I have all kinds of flaws. Here are:
10 things I am not good at
1) I am not a good dancer. If you look into my eyes and whisper Hey, you’re actually a pretty good slow-dancer, then that is a good sign that you are currently really drunk or have experienced a recent head injury.
2) I’ve never been hunting. I am not opposed to the idea of hunting at all, and I even took a bow hunting class in college. If I were hungry enough, I could knock a koala bear out of a tree with a hammer. But so far, I’ve never killed any animal larger than a squirrel. And he had it coming.
3) I never learned to whistle. I know how to play several instruments, but my mouth just isn’t made for whistlin’ purposes. People always say “Oh really? Look it’s easy, you just roll your lips like this,” and shriek one out. Then I ask them if they can still do that if I were to knock out all their teeth.
4) I have never been skiing. Neither water nor snow. I am more of a sledder. My special sledding techniques rely heavily on my ability to lay down and allow gravity to drag my ass down a hill. One time I stripped down to my undies when it was 12 degrees out and sledded down an icy hill. I didn’t realize I was dragging my feet behind me on the ice because they were too numb to feel it, and afterwards they were so chewed up, they looked like a polar bear had been gnawing on them.
5) I am not a very kind driver. I am a good driver from the angle that I’m really good at avoiding obstacles and other vehicles. My car is an extension of my own body (unlike some drivers I know, who barely have command of their vehicle between applications of makeup and playing with Facebook on her phone). But from the perspective that I’m zipping around out in public and not being a friendly representative of our community, I am the cartoon equivalent of the Tasmanian Devil when I’m behind the wheel. I’m really impatient, I’m quick to use the horn, and I fly past people like they’re standing still (whenever kiddo is not in the car with me, of course).
6) I’m bad about going to the doctor for regular checkups. My medical history is strikingly boring – no stitches, no broken bones, never been admitted, or anesthetized, or had anything removed besides wisdom teeth. If my past performance of not dying so far is any indication of how the future will go, I am apparently invincible. (If I die in some cool way, be sure to re-read this at my funeral for irony purposes.)
7) Whenever I meet another Jeff, I can’t remember his name later. I see his face, recognize him, and then draw a complete blank. Geez what is this guy’s name? It can’t be Jeff, because I’m Jeff. This is probably rooted in some version of egocentrism, where in my self-absorbed brain, I am the only possible Jeff.
8 ) I am not as strong as I used to be. When I weighed 320 lbs, I could lift a small car off the ground like a chunky white Hulk. I guess my muscles were stronger then from hoofing all that fat around. After losing all that weight, I’m noticeably more puny. But I can still hold my adult sister up over my head in the kitchen, against her will. At least I still have that.
9) I have to turn down the radio to find street signs. Everybody thinks they’re good multi-taskers, but apparently my brain cannot handle both audio and visual stimuli at the same time. On a similar note, if you ever start into a super boring story and my eyes are pointing towards my Skyrim character on the TV, please be advised that I might be only devoting 03.7% of my attention span to your super boring story.
11) I never learned to count.