It’s nice to see Converse redesigning their shoes. I was thinking about somebody who used to wear those shoes a lot. Anyway I like to write to this person and I was planning to write them an email about how I’ve been frustrated with my secret hobby. I had previously told them that some of the other hobbyists I talk to give me plenty of material. This person is a writer too so they understand what I’m talking about.

I just need a breather.

Anyway I thought about it with the 3 classes I signed up for if I do get back to school. Even if I do have to start from scratch I don’t mind I don’t want to be a journalist. I’ll see a counselor later since I would be taking no classes related to my major anyway this semester.

Those hobbyists are so bossy! With big egos to boot! Egos the size of Jupiter. That is a pretty huge thing. Anyway I was told to change my major the audacity of them!

The hobbyists don’t like that I’m doing it differently. So I might not be good with the other aspects of the secret hobby, but after I thought about it the answer was in my face all along! Writing! I come from a writing hobbyist background, so that makes me a little different in how I approach it.

When I have to clean I hope I don’t lose the new thing I bought. I already lost the important thing I really need that is driving me nuts cause I lost it. Seriously I tore apart my closet to find that thing. (and still haven’t)

*screams in blog*

See? You didn’t have to hear the screaming. It’s implied.

Then my mom found out that I lost that thing and she made a big deal out of it. She wondered why I needed that thing and why was it so important, but I didn’t want to say.


*bangs head against wall*

She told me I’m not on Finders Keepers. (nice retro reference there.)

So I still look like I’m not doing anything about my hobby. And it was bothering me until I thought about George Costanza and what he would do in a situation like this. Obliviously he would resort to a crazy scheme. (the blog title is a reference to this) Two years ago I did another George Costanza scheme.

“The Jerk Store called…”

So my dad wanted to meet some celebrity. But he didn’t do any research about the event besides reading about it in the newspaper. He didn’t know what you needed to do, if he had to buy anything, or even if he needed to line up early. If I had done that he would have yelled at me. It was a good thing I didn’t go, and well I didn’t wanna. It was no celebrity I was interested in.