When I was in grade school, everyone was flipping their shit about self-esteem. I’m not really sure why, because children are generally the most confident, egocentric bastards in the universe. They’ll talk for like six hours about their favorite color and why their [insert Japanese card game here] cards are more deadly than [insert nerdy kid’s name here]’s, as if they are speaking on a topic of great cosmic significance. And we are concerned they need to behave like this more often.
One of the most popular exercises was to get everyone in a circle and have everyone write candid, one-sentence compliments to everyone in the class – yes, even the kid that stabbed you on the playground and was back on a one-week tour from juvenile detention. It was a pressure-filled task for me to write them at the time, but now I’m kind of glad it happened. Because any time I’m feeling down, I can lift my spirits by reading forced praise from Miss Waters’ third grade class of 1994. Lets get started, shall we?
Is that “good,” or “Godd?” Either way, thank you, Sarah. I can tell you put a lot of thought into this one, because you even had time to draw a couple of stars to illustrate the quality of my performance on the gridiron.
True, I was never blessed with tangible assets like speed or HGH, but in third grade, I was something of a lockdown free safety. Conveniently, it required a minimum amount of actual movement; every QB threw deep down the middle of the field on every single offensive snap. (Running a West Coast offense would have been genius, but it was considered a deeply dishonorable, pansy … even “faggy” undertaking.)
Interestingly enough, this is hardly the only reference to my football prowess in the note bag. I feel pretty confident that if it weren’t for puberty, I’d be fighting off franchise tags right now.
Richard. So very thoughtful of you to box off my name. I hope that we continue to have a strong trade relationship for years to come, but we can only do that if you reconsider your protectionist Pog quotas and stop dumping cheap pencil sharpeners on my market. Also, what the fuck is a “pencail”?
Danielle, you are so hot now. I’m sorry I always tried to sit by Kelly Campbell instead. What was I thinking?! Why did you write “Love” there, instead of “Sincerely”, or “Regards”? Probably just a formality, right?
I don’t feel like you’re setting the bar too high here, Andy.
Cool it, bitch. How are you going to come and write this on my index card? What did I do to you? “Your great at math”??? I hate math!
I do appreciate the two-tone, though. If I unfocus my eyes it basically looks like you wrote “Your great.” Which is lazy — and redundant, given that I ate Frosted Flakes for breakfast — but at least it doesn’t make me feel like George McFly.