I think I can...I think I can...I can't

There is this...thing that happens to me whenever I witness anyone with talent do, well, anything with talent.
I have always been this way.
When I see someone do something particularly awesome, I get an overinflated sense that I can do _____ (fill in the blank)too.

For example(s).

In 4th grade, my school took a trip to the roller rink. I saw some 8th graders in the middle of the rink just a-twirling, twirling, twirling. I was mesmerized by these girls. The height of their bangs. The disco like reflection off their enormous glasses and Manic Monday being played over the speakers. It was magical.
They had four more years of rollerskating experience than I did. They made it look easy.
I grabbed my friend Tracy and skated toward the center of the rink amidst oohs and ahhs of my 4th grade classmates. I was gonna twirl. And I was gonna do it well.
Needless to say, I did NOT twirl well, and would certainly have landed myself in a full body cast had the eighth graders not seen to it that Tracy and I were quickly removed from the center of the rink.  4th grade dorks were not allowed into the center.  Unspoken rule or some such nonsense.

Cut to present time.
I watch the Young Americans perform.......... I think I can sing and do an intense cardio workout dance at the same time for 3 straight hours. (Nope.)

I watch American Idol..........I believe I can sing anything from Whitney Houston's Catalog with Whitney Houston accuracy and style. (Nope-ity nope.)

I Watch the winter Olympics.......... and I think I can snowboard. Or do that broom sweepy thingie that I still haven't figured out the point of. (What the?)

I watch Ken Jennings on Jeopardy.......... and I think I can answer any question correctly even though I have never actually been able to do so. Ever. Unless it's celebrity Jeopardy where they clearly dumb down the questions. (Whatever-so can my 6 yr old.)

Do you see what I'm talking about?  Yeah. It sucks because honestly, for like 30 minutes after I see a cool thing being done by someone who has CLEARLY got a different skill set than me, my brain allows me to believe that not only can I do these things...but I can do them better. Ugh.

Then comes the inevitable minute 31 where I have been hopelessly  attempting whatever it is I happen to be infatuated with only to realize I have failed. And not just fail, fail. I mean, I go above and beyond at failing. The only real talent  I have is consistency of lack of talent.  It's heart breaking until I find the next thing I become SURE that I will be good at.  Ghost Hunting? Tax Preparation? Yodeling? Silk screening pictures of ferrets onto t-shirts?

And one of these times, I just may surprise myself.* *But I hope that I don't find out I'm good at Yodeling. Where's the money in that?

Tonight's heartache? I went to my local bookstore and listened to one of my FAVORITE authors (Lesley Kagen- read her!) speaking about her newest book. She is witty and smart, has great life stories, is friendly, charming and a hell of a good writer. And guess what? She made it all sound.So.Easy.
Like any homosapien-ish being with access to a computer or, god forbid, paper and a pencil can write a fabulous book just as she has done on 3 occasions.



For the last half hour of her discussion, I wasn't even listening (what a shame). I was deciding who would watch my child tonight when I went home and wrote the next big thing in publishing.

Title: The Eye of the Beholder. (I told you. No good.)

Well, here I am at minute 42ish and I have come back down to earth. I will not write The Eye of the Beholder (you're welcome), but 15 minutes ago that seemed like the only obvious path for my life.

I am so weird. Oh well, I know I make being weird look easy. Go ahead. Just try to be as weird as me. I'll give you 31 minutes.


BTW,    Lori at Random Ramblings of a SAHM  is now hosting FYBF. Go there for the rules, ok?