Too much time

This recent, solitary three-day weekend has highlighted my predicament. I either need friends, a hobby, or both. I left Texas on purpose when I graduated from law school. For some reason, I thought I would have the same kind of social support system I did in Texas. Or that it would be relatively easy to build such a support system. Not so much. Now I am faced with a conundrum I have only heard about and never experienced: making friends in a new city as a working adult. I think my sister is currently experiencing the same thing since most of her friends from dental school have moved and she works in a small office. She runs with a woman from the office, but this woman refuses to call her by her first name, insisting on calling my sister "doctor." I tend to agree with my sister that someone who will only call you "doctor" can't for sure be on the friends list.

I haven't ever really had hobbies. Unless drinking with your girlfriends counts. But I don't have girlfriends here, so drinking as a hobby would involve me drinking alone. I think that's called a disease. I have been thinking that maybe I can find an art class to take - maybe meet some people and learn what it means when people use the word "perspective" when talking about art. I always wanted to take an art class in college, but since I have no artistic talent to speak of, I was worried I would fail such a class. Do college art classes give A's for effort?

I'll do some investigating and figure this out. There has to be a better way of spending my time than watching entire seasons of Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team and House of Carters. Of course, watching House of Carters made my appreciate my own family: decidedly messed up, but in a safe, middle America kind of way. Those Carters are really fucked up. It is entirely possible that this feeling will pass and I'll end up spending my year here like I did in Austin: sitting on my ass, perfecting the butt-groove in my couch.