Stuff I’m terrible at
So my friend Anna (who is really sweet and an amazing pillow constructionist btw) left a friendly comment on my last post asking if there’s anything I can’t do?
Before I start, let me say that I know Anna, and she has a heart of gold. I’m sure she meant nothing of it except to be awesomely supportive, *hugs to Anna*
…but my own insecurities suddenly went into overdrive…
Have I been getting to big for my britches? Oh no… Have I become that oppressive show-off hogging her little corner of the net?
You see I found myself cringing as suddenly I was 11, and seeing the sudden seething look of hatred my best friend gave me when her mom said “Why can’t you be more like Sonja?”
It seems to be a depressingly humourous ongoing theme in my life.
A couple of weeks ago, as I excitedly showed my pattern in the modern blocks book to some of my “mom” friends at school, one friend suddenly seemed so threatened, and made some uncomfortable comment about me being amazing at everything I do.
It seems that to many people I come across as that über talented doitall person is just naturally great at everything they do.
This is just not so, people!!
I just get really focused, like OCD focused, on stuff I’m bad at and I can’t seem to let things rest till I’ve figured the heck out of it. That’s all. I don’t think I’m especially talented in anything, unless you count the tendency to obsess over stuff a talent?
Ok, so for the record, there is a lot of stuff I’m terrible at. For example:
1 – I can’t run.
It hurts to admit it cause I was pretty athletic in high school, and my brain fantasizes my run looks like this:
However, I’ve been told by several people that I actually run like this:
2 – I have no sense of rhythm.
I blame all those years of classical piano lessons. Even though I’m sure they have nothing to do with it.
I was in the jazz band in school. I played the piano, since my then 13+ years of piano lessons made me a good candidate for the spot.
Our band was actually surprisingly good, mostly due to the extraordinary drumming ability of my older brother and placed highly in a couple of those music festivals. I remember our band teacher Mr. Smith proudly took us to a recording studio. And silly me thought I was all that, imagining myself as the next Thelonius Monk.
Well, in the middle of what I thought was a great go, he stopped the band, pulled me aside and said “Sonja, will you please find a beat. Any beat, just stick to a rhythm, your chord shots are so off it’s killing me”.
3 – I’m mathematically challenged.
God help me if I’m ever stuck without a calculator.
I took and failed precalculus in university 3 times. This wasn’t even first year math, it was the class you took cause you couldn’t cheat in your grade 12 final and just passed by the skin of your teeth. The best score I ever received was 3 out of 150 because I added right in one of the steps of one question.
Don’t let my sneaky iphone instagram shots fool you. (My computer has decided to just not turn on so I’m resorting to posting from my phone)
My knitting isn’t perfect. I see lots of weirdness in those mittens, especially since I’m too lazy to block them and used some unorthodox color-changing cause I lack a darning needle.
Actually, it’s the same reason I had to cram all the dangly ends inside the mittens so they wouldn’t show in the shot.
In fact, the first pair of mittens I ever knit were for my husband. One looked like some sort of mangled chain mail gauntlet belonging to the biggest lobster you can imagine.
The second mitten looked custom made for the 3 fingered, horribly disfigured hand stump of the grinch’s poor cousin.
You can ask my husband if you don’t believe me, I think that whole experience permanently traumatized him.
Ok, I feel better now.
All I do is practice and try try again till the cows come home or I’ve driven someone insane.
My little brother still knows the whole first movement of Beethoven’s Pathetic off by heart some 15 years after I stopped playing it.