Directions for a Sunday

1. Meet your friends for brunch (you must be at least slightly hungover). Order mimosas.
2. Eat good brunch food, laugh, complain, exchange, engage. Order more mimosas.
3. Leave restaurant. Stop by a store to purchase orange juice and champagne.
4. Listen to Sexy Back. Drink more mimosas.

Leafy Helen Greens

Last week before the work week started I was walking west down 14th Street thinking as I do every week....

"What will I have for lunch this week at work?"

I remembered the Lemon Sesame Trader Joe's Dressing that I had in my work fridge, "Perfection!" Young, Innocent, healthy minded Helen Green thought, "I love putting that dressing on Spinach and throwing a few pignoli nuts on it and calling it a lunch salad!"

So I stopped in Trader Joes with thoughts of a healthy non-iron deficient body in my head. I threw in the spinach and I also threw in some lime popsicles, roasted corn and red pepper soup, a $3 bottle of TJ's Chardonnay and why not? a spinach goat cheese quesadilla in case I ran out of salad.

I wanted to be healthy.

And now I'm going to die!

I should have bought a more expensive bottle of wine.

Little Girl- Big Buisness!

It would be an understatement to say that I get nervous about the fact that The Man reads my e-mail.

The Man. Damn him. (Not really. I'm no hippy.)

But damn him for reading my email!!!

After a meeting about how The Man reads my email and how The Man is watching me and listening in on my phone and making sure I'm not embarrasing anyone, or ruining The Man's reputation, my paranoia has been brought to an all time high. Which made what just happened all the more frightening.

Now, in respect of The Man's requests and in appreciation of the Starbucks lattes he affords me to purchase, I have kept to a minimum the personal email I send via my work address. However, this morning I was indulging in a personal e-mail when my computer CRASHED! After a slip up in my typing/ judgement!

THE MAN!

He does not like me asking my friends if on Saturday night we should have "gone to a strip joint?*"

THEN CRASH. OFF. It was kind of like that movie "The Ring." (Which, during my viewing at 2AM in my apartment ended in my television shutting off and the Cable Box going NUTS. That wasn't The Man though, I think that was The Time Warner Cable. )




* (Calm down assholes it was for a bachelorette party, and also it was joke! Oiled up naked men disgust me. In fact naked men in general disgust me. This girl? Total prude.)

Dear Company Bitch,

Dear Company Bitch,

My name is Helen and I've never written a fan letter before. Actually, that's not true. In 1994 I wrote a letter to Chelsea Clinton telling her that she was going through an awkward phase. I advised her not to listen to her critics, because they were probably just jealous because she had a huge bedroom, most likely with a canopy bed. But other than that, my past is fan letter free.

Upon reading your blog several months ago I immediately fell in love with both the storyline and your witty repartee. I have turned numerous people on to your blog.

Over bi-weekly Monday night wings and beer conversation between myself and my friend, Janet, the conversation often turns back to you, "Do you think CB works in publishing?" "Do you think she looks like me?" "Do you think Re-Boyfriend is an IBanker?" "Maybe I WORK with Re-boyfriend!" The questions go on and on, week after week.

Honestly, she's gone a little far with her obsession of you, CB. If we were all friends (God that'd be so much fun, too!!), she would be the friend who sort of imitated you and made us all uncomfortable and forced us to roll our eyes. She totally wants to BE you. But who can blame her! On one of our more recent weekly outings, Janet informed me that she had taken her old boyfriend, (her Ex-Boyfriend) and Re-Boyfriended him!!! The lengths she'll go to CB! I never thought this far though! I must say I love your blog, but I'm not doing any Re-Boyfriending, and not just for obvious reasons, but also, because, I don't wanna look like a hack!

CB, this city is small. We sit on 9th Avenue at Coppersmith's gazing out the open air entrance and sometimes we see blonde girls whom we could be friends with and one of us will say, "maybe that's CB!" Sometimes when we're a little tipsy at bars we see a boy fawning over a girlfriend- and she seems tough and sassy, and getting him back a little for his former wrong doings, while still being able to maintain a nice, loving relationship, "That could be them!" "We should ask!" We don't though. I swear.

CB, make a young pediatric nutritionist's dream come true. She won't scare you. And you guys can talk and complain about your Re-Boyfriends together. And we have oh-so-many questions to ask of you. Like how you and Re-Boyfriend met and if you think you'll get married, and where you're from and where you live and what you're doing for Halloween because I think we should go as the Double Mint twins, because I think the answer is that yes, we do look alike. Janet can come too, I guess. If you're not, like, scared with her obsession.

Sincerely,
Helen Green

"Haha! ...But like, for real man..."

It's Monday! So let's face some facts:

No matter how well you know someone and their mental stability and/or how much you know someone likes fresh air, if you're having a sad conversation on the phone and one person asks another "Where are you?" and the answer is "My roof," it's just going to sound suspect.