I can’t shuffle cards at all (And I play cards alot), nor can I use chopsticks. I have stupid hands.
Can’t wrap presents. That’s why Og made gift bags!
Can’t parallel park anything larger than a bicycle. I will drive for blocks looking for non-parallel spaces, or ones on the corner that I can do in one move.
I can’t sit Indian-style, with the ankles crossed. It just kills my ankles. However, I CAN sit in the lotus and half-lotus easily.
I can’t do cartwheels or stand on my hands. Have never been able to.
Mind reading and teleportation.
I can’t think more than a move or two ahead in strategy games. I have never attempted chess, but I like to play Pente even though it really just makes me feel stupid.
I can’t judge distances at all. How many inches long is that sheet of paper? No idea. I can’t even guess. How many feet away is the TV set from the couch? No freakin’ clue … let me get a tape measurer (I have three, for just this reason). How many miles from my house to my friends’ house? Isn’t that why cars have odometers? 
I also can’t judge heights: I’m 5’3, so anyone over 5’5 is just “tall.” 5’9 and 6’1 are pretty much the same to me.
These last two are among the reasons I hope I never witness a serious crime: I’d never be able to tell the cops how tall the bad guy was, or how far away anything was from anything else!
Vice-versa for me … huh!
Are you left-handed? I’m right-handed.
I can’t do anything with my hair – even a simple braid comes out all off-center. I have two hairstyles, down and up (a very basic ponytail, and even those are never as far off the nape of my neck as I’d like). My hair is only shoulder-length, but I think it looks nice when French-braided and I’ve often wished for that ability.
How inept am I? Let me count the ways.
I can only whistle one shrill note. Both my parents can whistle recognizable tunes with great facility. I struggled for years to get that single note.
I can’t drive (yet), though oddly enough, I’m not bad at parking.
I can only snap the fingers on my left hand.
I can’t shuffle cards.
I can’t do anything with my hair or anyone else’s. That’s why I wear as simple a style as possible.
I can’t give directions. This makes trying to get people to my house, no matter where I live, quite an adventure. Hurray for map sites!
There are very few things that I’ve tried and cannot do period, but there are a few I have significant trouble with.
For example, I can’t swim. I can dog-paddle, I can do various strokes, but I can’t go underwater without plugging my nose and not have water go up it. That combined with a terrible fear of drowning and a fairly small lung capacity make swimming definitely not my thing.
I have a lot of trouble associating numbers with ideas. This gets in the way in science classes where we have to memorize conversions and such. I can get it after a while (1 kg is 2.2 lb, pi is 3.14) but it takes me considerably longer than most other people. When I started my job, I was told to take the menu home and memorize the prices. I still can only do a few prices from memory. I have to look most things up, at least to double-check.
I have The Dancer’s Curse. Which means that, onstage and in class and anytime I’m dancing, I’m graceful as a jellyfish. I’ve never been injured in class or onstage. But I walk into the wings and walk straight into a door frame or a pillar, go out onto the street and BAM! into a lightpost. I drop things and trip over my own feet and knock things over, and of course everyone thinks it’s hilarious. “aren’t dancers supposed to be gracful? har har.” So I try to be mindful of myself and be graceful in everyday life, but I haven’t been successful yet.
I can’t dance or do my hair. All I can do with my hair is let it grow, then put it in a functional (not pretty) braid, ponytail, or halfassed bun.
A euchre deck is missing the 2 thru 8 cards. It’s half a pinochle deck.
I couldn’t eat with chopsticks either until the day I noticed my Chinese professors huddled over their plates/bowls, mouths two inches away from the actual food shoveling away with their chopsticks with great gusto.
I think its nearly impossible to have western table manners (sit up straight, keep your elbows to your side, don’t take large mouthfuls etc.) and eat with chopsticks succesfully.
Advice is welcome but probably fruitless. My mother and grandmother and sister are alll expert cookie-bakers. They say that you have to take the cookies out just before they’re done and let them finish cooking on the hot pan outside of the oven, but I can never get the timing right and end up with over- or under-cooked cookies.
Plus I rent right now so the ovens I use are pretty crappy. I don’t think I’ve ever had an oven that actually heated to the temp I set it to since I left home. I bought one of those thermometers that sit outside the oven while the probe goes inside and that’s helped my bread baking, but the Curse of the Cookies remains.
Stranger mmmm, I’d take any one of those over cheesecake [del]any day of the month. [/del] 26 days of the month.
Wrapping presents? Forget it! A six-year-old could do a better job than I can.
Chopsticks? With some effort I might be able to learn how to use them, but when I go for Chinese I always fall back on the tried-and-true fork.
Manual transmissions- I’ve only tried driving one once, and what an embarrassment that was. I was grinding the gears, stalling the engine, revving up the engine to very high RPMs in first gear-- thank god for automatic!
Fold paper airplanes- Since I was a well-behaved child in school I never sought the need to master this basic art of classroom goof-offery.
Swimming- I flutter and panick once I am submerged in water that is too deep to stand in with my head above water. I look awful in a swimsuit anyway, so learning this skill is pretty much useless to me.
Tying balloons- My fingers just aren’t nimble enough for this.
Juggling- This is one of those things I feel I should be able to do but can’t.
I can whistle by pursing the lips, but I can’t do it with the fingers in the mouth. It took me awhile to learn how to whistle at all.
I can blow bubbles with bubble gum, but it took me a little longer to get the hang of this one. The same goes for shuffling cards, and even then, I’m far from being able to do it like a blackjack dealer can.
I do have perfect pitch as well. but it’s hard to prove this unless there is somebody else who also knows what note is being played. This “skill” leads to annoyance when I hear someone singing a song that isn’t in the right key.
Despite being pretty well coordinated (I can do just about everything in this thread except the shepherd’s whistle), I am entirely unable to throw a football in a spiral pass. I’ve tried many times, and had many expert throwers try to show me, but the technique eludes me completely.
I cannot dance or whistle. I cannot blow up a balloon (I have no problem tying one) or blow a bubble with bubble-gum.
However, the reason I feel compelled to post to this thread is because I cannot tie my shoes. At least not normally; I make two loops and tie them the way one would the initial knot. That whole silly thing about the rabbit going around the tree and through the hole never did it for me.
shudder Me neither. Anyone who’s interested can go see the Unflattering Photo Thread for evidence.
I can’t for the life of me remember people’s faces. I think something is wrong with my brain. If I see someone out of context, I have no idea who they are. Example: A co-worker came into work the other day. I was working, she was off. I treated her like a normal customer, with the “Can I help you find anything?” and “Let me know if you need anything!”
It wasn’t until I saw my manager talking to her and heard the manager say “Bye, Amber!” that I realised who she was.
Another example: I can’t watch movies alone because I don’t remember who the people are. Two guys with short brown hair? Might as well be the same person. It’s easier to remember girls, because at least they have lots of variations in outfits and hair, but a lot of guys have short hair… so I can’t tell them apart.
Also once I didn’t recognise my own parents because I didn’t expect them to randomly be in the same store as me. Usually I do recognise them, but this time, it just didn’t happen until they called me by name.
Unless someone has a distinguishing characteristic that makes them stand out, or if I’ve known them for a while and have their face memorised, I do a much better job of recognising people by voice than by face. I just simply cannot remember a face!
Actually, that’s just the universe trying to tell you that chocolate chip cookies are best if you don’t bake them. Why ruin perfectly good cookie dough?
I can’t remember people’s names. Introduce me, and 10 seconds later the name is gone.
I can’t distinguish words in a noisy place. Talking in a loud bar is futile for me. It all starts to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.
I can’t whistle with my fingers, although I can do some melodies (but not very well). I can’t parallel park and I have a Backing Up Disability since I can never back up straight. You’ve seen me; I’m the lady who is willing to walk all the way into the store from the back of the parking lot because that’s where I found a pull-through space. 
Chopsticks are easy, however.
More (possible) advice: Forgive me if this is a stupid question, but do you follow the recipe exactly, and mix the sugar/eggs/butter mixture all by itself, then only after that is well-mixed, slowly add the flour (and stop mixing as soon as possible)? I ask because my wife once tried to make some chocolate chip cookies to surprise me, and rather than waste time with the steps of the recipe, she just dumped all the ingredients into a bowl and mixed. The result was a lot like you describe your results.
Also, your family members’ advice is good: you always take the cookies out of the oven before you think they’re done; if you wait until they look done, they’re over-done.
When those were the rage, a coworker of mine couldn’t see the picture. He went to his eye doctor and was told that he had some condition (can’t remember if it had a specific name) that just totally prevented him from ever being able to see the picture. So it’s not just you and the guy from Mallrats.
If God had wanted us to bake cheesecakes, He wouldn’t have made the ones Trader Joe’s sells so yummy. 
I can’t see Magic Eye pictures, and I don’t believe that anyone else can either. I think they are making it all up, and they laugh at those of us who try and try to see the picture when we are gone.
Can’t whistle. I can sometimes but not always pucker my lips and get a whistling sound to come out. But I have no control over whether it happens or not any given time, and I certainly couldn’t produce different notes.
I can’t distinguish words in a noisy place or judge distances.
I do about as well with chopsticks as with a fork- either way, I’m going to have food on my shirt.
Chopsticks: can’t do it. I would starve to death if I was required to eat all my food this way.
Can’t snap my fingers.
I am an accomplished virtuoso in that branch of origami known as paper airplane folding however. Literally hundreds of hours of boyhood effort paid of big time there, I tell you.