I cannot carry a tune. I cannot draw worth a damn. And I have been living in a French speaking province for near 51 years and still cannot carry on a conversation. I took courses, tried, just cannot seem to do it. And I cannot dance, never could, although I took lessons once. Good in math, though.
If it’s math involving the alphabet, I’m a goner. The only pi I can deal with ends in an -e and is hopefully lemon meringue.
Faces. I can remember names easily, but putting them to faces, nope. My daughter will ask if I remember someone she went to school with - I can give their life story. Show me a picture of that same kid and I will have no idea.
Knitting and crocheting. I have tried a miserable amount of times to learn, but I just cannot get it.
Deep, philosophical conversation. I try, but HEY! squirrel! I just don’t have the attention span or knowledge base.
I’m good at any kind of art and anything musical (instrumental, singing, dance).
But sports… ANY sport… Fahgettaboudit.
I feel ya’. I once thought I was wrong, but I was mistaken.
Other than that…
I suck at leaving voicemails. I just can’t leave a nice and concise little message. I usually start off okay, hitting the basics (like my name) but then I realize that every single word is being recorded, which causes a flash of self-consciousness, which invariably leads to a meandering string of words that always ends with me apologizing meekly for my rambling. Never my best work.
Anything whatsoever to do with numbers or visualizing things in space (especially numbers). Unless you have dyscalculia you cannot imagine how many activities and pieces of knowledge have numbers in them. Measuring anything! Telling time! Remembering dates! Let alone virtually any science. If I am measuring an object I have to write down each parameter as soon as I measure it, or I will forget it, instantly. Numbers pour through my head like water through a colander.
I’m also real crappy at fixing anything that doesn’t involve sewing, but part of that is learned helplessness due to my husband being a genius at fixing thing. He is also a numbers guy (worked in particle physics).
Drawing. Apart from an outstanding 3-D box, I can’t draw a damn thing to save my life. It’s actually pretty shameful and embarrassing, which ultimately makes me push it down into the darkest recesses of my mind, which keeps me locked in perpetual drawing suckitude.
I can’t whistle. I know, I know – “You just put your lips together and blow.”
Many times over the years people have tried to teach me, but I’ve never been able to whistle. I once wrote Cecil to ask if my inability was related to my palate torus, but he never answered me.
I am generally a quite competent cook. My pie crusts always come out terrible. It’s like i’m cursed.
I am horrible at anything involving time. Bob said we were “calendar-impaired”, and that’s the solid truth, but also being able to say how long something took? I don’t know, could have been 10 minutes or 3 weeks. I think I started on that before today…
We missed our 5 year anniversary by several days.
So, so many things. I can’t remember them., well…cause, you know…bad memory.
I cannot keep appointments. I’m a serial cancellation girl. The receptionists at the Clinic just throws any old time and day out there cause, she knows I’ll cancel at least once.
I think this is a symptom of my agoraphobia.
Crocheting.
It’s weird because I’m usually good at things like that. If it’s something to be done with your hands that requires neatness, precision, and a little bit of artistry, I usually pick it up quite quickly. Depending on what it is, I tend to have a decent bit of natural talent at it, but not enough patience to stick to it and really make it a skill. So I can knit, do macrame, sew, do origami, bake… all stuff that mostly requires following instructions carefully and then making your own tweaks when you’ve got the hang of it. And I’ve tried to learn to crochet repeatedly. Heck, there’s a crochet hook and ball of yarn next to me now from the last time I tried like four months ago. I’ve tried learning from books, blogs, video tutorials… and there’s just something about it that does not make any sense to me.
This, only substitute Cribbage for D&D.
I suck at remembering names. I have been at my church for twenty years now, everyone seems to know my name and I know lots of names. But I do not remember all the names of everyone in my womens order, and it makes me feel bad. Other folks I have been around since I have been there and I could not tell you for sure their names. It is like not being ble to read, I have ways of concealing that I do not know names.
I am almost completely incapable of putting a basketball through the hoop, from any distance. Fortunately, nothing in my life has ever demanded that particular skill, but if anyone’s life ever happens to depend on my making a layup, they’re dead meat.
And I thought I was mistaken once but just wasn’t totally correct. 
Card games – i.e. the hearts / diamonds / clubs / spades kind. Anything in this line more complicated than “Snap” (probably called something else Stateside), turns my brain straight to scrambled egg; plus, bores me to catatonia. I can’t remember for the life of me, which cards have been played, therefore which may be still to come; and utterly couldn’t care less. I have this problem even with the the game “Uno” – cards, but various shapes rather than hearts diamonds etc.; devised, I understand, to teach kids the rudiments of cards-playing.
This deficiency on my part, spoils things a bit from time to time, re leisure time spent with relations / friends who enjoy card games; but it’s an utter aversion on my part, to the point that I’d as soon have a session with the North Korean secret police, as be forced to play cards. Yet – illogically and inconsistently – I enjoy Mah-Jongg.
My sense of direction is not wonderful, but also not terrible. My brother’s sense of direction, though, is thoroughly as non-existent as yours. Nonetheless, he enjoys travelling, and driving: for him, the satnav is the best invention which humanity has ever come up with.
Not just names, but faces too. It’s not crippling, but it can lead to awkward interactions (or deliberate avoidance of such interactions).
Also, I wouldn’t call it a bad sense of direction, more of a case of not paying attention to where I am going while driving. Anyone who rides with me with any regularity knows to gently prod me (“you’re gonna turn left up here, right?”). I’ve missed so many turns and exits while driving it’s not even funny.
mmm
And you turn right, right? 
Gymnastics. Even as a young girl with a good back and undamaged knees, I could never manage a handstand or cartwheel, never mind the more tricky bars and balance-beam stuff.
As per my name, no drawing for me.
A high slice… no problem.