Good enough

Napoleon Dynamite and I suffer from the same deficiency: neither of us have any skills. I am not proud to have something in common with Mr. Dynamite, but I must own up to it. I got nothing in the talent department.

Cynical has a great voice and rhythm. He can even sing in the car without fear of others cringing. Several people I know knit amazing sweaters and sundries (sundries = other stuff). My youngest brother, Knight D, is a talented artist in multiple media. My middle brother, Knight P, has incredible mental retention and is great writer. He also has a talent for being able to talk to anyone about anything. Me, I can’t even really grow a good tomato.

I have struggled most of my life trying to find something I am good at, but always came up empty. I used to fancy myself a writer, but I fear I have wasted that limited supply of talent on press releases and newsletter articles.

I once thought I had an eye for photography, but then I actually opened both eyes, took a good look at the work of others and realized that I wasn’t good at it, just better than my family, and that wasn’t saying much. Not cutting people’s heads off isn’t talent, it’s just because I am short.

I had wanted to sew and thought maybe I could create some really cool gifts for family and friends. Alas, Knight P’s girlfriend (Seamstress J) is an artistic seamstress (or fiber artist if you will) and has perfected her craft for many, many years. I don’t even want to consider sewing; I would only have stitch envy and go mad.

I thought perhaps gardening was my deal. After the massacre of plant after plant, it just doesn’t seem fair to the environment any more, so I hung up my spade.

I had ventured into baking at one point and when I realized that my sugar cookies in unique shapes were actually scary, I abandoned that quest also. I can’t even cook pasta correctly.

I had finally decided that the one thing I had excelled in was being me, a unique, quirky and interesting me. However, in time I started realizing that being me wasn’t all that and in reality, I wasn’t very unique or really even quirky in an interesting way. That bubble burst with a loud pop and the sound still resonates in my mind every time I am near someone that is talented, uber-cool and truly unique. I am reminded once again that I got no skills. Me and Napoleon Dynamite.

Update:
Cola Intake for Wednesday: One small fountain Diet Coke from Target. (Yes, I went to Target again. Let it go!)

Cola Intake for Thursday: One 12-ounce Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper as kinda a reward because, darnit, I am just a good person.

Cola Intake for Friday thus far: Nada, zip, but planning to have one with lunch because, well, it’s Friday, that’s why.

I took the photo above of our hydrangea, primarily because I have killed or maimed nearly everything I have planted myself. These came with the house and I have left them alone; so they are doing well.