Who?

I think I'm beginning to sympathize with my wife.

The back-story:

One of my strict requirements when I am dating someone is that she is attractive to me. I can't tell you how many times I have passed up a wonderful opportunity at a long-term relationship based solely on the fact that I was not in any way, shape or form attracted to my would-be companion.

My Lovely Wife™ (at the time, still My Lovely Girlfriend™) had the edge and good fortune to be very attractive to me. I met her in '98 while Living The Dream as a DJ in glorious Alabama. We hit it off and things progressed quickly.

Several weeks into our new found love affair we got on the subject of celebrity look-alikes. I mentioned that in my college years, I got quite a bit of flack for looking a heck of a lot like Jim Carrey. I'm spoiled and egotistical enough to assume that THIS is why I didn't get a lot more choice dramatic roles in college (it had NOTHING to do with my lack of talent, or course). By the time Alison had come into the picture, I was starting to put on some weight (you can't be a radio personality without consuming McDonald's and Wendy's at least twice a day. It's a law, look it up) and the illusion was fading, thankfully. I have never been a tremendous fan of Mr. Carrey, and although I admire the man for becoming famous by pretending to talk out of his butt, I had hoped that I would achieve fame and fortune without resorting to impersonating the guy. The extra tonnage was helping.

I asked my wife rather innocently if she was told she ever looked like anyone famous. I had posed the question because I was about to remark on the fact that she resembled Olive Oyle, complete with the "OoOoOH!" noises she made when she got flustered. She rolled her eyes and said "Yes! And I was surprised I didn't hear it from you sooner!"

I was all set to say "Aw Popeye!" in a shrill falsetto when she drew her head back and said "I can't believe they forgot my fucking birthday."

I hadn't seen the Molly Ringwald resemblance at ALL until then, but for the past decade I can't watch anything she's in without thinking I am looking at my wife, to a degree. I could do with the red hair, but Alison is a brunette. And I'm sure that if My Lovely Wife™ made as much cash as Ms. Ringwald has on hand, life would be better too. Because the only thing that is important in the world is money, kids. Write that down.

Okay, so when I was enjoying The Salad Days with my significant other, I was content to have a rapidly-fading resemblance to a bombastic physical comic with double joints, and I was more than pleased to be sharing a bed with a woman who looked like a member of The Breakfast Club.

But then "adulthood" stepped in. And by "adulthood" I mean 50 pounds. And by 50 pounds, I mean I have become a big fat bastard.

I'm not HUGE, mind you. But I am definitely not 170 pounds of combustible sex any more, either. Okay, I'm huge. Dammit.

That's the back-story.

Today, for the tenth time, someone has out-of-the-blue stopped me and told me that I remind them of Seth Rogan.

Seth. Rogan. The fat guy from KNOCKED UP. And PINEAPPLE EXPRESS. The huge Jewish guy with curly hair and a big fat chin who is hilarious, I will admit, but who looks NOTHING LIKE ME.

I mean really? Seth Rogan? I don't see the voice, the hair, the mouth, nothing. And yet on TEN SEPARATE FUCKING OCCASIONS I have been told by strangers that I look like him, or I have been asked if I AM him, because why WOULDN'T Seth Rogan be living in Nashville and working as a Graphics Designer who drives a Civic?

I think I preferred being Jim Carrey.

... I think I forgot my point.