Me, meet me. And me, this is me.

Now that it's happened twice, I feel comfortable enough to write about it.  The first time it happened, I was extremely exhausted and thought that I had just found myself mirrored in some sort of paralleled world.  I don't have the right words to explain it...just one of those weird things like deja vu.  But when it happened again and I was fully rested and aware (and there was a witness so any ideas that I might be crazy are unfounded) I realized that it was real. So here it is: there is another me.  At the stoplight on 70th and Pioneers Boulevard on a Sunday afternoon, I was turning left and so was I.  Seriously, my Jeep was facing a Jeep from the opposite direction and there I was, face to face with somebody who looked exactly like me and drives the same vehicle.  The first time also happened at a stoplight, but I was right next to me that time.  This time, Kenny was with me.  As I stared myself in the eyes in complete shock, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Kenny was looking from me to her and back again.  I quietly asked him, so as not to shake the moment up too much, "Is that me?"  Kenny answered back with a near yell, "OH MY GOD SHE LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE YOU!!!!"  He then apologized and said, "I know that people don't like to hear that somebody looks like them."  It's usually true.  Every time I've ever said that somebody looks like somebody else, they take it as a complete insult, like I am the only me, you asshole.  But this was so completely different.  Maybe because I noticed it first.  Or maybe because I wanted to hang out with this girl that looked just like me.  I found that I wanted to know more about her.  How much of me is she?  Is she allergic to Ibuprofen?  Does she like to play Twister when she gets drunk? And where did she get those dangling earrings from, because I used to have some almost exactly like them but I lost one and I miss them.  And then I really started wondering...how many times have other people thought she was me?  Because honestly, people are always telling me that they waved at me and I didn't wave back, or maybe they even honked their horn and jumped up and down.  I've always just written it off as senility because if you've ever met my mother, well, let's just say that the spacey apple doesn't fall far from the dazed tree.  But now I'm thinking that all of those people that have ever waved or honked at me were really just waving or honking at Other Me.  And Other Me probably thinks that you people are all just crazy, constantly causing an uproar and calling her the wrong name.  Poor other me.  Now I feel bad for her.  Or me.  Or...here goes this confusing paralleled world thing again.