Before I met my birthparents, it would freak me out from here to next Tuesday when people said this to me. And people said it often; in fact, people STILL say it quite often. It’s actually happened twice in the past twenty-four hours . . . yesterday it was our waitress at the fine gourmet establishment where we spent Easter . . . “You look so familiar . . . what high school did you go to?” I told her, and no, that wasn’t it . . .

Then today, I’m at my No Worker Left Behind workshop, and again the question: “Did you used to work at [place I did NOT used to work at]? Because you just look so familiar to me.” AACK. No me gusta!

Because I’ve worked retail, I often attribute people’s sense that I “look familiar” to their having seen me at the Hallmark shop, or at the Gap, or at Old Navy, or wherever else I’ve worked . . . there’s that sort of familiar anonymity that comes with being a part of the landscape for so long. But it still kind of freaks me out . . .

And I know that “they” say that everybody has a twin somewhere . . . but how come some of us have so MANY “twins”? Worse is when someone shows me a picture of a person that they think “looks just like you” and not saying I’m a beauty queen, but the “looks just like me” person is almost always hideous-looking . . . which only leads me to believe that these people who are telling me that I “look so familiar” are in reality grouping me in with some nameless, amorphous pool of fat brunettes, and that I really don’t look like ANYBODY at all . . .

so please STOP SAYING IT TO ME!

me-and-joann.jpg

In other news . . . I did have a guy at the unemployment office ask me for my phone number . . . hmm. he didn’t write it down but said he would remember it . . .

at first, I turned my nose up at the idea of dating someone I met at the unemployment office . . . but hey, at least he’s trying to go back to school, right? And it’s certainly a step up from the last guy who tried to pick me up . . .

but luckily, I have a spare . . .

 02-09-2008

Alan David Hulett
Alan David Hulett Utica Alan David Hulett, 59, of Genesee St., formerly of Schenectady and Monroe, NY, passed away Wednesday, February 6, 2008, at his home. He was born March 15, 1948, in Schenectady, NY, a son of the late Richard and Gertrude Hulett. He graduated from Schenectady schools and Marist College. He was a veteran of the Armed Forces. Alan was employed by the United Food and Commercial Workers Union (UFCW) in Oriskany. Alan was of Catholic faith. He was a sports fanatic who loved football, basketball and baseball on the professional and college levels. He enjoyed board games and reading, especially keeping up with political and current events. He traveled extensively around the country, spending time in California, Texas, Chicago and New York City. Surviving are his girlfriend, Nikki Rossetti, of Watertown; a nephew, Jacques Lemieux, of Schenectady; and two brothers-in-law, Mark Lemieux, of Schenectady, and James Kloss, of Altamont, NY. He was predeceased by a sister, Darlene Lemieux, in 2006. Funeral services will be held at 7 p.m., Tuesday, February 12, 2008, from The Scala & Roefaro Funeral Home, 1122 Culver Ave., Utica. Interment in Parkview Cemetery, Schenectady, will be at the convenience of the family. Friends are invited to call at the funeral home on Tuesday from 5-7 p.m. prior to the service.

so I’m having my happy Saturday blog-fest, catching up on all of the blogs that I haven’t been able to keep up with all week. And in my journeys, I found this post, which linked to this previous post by the same blogger . . . it’s a lot to read, but as an adoptee, it was a poignant reminder to me that being an adoptee has been one of the most profound influences on my life . . .

So I finally went to apply for my passport this week, and in doing so, came across a glitch . . . my birth certificate was issued more than one year after I was born, and so I need to provide additional “proof” that I was, indeed, BORN and therefore have a legitimate right to a passport.

It’s not the hassle of tracking down the necessary information that bothers me . . . rather, it’s the almost-immediate sense of shame that comes upon me when I’m faced with an incident like this one that reminds me of my dubious beginnings . . .

The woman who was handling my application had to consult with someone else about it, and although she didn’t speak in hushed tones, I felt like she should have as she reported to her co-worker, “She was adopted . . . “

Yes, that’s right. I was adopted. Why does that word invoke such shame in me and make me want to hide under the counter? Why did I feel so utterly conspicuous, and why did I leave there with a heavy heart?

Of course, I felt compelled to say to her, “I’m not legally allowed to have a copy of my original birth certificate” . . . it annoys me, too, because they’re demanding something that I’m not allowed to have . . . so I have to get a copy of the adoption papers from the county I was adopted in (I had to ask, “The county I was born in, or the county I was adopted in?”), and my passport will likely be even more delayed than “normal” people’s are right now anyway . . .

but then again, as I have stated before, I don’t know anything about “normal”.

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