Editor's Note: Some of you may not be receiving notice of this post until Saturday, December 17 via Bloglines or whatever aggregator you use despite the fact that it's dated the 16th. Typepad went down pretty much the entire day on the 16th. And I had this written early in the morning on that day. It's been sitting, waiting, wishing to be posted. So I postdated it. Hope that's okay with all of you.
Since I'm on the topic of admitting personal inabilities, I guess there is one more little quirk of which I'm completely incapable... I cannot wink.
Yes, of course, I can blink both my eyes to moisten my corneas or brush away dust or, best yet, fall asleep. But I cannot wink a single eye. The whole "knowing wink" thing has always eluded me.
Back in high school, I was part of a group that was dedicated to drug and alcohol awareness (the "STAR Program," maybe? I don't really remember the name). One day, we had a big group activity for something like 200 of us where we would all walk around in the gym and one of us was to wink to everyone else as we shook their hand. Five seconds later, the person who was winked to was supposed to fall over and play dead. This activity was meant to simulate how diseases can be spread amongst populations of people. A few people standing off to the side had to guess who the disease carrier was based on "death" patterns.
Of course, I was chosen to be the disease. No jokes, please. I know you wanna.
And, I couldn't wink.
So I had to walk around and whisper to people, "I can't wink, so pretend I did and fall down dead in five seconds." I actually had to explain it some people a couple times.
Somehow, I made it through about half the group's population before being nabbed. Maybe the judges were actively looking for a winker and, since they never found one, I was safe. Can't say for sure. However, if I was actually able to wink, I may have had the opportunity to kill a larger percentage of my fellow students. A wink is far more efficient than a verbal explanation of what to do next.
And not being able to wink is annoying when it comes to those shared tidbits of knowledge amongst people. When a secret is shared, one person may wink their acknowledgment or understanding of the information with the other person. I got a lot of those winks. All I could do was nod or give an eyebrow raise back to let them know I was hip to it.
Not nearly as cool as a knowing wink.
Oh, and don't get me started on people who can raise a single eyebrow. That's something else altogether.
It really annoys me that I can neither wink nor read lips.
Does it matter that I can snap with every single finger on both hands? No.
Does it matter that I can whistle three different ways (pursed lip exhale, pursed lip inhale, and smiled exhale - great way to annoy teachers as they can never tell who's doing it)? No.
Because I can't wink or read lips.
And these inabilities make me feel like an outcast.
Why God? Why can I not do those things? Just let me wink. Once. Just once.
