Last weekend, my friend and I were perusing Facebook together via gmail (you do what you gotta do! She lives in NY), sending each other links to profiles worth checking out — you know, hot guys, mismatched couples, and the odd professor who is trying to be cool by being on Facebook.

Anyway, after one link she sent to me, she wrote, “you are not going to believe this.” Try me! I’m not easily thrown. I clicked.

And then I almost threw up. It was me. The picture was me. The hair, the sunglasses, the discerning gaze. I scanned the profile nervously, reading for clues to see who had hacked my picture. But wait… my birthday wasn’t June 10. I don’t like Blues Traveler. I’m not from Oregon. The profile wasn’t of me. It was of someone who looked exactly like me. Read More »