I know a lot of you think you know Carly Fiorina because you see her in the news all the time, on the campaign trail, whatever. You think you understand her and, maybe more to the point, that she understands you. In short, you think you want to be Carly Fiorina's best friend.

Well, guess what, America: I was Carly Fiorina's best friend for kind of a long time, 1997 to 2002. In retrospect, those five years now feel like a thousand centuries. It was always "Martine, honey, could you grab me a Fresca? Theeenks." Or "Martine, honey, we're out of mixed nuts. Would you be a saint and run to the Pic-n-Save? Theeenks." Or "Martine, honey, could you install Windows 97 on my desktop? Theeenks." Did she ever once ask if she could do anything for me? I wouldn't have minded someone grabbing me a Fresca once in a while. But oh no, not Miss Super Special CEO of Hewlett Packard. (Or, as my husband Sy calls it, "PU-lett Puke-ard.")

If someone gave me the chance to go back to those days, you know what I'd say? "Theeenks but no theeenks."

I know I sound bitter, but I'm not. The truth is, I love Carly. Always have. We still talk online sometimes, nothing big. It's not like we're enemies. I texted her to say I thought she got a raw deal in that first debate, and she didn't respond, but I know how busy she is. (She did IM me to ask for a donation, though.) I'm just here to say that being Carly Fiorina's "best friend" might sound like an amazing honor. But you know the old saying "Be careful what you wish for"? Let's just leave it at that. recommended