My New Hobby. Hint - It's Adorable!!!
People are under the mistaken impression that the reason I haven’t been blogging that regularly is because I’ve been spending too much time on Twitter. Not so! Yes, I spend eighteen hours a day on Twitter, but that’s just because a despot needs that kind of time simply to keep tabs on his followers, of which I have eighty thousand. (80,000. 80k. 8k x 10.)
But that still leaves however many twenty-four minus eighteen hours is to do other things, like post on my blog. But I haven’t been doing it. Why? I’ve been too busy with my new hobby, making latch hook rugs. Yes, I am one of those people caught up in the whole “latch hook rug craze” that has been sweeping the nation like some sort of venereal disease that mainly targets the old, mentally unbalanced, and infirm.
People think it’s easy to make a latch hook rug. And they’re right. It is. People think there’s no artistry involved. And they’re right. There isn’t. But when people say that even a moron could make a latch hook rug, I respond by saying, “That’s a GOOD thing, because morons need hobbies, too.”
And it’s not just me and morons who make them, either. You probably didn’t know that in addition to creating the Theories of Special and General Relativity, Albert Einstein was an avid latch hooker. It’s true! (Not true.) In fact, on his deathbed he said that his only regret was that he didn’t complete his final latch hook rug, which contained his long sought-after “Theory of Everything.” Also true! (Also not true.)
Personally, I specialize in latch hook rugs featuring kittens playing with balls of yarn. Why? Two words: A-dorable. I just love those little kitties, and I love the irony of using yarn to make a rug featuring a picture of yarn. How many “kitten playing with yarn latch hook rugs” have I made? Somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred and fifty. All of them identical. All imperfect. Why imperfect? Because I believe, like the Tibetans, that it’s important to leave at least one mistake in each latch hook rug to demonstrate man’s fallibility. And also because I’m fucking terrible at it.
Yes, I’m a terrible latch hook artist, which is my great shame. When you are engaged in an activity that is given to people to stimulate their frontal lobes after a brain injury, you feel ashamed when you cannot master it. But that is my shameful truth. Either I put the wrong yarn in the wrong hole (that’s what she said), or I accidentally tear it (that’s what she said), or I end up letting the dog ruin it with its mouth (Did she say that too? She did, but only after a lot of therapy.)
But I’m not giving up. Just as I didn’t give up when people told me I would never publish any of my radical feminist poetry. Well I never did publish any of that poetry (Sample first line of a poem: “Her armpits like a fetid forest overgrown.”), but I haven’t given up on it. And I’m not giving up on this. One day I’m going to complete one of those goddamned fucking kitten playing a ball of yarn latch hook rugs just right. When I do, I’ll return to more rigorous blogging. But until that day, I have to follow my heart; and right now my heart is telling me that there is a kitten playing with a ball of yarn somewhere that needs to be immortalized, and I’m the man to do it.
UPDATE: Things just went from adorable to awesome. Check out this bad boy.