I love you, but girl, never make the mistake of thinking you are unique. After all, a name is just a name. And an email address? That’s only barely yours at all. Let me tell you, I got another of those emails tonight: “Confirm your Twitter account, Amanda Potts. It’s easy — just click the button below.”
Don’t worry: I get this message about once a month and I never click the button…but I’ll tell you what, I think Amanda’s trying to get pregnant. I know she lives in Arizona and I live in Ottawa, but there are some obvious signs. I mean, first of all, let’s talk about the BabyCenter emails. They’re all about when to have sex and how to prepare your body for pregnancy. By the time I got on BabyCenter, I jumped straight to the “your baby is now the size of a insert small fruit or vegetable here” emails, so I’m guessing she’s still trying – but she could absolutely be pregnant even as I type. Shh – if I find out, I won’t tell anyone.
I *will* share a secret with you, though: I can’t tell anyone who knows her because I’ve never met her. You see, there are these other Amanda Pottses out there and they keep accidentally using my email address.
Which means that I know that Amanda Potts is probably on her way to Portugal by now. Her “Ocean and Yoga Leadership Retreat” sounded great when I found out about it last month. I bet that the hosts, Fernando and Eva, are lovely, and I kind of want to meet Max, the surfing instructor. It’s really too bad that I have to, you know, work and watch my children in Ottawa during that scheduled retreat – I would love to go. And I missed out on those Sandals retreat points last year, too. Such a shame.
Still, I can’t say I’m sorry I missed the “Bare-assed Silverado Stay” a few years ago, back when she was trying to make a go of things as an actress. I kind of admired her daring, but I’m just too old for that kind of thing anymore. Apparently Amanda lost her underwear? Possibly in at a ranch somewhere? Though she was definitely living in California at the time and, really, it’s not like her to vacation where she lives. Anyway, according to her therapist, who believes all things happen for a reason and suggested that perhaps I should be part of her on-line therapy group… but wait, that’s private. Well, sort of. I mean, she accidentally emailed me instead of, well, Amanda.
Now, I’m pretty sure that Midwest Amanda Potts, who has registered for several conferences that sound so incredibly dull that I can only assume that she is going for work, would be horrified if she knew everything I know about her. Because, I think we can all say it’s obvious that she’s a somewhat private person. And possibly she’s a workaholic? Odds are increasing with every passing email. Perhaps when I finally figure out her actual email address I should put her in touch with Arizona Amanda? Because I’m pretty sure that Surf and Yoga Amanda is just a *little* too wild for midwestern Amanda. Not that I would know. But those emails give me more than an inkling.
I do worry a little. I mean, maybe it’s the name? Maybe there’s a secret truth about Amanda Potts that means that I, too, give oodles of people the wrong email address on a regular basis. Maybe there are emails meant for me that are actually somewhere in cyberspace randomly arriving in another Amanda Potts’s inbox.
I assure myself: this is not possible. I’m the one with the good email address. Too bad for those other Amanda Pottses that I am older and was the first to jump on the email thing all those years ago. Age has its privileges. They’ll just have to deal with my email superiority – or, well, I guess I just have to deal with all of their email.
For now, I’ll just keep forwarding the messages to the Amandas I’ve found and looking for the ones I haven’t – and I’ll consider the trove of absolutely crazy messages I’ve received as fair payment. Oh, and I’ve got to go find the Amanda Potts who’s publishing on Academia.com. I would love to share my email with her.
Slice of Life, Day 18, March 2018
Thanks to Two Writing Teachers for this wonderful month of inspiration.