I don’t own a TV. Before everybody jumps on me for this–it’s not that I don’t own a TV for any moral reasons, or because I think I’m somehow above watching the tube. Early on in college, I ended up in a living situation where there was no TV. I found that I didn’t really miss it (maybe if I’d had really neat cable channels I would have felt otherwise), so I just sort of never replaced it. Somehow, it’s been a good 10 years since I’ve owned a TV. I keep thinking of getting one so that I could get a DVD player and see lots of cool movies. Somehow, I just never get around to it, though.
I can’t see the images embedded in those 3-D magic eye pictures. Well, I can look at them while crossing my eyes. Then I get an image that sinks into the page, rather than popping out at me.
I can’t get into the hoopla surrounding any team sport. I just can’t. I feel kind of lousy that I can’t, since it means that I miss out on a lot of stuff lots of people around me really enjoy. But I just don’t seem to get it.
Things I can’t do:
I can’t whistle, at all.
I can’t float. I used to be able to float, but I’ve lost too much fat to float anymore. Even without any clothes on.
I can’t snap with my left hand.
I can’t raise my right eyebrow independently, but I can do my left.
Things I can do:
Roll my tongue.
Eat pretty much anything with chopsticks (including times at non-Asian restaurants, to my mother’s eternal shame).
Be the official moving help when anyone I know moves house.
Roll my RRs and correctly pronounce the J (CH in Deutsch) when I’m speaking Spanish.
I can’t see those “magic Eye” things either and have absolutely rotten depth perception. I once had an opthamologist do various tests and he determined that my eyes don’t track to the same vertical level. Also, my right eye is highly dominant and the left eye’s just providing some horizontal width to the world
On the road, I don’t have much trouble keeping the car pointed forward and not running into anything, but close-up maneuvering is iffy - an archway in the garage between my parking spot and the door is about a foot wider than the car. Fortunately, the mirrors on both sides are designed to fold in, rather than snap off.
I can’t carry a tune if it had a handle.
As a not-uncommon side effect to stomach surgery (laproscopic fundoplication) I had a couple years back, I can’t vomit. Last time my body thought vomiting was an appropriate course of action, I wound up with a small hernia.
It seems that almost no one can see those Magic Eye things. In the true spirit of this thread, I’m going to say that I can, after a lot of practice. Something that really helped me at first was looking at framed Magic Eye pictures; if you stare at your reflection in the glass, the 3D object becomes apparent. I honed this technique for looking at the Magic Eyes in books (on glossy paper–I can’t do them when they’re printed on Matte). I have a success rate of about 50%. Large, simple items are a lot easier to see than pictures with many components, as you may have guessed. Something that really gets me a lot of times is I’ll want to look around the entire scene and see if I’m missing anything; that causes me to break my focus, and I have to start all over again.