Went out to the South Coast Plaza Mall in Southern California today. It was great! They were almost paying you to shop. Really cute $60 nightgowns turned out to be $11 for no reason at all. I never use credit ((NEVER)) (really), so I missed out on an additional 10% for using their credit card. Waited through a long line in See's, but their candy is worth it. (There are no See's Candy stores in Tulsa.) I always give John a pound of See's Marzipan for Christmas and another one for Valentine's Day. If he has eaten it all before his birthday in April, he might get another pound. Interesting crowd in the line - the man in front of me had 8 gift certificates and was taking forever. The woman behind me accused me of cheating at my Nook Solitaire game - really!? It's electronic, for Pete's sake. As much as I wanted to just forget about the candy, I was not going to give her my place in line. But my point today is that for some odd reason, when I am in Southern California, at least once a week, some stranger (it's always a stranger because anyone who knows me knows better) will ask me is I am Meryl Streep. Huh? I used to just say "no", and as often as not, that didn't convince them. Now I tell them that if I was Meryl Streep, I would fire my trainer and my dermatologist. Such a change - when I was in my early 20's, strangers would actually call me Joan - thinking I was Joan Baez. Huh? Now this was in the days when smokers ruled the world and I very rarely was able to breathe through my nose; the solution decided upon by my ENT doctor (ear, nose, throat) was to undeviate my septum. And since he was already mucking about, he might as well remove the bump. I actually had a date insist on taking me to a Joan Baez concert (just shoot me next time), to convince me that I could actually be her sister. And that convinced me that I should just quit blow drying my long, curly hair straight and say "Yes" to the nose bump removal - the weird hippie tax cheat look was not for me. So, who do you get mistaken for? Or do you have to be in Southern California for that to happen? Please don't tell me it only happens to me!
I added this picture which Google found when I searched for Maryl Streep Images in Public Domain. But I added the caption so you know who should get credit for it.
Oh my goodness, I would LOVE to be mistaken for Meryl Streep! Are you kidding???? I'm not mistaken for anybody, but my proudest moment was having 2 different people tell me that there was something about me that reminded them of Sigourney Weaver. (It's probably the big square jaw!) But from a distance, or in a photo, nope. No glamorous celebrity doppelgangers for me. (And btw, I'm still giggling naughtily at your comments about Joan Baez...)
ReplyDeleteOh Anne - I can totally see the Sigourney Weaver in you! I will never look at your pictures the same again. Joan Baez was a complex person, wasn't she? But then, aren't we all. Wasn't there a rumor that she spent her unpaid tax money on an expensive sports car? In the pre-internet days, celebrities had a lot more plausible deniability.
ReplyDeleteI was trying to work out what Joan B and Meryl had in common - it's your great cheekbones that reminds people of these other women I'll bet. Funny enough, I was blonde for most of my life (the dark red hair only came after I retired, just for fun) and several times people told me I looked like Shelley Long (of Cheers fame). Whether they were influenced by my first name or whether it was just the similar hairstyle, I'm not sure, but I was always flattered. Mind, in Oklahoma, folks aren't as likely to ask you if you ARE the famous person you look like! So you might be safe from being mobbed, or whatever! Hope your guy appreciates all you go through for his candy!
ReplyDeleteHey Shelley - You do take a great picture and I bet you were a dynamite blonde! The matching name is a curiosity - I guess Beryl and Meryl are pretty close too. Although, no one who has ever stopped me has known my name. You're totally right about Oklahoma. The rich and famous here are just folks - Garth Brooks shops for groceries and no one gives him a second look. That's how acclimated I've become - my idea of famous is a country music star. Next week, I'm going to be in Paris and we'll see.
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