The Narcissist Ponders

29 03 2013

Every day, when somebody tells me I’m pretty I go through an array of emotions. First, obviously, I am flattered. But then I gauge how attractive the person telling me is. Usually, pretty people don’t tell other pretty people that they are also pretty because, well, they know that you know, or something like that. Maybe it’s just an unsaid thing. Anyway, but if the person giving the compliment is very unattractive, is it really a huge compliment? I feel like it devalues the observation. Now, if someone really hot says it, then I feel it holds more weight. So then I get upset wondering if this person is just going around town telling people they are pretty, willy nilly. That is so rude. Who is this stranger trying to make me feel so insecure? The gall of some people. Le sigh. I say thank you anyway. I’m not going to let them ruin my day.

The Narcissist gets a haircut

27 03 2013

Lucie tells me I have beautiful hair. I tell her I make sure I let everyone know it is her that cuts it. She insists it is not the cut but that I simply have beautiful hair. She’s right. The thickness, the length. I wish I didn’t have to get it cut but my split ends are atrocious. I do not like going to the salon though. I never look as good as I look at home in my own mirrors. She tells me I am not the only one. That some people ask to face the other direction to not see their reflections. I don’t think I look that terrible but it was comforting to know those mirrors and lighting are crappy and it’s not me. I was worried for a second.
She asks me how long I plan to grow it out. Mm, I want it really long. I would like to do this before I am too old to carry the look off, I say. Lucie says this is nonsense and she doesn’t like hearing people say such things. She says as long as it is healthy. I tell her I have a friend; she’s not really a friend, just a girl I admire. Admire in that way that you want to consume a person. To be me but in her shell of a perfect body of youth and features and clothes. The kind of clothes that fit right of the hanger without the wonder or try ons. Anyway, my friend, this girl, she has hair down to her waist. That is how long I’d like to grow it. Lucie supports this. I tell her I wouldn’t even have to straighten it. The weight would pull my natural curls down to nice waves. Lucie is excited and nods in agreement. She finishes up. I wrap my damp hair in a bun. Lucie doesn’t style my hair. It takes too long. It is too thick. Besides, I do a better job.
The next day I let my hair down. Everyone I see tells me how beautiful I look. I say thank you sheepishly and to anyone that knows Lucie, I make sure to tell them she is the one that cuts it. Even one of the managers I don’t get along with said I am very pretty but terrible inside. His English isn’t the greatest so I am not really sure what he was trying to say.