Every once in awhile, I manage to fool myself into believing that something wasn’t really hard, I just hadn’t been trying at the time.
I haven’t tried to do anything with my nails since at least college, possibly high school, but I picked up a bottle on a whim yesterday. Today, after at least an hour of struggle, I have to admit that it really is that hard to put a smooth, even coat of polish on without getting it on the surrounding skin.
(The former top of the list: learning a new language.)
Painting the nails is just not worth it. It looks nice for a day or two, assuming you can get all of the misplaced polish off of your cuticles, then it starts chipping and looks like shit. I suggest a nice buffing kit- looks nice and so much easier.
My mundane task that seems incredibly difficult is putting air in my tires. I just hate it. You’re out there, on your knees on the hot, hard pavement, the killer sun is beating down upon your head and face, you’re paying 75 freaking cents! for air, you have to twisttwisttwist forever, and then for some reason I can’t seem to fit the nozzle into the thing without losing tons of air and then you have to hold it there for how long, who knows! and then use the gauge, and then I always forget how much I’m supposed to put in so I have to look for that information which should be by the driver’s side door but I can’t find it half the time, and oh my god! It’s such a pain in the ass.
Playing video games. I didn’t when I was a kid and now I guess I’m too old, but I just got myself a 360 for Bioshock, and it’s too damned scary for me to play even in the daytime. I forgot how mcuh I hate things jumping out at me, and then I freak out and can’t find them to kill them. They’re always behind me. Sigh.
I painted my fingernails on Friday for the first time in years because I was going to a wedding and wanted to be all ladylike, up to and including wearing rings and bracelets and so on. I’m a bit out of practice with all this lady stuff and painted my nails before I put the jewellery on. :smack:
The maximum tire pressure is stamped on the side of the tire. It says somethng like “max load 1200 lbs at 34 psi”. Just fill to that pressure. No need to go hunting for the owner’s manual. Besides, the numbers in there applied to the tires the factory installed, not the ones you’re driving on today.
Reading Being and Nothingness by Sartre. I’ve got the damn book, I’ve tried to read it Og knows how many times–I even took NOTES once, but Jesus. Forget it.
I love having my nails painted. Note “having” them “painted”, not actually doing it.
This is one of those things where it’s nice to be a man. I have an excuse for having no desire to learn how to do it myself.
Granted, I only have it done once every two years or so. No idea why–it’s not a conscious thing–just every two years some enterprising lady ends up painting my fingernails. Traditionally, they proceed to sex me once I have shiny fingernails. One of my Air Force buddies called that “the strangest mating ritual I’ve ever heard of”.
And just like wallpaper is…painting a room. You start out enthusiastic, picking a color, taping, then priming…then you’re 6 hours in to something that seems like it should have been less than half that when you were still optimistic.
Then 2 weeks later you are still finding drips(now all dried up, of course), and spots that need another coat. Yuck.
I have to chime in with following a detailed crochet pattern. I like to do simple patterns and simple stitches but every once in a while I get a bug up my ass to look through my books and start a complicated pattern.
It starts out okay but I get bored easy and then lose track of what row I am on and I get frustrated and set it aside for it to never be finished and pulled apart later to be used on a simple pattern.
Why do I think I can pay attention that long? Why can’t I remember the last time I tried it and it that is was to difficult for me to enjoy doing.
Shaving the stubble on my neck. Every now and then I think I just need a new razor, or that I’m not shaving with enough pressure. All that really happens is I waste money and irritate my skin. The stubble remains…Tempted to start a pit thread.
Laying a laminate wood floor with my spouse. Oh, we did it; the miracle is that we didn’t kill each other in the process. The kids hid for several days – good sense of self-preservation on their part, I must say. I fear that one day he’ll want to do it again. Remind me to be out of the country!
Huh. How about cutting wood accurately? I know, I know, “measure twice, cut once.” Well, whenever I try it’s more like “measure twice, cut once, cut again to skim it down a bit, measure again, check the saw to make sure the guide is squared up properly, skim it down again, measure again, throw away the wood and repeat from step one.” It shouldn’t be that hard! :dubious:
Rice pilaf. I damn your very name to the skies, rice pilaf!
I am a good cook, but rice in all its various forms just never turns out for me. Ever. No matter which directions I follow (packaging vs. recipe vs. husband vs. mom), I wind up with dense, glutinous glop or stiff little grains that stubbornly refuse to absorb flavor, and are nearly impervious to chewing.
Sorry, this is completely wrong. The maximum tire pressure is often quite different from the optimal tire pressure.
And the optimal tire pressure depends on what car you’re driving, and the size of the tire - the specific brand doesn’t really matter. Unless you’ve put tires on your car that are not a size the factory recommends, you should follow the tire pressures listed in the owner’s manual.
My car takes 225/45-17 tires, and the maximum tire pressure on the latest set I bought is 60 psi. Keeping them that high would make for an extremely uncomfortable ride, as well as wear them out very quickly. I keep them around 36, like the manual says.