uuuhhhh, thank you?

Ah yes, as promised, I am back writing about my discomfort at receiving compliments.  Though I am somewhat better, at least externally, about receiving them, there is a loop track in my head categorizing every single flaw, no matter how small, about what I'm being complimented about.  Up until recently, I would verbalize that loop track to the poor unsuspecting soul who is eyeballing the dwindling spinach rolls hungrily, hoping I'd just shut up, say "Thank you" and let him snatch one before they were all gone.  Ah, gotta love recitals!

Perhaps part of it is that I am somewhat introverted, and more often than not, being around alot of people really drains me.  I could be having a blast, but I have a very low tolerance for small talk, excessive chatter, and please try to not make conversation while I'm eating!  I do understand others' need for excessive talking, or maybe just excessive noise.  Silence can be lonely, and it forces one to make company with the one they're with: him/herself.  And for me, while I haven't quite made friends with myself, I can be content with the constantly running internal commentary, at least for awhile.  I do have to admit a certain love of blasting Bach organ pieces (especially Little Fugue in G minor, although there are so many other wonderful ones), or some other random piece of Baroque or Romantic music (even a few Classical and 20th Century ones since I'm so eclectic).  And the looks I get at times at stop lights are worth the fact that my hearing will never be the same again.

In any case, back to compliments.  Yes, I'll say it!  I have low self-esteem.  I don't think that I'm worthy of them, so I'll make every effort I can to deflect it, to point out the mistakes (and even though I have taken voice lessons since I was 9 and piano since I was 8, I regularly make mistakes), to even question the sanity of the other person, because surely they can't be talking about me!  Somewhat prideful, if you look at it the right way.  Pride says, "No, I'm right, and you're wrong, and I know better than you or anyone else!!"  And what else can I be saying when I start deconstructing my performance at every uttered, "Wow, that was beautiful!"?  "No, not really, it wasn't.  You didn't hear measure 5's trill, obviously.  It was more like my dad trying to do The Worm.  If you were a true music lover, you'd know that, wouldn't you?" 

Wow, a pretty crappy thing to say, eh?  And I have said things like that before (it's been some time, since I haven't performed that much lately, and have only done one solo in some time), and have hurt a few feelings.  And since I hate to hurt feelings, I have learned to bit my lip, nod and smile and just say, "Thank you".  The part of me that loves silence so much (or at least is very attracted and intrigued by it) is very grateful that I've learned this lesson.

So, what have we learned here today?  Don't talk to me while I'm eating, I think that Bach is AWESOME, and my dad should never try to do The Worm again!