Teacher, Teacher. Pick me, Teacher!

I want to learn something. It’s like a craving. A muscle that needs to be used. I didn’t know I wanted to learn something. It’s just that an opportunity came up to take a class with a friend. A last minute invite. But, alas the class was already full. And I am left wanting. So I am left scouring the internet to find any kind of a Saturday class to take. No luck. Here are the kinds of classes I was not interested in:

• Martial arts…of any kinds. This is only good on cute little kids and nice looking men. Not for middle aged women. Doesn’t look good. Doesn’t sound good.


• Housecleaning lessons….um….no thanks. Not that I couldn’t use them. But I wouldn’t use them. ‘nuff said.


• Cooking basics. I don’t want to learn the basics. I want to eat the exotic. I do love most cooking classes. But not really what I’m in the mood for. (Though cake decorating I’d take…just couldn’t find one).


• Babysitting classes. Offered to girls eleven-and-a-half and up. Hmmm. Already learned the hard way. I wouldn’t mind babysitting a baby this weekend. Breathing in baby skin and exhaling sighs. But not an answer to my class cravings.


• Pet training. OK. I need it and Satchmo needs it. But I don’t WANT it.


• Self improvement seminars….like the “How to be a better you” type. No. no. NO. Fingers in ears, humming obnoxiously. I am fifty years old. I need to fix EVERYTHING. I could be more motivated, cultivated, palliated, educated, extricated, energated (OK, I made a few of those up). But I find these kinds of classes (and books) totally demotivating. I know I could be oh-so-much a better person. But then I wouldn’t be me. So no, NO, self improvement classes are out. (Would you like me to tell you how I really feel?)


• Dancing class of some sort. Just can’t imagine taking without a partner. And then I think about the kind of guy who would agree to go to a dancing class with me and realize I wouldn’t like that kind of guy. I am not used to the kind of guy that would do something like that just for a woman he loves. And if he does it because it’s something he loves I just kind of get the feeling that he wouldn’t be good at other things that are important to me in a guy…like…you know… um…sheet dancing.
  
  What sounds better to me:
  


• Author readings


• Stand up comedy class


• Writing workshop (maybe food or travel writing)


• Acrylic painting


• Cake decorating


• Glass blowing


• Trampoline jumping


• Paper making


• Plastic surgery


• Liposuction


• Meditation retreat…where snoring is not only accepted, but encouraged


• Wine tasting


• How to make those cute little decorations like flowers and hearts in the top of my latte foam (really, I’ve been trying to figure this out for a long time. I may have to go back to Europe to get it down)


• Blogging for money

So now I have an itch. An itch for a class. Dang-nabbit. It’s a restless feeling I’m left with. I shall see how I get rid of this desire. I think a nice glass of Cabernet, or three, should do. Usually cures me of any motivation!