Starting A Hobby

I've said previously that I tend to obsess over new hobbies. What is it that ignites an obsession? To be honest I don't really know. 

Over the past year, I've taken on a couple new challenges. The first being epoxy resin. I was poking around the web one day and noticed that you can embed just about any object into epoxy resin... FOREVER. I immediately began researching how the process worked and started acquiring the right tools. After experimenting with several different options, I decided on silicone baking molds. I launched a small business that specialized in resin drink coasters. There was a two-week span where all I did in the evenings was create bottle-cap coasters. It was a huge success. The business finance side of my brain helped me get my material costs down. This provided me the sufficient revenue to avoid borrowing money. Once my basement got too cold, I was forced to stop production. 

Not being able to work with my hands on a daily basis anymore, I switched focus to making 8-bit beaded characters out of Perler beads. As a kid who spent hours playing (insert gaming system here), I find original gaming artwork fascinating. Thanks to the Interwebs, anyone can download original sprite sheets from old games. Blow those up to see each pixel, purchase 47 different colors of beads, and you'll be on your way to making awesome gaming artwork! I've had many orders for these characters and considered it another success. 

Now that the weather is nice outside again, I've turned my hobby focus back to cigars and tobacco pipes. I love sitting on the porch, sipping on coffee, and enjoying the smoke of either. I have a feeling I'll start collecting pipes one day. 

What hobbies do you have? Is there a specific thing that triggers your interests? 

Left-Handed Troubles

I'm left-handed. 

Big deal, right? Left? Bueller? Well, believe it or not, sometimes it IS a big deal. Some of you righties out there don't really understand how the other ~10% of us feel. We learn to live with your tools. We adapt to your ways. We're friggin' MacGyvers in this right-handed world.

Let's start with scissors. I'll never forget picking up a nice pair of scissors for the first time, (you know, the plastic ergonomic-grip ones) and the contour was completely ass-backwards. There were never left-handed scissors around in the school classrooms, so I had to learn how to use "normal" ones. I adapted. No big deal. 

Spiral-bound notebooks suck. They are absolutely terrible. It's nearly impossible to avoid crushing those flimsy little metal rings. Most of us lefties make Neanderthals look like Picasso. Between our bent wrists and unnatural grimaces, it's pure hell. When we DO succeed at writing in a notebook we're left with a smeared mess on the page and a palm that looks like we've been karate-chopping sh*t all day. It's ridiculous.

I gave up on looking for left-handed desks in classrooms. Instead, I'd sit with my arm flung out in the isle like a damn chicken. Taking notes with your arm held up like that for an hour and a half isn't easy. 

When I got old enough to drive a car, I realized that I needed to shift gears with my right hand. No big deal, but add it to the list. 

Custom left-handed golf clubs for kids back in the early 90s were expensive. I played baseball and was on a bowling league instead. Speaking of bowling, I've always had a wicked curve without even trying. Pretty cool stuff. 

You know those credit/debit card machines at the register? The ones where you have to sign the screen? Yeah. I hate those too. How am I supposed to give you a good signature when I CAN'T REST MY EFFING HAND ANYWHERE?! Sorry. Add it to the list.

I learned guitar "right handed". Why? Because the selection of future awesome guitars was more plentiful than for lefties. My picking always needed work, but my fretting hand was pretty solid, for obvious reasons. 

Nothing is more awkward than sitting down beside someone at a formal dinner and having food blasted off your fork by an errant right-handed elbow-to-elbow clash. I relegate myself to the walled-end of a booth. It's what I do.

I have a fondness for fountain pens and inks. I also have a fondness for keeping said ink off my hand. I'm forced to purchase inks that dry fairly quickly. That limits my choices significantly. I don't like having limited choices. 

As a lefty who enjoys shooting weapons, I have been hit in the face by hot spent ammo casings too many times to count. Bang! Ouch! Bang! Ouch!

Sorry for sounding so grumpy this morning, but it's a Monday. 

I'm proud to be a left-hander. A left-handy? A lefter? Not long ago, I would have been cast out of the village and burned to death. Okay, maybe not, but there was a time when society frowned upon our ilk. 

So for you righties out there, please take a moment to think about all the luxuries afforded to you by society. The next time you lightly and elegantly drag your pen across your notebook, remember those of us who push our writing implements, contort our wrists like freaks, and smear our palms. Take a minute and enjoy your ability to freely lift your arm to your mouth at lunch. Oh, and the next time you shake hands with someone, remember that we're having to shake with our non-dominant hand like a pansy.