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Thatcoolbroad
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I'm just a regular gal striving to become "that cool broad." Am I on the right track? Or am I certifiable? You be the judge....
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A Cool Broad doesn't say she's fat when she's clearly a skinny bitch

Monday, June, 23, 2008

Who remembers that girl in high school who, despite being absolutely beautiful, would complain about her bad skin (it was flawless) or her big butt (it was perfectly shaped) or her misbehavin’ hair (ok, she was a model). I do…but now she’s all grown up and much to my dismay, lives right next door.

And now that she’s all grown up, she’s got grown up things to complain about. She complains that she spends too much money on books for her kid because he's so smart that he blows through them at lightening speed. She complains that her husband works too much because he just got some major promotion and now runs the world. And she complains that it’s close to impossible to fit three car seats side by side in her new Mercedes SUV (poor baby).

But here’s the thing…she ain’t complaining. She’s boasting, albeit in a sly, undercover sort of way. She thinks that by making some barely self-deprecating comments, she’ll appear humble and not braggy - but it ain’t working. And it ain’t cool.

Cool Broads never boast and they never "pseudo-complain". There are ways to share exciting news with your BEST friends that won’t make you appear like a braggart, but to broadcast your successes ad nauseam is bad form and will only make others feel at best - envious and at worst - inadequate. And what’s the point in that?

Pseudo-complaining isn’t any better and it may even be worse because the reason you’re pseudo-complaining is because you know deep down that bragging is tacky, but you just can’t help yourself so you sneak it in the back door.

The thing is, if in fact your kid is brilliant your husband is super successful…that’s great. Really! You SHOULD be proud. Enjoy your successes in life and celebrate those accomplishments. But to be cool, you’ve got to play it cool.

But if your kid is really having behavioral problems in school and your husband just got demoted instead of promoted, but you boast as a way of spinning the situation because it makes you feel better about yourself - there’s no need. Nobody’s perfect. We’re all human and we all have our own issues to deal with. Maybe if you consider your life an adventure - complete with peaks and valleys - you won’t get so caught up in how it appears to others.

And if you find yourself in a conversation with someone who can’t stop yammering about how great her life is, or how fat she is (when she’s clearly not)…smile, nod, and look for someone more interesting (and genuine) to talk to.

~tcb
www.thatcoolbroad.com
ClaudineMJ
ClaudineMJ
Posted Mon, 06/23/2008 - 11:37
I hate these kinds of people--and there are so many. I frequently run into one mom at events. She doesn't seem to notice that I have my head buried DEEP in a book. Whatever. She told me the first time I met her, in the preschool parking lot, 5 minutes after we noticed that we were parked near each other, that her husband was in MENSA. Oh really? What's he do? Oh... he's a county cop driving up and down the highway passing out speeding tickets. She told me how desperate she was to have her basement redone. She told me that she instructed her MENSA husband that he would HAVE to get another big screen High Def Plasma TV with playstation cube Wii for the kids. They are just making a total mess of her leather and velvet ensconced living room.
psansour
psansour
Posted Tue, 06/24/2008 - 05:23
Loved this! First of all, being a human emotional sponge, I soak in every bit of negative anyone throws out there. I try to steer clear of bitchers and whiners. Better for my psyche. These types of people are up there with the (and everybody knows 'em) assholes that turn every happy or sad situation that you are experiencing into something about them. They always have a bigger fish, or more dying from bigger diseases. It's too much. I actually used to listen to it...which amazes me, because now it gives me great joy to roll my eyes in front of their faces and ask that I be allowed to continue with my story. Is that rude? Oh well. Whatevah!