Face Off

Emily Gould (whom I don't personally know) is one of those people whose talent I'm jealous of in the most absolutely depressing of ways. This post is a great example of how and why she has this effect on me. She's worth reading if you're ever feeling introspective, but can't quite put into words why you're feeling introspective.

I point out that post because I can relate to it in a very superficial way. While I certainly do not think of myself as one of those people who radiate "look at me waves," as she says, I do, on a once-to-twice-per-day basis, get stared at. I'm convinced this is because I am the generic person: people always think I am someone else they know. Or Anne Hathaway circa The Princess Diaries. (Anne, if you're reading this, I'm sorry.)

"Tiffany?" A man came up and asked me on an airplane once. "Are you Bob Garrett's daughter?" a woman once asked me while in line for coffee. "I know you!" said a drunk boy at a pizza place. No; no you don't, I replied. "No, really, I know you! I'm not trying to hit on you," he angrily shot back. "I know," I said, "but trust me, you don't know me." (My cyber presence isn't even immune to this phenomenon.)

And this staring problem is only compounded in New York, where you come into contact with thousands of people on a daily basis, a few of whom search my face with a look that reads, "Where do I know that girl from?" (I did that to Luke Wilson once, who sheepishly smiled and waved at me. I ignored him, which only made my faux pas all the more groan-worthy once I realized who he was.)

The reason I know these people don't know me is because I never forget a face--to an embarrassing extent. I can't tell you how many people I've been introduced to, only to run into them later where they say, "I'm sorry... What's your name again?" All this does is remind me of how unmemorable I personally am, unless I'm getting mistaken for someone else.

So, yeah, anonymity--there's no such thing.

What's old is new again

I must admit, I haven’t been loving the ol' Gawk too much since J. Co left. I especially avoided the site once fingers started pointing at Jersey for the noxious odor that blanketed NYC recently. (You may not know it, but I’m viciously defensive of my home state.) Desperate to avoid actually working today, however, I landed at Gawker and came across this:

"Bad Smell Wrapup: Oh Captain, Mercaptan

The mystery (or is it a 'puzzle?') of yesterday's clouds of foul-smelling mercaptan (we learned a word!) hasn't yet been resolved, but everyone's been eager to point the finger at usual bad-smell scapegoat, the Garden State. The accusations have ranged in scale from subtle, i.e. the Times' whispered 'Some suspicion fell on New Jersey,' to the, uh, the not so subtle. We're left feeling sort of of bad for New Jersey, which hasn't at all been confirmed as the source of the odor. We're going to recommend that they go with the classic 'he who smelt it dealt it' defense-- it's been working for us since first grade."

I think I just feel in love all over again.

photo: solid threads