a portrait of me

July 15, 2010 at 4:34 am 3 comments

| Useful Things I Cannot Do |

I can’t build things.  I don’t cook meat.  I object to lighting matches.  I can’t fix the computer when it crashes.  I can’t draw – not even good stick figures.  I don’t sew well.  I also can’t dive into the pool.  I can’t body surf in the ocean, and I can’t catch a football (yet).  I can’t drive a stick shift.  I can’t keep maps in my head.  I can’t iron complicated things or be in two places at once.  I can’t do a cartwheel.  I can’t play any instrument well.  I can’t fit into most clothes, especially ones that aren’t petite.  I can’t blow-dry or french braid my hair.  (okay, I can blow-dry it, but I haven’t mastered getting the ends to turn under nicely while blow-drying).  I can’t tan.  And I can’t hear possible harmonies in a song.  I can’t speak foreign languages fluently (though I can fudge my way through Spanish).  I can’t keep a straight face to save my life – and it doesn’t matter whether we’re having a staring contests or friends decide we’ll take a “non-smiling” picture.  It simply does not work.  I also can’t beat anyone at arm-wrestling.  And my hair won’t curl on demand.

| Things I Can Do That Aren’t Particularly Useful |

I can talk for hours about musicals.  I can write blog posts late at night.  I can fix almost anything with tape.  I can make funny voices when I read stories, and still recall huge chunks of From The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, which I listened to (on tape) so often when I was little that I practically memorized it.  I can do front caprioles and heel stretches and splits.  I can make people stay up later than they ever intended.  I bounce and squeak when I get excited.  I can put on mascara and sing at the same time.  I can cry at the drop of a hat, though I’m not sure if I can cry on cue.  I can speak in a Bronx accent, and occasionally an English one.  I can read for hours on end.  I can use up five journals in a year.  I can arrange pretty “tablescapes” on my nightstand and have a nightmare of a dresser at the same time.  I put smiley faces after nearly every sentence I type.  I’m always obliging when someone wants me to pose for pictures.  I can shave my legs by balancing my foot on a shampoo bottle (thank you, college).  I can get a salad from the dining hall in the time it takes to toast a bagel.  My face can turn a few shades beyond scarlet whenever I’m hot or cold, and stay that way for a good forty-five minutes.  My whole body can turn a few shades beyond scarlet if I’m out in the sun too long.  And in the winter, I can sleep in a sweatshirt under a heavy blanket and down comforter and still not be too hot.  My ankles can bend in the wrong direction, because they’re double-jointed.  I can have fun cleaning my room because I’m not actually cleaning it; I’m doing my best flamenco poses for the mirror while wearing the new fake-flower-hairclip I found.   I am an expert on all things related to being the baby of the family.  I can sing the ditty that’s the Poison Control Center’s number.   I can make spoof excercise videos. 

Who wants to be normal anyway?

But really, some things are just overrated.

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Entry filed under: random nonsense.

Take a Second Look Thoughts for College Freshmen

3 Comments Add your own

  • 1. singamelody  |  July 15, 2010 at 9:17 pm

    My sentiments exactly; normality is overrated 🙂

    You also have the ability to make people feel very appreciated, welcome, and important.

    You have an infectious smile and laugh, and a happy hug.

    ~Your Twin 😀

    Reply
  • 2. Megan  |  July 16, 2010 at 1:44 am

    You are an excellent book-suggester! And “From the Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” was my FAVORITE book when I was younger! Also–I think need to see this ankle thing…:p

    Reply
  • 3. singamelody  |  July 17, 2010 at 1:28 am

    I forgot. Making spoof Pilates videos is DEFINITELY useful.

    Reply

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