I’ve tried to be a hobby kind of person. I really have. But ultimately I think I’m just not cut out for it. I envy people who do have hobbies, and I love to hear about them – listening to people talk about something that brings them joy and peace makes me tremendously happy. It’s just the actual doing that I’m not so good at. For example…
Scrapbooking: My mother is really into genealogy and family history, so I’ve done a couple of scrapbooks for her. She’s too nice to mention they’re hideously ugly. I’m not a naturally patient person, and I have zero visual artistic talent, so my scrapbook pages tend to be (a) rushed and (b) unattractive. I am, however, excellent at buying scrapbooking supplies, and at fantasizing that I enjoy and am good at it, so I am fully prepared with enough paper and geegaws to make at least three more albums, which I anticipate will be finished in approximately 2030. Or maybe never. Yeah, never’s good. Anyone want some scrapbooking supplies?
Yoga: I really like the way I feel after a yoga class. Not so much during the class itself. I’m just going to go ahead and say what you’re all thinking. Yoga? Is not fun. It hurts. It is hard. When I am in some yoga-like contortion, I am not focusing on my breathing and being one with the Universe, I am wondering how much longer that sadistic instructor is going to make me stay in a position someone had to INVENT because the human body does not move naturally in that way. (That should be our first hint.) On the plus side, my yoga pants are really excellent for sitting on the couch and reading – they stretch in all the right ways.
Collecting: I’ve tried collecting a handful of things over the years – salt and pepper shakers, coins, ex-boyfriends – but they always seem to escape the kennels I am not good with things. I hit a certain point where I wonder why I have all this *stuff* that’s not serving any useful purpose. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good pile of clutter sitting on the kitchen table as much as the next gal, but that’s typically really useful things. Like, you know, junk mail and homeless USB cables. So while I will sit for hours and listen to you talk about your Eritrean stamp collection, and I will actually genuinely dig learning about it, odds are that I won’t start one myself.
There are hobbies I have that I pick up and put down periodically – geocaching, guitar, brushing up on my French – but I don’t think of them as hobbies. They’re just things I do that make me happy. Which, I guess, is the definition of a hobby.
What hobbies have you tried that just didn’t work out for you?