So, life out here in the BK equivalent of Siberia gets a little boring, yeah? And it’s especially hard to connect with people for good wholesome friend-timez for like a random drink or some such. So I end up turning to some fairly lame pasttimes. You could say OkCupid serves as a kind of hobby for me…like halfway between watching TV and actually connecting with people. Except for the fact that that gets messy really quick. Because in the words of the very last date I canceled on:
“…please know its shitty, its not some online shopping site, and I made time specifically for this date and turned down other plans. Anyway good luck guess you saved me some trouble.”
Heheh. I got over that guilt pretty quickly, if I do say so myself. But I do have a healthy conscience and am pretty sure I should stop wasting the time of those legions of single ladies out there, desperate to score a solid man who absolutely has no interest in any of the younger, hotter, nicer, funnier/smarter, more pleasant girls out there on the scene.
But I digress. Also I exaggerate so don’t get all upset and whatnot. The point of this post is to ramble on a little about the absolutely pathetic hobbies I’ve picked up.
Here’s one:
I got some packets of seeds from a hardware store in Greenpoint a few weekends ago. Plants are like my pets. They are also like my only neighbors and friends out here. So sad. I couldn’t even take a pic in focus (iphone plus shaky hands)… well I took some with my camera, but I haven’t seen the fucking cable for that thing in over a year, so those pics will never be seen by human eyes. Maybe 1000 years in the future they’ll dig it up and plug it in (it will turn out to be 2 feet away from the cable) and analyze my photos of hundreds of tiny green shoots, and wonder why. Why did this man dump a whole packet of seeds into one pot? Didn’t he know they would all die before they grew 2 centimeters?
The answer is: he doesn’t really care. He’s just killing time on hobbies that take forever. Like growing plants from seeds. I also bake bread (badly) and make jam (ok I did it twice, and it turned out pretty good). Activities that are crazy cheap, take aaaaalllll day to finish, and then don’t matter if you fail miserably. My breads, for example, all tend to be heavy and super dense. This last one had a shot of being pretty good because I said “what the hell” and doubled the yeast (which is what makes it rise and get all fluffy). No such luck. But who cares, because at most it cost me $2 to entertain myself for a whole day. The seeds were $1.20 plus the dirt left over from some other plants i killed this winter. And who knows, maybe I’ll wak up some afternoon, hungover and depressed only to have my spirits magically lifted by a window box full of blooming petunias. Because I think there may be plant elves out there… like the shoe ones that come and make the shoes at night for you. Only with flowers. Yadda yadda bored bored.
Having said all that, it’s getting warmer outside. It’s getting less painful to stumble in to the neighborhood late at night. Having sworn off dating for a while (I shut down cupid, stopped returning texts, and told a girl no more sex), I need to hang with people who don’t want to have my baby. Or who don’t want me to carry their purses while they put on their sweaters or dig out some cigs or whatever. People who aren’t weighing everything I say to see if it adds up to good husband material. I need to start choosing the questionably fun options (e.g., silent disco with old friend-quaintances) over the sad pathetic ones (play draw something on the couch all night). So that’s what I’m going to do. And finish my first novel too. In fact, I am trying to read it for the first time and I FINALLY came across a page of pretty good shit. I might just post ya up some.
Oh, and somewhere in between I should tell you the story of the date with Reese, in which I found and then lost the perfect after-work bar of my dreams.