Who is Your Doppelganger?

As some of you may have noticed on Facebook and Twitter, it’s Doppelganger Week (which seems to be evolving into Doppelganger Month!). Users have been changing their profile pictures and avatars to a celebrity who they are often told they look like. I’ve met “Victoria Principal,” “Olivia Newton John,” “Ferris Bueller” (VHS Shawn, for those of you who know him! That was a good one. …), Bill Clinton, and more.

I’m too lazy to change to my avatar, honestly, but if I were going to change it for Doppelganger Week, here’s who I’d change it to:

 

Yep, that’s right. I’ve been told more than once I remind someone of Bonnie Hunt. Too bad I’m not nearly as funny.

Superman has been told more than once that he looks like Oscar De La Hoya! Once we were in Benihanas, and a woman on the other side of the table came over and said, “I know you’re probably told this ALL the time, but … ” I loved that. (Oscar is hot!) (And so is Superman!)

So what about you? Who is your celebrity look-alike?

Happy Anniversary to Us!

Martini at Top of the Mark, San Francisco - Photo by C. Sanchez, 2009

Martini at Top of the Mark, San Francisco - Photo by C. Sanchez, 2009

Here’s where we toasted our 20th anniversary — at the Top of the Mark in San Francisco!

(We spent our 15th anniversary toasting each other in Manhattan, so this milestone was celebrated in another great city.)

The views were gorgeous, the company was superb, and we were able to toast to 20 great years of being married, being best friends, and being in love.

… and then start planning our 25th!

(Hmmm … what city should we see then?)

Traditions: Saturday Salsa

DSC_0822It’s a bunch of tomato-y goodness: peppers, onions, tomatoes, tomatillos, serranos, cilantro. …

But it’s more than all that.

It’s tradition.

It’s fall, it’s football, it’s baseball, it’s beat-up-coffeetable, it’s watching TV from the floor, it’s Sunday brunches, it’s gold bowl, it’s Saturdays, it’s Sundays.

It’s Superman’s salsa.

He’s been making this concoction since we got married or so. He started putting it together himself, then kept adding and refining until he got it just right – just the right number of Serrano chilis, just the right amount of El Pato tomato sauce. And now it’s perfect.

He makes it every “big game day.” So he’s been making it a lot lately (as our Angels are in the playoffs, our UCLA is playing again, and pro football is back on every Sunday).

He gets up on Saturday mornings, throws on some shorts, runs across the street to the supermarket and gets a million of those little vegetable baggies and fills them up with all the secret ingredients. The supermarket checkout lady knows him, and knows he’s the guy who buys tomatillos, because no one else is sure what tomatillos are used for. Continue reading

Learning Great Stories From People You Randomly Meet

He was tall and lean, his bald head dotted with age spots. But the way he moved – the way he rested back languidly in the patio chair – spoke of a youthfulness that belied his 80 years. Maybe it was a smoothness borne of decades of athleticism. Or maybe a military career. Something. …

He moved his hands to swat the pigeons away, and his long fingers gave away more of his story. Something involving wealth. Something involving elegance. Something involving shiny automobiles, perhaps. …

“You’re a cool chick,” he yelled to me across the patio.

The waitress walked away as I squinted back at him through the heat. I pulled my chair in and set my purse in an empty seat.

“Pardon?”

“You’re a cool chick,” he repeated. He smiled when he said it this time. He directed his oversized sunglasses more pointedly toward me, but maintained his languid pose, one elbow draped over the chair beside him. He motioned again with his hand toward the empty patio. “It’s hotter than blazes out here, but you’re sitting outside.”

I laughed politely. “Well, let’s see how long I last.”

The heat truly was oppressive. Over 100 degrees. Continue reading