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My Doppleganger Julie Gerstenblatt Must Be Stopped

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According to folklore, everybody’s got a doppleganger running around somewhere in the world. A doppleganger, depending on how you choose to interpret it, is either your exact twin, or your exact opposite — your alter ego. Oh, let’s just go to the Wikipedia definition:

In fiction and folklore, a doppelgänger is a paranormal double of a living person, typically representing evil or misfortune. In modern vernacular, the word has come to refer to any double or look-alike of a person.

The word also is used to describe the sensation of having glimpsed oneself in peripheral vision, in a position where there is no chance that it could have been a reflection. Doppelgängers often are perceived as a sinister form of bilocation and are regarded by some to be harbingers of bad luck. In some traditions, a doppelgänger seen by a person’s friends or relatives portends illness or danger, while seeing one’s own doppelgänger is an omen of death.

The you that is not you but yet exactly you. Also, death? GREAT. And in Huffington Post comedy writer Julie Gerstenblatt I believe I’ve found that person.

First off, there’s the name. Julie Gerstenblatt. Since there’s hardly any Gersteins in the world, I’d say Gerstenblatt is about as close as a dopplename as I’ll ever find. (Though, okay, there is a 46-year-old Julie Gerstein in Florida with a criminal record I found once, too) Then, there’s the fact that Gerstenblatt is also a writer.

Here’s a couple of lines from her Twitter:

Just got Pinkberry salted caramel all over my car. Important lesson, people: Don’t Pink and Drive! #Pinkberry … …and also b/c I drive around the ‘burbs singing along with Michael Buble in my SUV. Proving 41 rocks!

And here she is writing about why her scarf is more important than her husband:

I’m like a magician with my scarves: one minute there is one around my neck and the next, poof! It has disappeared into the depths of my pocketbook. But then I may notice that a movie theater is a bit chilly, or that the table we have been seated at in a restaurant is located directly under a drafty vent. Poof! Scarf magically appears again.Keep your husband wrapped tightly around your finger and a scarf wrapped jauntily around your neck at all times.

Gerstenblatt, I am on to you. I am coming for you. We might have to battle this one out. You can choose your own weapon — which will be scarves, obviously.

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