Foxy!

Yesterday, I went to a new client site. One guy's office that I entered was filled to the brim. Boxes on the floor with parts, cords, papers. Racks and racks of WIP that were rolled in from the production floor. It was difficult to make a path through the wreckage just to sit at his desk.

Me: Wow, I really like what you've done with this place.

Him: Well, if I knew what a fox you were, I would have picked up a bit.

Two thoughts: 1) I love you. Really. What a nice compliment from a total stranger (albeit strangely unprofessional). It really pays to have clients out in the boondocks where I still pass as foxy. 2) A fox? Who the heck says that?! OMG. I just met with Garth!

Gabba Gabba Sleigh

I’ve recently decided to take a deep breath when someone compliments me and ingest it. It’s been a rocky start but I dooooo believe it’s worth the effort.

Usually, when I get a compliment from a client, of course I say “Thank you” but I shallowly then think to myself, “Uh, that’s what you paid me to do.” Conversely, if I think I performed poorly on something (or at least could have done a better job preparing, presenting, listening, responding, etc.), I berate myself for hours, days, months, years: whatever it takes to feel really, really awful about myself.

But why do I, and others like me, allow ourselves to wallow in self-loathing over an overblown perception yet brush aside callously any real appreciation?

I need to put an end to this. Stuart Smalley here I come.

With that said, my favorite compliment over this past week of taking stock/giving thanks came from my coworker, Jenn. For an upcoming Christmas party at a not-for-profit agency for which I volunteer, each Board member was asked to come with a small “you-nique” gag gift that really reflects his/her personality. Huh?

I was at a complete loss for what I should bring. I don’t collect anything (but dust bunnies), have any hobbies, or really connect/associate myself with any one thing, etc. So I asked Jenn what she thought defined me with the hope of a gift-inspired idea. She thought for a few seconds and responded with a go-go dance move, “I kind of see you as a hippy chick. Like Goldie Hawn popping up on Laugh-In but with some punk rock thrown in.”

Love that! Love that! Love that! Problem solved.



Merry Christmas (I don't want to fight tonight).

Bad Day: #5

One of my clients intentionally uses sex appeal as a tool to bring in new business. As a result, she is always getting hit on and combating "unwanted" advances. My boss and I were talking about her unconventional tactics and how, conversely, we're never hit on -- which, clearly, is a good thing.

Then I remembered a nightmare of an afternoon that happened a few years ago. I was working at a client site when the short, chubby, red headed, white eyelash/eyebrowed (and married with children) VP of Sales said to me, "The guys and I were out drinking last night and we all agree, you're a MILF."

I stupidly didn't know the term at the time so I asked, "What's a MILF?"

He responded by whispering "A mother I would love to . . . " and mouthing the last word.

I could have crawled under a rug. Instead, I said, "Sheesh, wait till I tell my husband that one!" Then I bolted back to my office in their facility and sat with my hands on my keyboard completely unable to type. I'm not sure if I've ever turned brick red but I was mortified enough that it felt like my face was burning.

He came in a minute later and apologized.

When I got home that night, the hubby was unfazed. "He meant it as a compliment." As much as I understood that logically, it felt ridiculously unprofessional (to say the least). With a few years between me and that incident, I now agree that I was overreacting. I never want a client to say anything like that to me again but worse things can happen in life.

A few months ago I went out to dinner with a friend who, at the time, was dating a 50 year old woman who has grandchildren. He said to me, "At what point did I stop dating MILFs and move on to GILFs?"

I guess that's the silver lining: at least I'm not a GILF. But, when I do hit the golden age of GILF, I'm guessing it's better to be a GILF than not . . .

Compliments!

A friend from high school told me over the weekend that he likes to keep in touch with me because I'm such a positive, encouraging influence in his life. I thought that was a really, really kind thing to say.

And then came another stupendous accolade from the girl with the purple hair behind the counter at Burger King, "Dude, way to rock that Yu-Gi-Oh! hat."

Why thank you!

Self-Esteem

When I first started dating my husband, he asked me to go with him to his friend Mary's wedding. I was so excited. I bought a new dress, necklace and shoes. All 98 lbs. of me were looking good.

When he came to pick me up, he somehow forgot to mention how stunningly beautiful I looked so I tried to force it out of him.

Me: "So, what does it feel like to be dating the best looking girl in town?"

Hubby: "Who told you?!"