Focus: I can't throw or catch a ball to save my life. It's bad. Really bad. Alt-Focus: I can do some wood carving stuff that a lot of people say they could never do and at this point I can walk up to my bench and just dive in on some projects without having to really think about the process, it just happens. However I wasn't a natural by any stretch of the imagination... If there is one bit of talent I haven't earned for myself, it may be having an eye for proportions and lines and being creative. Otherwise it's a matter of how bad you want it and how hard you're willing to work at it in order to get really good at something. My projects were butcher jobs for years and I'm sure I'll look back in another decade and think the same about me at this current point in time too, but it's because I'm always pushing and challenging myself to improve. Also I am the type that can get on the phone and cold call as many random people as I need to in order to make a sale (no fear of rejection, willing to approach anyone), but future employers don't need to know about that. What a soul-sucking job.
A penis or dildo with a 4 inch diameter would be about 12.6 inches in circumference. Have fun shoving that 7 inch long tuna can in your lady business.
Not to turn this into the Audrey's Lady Business & the Dildo thread, (another great band name . . .) but
I think everyone has this issue to some extent, otherwise the U.S. would have switched to metrics 35 years ago. I need some sense of perspective; in the above example of a 64 ounce bottle of juice, I have only a rough idea of how big of a jug that is. About the only area where we have switched to metrics is engine size, and I know that a 1L engine is tiny and an 8L engine is huge. My previous Accord coupe had a 3.5L V6, my BMW 540 before that had a 4.4L V8. But when I hear old school muscle car engine displacement in cubic inches, I don't have much of a clue. The big engines were in the mid 400 CI range, I think... Alt Focus: Common sense? "Wow, you're smart!" I hear that at work at lot. Um, okay... Some days I think I'm actually retarded, and there's a vast, all-permeating conspiracy to make me think I'm smart. Somebody like Ben Kingsley's character in Shutter Island is standing just out of sight, pulling the strings of this noble, progressive psychological experiment. I might write a short story about this delusion, entitled "Are You Retarded?", in which my Gary Stu insert discovers that this really is going on, gets tased and thrown in the loony bin, the Dr. Cawley-like character offers him a red pill/blue pill choice, and he chooses the blue pill to end this mean-spirited exercise (and run-on sentence) on a positive note: Either it was all a dream, or even if it is true he resolves to just do his best and make the most of life. I'm not afraid of public speaking either, but I think that's because I'm such a rainman that I don't get why I should be nervous. I think the reasons involve byzantine social conventions that are completely beyond me.
I have to do the exact opposite. I know a 5.0 is a 302, a 5.7 is a 350, and a 5.9 is a 360. I kind of have to do some quick figuring off those numbers to get an approximate number in cubic inches that I can relate to.
Public speaking just seems like something you're either comfortable with or not. Hell in college I did a persuasive speech on "Smokers shouldn't be able to sue tobacco companies." I didn't know that my teacher had just had an aunt die of lung cancer. I must have done well because I won the university competition. I would rather speak to an auditorium of people than go to a party with only knowing three people. Alt. Focus: Everyone that knows me considers me loud, confident, outgoing, and pretty much an asshole. However if I'm thrown into situations with people I don't know I'm actually very shy, quiet, and a wallflower. It pisses me off to no end yet I have never been able to get over it.