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"When I strap on my boots and I slip on my suit you see the vixen in me becomes an angel for you"*

Posted by Katie L. Carroll on November 9, 2008 in Anecdote, Family, Sports |

Sometimes I think I have a secret identity. Really it’s more like an alter ego…or maybe it’s just a split-personality disorder (just kidding…such disorders are nothing to joke about). It all started the summer I turned 18—it’s all downhill after 18! I was watching the Bridgeport Bluefish (What? You’ve never heard of them…I bet you know who the New York Yankees are) play baseball, and I noticed I was having trouble reading the scoreboard.

Seeing as I was about to start college—and I was contributing a lot of my own money to pay for my higher education—I figured I’d better make the dreaded trip to the eye doctor (I really do dread all trips to the doctor, except the dentist, for some reason I like visiting the dentist). As I suspected, I needed glasses. Great, now I had a giant visual on my face, my previously secret nerdiness exposed.

As I got used to being a person with glasses (I know, you’re thinking four-eyes), I realized the potential of it. This potential was fully realized when I became a part-time contacts wearer. With my glasses, I feel smart, like a real intellectual, like the writer me. Glasses me is an avid reader who enjoys sweet white wines and listens to NPR in the morning. With my contacts, I feel strong, like a warrior, like the soccer player me. Contacts me is an avid sports fan who yells expletives at the television and runs marathons in Alaska. (Without glasses or contacts, I’m just visually impaired me!)

Though, maybe I should’ve realized long ago that I had a secret identity. When my siblings and I were younger, my parents would often separate us into two group. My mom would say, “The three older ones go with Dad, and the three younger ones come with me.” The problem was there was only five of us and, yes, you guessed it, I was child number three, smack dab in the middle. That’s the problem with being in the middle; you never quite know where you fit in. So I made do with both roles: I tattled on my older siblings and bossed around my younger ones.

This identity crisis only got worse when I got married. I decided to legally change my last name to my husband’s and to keep my maiden name for writing and other pursuits (like soccer) in which everyone already knew me by my maiden name. Not only has this caused confusion for me, but it also seems to have stymied the Connecticut Registrar of Voters.

Last week, I went to my old high school gymnasium to vote. I found my street name (which of course was split into two tables, so I had to think about whether or not my house number was higher or lower than 40) and gave the lady on the left my license. The lady on the right slid her ruler up the line of names until she reached mine…only she appeared to be confused. I glanced at the list. There was my husband’s name, my name, and my name again.

“Wait,” the lady on the right said. “Which one are you?” (How many ladies does it take to check-in a voter?) I wanted to say, “Didn’t you listen to the other lady, who just read the correct name off my license?” Instead, I simply explained that one was my married name and one was my maiden name and somehow both ended up on the list. Apparently the government has trouble with the multitude of women who change their names upon marrying.

I should refer to all my life stories as “The Adventures of —” (I’ll fill in the blank when I figure out who I really am). Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror when I’m not wearing my glasses and think Oh! That’s the face I know. Not that stranger with the glasses. Then again, I tend to wear my glasses more frequently than my contacts. Which is my real identity and which is my alter ego? Maybe it’s better if I don’t know.

*Christina Aguilera

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5 Comments

  • Anonymous says:

    Re your recollection from childhood, “My mom would say, “The three older ones go with Dad, and the three younger ones come with me.” … I have this comment — I don’t remember that ever happening — at least not to my ears’ hearing. Now, either you are imagining this, or it was said minus the “Dad” in the equation … or, it’s a full moon right now … I could go either way ….

  • your favorite sis says:

    Perhaps the lyrics of the new Christina Aguilera single would be just as apropos for this particular blog. You know the ones I’m talking about…”Some days I’m a super b**ch, up to my old tricks, but it won’t last forever. Next day I’m a super girl, out to save the world and it keeps getting better”.

    Come on…I know there are a few readers out there who won’t be afraid to agree wholeheartedly with me!!!

    I just hope the intellectual, mellow (cuz that’s what a few glasses of wine will do to you), book (maybe tree)loving KT is the one to read this comment!

  • KT says:

    Thanks for the comments! I like to know that at least someone is reading my blog; though I maintain that I really blog for myself and not for anyone else.

    To Anonymous (you trouble-maker!):

    Well, that’s the thing about memory; it can be fickle and selective (just like my dad’s hearing!). I stand by my memory…just ask my husband how many times it’s proved him wrong!!! 😉

    To my favorite sister (hmmm…I thought my favorite sister would have trouble posting from where she is now…so it must be my other favorite sister posting!):

    I did think about putting up that particular lyric, and you may notice the one I did choose is actually from that song as well! I decided I didn’t want a swearword or ** in the post title, so I went with a more subtle title. I figured anyone who knew the song might think of the super b**ch lyric on their own…good catch!

  • Anonymous says:

    … whoa, whoa!! … cheap shot re: “my favorite sister would have trouble posting from where she is now” … what? no Internet service in Heaven? … do you really know that?

  • KT says:

    Anonymous discussing cheap shots; those who dish it should be able to take it!

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