Horrible Hobbies

I am horrible at having hobbies.  Picking new things to explore is easy.  Sticking with them enough to accomplish something is where it all goes wrong.

As a child I think I may have taken up nearly every hobby a normal kid tries ... collecting stamps and coins, ice skating, rollar skating, guitar--not piano although I always wanted to try. I've done crafts, had a scrapbook, painted and took up drawing.  I even learned to cross stitch and knit.

In a matter of time I lose interest or reached a plateau of learning where to get better would take an act of god or coupious amounts of practice.  Which, I get it, practice is a good thing and that's how you get better.  But aren't hobbies supposed to be fun?  Not work?  Maybe that's where I go wrong.

The thing is, the only thing I've ever been naturally good at is drawing and writing.  I don't think my drawning skills are above average, though I do love to draw.  It's good, but not great.  Where writing is something I think I can feel proud of.

My idea of hobbies are something to do in your spare time that you love.   Now, there are a lot of things I love, but I don't think they are very good hobbies .... if they are hobbies at all.  Saying I cyber-stalk Dooce might be a hobby, but it's also a little creepy. Watching television, you tube, playing online games and reading might be hobbies, but they're also pretty dull.  

The issue I run against is that I get bored or disinterested pretty easily.   I love to cook, drink wine and try new foodie things -- but if I'm not in the right mood I could care less.  Hard to keep up with anything that way.

Maybe a part of it has some to do with my lack of ambition with goals and dislike of competition.  Even writing horrifies me because I'm afraid this quality of mine will be my ultimate downfall.

Inappropriate Exchange

Dear Smoker in the Car Ahead of Me,

I understand that your vehicle is one of the few places where you can suck on that tube of dried out plants.  Maybe that's why you have such a look of ecstasy that I feel inappropriate even witnessing this exchange of oxygen for carcinogenic.

Right now, I will not protest that you're killing yourself and the people--like your family--who are around you most often.

Let's not bicker about how awful you smell when you enter a room after you "indulge."

In this moment, I'm honking at you because you're flirting with that puff instead of being aware of traffic signals, and that precious green arrow just turned to yellow.

So here we sit.  All because of your damn cigarette ... while you're at it, turn off your cell phone!