Googling one's name can be hazardous

Oh my goodness. This is what studying too much will do to me. As a fun break, I decided to do an image search on google for my name. I have a VERY common name, so I wanted to see who else has it, and what they look like. So I type "Emily Miller" (not my real name, but mine is about as dull,) into google and come up with this completely and totally adorable picture. No, seriously, look at how adorable this child is. So precious it kind of makes you want to steal the image and place it on your blogger profile because it is so much cuter than any pictures that you actually have of yourself, because maybe then people will think that you were a charming and darling child and thus you must be a charming and gorgeous adult. Posting an actual picture of myself at this age would not accomplish this. Most pictures of me at this age feature (a) a grape juice mustache, (b) crazy fly-away hair that caused my mom to repeat "Emily Miller you go upstairs and brush your hair right this minute" ad infinitum, and (c) unflattering fashions (this was the eighties, after all.) I don't have a single picture of me from this age with perfect ringlets, a jumper, and bangs so cute you could just eat them for dinner. Bangs on my curly hair are, in general a bad idea. Really bad. No, seriously. Fine, see for yourself: Don't say you weren't warned. Anyway, I click on this adorable, adorable munchkin's picture and am transferred to the bio of a lovely woman named Emily Miller whose life passion is (wait for it).....collecting fountain pens. Okay, that's a weird hobby, but as I keep reading, I learn that she went back to law school after a career in P.R., and worked as the executive director of a non-profit that helped advocate for stronger legal protections for foster children in Seattle. Holy crap! She's got my name AND my perfect job! John and I are dying to move to the pacific northwest, and I would love to do legal work on behalf of kids (former teacher and blah blah blah) and I have just decided that I must email this woman to tell the funny story of how I found her picture because we have the same name and I was bored and googled us and how cool that she is a lawyer and I am a lawyer in training and hey, maybe she wants to help me get a job and we can go for coffee and she can be my mentor and we can make t-shirts talking about how cool it is to be named Emily Miller when I get to this part: On August 9, 2002, Emily lost her life while pursuing her passion of pen collecting. During her first visit to the nation's capital and to the Washington, DC Pen Show, Emily was mugged and shot to death. By all accounts, on August 9th, the world lost a beautiful soul, and Emily's pen collector family lost a wonderful friend. You cannot make this shit up. Either pen collecting is a seriously hazardous hobby, or being named Emily Miller is. I am totally freaked out now.