You need mental espresso even if you are this person who acts like invincible 24-7. You feel plenty silly or minging and unattractive time to time, no matter what. You can't help that coz you are livin'.
Ego boosts can be a bit sad things from outside, but these soddin' things could certainly make your day, because our lives are basically the clusters of ordinary things.
My ego boosts, the few of them I remember were;
I was in Paris, escorting my folks through metro. My mum was never keen on Paris scene (how could she NOT???) and she kept bitching how rough the drivers drive metros in Paris.
"Could they NOT brake a little smoothly???"
was what she was yelling as we held onto nearest tag or whatever hanging from the ceiling. I love Paris, period. I love everything about everything and nothing can ruin the enjoyment of it, except for my mum. I felt so grim and fat and unattractive (as the first thing mum said to me at LHR arrival gate was, "God, you put on so much weight!!")
The metro just slipped into underground. It was fairly busy in the carriage and we were surrounded by French speaking people, rather than tourists.
This gypsy looking lady with bright orange hair managed to sit herself in front of me, and she was giving me the eyes. I wasn't sure what she wanted. She was in mid 40s to early 50s, and looked distinctive with her fashion style. How these Parisian carry themselves with such interesting tastes in fashion and manages to look so impeccably stylish? I felt even more unattractive by standing in front of her and have decided not to meet her eyes.
"Excuse me,"
she was already saying to me anyway, with heavy French accent.
"...yes?"
I answered with maximum effort to smile.
"Where did you get that?"
she said, pointing my green top, which I thought was too small on my fat torso.
"I got it in USA. It was from a charity shop."
"Oh? That's too far away for me, but it is very nice."
She smiled approvingly. A real Parisianne told me that she loves my top.
That tops. Hey, that's like when I went to Summer Ball and Kevin Myers came up and told me,
"Di, well done, you look fantastic!!"
and I felt absolutely marvellous. Even though I never dress to look nice for other people (I do dress not to offend other people, though,) it is still nice to receive real compliments.
On my birthday last year, I was SO miserable as I was totally alone and nobody remembered my birthday. I was also so tired from work yet had to go late night shopping because my fridge was empty. So I hopped onto my beloved Herald and went to Lower Early. It was like 10pm and the shop was quieting down. I hid behind the blast of music from my CD player, trying not to notice all the other people shopping in pairs etc. When I got to the till, I was quite blue, looking at the booze and food I am going to consume all by myself for next few weeks.
I put everything on the belt conveyer and put cans of beer at the end of all. The cashier was this young looking skinny lass with a sad and tired expression making perfect match to my mood. She grabbed my shopping awkwardly, and I put them into plastic bags, one by one.
Then she saw the ridiculous amount of beer cans, pulled her face with suspicion and hesitation.
"umm... do you have an ID on ya?"
I cracked. I laughed so hard, not loud, but hard, and almost cried. This girl was dead serious! And I had to apologize to her that I wasn't laughing at her, but she certainly made my day. I wanted to fucking thank her. I wanted to fucking hug her. All my blues was gone for that instance.
Yeah, I know they sound sad, but, hey, I am a simple being with a massive complication.
