I'm So Great: The Rantings of a Jaded Youth

When I grow up, I want to be just like me.

It is physically impossible for me to take a compliment BECAUSE I HAVE NO ARMS. August 14, 2010

Okay, I lied. I do have arms. But my arms are kind of flabby and I’m not that into them (Shut up, Ernie (my bee eff (TRIPLE PARENTHESES))) and I think that’s probably why the statue of Venus doesn’t have any arms. She was like, I WILL NOT HAVE THOSE WINGS ENGRAVED IN STONE FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY! And then she took the Greco-Roman equivalent of a bat to her own statue in feminine rage.

But I was just talking to my new internet friend Shannon (who has not turned out to be an internet predator…yet.) and I pointed out that I have a bad habit of just glossing over compliments and talking really fast about something else because I have no idea how to react to a compliment. It’s like how it took me forever to be able to accept hugs from people. To this day, I feel terrible that when my Marine Biology teacher (who was a completely adorable Persian woman with a fabulous ass and a tie-dyed rainbow labcoat) hugged me, my entire body tensed up to the point that she let go, startled, and asked me if I was okay. Sorry, Ms. Sahlolbei. It’s not that I hated you, it’s just that I got very uncomfortable any time anyone touched me for any reason. In fact, I really liked her. I drew a picture of her because she told the class she knew how to belly dance, but then I didn’t ever want to show her because it was insanely inappropriate and I wasn’t as scared of sexual harassment charges as I am now, but I didn’t want her to think I was weird.


Okay, but I got totally off topic. In addition to not being used to being touched ever and therefore becoming socially inept in the age where everyone hugged each other hello AND goodbye, I also was not at all used to receiving compliments until very recently. My mind goes into a panic any time anyone gives me a compliment. It goes something like this:

Awww, thanks. Should I say something nice back? I HAVE been thinking that her shirt looks awesome all night. Really frames the boobies nicely. Wait, would that be taken the wrong way? Will she think I’m just complimenting her because she complimented me and that I don’t even mean it? Maybe I should wait about a half hour and then tell her shirt looks nice…or maybe like a day. I could text her the compliment after I leave. I DON’T KNOW! Oh god, how long have I been debating this?! Quick! Say something! Anything! Talk about Hugh Jackman!

Stephanie: You know Hugh Jackman can juggle up to 4 balls and has an adopted son named Oscar? I think when Oscar grows up, they’ll be travelling clowns together.

Complimentor: What the hell are you talking about? You know, your hair looks really nice today.

Fuck, another one?! This soon?

Stephanie: Whenever I took my lunch at my last post, I would always forget to take my nametag down and a hundred old ladies and dumb guys would be like, “Heyyyy, you’re not Stephanie!” and I wanted to cut off all my hair and make a wig out of it so that the guys could put it on during my lunch and be all, “What do you mean I’m not Stephanie?!” It’d be awesome! You can get a wig made of your own hair for like, $300. AND AT THIS NEW POST, SOME LADY SAID HER DAUGHTER THOUGHT MY HAIR WAS A WIG AND I WAS ALL, “NOT YET!”

And then my head explodes!

I don’t mean to panic. I really don’t. But I have this thing where it’s hard for me think about my mind and my body as the same person so when someone compliments me, it feels like I should be able to say what I think about it too, but I don’t want to seem narcisstic (even though I totally am) and I also don’t want to seem too critical. THEN I realize that they’re talking about ME and not some random manniquin body and it gets even weirder for me to comprehend.

Anyways, if you say I look nice or am cool (or have in the past) and I go off on a random tangent or tell a ridiculous anecdote about whatever you complimented, this is why.


6 Responses to “It is physically impossible for me to take a compliment BECAUSE I HAVE NO ARMS.”

  1. Brittany, also Great Says:

    Hey, did you know Hugh Jackman has another adopted kid? Her name is Ava. You could bust that one out.

    • Stephanie Says:

      YOU’RE BORED, AREN’T YOU?! Lol, I heard the name Ava in relation to Hugh Jackman but I didn’t realize it was another adopted kid. I realized as I was writing this that all my Hugh Jackman factoids are several years old and I considered reading up on him again. Maybe he can juggle 6 balls by now!

  2. Not to sound like an internet predator or anything, but I’d totally wear your scalp and skin and touch myself in the mirror asking myself “Would you fuck me? I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me SO HARD.”

  3. Hmm it seems like your blog ate my first comment (it was extremely long) so I guess I’ll just sum it up what I wrote and say, I’m thoroughly enjoying your blog. I as well am an aspiring blog blogger but I’m still new to the whole thing. Do you have any recommendations for beginner blog writers? I’d definitely appreciate it.

    • Stephanie Says:

      Oops, I’m sorry about that. I’m usually pretty thorough about reading all the comments my blog things is spam. This post in particular has been receiving a ton of spam so I’ll be thoroughly burned if you’re not a real person, lol. First off, I’m glad you’re enjoying my blog. I’m also kind of new to blogging and I think the method I’ve employed so far is just keep writing. 3 people visited my blog today? Whatever, post another story. I don’t know if it’s the most successful way to run a blog, but at least it’s fun for me. I’ve probably got the longest blog never read. What’s your blog’s address?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s