Thirteen Things I Wish I Had the Ability to Do...
1. Shoot pool
Man, I would be such the badass pool playing chick. Swiggin’ on a longneck. Swearing like a sailor. Lining up the stick and knockin’ those balls in the holes. However, I have no idea how to even hold a pool cue, much less play the damn game. Perhaps in my next life...
2. Raise one eyebrow only
If anyone on earth needed to have this talent, it’s me. Skepticism, slyness, sassiness -- it works with all of them. Me -- no can do. Although I try mightily -- to very scary effect. It’s not pretty.
3. Play music by ear
I can read music -- I just don’t have the ability to hear something and then play it. Not sure what I would do with this one, but it would be nice to have. To whip out at cocktail parties and such...
4. Drive a stick shift
Have absolutely NO idea how to do this. I have a semi-recurring nightmare in which the group of people I’m with are in some sort of predicament and the only way to get us out of said predicament by car and I’m the only one able to drive... and the car is a manual transmission.
5. Chop like a professional chef
I’m a pretty fair cook. Not bad, actually. But my knife skills... ai yi yi. A gorilla might have more finesse. I get the job done, but only after much effort. It’s no wonder I am one with my mini-chop.
6. Deal with numbers
The financial kind of numbers. I don’t like them. They don’t like me. It’s a hate/hate relationship. I could regale you with stories of my financial escapades that would (and have) made accountants weep and shudder. When I was a swinging bachelorette, I decided that the best way for me to make sure I was always at least slightly financially solvent was to round up every transaction I entered in my checkbook. Write a check for $23.27. Enter into the check ledger as $24.00. (Yes, I realize I never had ANY idea how much money I actually had. But it worked for me.) Cut to me being a newlywed with a joint account... I go to close my bachelorette account. And discover that I have nearly $2000 in it that I didn’t know existed. All you financial types can stop shuddering now...
Can’t do it. Dive into a pool, that is. Gotta gracefully slide in from the side or descend like Norma Desmond down the main pool steps. I don’t know if it’s a coordination issue or my bad sinuses that hurt like hell when I position my head in such a way under water or what. I *barely* learned how to do this, after hours of tutelage from my dad at the tennis club pool, in order to pass my water safety instructor course in high school. Couldn’t dive in now if I tried. So please don’t ask.
8. Tap dance
I am convinced that if I had taken dance lessons as a child, I would be a stah on Broadway today. Sadly -- and obviously -- that is not the case. I did take a tap class as an adult when I was in my early 20s. Great fun --- even though I was the youngest student by several decades. Let’s put it this way: all of the other ladies in the class could tell you exactly where they were when Glenn Miller’s plane went down. Anyhoo... the class was wonderful. But aside from a very halting step-ball-change, I got nothing in the way of tap skillz.
9. Make a decent pie crust
You know that cooking thing? Doesn’t translate to a baking thing as far as I’m concerned. I suck at making pie crust. Suck. Suck. Suck. I’m actually not bad with the yeast-based baked goods -- but delicate things like pie crust. Big disasters. Thank goodness for Pillsbury's pie crust dough, found in the refrigerator section of your grocery store. Saved my tuchus more time than I can count.
10. Change a tire
This right here is the main reason for my AAA membership. Worth every dime.
11. Give myself a decent pedicure
Why oh why do I find it impossible to NOT get any polish on my toes when I attempt this. Again, it looks like a gorilla grabbed my bottle of Lincoln Park After Dark and went to town on my tootsies. I spend more time peeling polish of my skin than I do painting the damn nails themselves. Ugh.
12. Understand sporting nuances
Can you tell a slide ball from a curve ball as it comes flying off the pitcher’s mound? How about reading a defensive set-up in football? I can’t -- and it pisses me off. I wish to goodness I could see and understand all those subtle things about the sports I love. I was at a baseball game earlier this summer, sitting in front of a friend of mine -- who identified and commented on every pitch that crossed the plate. I thought I was good being able to call a ball or a strike... HA!
13. Not kill anything and everything I try to grow
Just call me Black Thumb, Well-Meaning Killer of Plants. Some people have the touch -- actually, I guess I do have the touch. The Touch of Death. Plants wilt away from me when they sense my presence at the nursery. I’ve killed enough basic to make pesto for a year for the city of Florence. And now I think I want to try and grow tomatoes... HAHAHAHAHA! Yeah. I’ll keep you posted.