Have I ever told you about the time…I was mistaken for a radio host?

Do you know anyone who has one of those faces that looks just SO familiar? One of those faces that you could swear you’ve met before? Maybe at your friend’s cousin’s Bar Mitzvah or something like that?

Well I’m THAT face. That’s MY face. And, no, we have NEVER met. The closest I’ve ever been to a Bar Mitzvah was watching Gordo go through his on the Lizzie McGuire show – so I’m pretty confident it wasn’t me.

 I don’t mean I have these mistaken run-ins once a year. I mean it happens to me almost once a week. People always ask, “We’ve met before?” No.

“You have a sister who looks like you?” No.

“A cousin?” No.

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” Yes.

“You’re really, really sure?” Really, really, yes. I’m sure.

I suppose maybe I have met some of them and don’t remember, but I have pretty insane memory for faces so I doubt it. Try and ask me something useful and my mind is blank, but ask me to recall the face of that girl who was the cashier at the store that closed down 12 years ago and BAM, I’ve got it.

I know this familiar issue is just one of my own hang ups. My constant fear of being both too much and too ordinary all at the same time. Like I could slip in and out of your life so easily – so comfortably – but also never really make an impression on you. To be some nice girl you once kind of knew. Or maybe it was some other plain short blonde girl? Hard to say.

I mean I get it – I I understand that it goes both ways. I have a friend/past co-worker who has the opposite problem, a forgettable face. She could meet people over and over again and they would still introduce themselves like they had never met before. I’ve had someone do that to me several times and it would throw me off because I felt so certain they DID know me. Eventually a friend assured me, “Yes, they know you, they are just an asshole.” So to you musicians out there who do that, I just want to say a big FUCK you in this blog, which none of you will ever see. Clearly I’m very brave and confrontational.

Anyway, my co-worker and I had discussed our forgettable/familiar faces on a four hour car ride to a conference in Slave Lake. Was Slave Lake, Alberta on my bucket list of dream places to visit? This may shock you, but no, no it was not, BUT it did get me out of the office and I was allowed to expense my McDonald’s lunch (the only restaurant on the drive there) and I can never say no to Dons (I will FIGHT anyone who doesn’t see McDonalds as the monarchy of fast food fries).

When we finally arrived at the conference my co-worker spotted a table with a handful of people who she knew from many past conferences. We sat down with them and began with painful conference small talk and went around and did introductions. MULTIPLE people at that table insisted they had met me before. After a lengthy conversation assuring them that they didn’t know me, my co-worker finally piped in to inform that that they actually did know her, and had met her numerous times. At the end of the conversation I don’t think we had truly convinced anyone that they knew her and didn’t know me, but we tried our best (for the record I don’t think she’s forgettable and she should really consider becoming a spy).

Although people commonly think they’ve met me – occasionally people even straight up think I’m someone else. Once when I was donating blood a guy came up to me and casually started a conversation with “Hannah.” At first I was confused until I realized what was happening and had to inform him:

I’m not Hannah, and sorry if I haven’t been that engaged in hearing about your dog peeing everywhere, but I’m about to pass out from losing so much blood SO can please you grab me one of those nurses? Or better yet one of the free packages of Oreos? Thanks! Great to meet you and good luck with the new puppy!

The funny thing is, it’s not just my face. I’ve been stopped by a cab driver who timidly asked if I was a talk show host from his favourite radio station in Edmonton because of my voice. I choose to believe it was because I was wildly funny and engaging, but sadly I had to inform him that I wasn’t an Edmonton voice celebrity, but rather just some nobody girl who talks a lot (not on the radio). Even the first time I ever got a massage the masseuse asked me if I was a horseback rider because she recognized my back. Yes, recognized my BACK. She thought I was a former client who was a competitive horseback rider.

Ah, yes, the old familiar back problem. A common mistake I’m sure. I suppose if I have a familiar face and voice…. why not a familiar back? Totally normal.

So go ahead PLEASE tell me you know me, or my voice, or my back, or any other part of my body or personality for that matter. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before, and obviously I take it really, really well 😉