I Unknowingly Traded My Ponies for a 9-5.

I'd like to, eventually, be what most people would consider an interesting person.

For clarification purposes, let me provide some synonyms:
- Fascinating
- Riveting
- Compelling
- Captivating

I could go on, but if you really need more, just Google it.

It's not that I think I'm a terribly boring person, it's just that after a few years of being in the "work force" I realized that it's really hard to have hobbies.
 
Looking back on it now, it seems like my life up until age 23 basically was a hobby. All I did was fart around. Everything was breezy and exciting and I didn't do a single thing I wasn't interested in. I was going to be a freelance writer and a performer and just whatever happened, happened.

Then Sallie Mae was like, "lol."

So I went out and stumbled through a number of jobs until I landed in one I am ok with enough to keep doing. It was not long after adapting this 9-5 type of routine that I realized how hard it is to have hobbies. My days all looked very similar.

6:21am- Alarm goes off and I immediately hit snooze, understanding that when I told myself I was going to get to the gym by 7am, I really knew I meant 7:20am.

8am- I get home and shower rapidly, half-heartedly rub make-up all over my face, comb my wet hair, and take a long look at myself in the mirror. Once I've taken it all in, I let out a nice deep sigh and think to myself, "Welp, this is as good as it's going to get."

8:30am- Run around doing things I know I should have just done the night before (make lunch, tidy my room, finish finding Waldo), then put my shoes on, happy that I'm going to be on time for work.

8:31am- Realize I still have something else to do that will make me late for work.

9:05ish am- Arrive at work where my boss will inevitably make a joke to the tune of, "Thanks for joining us." At which time I will wave my hand and grumble.

9:05am-5:30pm- Black out.

5:30-6pm- Leave work, try to avoid eye contact with the soldiers of God lining the entrance to my subway stop, get on the train, and head home.

6:15pm- In a Superman like fashion, change from business attire to my pajamas.

6:30pm- Tell myself I'm going to have a little snack and accidentally fill up on an entire box of Cheez-Its.

7:00pm- Eat dinner anyway.

8:00pm- Somehow the Law and Order theme song is on, my pants are off, and I know I've given up on the night.

I feel like at least some of you know what I'm talking about.

I've been in this routine for about 2 years now, and I am finally ready to hobby up. But I'd been out of the game so long, I decided to turn to the Internet for some suggestions. I searched, "popular hobbies."

The results were ridiculous. They were all way too expensive (traveling, motorcycling, plastic surgery) or complete excuses for hobbies (sleeping, fight club, dating online).

You know what? Dating online is a hobby. It's called Tinder, and it's a great way to have weird fun right from your couch. There really is something oddly satisfying about you and a stranger agreeing that, based on vague pictures, you would definitely at least consider touching each other's butts. I don't have one, but I play with my friends' sometimes.

A Tinder account, I mean. Not butt. I have a butt. And I don't play with my friends'.

Anyway- it all seemed nuts. If these things could be hobbies, maybe I already had a bunch of them, but just didn't realize because I was so used to doing them all the time. So, I decided to look up the definition of hobby.

Hobby- (n) 1. An activity done regularly in one's leisure time for pleasure.
                  2. A small horse or pony.

Based on definition 1, these are my current hobbies:
- Cleaning my apartment.
- Rearranging my bookshelf.
- Watching the same movies over and over again.
- Consumption of wine, craft beer, and fancy whiskey.
- Snacking. (see 6:30pm)
- Taking extremely hot showers with the window open a little.
- Online shopping without the buying part.
- Learning about Outer Space and the Ocean, but only in small doses because it makes me panicky.
- Acting retired.

Based on definition 2, I don't have any.

The good news is, at least 4 of the activities on my above hobby list often involve my friends. And since my friends are interesting people, I'm happier having them than hobbies my friends find interesting.

I'm just trying to make myself feel better. Cut me some slack. And anyway, I can always go out and purchase a small horse or pony.

"Lol."- Sallie Mae

I Might Start a Cult.

People are weird. All of us. I'm not talking weird like in the individual special flower way. I mean to say that we're a bunch of creeps with secrets and strange habits that we all know are better kept to ourselves or at least within the confines of our own homes. As you can imagine, I am no exception to this rule.

For example, if I don't follow the same steps every time I shower, I'll end up forgetting one. If my hair gets washed before my body, there's a solid chance my body won't get scrubbed at all and I'll never make a dent on that temporary tattoo of a dolphin that I drunkenly bought at a bodega while I was waiting for a mortadella sandwich.

Even though I know that we're all allowed to have these little quirks attached to how we move through the world, sometimes I think I might be taking it too far.

It never starts out as oddly as it ends. I'll just be lying in bed, fantasizing about waking up to find out that work was miraculously cancelled for the day, when it will dawn on me that I should set my alarm on my phone. So I do. I set it based on whatever time I need to get up in the morning. I factor in if I'll be going for a run, or making breakfast, or maybe finishing the episode of Law and Order SVU I was watching but knew if I finished I'd be too scared to sleep. It takes place in NYC you know. Where I live.

Then I'll put it under my pillow and pull it right back out to make sure it's set. I see that it is and I put it back then remove it another time to check, knowing full well it's definitely set, but maybe for PM instead of AM. This may happen up to 3 more times. At which point I convince myself I'm being ridiculous and also feel pretty good about inadvertently doing 5 crunches.

Bed also provides me with an excellent opportunity to replay conversations I've had over and over again. Why did I pronounce coupon like q-pon? I never say it like that. I feel like I was definitely the only one who said it like that and now everyone thinks I can't read.

Luckily I have the most stellar group of friends in the world, and I when tell them I have made this fatal social error they assure me that no one noticed and stop being dramatic. Then I calm down and shortly after start to worry that no one notices me. Then I start to think that I'll probably accidentally try to act cool next time I see everyone.

So the next time I see everyone I act uncool on purpose because I don't want them to think I'm trying to act cool.

You're probably wondering what sort of things I do and ways I act when I am intentionally acting "uncool." I can't cite any examples, but am told that nobody notices a difference. The cycle begins again.

My life is very stressful.

More than anything, I have this one tendency that really get's me wondering, am I insane? Am I perhaps a sociopath who missed her calling and should drop everything I'm doing right now and start a cult?

That tendency being that I have an innate ability to act like an entirely different person depending on the social setting I'm in. It's not calculated or even intentional. It's as if I black out and become this giant schmooze monster, capable of out schmoozing anyone I come into contact with. When I exit the conversation, a confused wave of terror washes over me as I come to and realize I don't know what I said or why I said it but everyone seems to be ok.

One time in high school my tennis coach said he would be happy to see his daughter grow up to be like me. The other parents told my mom I was so "generic words for outgoing and lovely girl." When I got home, in so many words, my mom asked, "Who are you?"

I don't blame her though. For those of you who didn't see me through my teen angst, I was listening to a lot of Straylight Run at the time. You know what I mean.

Or just the other day I was on the phone at work talking to a coworker I'd never met in person, giving instructions on something to help her out. In the background I heard my boss laughing. I asked him, what? He said, it's just funny. I said what's funny? At which point he said, hearing you talk on the phone. You're like another person.

Oh, is it funny? Or am I distantly related to Ted Bundy.

So I leave it in your hands. If I'm not crazy, and these are all just silly little "things" I do, good for me.

If I am crazy, keep your eyes peeled for my cult. It will probably center around raising money to donate to me for my student loans so I can feel free enough to speak to the universe and make all of your wildest dreams come true. I can't explain exactly how I'll do it, but it's sort of like how Pocahontas could paint with all the colors of the wind. Just trust me.

There will probably be jello, too. I love jello.

Sorry I Touched Your Tit.

Happy 2015 y'all. I hope you welcomed it warmly and with people you like. I personally had a great time. I accidentally ate too large of a serving of mashed potatoes with dinner, then had to drink coffee at 9:15pm in order to make sure I could stay awake for the toll of midnight. Just before the ball drop, I ventured to a bar in Brooklyn with a few of my nearest and dearest, at which point we observed a fire lick up the side of a building across the street. Someone decided to #laterGrinch and light a discarded Christmas tree on fire next to a pile of garbage.

And just as I thought the fire was going to rage out of control, a large woman came storming out of the bar with two fire extinguishers and attempted to quell the flame. She was strong, determined, and if I had to guess, of German or Dutch descent, with a perfect uptown fade.

She failed, but the fire department showed up and everything was fine.

Not too long after, I was lurking in the back of the bar waiting for my turn at karaoke when I saw her walking past me to put the empty extinguishers in the back. I looked at her and said, "Hey, you're a hero." She laughed, we exchanged pithy banter, and just before she left she made a hand gesture that ended up resulting in full graze-like contact with my left boob.

We stood for a minute in silence until she said, "Sorry I touched your tit. Happy new year." She walked away and the MC called me and life went on.

But after "Heart of Glass" ended and I put the mic down, I got to thinking about her touching my tit. I mean, it was completely accidental. But at the same time, she touched my tit. And sure, that's happened to me before. However, most of the time when my tit is getting touched, I have some sort of say in it. Much of the time, it's partially my idea. That's life though, isn't it? This woman got to second base with me and I didn't even see it coming.

Then I realized, "sorry I touched your tit" is basically a metaphor for my philosophy on life. Rarely plan, seldom think ahead. I just go on touching and apologizing.

So in the spirit of the new year, I'd like to talk about some of the happy accidents I experienced in the last. I know that it would be more typical to talk about what I'll be doing this year, but I have no idea what I'll be doing this year.

Let's have some fun. Why don't I tell you about it like a bunch of movie trailers. Yeah, Gab! Good idea.

2014- The year I attempted to spend a summer without air conditioning, and eventually snapped.
Summer lovin'? More like summer oven. You'll break a sweat laughing at this hilarious romantic comedy about a girl and her AC unit. 

2014- The year I went to Iceland.
Last Spring, find out what happened when Gab travelled to a land of gnome homes, natural salty hot springs, and a food pyramid that contains only meat and bread. Also Bjork. 

2014- The year I went to Cape Cod during Bear Week with my mom and little sister.
Who needs a buttery lobster roll when there are hairy bear rolls aplenty?

Enjoy the visual for a moment.

2014- The year I got a corporate job.
This thriller will have you on the edge of your seat as you watch what happens when an English major figures out her skills are useful in other settings than poetry workshop and finds a way to go to bed without having nightmares of defaulting on her student loans. 

2014- The year I read The Hunger Games series.
Follow Gab on her journey as she realizes she'll never be Katniss, just as she could never be Hermione...

2014- The year I took my 3 year-old niece to the Bronx Zoo for a day.
Ever been tired? Really tired? Well not as tired as you'll be after watching this action packed adventure between an aunt just trying to be the cool one, and a 3 year old on a mission to save the world by telling each stranger she sees not to talk to strangers and rescuing every foreign object she can by putting it in her mouth.

Seriously though, I have no idea how my sister does that all the time.

2014- The year I got back to my blog.
Watch this heartwarming story between a girl and her own self unfold as she wistfully lays out random stories onto the internet, in hopes of joining the rest of the universe in its quest to be a stahhh.

I think I feel done now. I mean, I did other things last year, but it's like when Forest Gump was done running.

Alright 2014, sorry I touched your tit.