Promise Yourself

This poem was read to me last night. Is it a little fluffy and too inspirational? Perhaps. Did I need to hear this words? Yes. Yes, I did.

Promise Yourself

Promise yourself to be strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.

To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person you meet.

To make all your friends feel that there is something in them.

To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.

To think only the best, to work only for the best and expect only the best.

To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.

To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.

To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile.

To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others.

To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

- Christian Larson

Neither Swell Nor Great

"We do not deal much in facts when we are contemplating ourselves."  ~Mark Twain

A few years ago I was invited to a party thrown for/by Nate Berkus. The party was intended for design and lifestyle bloggers and I happened to be on that list. *Shrug* When I told friends, family and Oprah devotees that I would be breathing the same air as Nate Berkus they asked if they could stowaway in my suitcase. The second question was “Um...you?”. The day of the party I went with a group of women and while their my friend Liz was ready to talk to Nate so she has me go up their with him and she tells him that she’s Liz Gumbinner and amazing and owner of a super successful business and I’m standing there thinking, HOW DID I GET INVITED TO THIS?! I AM NOT ALL THAT. And she says, “This is Heather. Heather is great...” and begins to list off all of the things that I am good at that have nothing to do with being a design blogger superstar. And in that moment I wanted nothing more than to hug the snot out of her.

***

I bring this up not to be all, “You like me! You really like me!” but because, and I imagine this is the same for many people, I think I’m pretty average. I’m nothing special. I have no extraordinary talents. In fact, on average, I think very little of myself. I often dwell on how much better/successful/talented/more aware of how to use a comma than actually telling myself or others that I am ‘kind, smart and important’ (shout out to Abilene!). I probably need a good therapist rather than word vomit on the Internet but there that is: I have an issue with telling people that I am good at something. I also cannot accept a compliment.

In hindsight people always tell me what I should have said to people that is complimentary to me and my work both in real life and online but I almost always - actually, I did this earlier today - say that I don’t want to be prideful or boisterous or that being mentioned in the Wall Street Journal isn’t that big of a deal.

So what do I do? I need help in the self esteem department but I have no clue where to start.

Hungry

Have I mentioned that I work with my mother? Surely I must have by now. It goes something like this:

Me: “I just wanted to ask you about that letter for the Important Work Thing”
Her: “Why does your hair look like that? Your dress is too short. I’m not really sure about those earrings.”
Me: “.....work?”

And scene.

Today I stopped by to ask her about some innocuous work thing to which she replied “Nice boots. Showing a little skin, eh?” And then I sighed deeply and remained slightly thankful for the coworkers who didn’t comment on how a dress and accessories accent my ass, hips, thighs or face. Then, in total non sequitur fashion, (it’s genetic), she asked me about The Hunger Games and whether or not I’d gone to see the movie. And then I had one of those moments where my eyes get all big-as-saucers and shouted “YOU’VE READ THE BOOKS?!” Because, you see, I have yet to read The Hunger Games.

I remember when Mockingjay came out and Twitter was all aflutter with its release and tales of women leaving a plate of eggs and a bowl of water out for their children while they devoured the book. I never got into Twilight and just yesterday watched New Moon for the first time ever and I had to save my fury for Katherine Sockett and her whole Southern Mamie-esque bullshit, like, a month ago. But! I can tell you what happened between Cynthia and Kim on the Real Housewives of Atlanta and that today the Supreme Court is going to start hearing arguments on portions of the Affordable Care Act and hoo boy! That individual mandate is on its last legs.

But no. I have never read the Hunger Games and in honor of the movie coming out I did purchase the trilogy so I can talk about something at parties. Should I ever be invited to one.

Anyway, here is Peg’s review; succinct and to the point: “It made me nauseous. I would never see it again. And! There were people there with little kids...seven years old. And there were kids being killed” (that’s the point where I was like what the fuck is this book about because why are children being killed?!) “Yeah. Nauseous.” And then she shuddered.

The end.

Please tell me that I am not the last person on the planet to read these books. Did you see the movie? Will I throw up?