Thera-PLEASE

My therapist asked me to list five good things about myself. I came up with three, and two were things a friend had told me recently, so the therapist said they only count as one.

Now I have to think of other nice things, because I don’t want to be a person who can’t say nice things about themselves.

Fine. FINE! 🙄

(I’m not asking for compliments, BTW. Apparently I have to choose them myself, because I’m, like…supposed to actually BELIEVE them? I know, right? It’s absurd. Don’t ever go to therapy. It’s dumb, they want you to…ugh, LIKE yourself, and not just lazily write yourself off as “broken.” Pfft. Gross.)

Greetings from my blurry penis!

Got this first message on OkCupid today:

My job is actually listed in my profile, but… You know, dude’s clearly busy flexing and blurring his penis. I can’t also expect him to read. Ain’t no blood in that brain.

I’m also, like…99% sure this is fake.

But hey, I’m sexy, hot, beautiful, AND pretty — I think he hit all four perfunctory tryna-get-laid compliment food groups there!

Friends/Fluffers

I’ve been discussing career goals with a friend, because I’ve been feeling totally stuck in what I’m doing, and I feel seven kinds of shitty** about it, just allllll the self-doubt/loathing, staring down the barrel of a TON of work and thought to figure out what my next move should be, because I have no idea. 
Friend’s response:

“I have always thought someone should pay you lots of money just to be you and write what you already write. I don’t know exactly who that should be — Cracked, Bustle, Jezebel, The Mary Sue, various advertisers for your personal blog? — but I very much want it to happen. I know you do too, I just thought you should know that I read a LOT online and I would read all your stuff even if I didn’t know you. Just saying.”

Awwwww! You guys! ❤

I mentioned this predicament to another friend, and SHE complimented my writing, too!

“I know you’re not fishing for compliments, but I LOVE reading you. Anything you write is super smart, quick, and has so much relatable stuff with large dose of humor and humility. You seem like you have a treasure of stories you could write about family, men, and relationships. WRITE!!! For me.”

I was not fishing (nor am I now), but DAMN, I should’ve done this YEARS ago! Ego. Boosted. My friends are like my self-esteem fluffers!

** There actually does exist a chart ranking the seven kinds of shit. The reason I know this is not as disgusting as you might think, but, I mean, possessing that knowledge is really never IDEAL… I’m going to stop talking now.

You’re not even a good fragrance of douche.

A few months ago I posted about a man from a neighboring office in my building. I pass him in the hall sometimes and we exchange workplace pleasantries. That day, though, he asked if I’d been dieting, because I looked “really good” and “like I’d lost weight.”

I’ve seen him a few times since, and we were back to, “Good morning, how are you?”

But I just saw him again and he said, “That’s a REALLY nice dress, it looks great on you!” And elevator-eyed me.

Dude, did you skip an HR seminar or something? The last time anyone looked at me like that at work, he and I were screwing around in office closets.

I feel like a hypocrite, too, because I wouldn’t have minded the compliment on my dress coming from a man I was attracted to, or even a man I knew. The phrasing of his weight loss/diet comment was unacceptable from anyone, though — was I previously too much of a heifer to look good?

*sigh* I need another shower.

BRB, gotta go dance on a car…

Without thinking, I just said “thank you” to a coworker who’d commented: “Wow, your hair’s getting really long.”

Erm…not a compliment. She didn’t say it looked GOOD, just that there’s a lot of it. She could’ve meant, like, “Ooh, girl, you got a li’l Kitaen about you. You should tend to that shit.”

 

I’m basically Kanye right now.

In the past week I’ve been told I have a “nice writing style” and also a “good voice,” the former for professional writing and the latter for this blog.

Pfft. Even the Stray Cats don’t strut like me today.

The peacocks at the zoo WISH they could step to my preening.

#FilthyComplimentWhore

Sincere flattery is the sincerest form of flattery.

I can’t speak for all women, but I personally have never objected to a random midday text that simply says, “Hi. You’re pretty.”

For me, it does get a bit old (and verge on insincere) when it happens TOO often, particularly when the guy isn’t bright enough to think of words other than “pretty.”

But for the moment, squee.

Aw! You like me? That’s awesome.

It’s been a good week for compliments from friends here at Smug Singleton HQ.

1. “You without vulgarity is like a street without asphalt.”

2. “I can’t imagine you really even being friends with someone who doesn’t have a razor-sharp wit and delightfully dark sense of humor.”

Thanks, y’all. Much appreciated.