whoa, twins!

I've been on lots of dates in my life. Granted, I haven't had a single offer in the past five months, but during my glorious college days, I usually had a couple a week. But these were not just regular old dates. They were first dates. Every one of them. Because, somehow, I never managed to score a second date with anyone. Ever. Now, most of the time, I was more than okay with this, but still. It would have been nice to know that somebody wanted to spend more than just one evening with me.

I thought I was getting pretty good at the first-date-get-to-know-you conversation and body language. Lean forward and smile intently during a story. Toss head back and laugh at punchline. Really, I had it down. I repeated it a hundred times a semester, so I definitely had enough practice. Was my personality really that lame that not one single man wanted to call me again?

Now, my little sister and I look a lot alike. A lot. Which can be pretty funny at times. We had our bishop convinced for an entire year that we were twins.

Hey, girls. My wife tried to tell me last week that you two actually aren't twins. Don't worry, though. I didn't fall for it.

Good job, bishop. You're too smart for her!

I had a large 8x10 picture of her in my apartment last year, and every single person who walked in thought it was me. Without fail. (Did they really think I was that vain? Seriously, that's embarrassing.)

Hey, that's a really good picture of you!

Oh. Thanks. That's not me.

Wow, I didn't know you were a twin!

That's probably because I'm not.

(Apparently, she's the cute one, because every "really good picture of me" has actually been of her.) So I've come to understand when people may occasionaly mistake us for each other. Complete strangers often smile, wave, "Hi, Ashley!" "Oh, hey. I'm actually her sister." And the same thing happened to her. A lot.

Um, Poodle, could you tell your friends that I'm not you?

What?

Oh, some boy today thought I was you.

Well, who was he?

I don't know. Brown hair, looked like an engineer.

Well, gee. That sure narrows it down.

He thinks he went on a date with me last week.

What?! Did you tell him you're my sister?

Well, no. I just told him I had no idea who he was. (She really is quite a charmer.)

Wow, thanks. That's wonderful. How often does this happen, exactly?

Oh, about once a week.

Great. That's just fabulous.

Well, at least it wasn't my lame personality that kept them away.