, I can't imagine she'd turn down a Disney paycheck if one were offered. In the meantime, enjoy her being simultaneously more loving and bitter about her character than any random Internet commenter could hope to be.