Hobby

I need a hobby. And I don't mean this in a factitious "Wow, dude, chill, you really need a hobby" way, no, I really need a hobby. Something to do besides working, sleeping, cleaning, running, volunteering, and taking care of my family. Now I know that when you look at that list, most of you are probably wondering why on earth I need another hobby. You would think that I have enough to do without adding yet another responsibility to my life. But I don't. Well, I do, obviously, but ever since we found out that adding a baby to our family was out of the question, there is an empty space in my life, one that I know I need to fill. So what is a girl to do?

For about a milisecond, I considered going back to school. It's possible it was less than a milisecond actually. Maybe it just flitted across my thoughts while I was asleep. Either way, it's not going to happen. First, I wouldn't know what to do in school. Get a degree in, say, logistics, or French, or nursing, and then what? Become a nurse, a logistician, or a French teacher? It would seem the logical thing to do. But you know, I really don't want to be something else. I mean, I may complain about my job, but I do actually like what I'm doing. And secondly, and probably more importantly, having spend a serious amount of time in school, I really don't want to go back. Honestly, I'm not sure how I ever made it through that many years of school in the first place. I certainly wouldn't have the motivation today. I mean, the thought alone of having to write essays, study for tests, and listen to endless lectures is enough to make me want to lie in bed and watch TV. So with all that in mind, going back to school is probably going to do very little in terms of filling the void.

And that left picking up a new hobby. Something to do that didn't involve donning spandex clothing, tying one's hair back, and producing copious amounts of sweat. But what to do? The past years, my entire life has centered around working, sleeping, cleaning, running, and the family, so my inspiration regarding hobbies has all but dried up. Fortunately, in a dark and murky past, I was quite the extracurricular activist. I would get so bored with my job as a researcher, that I tried possibly every workshop and class that my local community center had to offer. I played the piano, drummed the djembe, sang in a choir, performed in musicals, took pottery lessons, did a workshop on belly dancing, did one on tai-chi, took Italian classes, rode horses, made collages, learned how to paint with oil on canvas, did karate, and a whole host of other creative things I've forgotten. So plenty of inspiration there. After some deliberation, I decided that I would really like to do something creative again. Taking up pottery, or maybe learning a new skill, like glass blowing, or drawing, sounded really good.

And so, Dixiechick the eternal optimist looked around her little town for classes and workshops. I'm sure you know what's coming. There are no pottery, painting, drawing, or glass blowing classes offered in town. They're not even offered anywhere in a fifteen-mile radius around my town. The nearest place that offers anything creative is thirty miles away, and it doesn't even include pottery. Oh, there are plenty of classes here in town. Mommy and me swimming lessons, lamaze classes, natural birthing workshops, quilt classes for beginners ("we start with baby blankets!"), sewing workshops ("make your own baby clothes!"), and a whole slew of bible studies, including the "Bad girls of the bible" study offered on base.

Yes, of course, I'm going to go to a natural birthing class, or a workshop where you can learn how to sew your own baby clothes. Because we all know that besides shooting bamboo up my fingernails, self-flagellation is one of my favorite pastimes. So with that out of the question, that leaves bible studies. And you know, I don't want to learn about God and the bible right now. Call me petty and childish, but I don't want to learn about how wonderful any of that stuff is when He and I are not on speaking terms right now.

But not all is lost. You see, just the other day I discovered a belly dancing class offered on one of the many satelite campuses in town. And a few days later a friend asked if I wanted to learn how to line dance with her. Now although I never considered line dancing as a serious hobby, it would definitely be an interesting conversation starter at work:
"So what did you do last night?"
"I learned how to kick my right leg really high while lifting my cowboy hat at the same time and calling out "yee-haw". And then I do-see-do'd with a man named Bubba."

So, line dancing it is. At least I'll finally really earn the name DixieChick.