I have been trying to do about eighteen things at once all day and now I'm doing the same thing on my computer.
I got a new sewing machine yesterday, a Bernina 220. I've named her Dizzy because I like that word and it felt right. Then I started feeling bad because my computer doesn't have a name and it's one of my best friends. So...Dizzy, Pony, and ... what? I'll have to think about it some more.
I made the mistake of letting one of my coworkers read my zine, the coworker who, bless her, thinks she's my mom sometimes. I saw her yesterday and she said, Virginia, I think you need to have a hobby. So I asked her why. She said that I spend all my time drinking and dancing (okay, I do spend alot of time drinking and dancing.) I didn't argue with her, but I was thinking:
A. It was Derby, for christ's sake.
B. A fucking hobby? Are you kidding me? I sew, knit, make jewelry, write, draw, ride bikes, try to teach myself Japanese, read ... I don't think one more hobby is going to magically cure my latent alcoholism or my dancin' feet.