Talent

From dictionary.com: Talent - noun - a special natural ability or aptitude.

From Dose of Lyndsy: Talent - noun - that thing that makes other people do things better than I do them and that makes me want to hit them.

For the most part, we all know talent when we see/hear/read it. Talented people just convey it better than people who aren't talented. When I listen to old Whitney Houston albums, she makes the hairs on my arms stand up (in a good way). Listening to William Hung makes me wish I were deaf. You just know the difference.*

Talent's all well and good...when you enjoy your talent. Unfortunately for me, that's not the case. I'm a talented student. My fellow law students hated me for it. There they were, hunched over their textbooks until their vision doubled, while I sat in my dorm room making awful-looking homemade cards and painting wooden boxes. But yeah, I'm not a student anymore.

I'm also a talented lawyer. I didn't do it for long, but someone I trust, and who would know talent if he saw it, told me I am. Awesome...but being a lawyer sucks.

This is not to say that talent is everything. Even if you are talented, you still have to cultivate the talent. Tiger Woods looks great at tournaments, but he also practices every day, for hours and hours. Whitney Houston didn't just walk into a recording studio, belt out a few tunes and leave.

However, working up your talent is much easier than starting from scratch with something and struggling from there. I also believe that you can tell the difference between the product of someone who's talented and someone who's worked their way to proficiency.

I say all of that to lament the fact that I am not a talented writer. When I was looking for a job, people kept asking me what it is that I want to do, what I like to do. I said I didn't know what I really liked to do, and as for the job, didn't care, as long as I make enough money to live and enjoy the people I work with. Looking back, I just think I didn't know. I do now.

I've spent the last two weeks on the couch, recovering from back surgery. As much as I love Netflix, there's only so much Murder, She Wrote and Bones I can watch. So I took up an old hobby - blog stalking. What struck me more than anything else is that there are some SERIOUSLY talented bloggers out there.

I read a lot - books, blogs, magazines. Each medium has a different set of challenges. I think being an interesting, intriguing, decent blog writer has to be one of the hardest things to do. If you've bought the magazine or you're sitting in a doctor's office too bored to even count the ceiling tiles, you'll probably read most of it, even if the article doesn't catch you right away. I don't think we expect books to excite right from the beginning. There are hundreds more pages to read most of the time. The really thrilling stuff is locked in the middle somewhere. If a blog doesn't catch you right from the start, clicking away takes almost NO effort.

I want to be one of those interesting bloggers. I want people I don't even know to read my blog and want to come back for more. But for me, it's going to take work and a lot of it.

*Art may be the one exception to this. I remember an episode of Murphy Brown (Sweet God, I'm getting old), where Murphy claimed that her 4-year old kid could paint better than the artists whose exhibits she was viewing. She turned it into a challenge. She had her kid paint a picture and then placed it in an exhibit. For the most part, the art critics walked by and commented that it looked like a child painted it. One critic stopped and commented that perhaps on the surface it looked like that, but if you looked into the depths of the work, you could see the soul and meaning, and blah blah blah. The rest of the art critics bought on that and in the end, all declared what a masterpiece it was.

About Me

This is the part of blogging I'm not very good at. Trying to describe me is like trying to explain what a sunrise is like, words can only get you so far. The rest you have to experience on yourself.

Oooh, I like that. I'm an experience. Think of it this way: You're a trailer park and I'm a tornado. Yeah, it's like that. I'm intense, almost too much to handle. If you're not careful, my personality will envelop you completely. I have an opinion on almost everything and I like to think I'm right most of the time. I probably have an overblown sense of entitlement (not my fault, I'm a Millenial) and it matches nicely with my supersized ego.

I love school, can't seem to stop going. I have BA in Political Science from the University of Florida (Go Gators!), and since that's not really worth anything, a JD from Seattle University. To avoid paying on those law school loans (I could have had a small condo), I decided another degree was in order. Enter MA in Criminal Justice, also from Seattle University. And no, I have no idea why I need an MA in Criminal Justice when I have a law degree.

All my degrees landed me in the exalted position I have today - administrative assistant for a large company. No, that's not code for anything. The best part about that is that I had to talk them into letting me have an interview! I love my job and the people I work with. At the end of the day, that's all that really matters. I've spent enough time working in places that steal your soul. When I'm ready to sacrifice my soul to the devil, it'll certainly be for something more than a job that pays peanuts and where the people treat you like you're expendable.

When I'm not working I spend time harassing the man I love. He's crazy enough to let me live with him and his daughter. We have a blast and I have no idea how he still tolerates me. It probably has something to do with the fact that I can eat most of a Texas donut by myself. I know that would do it for me. Turns out, he was a bit abusive.

The harassment doesn't stop with him, it extends to my friends as well. I love them dearly because they too continue to put up with me. I also love them because they keep my ego inflated by telling me just how addictive and awesome I am. Much easier than paying people to do it.

I pretend to be crafty and I live to force my creations upon other people. (See friends as noted above). I'm thinking about venturing into a homemade card-making business, but who knows? I never really finish anything I start. I love card games, movies, books, and all the other crap everyone says they love. Except feet.

I started this blog back in 2006 as a way to vent my frustrations about some of the people in my life who were giving some serious grief (No, seriously, it's Swiffer, not SwifTer. Read the package. Can't do that? Good thing reading isn't fundamental to your life. Oh, what's that, you want to be a lawyer? No, they don't read. It's okay). It's gone through several lives since then and will probably always be a work in progress. (Did you like that split infinitive? the excessive use of commas?)

I blog because I truly enjoy it. I get a place to just let loose without really worrying about what anyone else thinks. You don't like what I'm saying? Don't read it. I don't care. When I don't blog I feel emotionally constipated. There's no Immodium for that. The only cure for that is MORE COWBELL more blogging.

I hope you enjoy yourself. If not email me at idontcare@notarealsite.com.

My Alter Ego

I was enjoying an episode of Bones last night (Season 4 - Mayhem on a Cross) and there was some discussion about alter egos. It made me start wondering what MY alter ego would be like.

I see alter egos as the people we would like to be if we didn't feel constrained by the social rules we feel apply to us. I'm sure other people have different definitions of what an alter ego is, but that's what I'm running with.

Of course, for me, figuring out who your alter ego is, and what that person is like, is only the first step. The real question is how to bring my alter ego to life.

I thought about this for a while and it dawned on me...my blog. It should have been obvious, but hey, I'm medicated these days.

A good friend of mine, understanding what I mean by alter ego, wondered how it is that I could be MORE me than I am now. I say, wait and see.

Welcome to the new Dose of Lyndsy!