By: Gabriela Yareliz
I was on the train (naturally— when am I not?), and I saw an ad for a new Hobby Lobby in Tribeca. This is not a drill! We have a Hobby Lobby. Hobby Lobby reminds me of my days in Gainesville. I love the smell in there.
We love Hobby Lobby in the South. *Cue Hobby Lobby Bobby by Bobby Bones* We write songs about this place.
You know I am going to need to visit. Can you imagine this winter wonderland in the midst of abandoned and vacant storefronts?
Hmmm. This sounds like it sparks joy— the kind of joy that comes through Toby Robbins breath work.
I have a growing obsession with all things making-a-home. It’s a growing internal vibe I need to externalize. I blame Pinterest and healing my hormones (a day-to-day maintenance, as one has never arrived). A weird juxtaposition to my Fight Club/Sopranos persona on the trains.
I do just want to walk down aisles of crafts, ribbons, wrapping paper and art that belongs in a 2006 home. That sounds like fun. It sounds peaceful. A perfect pastime for an exhausted person.
Part of me is a little scared to go to this new store. I am scared it will be ransacked and look like a war zone like most NYC stores and pharmacies. No inventory. No beauty. No inspiration. Just padlocks and bare shelves. Hoping that is not the case, and it at least looks like Michael’s. That’s the thing— Hobby Lobby attracts a certain type of person. Crafty. Think Jessica Day from New Girl. Maybe the thugs aren’t into jacking garlands yet…
Call me Hobby Lobby Gabby because Hobby Lobby, I am coming for you. Going to plan my field trip.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 