Once upon a time, I used to think I was a pretty talented person. I've played piano since I was six and got good grades in high school. I felt pretty good about myself.
Then I came to BYU, home of the concert cellists and engineering prodigies. Yeah, I've played piano for sixteen years, but I've never performed at Carnegie Hall. I didn't even have above a 4.0 when I graduated. Whoops.
In my five years here I've started cultivating some secret talents; talents that are different from everyone else. Like, I have really good handwriting. Really good. I've practiced. For hours. It's my pride and joy. Nothing fills me with more pride than when people look at something I've written and say "Oh my gosh, that looks typed." Stop it, you're making me blush.
Also I'm freakishly good at remembering birthdays. You mentioned your birthday to me once under your breath? I'll remember it for years. My first boyfriend's birthday was November 14. My great-grandmother's is May 2. Dr. Wakefield's wife was born on Leap Day. You really have no way of knowing if I'm telling the truth right now, you'll just have to take my word for it. But expect a birthday card from me when we're eighty.
And finally, I am never in the back of the line. Seriously. When I get in line at an amusement park or restaurant the line forms behind me. I always get there right before the rush hits. This comes in handy a LOT.
Do you have any secret talents?