Helen Green: It's Your Birthday!

And on the eve of this b'day, I got a gift that I could never have expected.

The doorman previously discussed, whom I was trying to woo, not only picked up the phone before I told him where I was going, but ANNOUNCED me--- using my name!

"Helen is here," he said in his soft baritone, cupping his hand over the phone like he does.

It was beautiful. It was touching. I couldn't look him in the eye I was so moved. And now we only have half a month together- it is too bad. I know I said I didn't want it but, I admit, I kind of wanted to be boys with him, and there is just not enough time for that.


Update on Mission:Y26,GF: I didn't get my nails done as promised... clearly, I cannot be trusted.

M:Y26,GF

Let me tell you a little story about last Friday night....

I was at a restaurant when my dinner date ordered a bottle of wine. The waiter looked from him to me and said, "Just one glass?" GASP! He doubted my over 21 status and thought my date was a pedaphile! (Also, apparently, an alcoholic.)

Tomorrow I turn 26 years old.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS!?!?!

It means it's time for me to get FANCY!

26 is FOR REAL! So, I need to GET real. So, in preparing for tomorrow, I've been working on-

Mission: "You're 26, Get Fancy!"

For all of you who are worried that I'm going to change come 9:42 pm tomorrow into a fancy young lady and you're going to lose the Helen Green you know and love and can count on to sport a ponytail to a nice affair, here's a little spoiler alert: M: Y26,GF is not going well and has been adapted! I was doing everything in my power to become a little fancier. So, when nothing was working, I decided to start small. Mission " You're 26, Get Fancy" turned into:

Mission: "You're 26 and you need a bag NOT from Abercrombie and Fitch or American Eagle for an upcoming wedding so let's start there, Get Fancy!"

How did I begin to accomplish this you ask? Here were my rules:

1. No shopping at stores like A&F or AE or The Gap.
2. Peruse 5th Ave during lunch where all the fancy stores are and try to fit in with the fanciest of them all to get a feel for it.
3. Minimum. Fancy things aren't cheap so maybe a minimum would force the fanciness.
4. While shopping if I feel uncomfortable amongst the fancy people, I will throw out an article of clothing I am wearing once home.

Here are why those rules sucked:

1. I love those stores.
2. Those people are European and overwhelming and 5th Ave still contains stores like Anthropologie and Lacoste which are not fancy, but in some ways appear to be fancy, thus wooing me, creating danger.
3. Fancy things aren't usually cheap BUT casual things can be expensive which led me to several times almost buying non fancy items that just cost more. This pleases me but does not accomplish the task at hand.
4. That was good but it was like imposing self hatred, which isn't cool.

Tonight I am getting my nails done, which I realize is not that fancy but it's progress. I'm also going to a fancy restaurant for my birthday, I think the fanciest restaurant I've ever been to. But, I've always been sort of fancy when it comes to food, so this is, in a way, maintaining, though upgrading for celebrating. Which is fantastic but unrelated to the mission.

Very minimal Progress on M:Y26,GF.

Sonic BOOM

I had this conversation with a man I sort of know the other day, a man my friends and I refer to as... well let's say his name Joshua.... if his name was Joshua we'd refer to him as "Sonic Joshua." His name is not Joshua, but I assume he is savy so I will not put his real name here. (Story to come with friend's approval and when I have nothing to write about one day.)

Helen: Hey! I haven't seen you in awhile!
Sonic Joshua: I know! You got a haircut!
Helen: Yesterday- I did! So where have you been?
Sonic Joshua: Oh around, I've been around,just a little less, I guess we've just been missing each other!
Helen: Yeah me too- around but a little less.
Sonic Joshua: Well good seeing you!
Helen: Yeah you too!
Sonice Joshua: And good luck with that.
Helen: Thank you!
Sonic Joshua starts to turn away....

Helen: Wait, good luck with what? ......My haircut?
Sonic Joshua: Yeah!
Helen: Oh. (tips head, contemplates)OK! Thanks!

And so it was decided by me that from now on when we see people we haven't seen in awhile and they just got a new haircut, they shall be wished 'Good Luck.'

A. Roaches

That's my answer. In the preverbial NY apt question of mice or roaches-- I choose roaches. Hands Down. Sure, they're terribly gross, but mice..... mice are like... grosser. Totes grosser.

Last night as I was going through my closet on a search for a proper outfit to wear today, I saw a mouse in my room. I of course FLIPPED out and jumped on my bed. It was a small mouse but it was a mouse. I HATE mice! I know, I know everyone hates mice, but I 'nightmares for days' hate mice.

I sat there, on my newly made bed. Newly made as in the day before, when I had THOROUGHLY CLEANED my room, closet and bathroom. How clean? Clean 'my friends were away in Jersey/ in London/ at wedding/ with temporarily long distance husband/ in Williamsburg at a party (and come on, that's the same thing as being away because it's not like I'm going to go out in WILLIAMSBURG!)'this weekend clean, so I had nothing to do, clean.

I called the roomate, who I believed was across the hall- a mere 6 or 7 feet from where I sat. "We have a mouse!" She was not in fact home. It came out again. I squeled then I began calling anyone who could handle such a high pitched noise after midnight.

It came out again. Called the roomate "Ok, so it's not a mouse, it's a roach BUT IT'S SO BIG IT COULD BE A MOUSE!"
When the roomate came home at 1AMish I was nursing a popsicle and a vodka soda, perched on a kitchen chair (the fight was arduous and had gone into different rooms of the apt.), Raid in one hand, newly dead humongous (c'mon it TOTALLY looked like a mouse) roach belly up on the floor.

It smelled like 2004 in the kitchen.*

Last night, we breathed a huge, Raid scented sigh of relief because we are both on the roach side of the aforementioned question. However Roomie 3 is not and she is away and knows little of the incident. So, maybe we keep this between you and me?

*I had a lot of roaches in my apt that year.

Haircuts....

are SO boring.

Why doesn't anyone ever talk about this!?

Champagne Coffee

There are certain things I believe in. I believe in treating yourself every once in awhile, I believe that sometimes you have to make things happen, I believe in sandals in the winter, I believe that there is more than one person for each person, I believe that Starbucks is a good corporation and should be treated as such, I believe in making events out of milestones, I believe in gay marriage and I believe in the practice of the homage.

The homage is a savoring- the clinking of the metaphorical champagne glasses, an appreciation for things once loved, once savored, possibly still loved and memories still savored. An homage could be a farewell, it can be an appreciation from a far, but most importantly it is with thought and respect and done ceremoniously. There is no whining or crying during homages, they are respectful events and should not allow you to indulge in self-pity. Despite ill feelings, or a hurt heart, an homage is to 'Cheers' the good times.

I believe whole heartedly in the homage- it does not make things better but it respects the reasons for the sentiment. Because after all, hurt feelings and a feeling of absence only come from those who have the power to cause them, have the power to break your heart and make you cry, from ones once held so dear.

February 17th I try to be generous to people, grab some Japanese snack mix and pop open a Bud Light. It is the day my grandfather died.

When my uncle died several months ago we let the good wine flow and my cousins donned pink shirts, as their father was known for.

On the first birthday of his that I spent without the X, I grabbed a slice of his favorite pizza and was generous with brown liquor on the rocks.

After the death of an ex-college roommate's ex-college roommate we ordered a pitcher of beer as we would in Binghamton in the years spent with her.

After the death of my roommate's friend (a recent friend of mine) we partook in something decidingly approved by him. I don't remember what, but I remember the sentiment. I remembered the feeling of the homage.

On birthdays of my young cousins, spent states away, I will often indulge in a childish treat after an entertaining discussion with them via phone. Sometimes, in fact, they will partake in the homage as I will ask them what I should do to celebrate their birthdays.

This morning, on my way to work I crossed the street and then turned around to notice a Dunkin' Donuts. I walked back the way that I came and ordered my coffee with milk, no sugar. Clink, clink.

FYI

Pretzels dipped in hot chocolate does not a chocolate covered pretzel make.

Also does not a good idea as it sounds make.

I Know I'm Gonna Like It Here!

It's been sort of a dream for me to be recognized by doormen. A few months ago it became a dream come true! I'd walk by the security guards in my office building and they would all greet me, "Hello Miss Green!" "Good Morning Miss. Green!" "Have a lovely day Miss. Green!" I felt like Annie in the movie when she first shows up at the Warbucks household ("No need to pick up any toys! That's OK, I haven't got any anyway!! ). Out of the hundreds upon hundreds of people in this building I felt somehow chosen. Being recognized by a doorman makes you feel like you belong some place. (Does this sound like I need to be on a couch? I need acceptance people!!)

Months later though, things changed. I have always received preferential treatment from these security guards, I'm not complaining. But now days they see me as their homegirl and don't take my Ralph Lauren pumps, Vera Wang glasses and any other attempts at non-plebian like fashion, seriously! I didn't want homegirl acceptance, I wanted "Hello Miss. Green" acceptance!!!! And what I was suddenly getting was home girl acceptance.

They started to greet me: "Sup Hel?"

I stopped in my tracks the first time, "Shit. They know- that I am one of the people. A plebian."

When I forget my pass (which I do a decent amount) they let me straight through- I used to just pout my lips and tip my head, remove an ipod plug from my ear and whine, "You're gonna kill me," like a popular high school sophomore would apologize to her chubby male teacher for leaving her "totally perfectly completed Spanish homework in my foyer!" in front of her class, extracting any ounce of insecurity that still remains from the teacher's unpopular high school years and once again finding himself bowing down to the popular girl.

"Helen," they say in a reprimanding voice, "Ok.." With a wink!

Except LAST time, a middle aged woman saw it happen and screamed "YOU NEVER DO THAT FOR ME, NEXT TIME THIS HAPPENS I AM BRINGING THIS INCIDENT UP!" Woh. That's when I realized- I am really treated differently! Why? BECAUSE they believe that I am one of the people!

You may be doubting that that's the reason. I'll say it, I too thought I got the preferential treatment because of my large smile, small frame and ability to pout and extract high school insecurity from them, but then, I remembered a conversation that occurred during the transit strike:

Security Guard #1: How'd you get in?
Me: walked.
SG 1: From home? Rough. I would have given you a ride.
Me: Huh? It's cold, but it's really not that bad
SG 1: What time did you have to leave to walk
Me: 45 minutes ago
SG 2: from ROCKAWAY??
Me: Huh? I live on the Upper West Side.
SG: But your license said.... (my license... which they saw maybe twice in November)...
Me: Oh no, I haven't changed that from when I grew up...
SG 2: Ohhhh we were gonna say!

I've realized that I never dispelled their idea that I come from Rockaway, (near where they come from) and on occasion when something about Rockaway or the area of Brooklyn near it comes up, I just go along with it as I spent a large majority of a few years in that area and am able to converse about it. The Belt, Reese Park, Breezy, Kings Plaza-- bring it on, I know all the terms and conditions. I can hang with the blue collared people. And even if I am not exactly one of them, I am actress adept in improv and that comes in handy. If this is the reason for acceptance I must hold on!

They've given me that daily ounce of acceptance that I needed for awhile, but it's really waning. It doesn't do for me what it used to, especially since it's just homegirl acceptance.

There is a doorman in a building that I have been going to lately and I have high hopes. I only have less than a month more of frequenting this particular building, which is not even enough time for homegirl acceptance BUT just enough time to feel like Annie for a few days-- and just in time for my birthday! This is the ideal situation!

I thought I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eye last night, but then nothing. And I had to TELL him where I was going. What do I expect? These things don't happen over night.