As a kid, some people dream about being an astronaut or doctor or rock singer, I dreamed about being a supermodel. I think this idea stemmed from my initial aspiration to be a dancer on Solid Gold. Eh, I was young.

But seriously, I wanted to be a supermodel like Cindy Crawford or Claudia Schiffer. I wanted that long, gorgeously curled, fluffed and blown out hair. Clothes dripping from my closet and chairs with diamonds and jewelry all around me. Yeah I was a dreamer. I won’t even go into the dreams of exotic travel, being catered to at my every whim.

I wasn’t in pagaents or out actively trying to pursue this dream (instead thinking it happened like in the movies, where I’m standing at a skee-ball machine at Chuck E Cheese and a guy tells me how gorgeous I am and if I’ve ever modeled), but I have had two wannabe supermodel moments and both were epic FAILs.

Fail #1

In  high school, I worked for Wilson’s Leather and we had to outfit women for a mid-level fashion show downtown. We helped them get dressed, provided looks and brought clothing for them to wear down the runway. It was fun! The organizers even left the runway up after the show so after everyone cleared out, I got up there and did a little walk, pretending I was at NYC Fashion Week and my co-worker cheered me on. But my joy was crushed when the janitor looked at me and said, “you’d never make it.” FAIL.

Fail #2

Once I got contacts and became not so ugly looking, I went to a model scouting in Wisconsin (by the airport, lovely) and was selected to go on to the “next round” meaning that I go to Chicago and actually be presented to scouts from several agencies. Literally, I felt like I was on cloud nine. So my mom and I go to Chicago and I stand in line with all these girls who get to actually walk a runway with lights and backstage and everything and smile and then I remember clearly walking down the runway, feeling like hot sh*t and then a guy looking at me, looking down at a profile picture he had in front of him and crossing my name off his list. C-R-U-S-H-E-D. And when no one wanted to meet with me after that point, I was released to go home to Wisconsin. And then the next day my car died when I tried to drive back to Minneapolis. The dream pretty much died there. FAIL.

Now I watch my Project Runway and Beautiful Life (pre-cancellation) and ANTM and realize, I’m not model material, but in my own head and safety of my private apartment, I am a little supermodel, with hips, petite frame and a little weight on her.

And I’m smizing the sh*t out of my walk.

So if you could be a supermodel, what you would you like to model? Or what is your secret profession dream? Since I’ve had two supermodel FAILs, it might be time to look into my fallback: secret agent a la Angelina Jolie.

Review blog update: I know, I’ve been slacking on this, but a new review of Neutrogena Healthy Skin Enhancer is up. It’s my foundation-alternative (especially when it’s hot outside)

I’ve mentioned before that I can get painfully shy in some social situations so I rely heavily on icebreakers to help kickstart conversation to ease my nervousness.

And I couple that icebreaker with my freakishly observant nature.

If you told me once (even while drunk) that your mother’s cousin’s sister’s niece twice removed was admitted to the hospital last month for routine tests, I will remember that and when I see you again, ask you how she’s doing. Seriously, I will.

I also strongly believe in being positive and giving positive feedback to people I know, am friends with and even manage at work. If you do a good job or if I like something, I will tell you.

So I recently started noticing that I’m big on complimenting people.

This includes complimenting hair style/color, makeup, purse, clothing, shoes. I do it because I want to and especially because I know it gives a nice little boost to someone’s day.

But while I compliment others, I don’t do the same to myself. I am so observant of others and pay attention, that I don’t do the same thing to me.

Maybe it’s because I’m my own worst critic, but instead of beating myself up, I need to give myself a break and not be so mean and rather, find something positive to call out so I don’t get too negative.

So from now on, I will continue to compliment people when I want to, but also do the same thing to me. If my hair is looking good that day, I’m going to say it out loud. If I get through a particularly though day without going insane, well, I’m going to tell myself that I did a great job. Don’t worry, this stuff can be my affirmation at home so you don’t see me in an elevator blurt out, “Jess you look awesome today, way to go!”

Things are already depressing enough on the news, why not cut yourself some slack and give credit where it’s due?

That’s my plan, a little experiment to see if that makes a daily difference.

What about you? Do you do something each day to give yourself a little boost of kick in the a**? Or are you also freakishly observant?