I am nobody special...

So, the name of the blog.  It sounds a bit depressing doesn't it? But it's true. Honest!  I am nobody special. I have no specific talents, just a bunch of little mediocre skills that get me by.

• Just enough artistic skill to create stuff,  not enough imagination or skill to make it amazing. 
• Not good enough at any one thing to make a career of it.
• Never went to college.  
• I'm a slow reader with a short attention span. 
• I can cook if I have a recipe but I can't make much without one.
• I have cut a couple of friends hair with decent successful result but I lack the inspiration and vision to actually pursue that as a career. 
• Same can be said for movie/tv makeup (was into SFX/horror makeup for a while) 
• I'm fickle in my projects as I tend to start things and then forget about them or give up on them.
• I get over zealous about ideas and never follow through.
• I can't keep my house clean.
• I struggle with my weight. 
• I....

......well that list just ran away with itself into a mess of negative attributes.   Oops.   But you get the point.  

Really though. I found myself recently obsessing over Misha Collins and his Gishwhes event. A week long scavenger hunt the winners of which will get to go on a pirate adventure with the man himself.  I found myself trying to get in on his Q&As, his Ask me anythings, on twitter, on facebook. tweeting him like mad only to miss out each and every time.  What made me think I was any different than the other 100's of 1,000's of people trying to ask him a question?

I found myself drooling over the guest list for a local geek convention coming up and wanting so desperately to go even though I'd be 36 weeks pregnant at the time. And for what?  To spend $400 of money better spent getting ready for this baby or on fixing up the house just so I can oogle, meet, touch celebrities who, as nice as I'm sure they are and as inspired and in awe of them as I am, will not remember who I am 5 minutes after I walk away? Why? What should they care who I am? I have nothing remarkable about me.

The most remarkable things I've done in my life include growing humans in my belly. 

Don't get me wrong, I adore my family,  I love my husband and my little boy.  But I spend a fair bit of time thinking I deserve neither of them.  

So, given all that, why do I feel the need to be recognized by celebrities and people who inspire me when I have no reason for them to?  I'd love to meet Misha, not because he's Castiel, not because he's an actor, not because he's bat shit insane (Okay, maybe partly because of that). But mostly because of all the good he has done using his status. The kindness organizations and hope2haiti missions and good deeds he spreads.  But I'm still me. Nobody special.  I will not be noticed, I will not be remembered, and I need to accept that.  My timing will never be right, my words always seem to fail me when I need them.  (Like the time I met Bruce Campbell, and all the questions that were teeming in my brain about the movie biz and horror and make up and whatnot, and after hours and hours of waiting in line, when it came my turn to shake his hand, I turned into a giggling school girl spouted some stupid and walked off with my autograph no different than before, other than $50 poorer)

I need to stop chasing fantasies and focus on who and what are in front of me.....