I gotta know!

Is anyone else as maniacally interested as I am about knowing their own imperfections? I know we’ve had this conversation many times. I’ve assessed myself (and this particular tendency) over and over. I know it affects my own health and happiness, I know it affects how I handle relationships with guys. And yet… I can’t NOT CARE about them.
Case and point: I have a friend who “notices everything.” He calls this “having high standards” but what it basically boils down to is that he can find something wrong with almost anyone. We pick on him for this because he, like every person he mentally sizes up, is not perfect either. And in the process of picking on him about this one afternoon, he gave me a few examples of the types of things he notices. “__________ is a gorgeous girl… but she has an unusually long neck… have you noticed?” (I had… but not consciously.)
So of COURSE, when any normal human being would become slightly disgusted by the idea that someone could be so unabashedly judgmental, I’m inwardly WISHING he would tell me what mine is. Why do I want to know these things?!
I love honesty. I love people who let me tell them exactly what I think of them, and also people who will tell me exactly what they think of me. Even if its, “Your butt is flat and you need a haircut.” Ha!
I’m reminding myself of Angela on “Performance Review Day.” But here’s the thing… I know its not good for me to care about this stuff. I imagine people I look up to and think, “So-and-so would never care this much about knowing what other people perceive to be their imperfections.”
The answer is that these people have learned how not to be selfish. Why spend time wondering which of your flaws other people have noticed? Use that time thinking of other people… how to serve them, how to make them feel loved, how to be Jesus to them. Wow, there’s a thought. If Jesus was tempted by every struggle, was he ever tempted be too concerned with his physical flaws and what other people thought of them? I can’t imagine.
And yet, if I thought this kid would tell me what his “sizing-up-assessment” of me was… you know I’d ask him. I’m hopeless.