Since I was in college, my mom was convinced I was destined to be a writer. I’m not entirely sure what sparked this. Looking back, has she ever read anything I wrote? Did she sneak a peak at my angsty high school journals (NOT diaries, they were JOURNALISTIC creations) and see some potential behind a melodramatic ramblings? She wasn’t the type of parent to help me with math homework every night and DEFINITELY didn’t read over my essays before turning them in. Maybe it was just that blind confidence each parent has in their child’s abounding potential.
All of that being said, when posing the question to myself “what are my hobbies?” recently, I drew a complete blank. The only thing I’ve consistently done my whole life, is write. I’ve never partaken in extra-curricular sports. I was forced to take swimming lessons, art classes, tennis lessons, and even a few soccer and basketball leagues, but nothing stuck. In high school I ran cross country and turned out being pretty good at it, but who wants to say their hobby is running? Who am I, Forrest Gump? I don’t even like running anyways. Why would anyone? I have to question the sanity of anyone voluntarily running marathons (and applaud, I guess.)
The years after graduating college, I never really felt pressure to have a hobby. For the first couple years, you’re able to just coast on the “win” of getting a job post-grad that’s allowing you to be self-sustainable. There isn’t yet that added pressure to have a full time job AND something else outside your soul-sucking career to make you more “well rounded”. Personally, I was able to coast through my first few years post-grad filling my social calendar with heavy drinking. After graduating from an Urban, liberal-arts school, it was a shock to the system (and liver) when I joined the work force. A few factors played into this; first, I befriended some State school kids. I’ll get back to that. Secondly, my social calendar quickly filled with happy hours and parties. Any given week I’d have one or two work events where my colleague friends and I would show up to a downtown bar and enjoy completely open bars, on the vendor’s dime. We’d chow down on free food and chug vodka waters all the while mingling and taking FULL advantage of the surprisingly popular photo booths that typically accompanied these events. Exactly what my job entails, I’ll perhaps get to later, but for now this perk is the only relevant detail to my current tangent.
Back to my new found friend group. Don’t get me wrong, my college was by no means a “dry campus”. Being in the heart of a big city, we’d all get our fake ID’s and trek to the nearest underage bar each Thursday night to drink cheap long island iced teas (back when hangovers were a nuisance, not the true medical emergency they become these days) However, when Saturday rolled around, we’d take the train downtown and go to museums, site-seeing or check out new restaurants in the multitude of urban neighborhoods surrounding our campus. It was hard to rationalize choosing a dirty, dingy bar over the slew of activities we had at our fingertips. Before you think to yourself “GOD this girl sounds bougie”, please realize as underage, broke college kids, we simply couldn’t afford going out to bars every night. We didn’t have the funds or honestly, the fortitude to dedicate our entire weekend to drinking. But these State school kids, man… From what I gather, it was completely normal to just wake up on a Saturday morning at 7am and start drinking. Even when it wasn’t tailgating season. Just chugging beers, for no apparent reason?!? Initially, I had a hard time rationalizing this. Sure, we day drank on St. Paddy’s day, but that was likely the only event of the year that involved drinking before 5pm. My new found friend group introduced me to a whole new world of binge drinking. And I spent my early twenties learning what I had been missing out on all college. With my new found source of income (and ditching my fake ID), the drinking possibilities were endless. I drank at brunch, in backyards, on patios, on rooftops, on boats, at Karaoke bars, at dive bars, clubs, sporting events, you name it. And I had an absolute blast doing it.
As you can probably sense by my need to even mention my current lack of hobby (that didn’t seem to be an issue before, why is it now?!), this lifestyle slowly shifted. First of all, the glamor of work events wore off. The treachery of small talk and hungover Fridays began outweighing the free sliders and vodka sodas. Suddenly it became more appealing to go home, put on sweats, and binge watch Real Housewives of NY. Something else started happening that typically starts to happen around this age: coupling off. In the beginning, us girls dedicated all our free nights to each other. Then slowly, we got into relationships, friends moved in with significant others, and ultimately began re-prioritizing their time. Suddenly, making 4 pitchers of margaritas on a Friday night for a girls night went from a weekly occurrence to bi-annual. Such is life. I’m the last person to hate on the natural order of this. It happens.
Which brings me to the title of this post. First, a disclaimer, I promise this blog is not going to be about me delving into my brief relationship and ensuing break up (I mean I’ll probably touch on it, I’m fucking human, SUE ME), but I do have to pay this relationship homage for being an inspiration for this blog. It took dating someone so driven and focused on their goals and “passions” (side note: fuck people with passions. The only thing I feel passionately about is pizza rolls and Fireball) to realize I don’t really know what my hobbies are or what drives me. It took my ex-boyfriend saying to me “Maybe you should get a hobby of your own” to realize this. (Apparently bugging him to text me back all the time and being completely obsessed with him wasn’t considered a hobby.) Perhaps the purpose of this blog is to explore those, or maybe like my mom said, I really do have a knack for this writing thing. (Took everything in me not to turn that last bit sarcastic and deprecating). Ultimately, I thing I’m doing this because I enjoy it. And after all, isn’t that all a hobby is?
PS – I already hate my domain name. Can someone teach me how to change it? I was trying to do a stupid word play on Fox News (I’ll get to that later, maybe) and its stupid.