and the doppelganger saga continues.

remember when i posted about my intellectual elitist tendencies (regarding the word doppelganger)? and then you all made me feel much better because you knew the meaning of the word--along with others that i had to then go look up?

well, the saga continues.

the word has served as the catalyst for a sort of treasure hunt within my family. we look to find the word written, spoken aloud, published--anything, and then we attempt to use it ourselves--to casually drop it into conversation.

the first night my parents were here, we were sitting around (my largest nyc bedroom to date) drinking champagne out of my brand-new-violet-colored flutes when my father relayed a story he had seen on oprah (this is confusing to me since my father doesn't usually catch a 4:00 showing of the reigning queen of day-time). but, for whatever reason, he saw an episode in which a former play-boy model (god is in the details) suffered from sex addiction (details), but only went for guys who were the (wait for it) dope-layngers of her father.

what? you say.

dope-layngers?

i had the same thought too.

and then the brain mushed it around, processed, and the revelation came out as good solid-week of laughter.

my dad was trying to say doppelganger. he did not. he said dope-laynger. and my father is an intelligent man.

so now the question (and thus the quest) is: do you know what it means? do others know what it means? and can you say it correctly?

the picture?

you can actually buy one

of these little guys at

urban outfitters. they're

called doppelgangers.

said co-worker in

the initial post got me one.

it sits on my desk as

an omen of good-tidings (though

doppelgangers are thought to be

bad signs, i decided i would turn

this idea upside-down.)