It’s Sunday, my day off (and technically my Saturday) so I get very excited when it arrives.   Right now Russ and I are both spending a lazy Sunday doing the things that we like to do, only his things are cool and mine are not.

I am currently typing this for you fine people, sprawled on the couch with a new book and a Mr. Pibb lined up beside me.  Bliss, but less than exciting.  Russ is outside in the garage working on his car.  He drives a 1983 Volkswagen Rabbit that refuses to give up, and whenever it suffers any injury, Russ is able to spend next to no money fixing it himself and loving every minute of it.  I admire so much that he has *real skills* that not everyone has, and in particular skills that are super super useful (hey he works on my car too).

Here's a sexy lil pic of his car.

I am without a talent.  Sure I have hobbies, things that I like to do, but none of them are special:  lots of people read books and work jigsaw puzzles.  These may be two of my favorite activities, but they are most definitely not remarkable.  No one will ever say to me, “Wow, I’m so impressed with the way you snap those puzzle pieces together.  Genius.”  I can remember having felt this way for a very long time.  I once came across My Old Journal (full of the angsty musings of a 13-year old = priceless shit) and found a entry wholly devoted to my lamenting the fact that my cousins each had a special talent and I did not.  I didn’t exactly want to be Horseback Riding Cousin, Acting Cousin, or Piano Playing Cousin, I just wanted my own *thing*.

Baton twirler? I was one for my second Halloween, so I might have a head start.

I took piano lessons when I was little, but my teacher was a scary bitch so that didn’t last.  I played violin for a year, then became eligible for band and switched to band with every other 5th grader to pursue the clarinet.  That lasted a few short years.  I was in an acting troupe as a Freshman in high school.  We did Shakespeare at nursing homes.  They once put us in the Alzheimer’s ward and all the old people had no idea what was going on so they would walk up on “stage” in the middle of a scene and make a cup of coffee or whatever and talk loudly to themselves.  Sad yes, and embarassing for a 14 year old.  Volleyball I loved best and did stick with–however, high school sports are no means of setting yourself out from the pack; in fact, a volleyball team is a whole *extra* pack to join.

I do think it’s very cool that I know a lot about the history of art, and that I’m becoming increasingly knowledgeable about geography.  But believe or not, asking someone to dare you to name all the countries in Africa from east to west, does not good bar chat make (I know, shocker).

You might have thought that I was working up to some sort of conclusion here, like this was all leading to my announcement that I’m going to pursue my pilot’s license, but sorry no.  I still don’t know what my special talent could be (the pilot thing was just for example, hello I don’t want to die) and remain talentless.

I think I will begin my quest for a Talent by doing a little self-exploration.  I’ve been wanting to since I first saw the list, and I think now I will actually go ahead and answer the 50 Questions That Will Free Your Mind (http://www.marcandangel.com/2009/07/13/50-questions-that-will-free-your-mind/).  Wish me luck.

This doesn't have to do with anything. I'm just really excited to see Angie kick some ass in Salt.

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