"...in bed."

My fortune cookie from this weekend's Chinese food/tequila binge gave me a totally shallow compliment.  Like any good woman, I ate it up.  I know I'm a smart cookie (pun half-heartedly intended, it IS Monday) and enjoy compliments about my intellect, humor and wit, but let's face it - sometimes you want some cookie to come along and tell you you're pretty and popular and lots of people like you.

I don't take compliments like a normal person because I vacillate between bracingly self-deprecating and off-puttingly confident.  Even in my mid-twenties, I'm still trying to strike the right balance between humility and self-assurance when someone says something sweet to me. 

Once, a gorgeous man told me I needed more self-esteem and I told him just because I didn't reply to every compliment with "I know, right?!  I really am hot!" didn't mean that I didn't believe it.

Do I think I'm pretty?  Yes.

Am I still going to be visibly uncomfortable and blush like a dweeb when someone tells me?  Yes.

Unless it's a cookie.

- Smashy