I was watching The Voice recently, and I found myself imagining what life would be like for someone with that kind of talent. These people were amazing, and I imagined that the world must be like a nonstop birthday party for the lucky few that could belt out a heart-wrenching rendition of “Endless Love” and turn it into a million-dollar recording contract.
But I’m not unaware (I do read Star Magazine regularly) that even the most gifted among us don’t automatically “have it all.” It seems that the universe likes a level playing field. We’re each given certain talents, passions, or personality traits to share with the world, but lest we become too prideful, other abilities are taken away. (I love to write, but sing like a frog stuck under a bucket.)
I got to thinking about my gifts, which quickly segued into a mental list of my failings, which was humbling in its diversity.
1. I can’t cook. At all. Recipes read like ancient hieroglyphics to me, and for some reason, all seem to assume that one is born with a at least a rudimentary knowledge of measurements and raw food ingredients. I’ve never figured out what “a pinch” of something is, why rack placement is relevant to the outcome of your cookies, and who the hell would spend $12 on a tiny jar of something called “Cardamom.”
Over the years, I’ve set fire to five kitchens, burnt a couple dozen tubes of cookie dough into cinders, exploded three batches of bread dough (two onto the floor and countertops, and one into the ceiling fan), blew the door off an antique stove, made a cheesecake that required a Sawzall to cut, and accidentally torched the family cat trying to light a gas oven.
The universe (and my family) seems determined to keep me from further attempts to master this failing. Hubs is more to the point with a simple “For the love of God, woman, stay out of the kitchen.”
2. I can’t stay on a diet. I’ve been on them all. I’ve done Jenny, Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem, and Atkins. I’ve tried HCG drops, metabolism boosting supplements, juice fasts, and cabbage soup plans. Hubs says my average diet lasts until I get hungry, which is usually about two hours after breakfast. One if it was anything other than bacon, eggs, and toast.
Diets are like budgets. Both are based on deprivation. Weight loss experts tell you to write down all your favorite foods, thus producing a list of things you’re never allowed to eat again. Ever. Then they hand you a new list of crap you’re expected to eat instead for the rest of your cranky, deprived life. If I liked broccoli, I’d eat broccoli. Since I hate broccoli and I love chocolate, we’ll forever remain at an impasse.
3. I can’t single-task. I have an internal need to be doing a minimum of three things at any given time. Single-tasking makes me anxious. My life is governed by the all pervasive To-Do list, and accomplishment comes from seeing tasks crossed off like a 6-year-old getting stars on his homework.
Hubs and I love movies, but we haven’t been in an actual theater for 10+ years because I can’t sit still and watch the screen for two hours without getting up to check my messages, get another glass of wine, fold the clothes, unload the dishwasher, paint my nails, or clean out the refrigerator because I got up to get a Diet Coke and noticed some expired produce in the crisper. After the first two years together, Hubs just accepted that this is my way of enjoying a movie and he stopped asking if he should put it on pause until I came back.
4. I suck at delayed gratification. I tend to be an impatient person, and Hubs repeatedly states that I’m congenitally incapable of waiting for things I want. My basic philosophy is that if I can be happy while I wait for it, I can probably be happy without it, so then I must not really want it. If I truly want it and it’s a quality of life issue, it makes sense that I need it now.
Needless to say, this has caused a few bumps in the marital road between Hubs and me. Unless he’s prepared to move forward immediately, he’s learned to respond to my requests involving large expenditures with a monosyllabic “No.” “Let’s wait” or “Let’s talk about it” are not optional responses because everything that isn’t an emphatic “No” will interpreted as a “Great idea! Here’s the checkbook.”
5. I’m not a duck. Criticism or rejection doesn’t just roll off my back with Ghandi-like grace. I tend to take it to heart, getting all hurt and self-absorbed, wailing “Why don’t they like me??” until Hubs finally throws his hands up and turns on the Big Game. With headphones.
Criticism is painful, but rejection kills me. Yeah, interesting, given that I choose to be a writer. Gee, no rejection in that endeavor. Agent rejections, blog unsubscribes, Facebook defriending, all immediately catapult me to the nearest Safeway for a half-gallon of Ben & Jerry’s Schweddy Balls and a tube of Pillsbury Slice-n-Bake cookie dough. (Yes, together.) My worst nightmare is that someone will read my funniest post, look up and solemnly state, “I don’t get it,” at which point, I’ll start searching the want ads for job openings as a sex tester at the local organic chicken ranch. (Yep, that’s a real job. Somebody’s got to figure out if those baby furballs have a willy or not.)
But now, at 58, I’ve learned that even with my wealth of shortcomings, I’m good. And instead of constantly trying to overcome my flaws, I’m learning to work around them. Besides, for those rare days when the bad outweighs the good, I can still sing in the shower.
And there’s always more wine.
Well you and I are Sisters from a different Momma Vikki…………..well at least for all of the above except the weight thing FINALLY I lost some weight just by walking and cutting out sodas. But trust me IT AIN’T EASY!!
I agree, Barb, that weight struggle can be a doozy! I finally lost the last 10+ pounds I’ve been working on since 1974, due to the new Parkinson’s meds I’ve starting taking. Seemed a fair trade! :)
You’re better than good. You’re insightful, wonderfully self-deprecating and pee-my-pants funny. I look forward to your posts and each time ask myself, “Why didn’t I think of that???”
Thank you, Roxanne! You just made my day! :)
Thanks for being willing to poke fun at yourself. It helps the rest of us find the fun in life. You have a great gift of insight. I wish we lived in the same town. You are a lot of fun! For now, I’ll just “hang out” with you online.
Karen, we’d have SO much fun if we lived close by! Until then, I’d love to hang out with you online. And yes, I’m always willing to make fun of myself. So much material to work with! :)
You are fabulous. I can cook but my cleaning skills are well, non existent. I refer to the desk in my kitchen (which is on display for the world to see) as my desk of shame because it is always a disaster. I also suck at dieting so I don’t do that shit anymore. My children sometimes look like homeless people because they are still growing into a sense of style and they don’t brush their hair as often as they should….sadly I can’t blame this on their age…they are tweens not toddlers. So there you go…..I feel much better now. Hugs to you.
You’re too funny, Bryce! Love the “desk of shame.” That’s what I’m going to call our oven! :)
I love, love your sense of humor. This was so funny – I especially love your description of your cooking escapades…
Thanks, Angie! It’s always fun to find someone who gets my goofy humor! :)
Can I adopt you?!
Diane, absolutely! You pick up the chocolate, I’ll bring the wine! :)
No rejection to be found here, dear Vikki! You ARE fabulous. There’s definitely an echo in here! :) I love that you can find and appreciate the humor in your shortcomings. That’s not easy to do. You handle it beautifully and you inspire all of us to do the same (though most of us fail to have the gift of humor that you do). Thank you for sharing your great gift with all of us – for always making us laugh and smile. Your star might have a few dim spots on it, but the rest of your shine is magnificent! :)
Marcia, you are my bestest cheerleader. Love you too, woman! :)
I love the way self-acceptance progresses:
I hate my XYZ…
I would be a better person with out my XYZ
I have a better XYZ than most, actually…
I kind of like my XYZ…
Anyone who doesn’t like my XYZ doesn’t have to
I wouldn’t be who I am without my XYZ.
I love that about fifties. That, and not cooking if I don’t feel like it.
Susan, I love that! I’m printing it and taping it on my bathroom mirror. (Although I should tape it to my bathroom scale!) :)
You make me laugh and that makes me happy we reconnected – 30 years is too long! I wish I could sit with you over wine and giggle and talk about past lives (remember Ouzo in Prince George?). As a counsellor I tend to take a strengths based approach and I challenge you to create a similar post based on your strengths (and you have many!).
Anne, I love that I make you laugh! Yes, we are 30 years overdue for a wine and giggles night! The idea for a strength-based post has got me thinking… :)
And yet you still manage to kick all sorts of ass in the humor department.
Thanks for that, Emelie! Love you too! :)
ha! Funny how one persons idea of shortcomings are another persons idea of just right! I mean really…what’s not to like about crossing things off a list? And don’t we all enjoy that so much we will even write down something we have completed for the mere satisfaction of drawing a line through it? Life would be so boring if we didn’t come wrapped in our own little pecadilloes. Great post. :-)
Thanks, Elin! And you’re right. Our flaws and foibles often make us more interesting! :)
I can’t stay on a diet either and it’s killing me! Every time I see myself in pictures I’m like “put the chocolate bar down and do some freaking push ups!” But then I get hungry. I mean it this time though…I’m really gonna lose weight. ;)
I’m rooting for you, Linda! But I’m with you. Diets are fine, until you get hungry. Then put down the cupcakes and get out of my way! :)
I’ve love to hear more about how you got bread dough in your ceiling fan!! Haha. I am a listmaker but not much of a multi-tasker. I can usually focus except when cleaning, then I leave things half done because I keep finding something worse. I’m an okay cook as long as it doesn’t need to get too exciting. I’m with you on cardamom. I got a spice rack when I got married and most of the spices are untouched 16 years later.
Liz, then my mother recently told me that spices are really only good for one year. $12 for 1/8 of a tsp., and it’s going to expire before I try those damn cookies again. That’s why God invented Oreos. :)
Singing in the shower makes everything alright. Perfect Vikki.
It does, Liv! And if no one’s home, you can belt it out. It’s been known to send my Chihuahuas scrambling for cover, but I take no offense! :)
Yes to instant gratification! When I want something I’m the most obnoxious person on the planet. And Ben and Jerry’s Schweddy Balls! That’s genius! Am I a bad mom because I made my kids sit down and watch that sketch on YouTube? (They were like 10 and 12 years old. And now they bring up Schweddy Balls every Christmas. I started a new family tradition!)
Gretchen, years from now you’ll be fondly remembered as the mother who introduced Schweddy Balls to the family Christmas traditions. The kids will love you for generations to come! :)
Oh, Vicki! I feel you on the cooking. I can cook a passable meal but I am very, VERY uncomfortable in the kitchen and I hate to cook. With a passion. I can say that I’ve never launched bread dough into a ceiling fan though!
I never had to diet in my entire life. Then I turned 45 and my metabolism didn’t slow down…it died. Now at 47, I’ve given up. I just embrace my curves and try not to tip the scales too much.
I haven’t been here in a while and I miss how fun you are! I’ll have to remedy that.
Love it! Mine isn’t something I’m NOT…it’s something I AM–or possess, actually. I have whiskers. I am constantly plucking like the dickens and have only stayed away from laser hair removal because someone once told me you have to let the affected area GROW OUT for 2 weeks before going in to get it done. I should probably just take the plunge, buy one of those sick-people face masks to cover my chin for 2 weeks, and do it. But oh, THE HORROR!! But I swear, I’m a hottie besides those damned things, and I’m kinda funny, too. So I’ll take ’em…as long as I have a good set of tweezers. Which I do. :)