I have one easily defined skill: I can arch my eyebrows -- yes, each one, independently. In fact, my sister and I used to play a game in which we would do a weird eyebrow-version of Simon Says: She'd arch her left eyebrow, I'd arch mine. She arch her left, right, left, right, and I'd match her. On and on, faster we went, until we were bored with this game and went back to more fun pursuits, like "ice skating" on my mom's album covers. (We always took the records out, Mom.)
That's it; that's what I can do. Well, okay, and I can curl my tongue, but that's not hard. And I can do this kind of weird thing wherein I bend my middle finger backwards, pushing on the nerve, and it makes my finger jump spastically. But nobody wants to see that.
Why am I contemplating my relative lack of skills, you ask? I just wrote a piece about someone who speaks six languages. Six. As in five more than me. I need to learn a trade or something here, people. Any suggestions? Because I'm thinking carpentry is the way to go. Worked for Jesus. You know, until it didn't.
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