Memories: Objects in the Rear View Mirror Resemble a Fun House

So, Mrs. B, on the topic of romance novels, I decided to go to a book I remembered reading and loving as a young girl and realized just how different it seems to me now. For one thing, I'm a very different girl. I've grown up a lot, learned a lot about what healthy relationships are (as well as what they aren't), and have developed decided tastes for things like, well, romantic relationships and what is "good writing" versus bad.

The Haunting of Brier Rose is a product of the era of romance novels that produced it. It was written in the mid-90s and reads like what was popularly published at the time, even for the budding genre of supernatural romance. The heroine is more Jane Bennett than Lizzy  and is certainly no Buffy, the hero more Heathcliff (and an unmitigated ass), than someone I can get behind (and granted, I've loved some unmitigated literary asses over my time as a reader, although, never really Heathcliff who seems abusive for no reason.) and perhaps that's part of the other problem I'm finding with the story.

A Case of Mistaken Identity

So, Mrs. B....

I know this is going off topic, but I have had a bit of an ... I wouldn't call it identity crisis... I suppose, it is more of a case of mistaken identity. Purloined personality, perhaps. It's been happening to me my whole life. Every so often I will encounter someone who tells me I remind them of someone (or that someone reminds them of me). Sometimes the comparisons are great -- I love being compared to someones sister, cousin, daughter, or mom or some awesome famous or historically important person (I keep voting for Felicia Day or Abraham Lincoln, but I have yet to be that lucky).

More often than not, I'm left a little unsure of how to respond.

Recently, we were forced to have our photos taken at work. This happens periodically. I hateses it. They never come out right and I always have to force myself not to make a stupid face when the flash goes off (especially if forewarned). New Years Resolution number 7 this year was to avoid pulling crazy faces (or in particular Angle's Patent Pending "Crazy Face": I look too darned excited to be out an about on my day off from the Funny Farm....). So, reluctantly, as you can imagine, I went into the recent rash of picture taking. (I prefer being behind the camera, rather than in front -- always have, even when I was a cute, young thing -- remember the Sock Hop? The "Mad, Surprise Camerawoman?" Me. Totally me. By the way, Mrs. B., you are fantastically photogenic on the fly.... ) After all, I'm still licking my wounds from the ID badge, Licence Renewal, and Passport hat-trick from last year.

Yeah, it was pretty bad.

So, after a little bit of argument on my part and a statement from my boss that summed up to "because I said so, stop killing fun," I allowed my soul ... er picture to be taken. I smiled without showing my teeth. I did not hold my eyes too far open. I tried to avoid looking like the generally odd-and-out-of-place person I am. 

Apparently, I only succeeded in making myself look like someone else entirely. 

I was originally pleased with the outcome, that was until a co-worker made a regrettable comparison. She takes one look at the picture I okayed and said "You look like Sarah Palin."

This is not to say she's not a lovely woman,
but this is not who I think of when I look in the mirror.

I did a double take. 

This is not to say that I don't appreciate the comparison with a woman who looks lovely at her age. However, I think I'm a good 24-years her junior. 

::blinkity blinkity::

Crap.

I've got to stop letting people take my picture. Or I need to just conveniently be missing when I need a new one taken. 

Divergent politics aside, this isn't the worst person in the world to be compared to. I've been getting a lot of comparisons of late to "The New Girl" and Zooey Deschanel, and granted that is more the me that friends remember from days before working where I am now: the bubbly, silly, frankly naive girl who sings to herself (I still do) and tends to hang with more guys than girls. But, my hanging with the guys was less beers and more books. Gaming books that is. Yeah, I can totally hack and slash my way out of a dungeon and I can give you advice about how to get past the blood dragon guarding the duergar cairn, but I would be totally lost on being fashionably adorkable.

She does have a point, though. I just gotta be me.

However, I still wish I could be as freaking awesome as Felicia Day. 

+10 to AWESOME! 

Just saying.

Much love from your ever crazy, goofy, and generally misunderstood,

Angle.