I wasn't born with any extraordinary talents. I am not a chemistry wiz or gifted banjo player. I can't run super fast or really even walk and remain upright without extreme concentration. But I am really OK with that. I am decent enough at plenty of things and am realistically aware of my strengths. However, there are things that I am so bad at, its down right laughable. Seriously.
1. Wrapping presents. I have tried and tried many times to learn how to wrap presents without it looking like the handy work of a drunk toddler. Even when I have taken the time to press sharp creases in all the folds and perfectly place the tape, it inevitably winds up looking like this:
3. Leaving voice messages. In general, I have don't have a problem talking. I also don't have a problem talking on the phone. However, ask me to leave a voice message for someone and suddenly I panic and forget how to form a sentence. It is bad enough that I can't put together a string of coherent words, but I also suddenly aquire the compulsion to KEEP TALKING! I ramble on and on while repeating non-words, "Yaaaaaah, ummmmmm, RIGHTIE -O! Uhhhhhhh, buh-byies now." I am pretty sure I have even grunted on occasion. When I was in my second year of college, I was leaving a message on a restaurant answering machine where I had applied for a serving job. I was trying so hard to sound friendly and upbeat that somehow I ended up saying "Love you, bye!" at the end of the message. Oddly, I never heard back from them. It has been so bad that at times, as soon as I finish leaving a message, I can't even remember what I said.
4. Lying. I am a horrific liar. When ever I attempt to fib, suddenly I am like a four year old with a face full of chocolate, trying to blame all the missing the cookies on the dog. I am about as convincing as a sand sales person in the Sahara Desert. When ever I have tried my hand at fibbery, I feel like Joey on Friends: the stories involve random things such as poltergeists, overdue library books and raccoons. I hate lying, so I have never bothered to get good at it. Seems like way too much work to me.
5. Running. Running for me is like bath time for a cat: an utter nightmare. The simple act of successfully placing one foot in front of the other presents a considerable challenge for me. Needless to say, coordinating my leg movements at extreme speeds is just pleading for disaster. I was not built to handle the emotional anguish of running either. The few times my running attempts were not cut short by sustaining physical injury, I ended up with the strongest urge kick a puppy. I always feel sore, sweaty, annoyed and scared. Why would anyone voluntarily run? I don't think I will ever understand it. It would take being hunted by a pack of psychotic, homicidal clowns to get me to even toy with the idea of running. Truth be told, I would likely just try to find a good place to hide instead.