Remember a few months back, when I was all into the spinning and animal fiber fair-ing? (It's okay if you don't - I won't be offended.) Well, the friend that I took that class with has continued to spin - she even got a spinning wheel for Christmas, AND she somehow got sucked into the local Spinning Guild. Yes, there are guilds for things like spinning (and knitting, and weaving, and pot-holder-making... well, maybe not the pot-holders).
Through circumstances beyond her control, Heather had to host the local guild meeting today. (Yeah. Weird.) I agreed to attend to provide some moral support for her.
That's how I ended up attending the montly Spin Off today.
To blatantly generalize here, spinners tend to be... older. Poorly dressed. Cat people.
Don't get me wrong - they are interesting and sweet people, too, but not generally people that I'd call up when I'm, you know, well, alive.
So, when one lady - dressed in a huge flannel button down shirt over a huge turtleneck and black, tapered jeans that were folded up an inch at the bottom - mentioned something about her son being the child of a pediatrician, I just assumed that her husband was the doctor. Wrong!
Thankfully, I hadn't said anything before she clearly identified herself as the doctor (she did so several times...). I still felt really guilty automatically assuming that the male was the doctor. Hello? Me? Pediatrician-to-be? Yeah. I guess something about the spinning guild threw me back a few decades. That, plus the horrible outfit. I expect professionals to be able to dress...professionally. Despite the tapered jeans...geez, Brenna, what's the matter with you?
After the Spin Off, I went to the Y, because it is Sunday. Swimming Day. I always mean to go swimming on Sundays, anyway. Haven't done it in, oh, five months. The first swim after a long break like this is always difficult. It took me almost an hour to really get my 'fins' back. Though, I've never really been much of a fish in the water when it comes to swimming laps. More like a starfish - I like to cling to the wall.
The reason I'm telling this horribly boring story, is that while I was swimming, something amusing happened. I was splitting a lane with some guy, as was the girl one lane over. Towards the end of my swim, my lane-splitting guy, and the other-lane girl started flirting. In the pool. Pool flirting! I've never seen such a thing before in my life! I just kept swimming between them...
Part of the reason I love the Y so, is that it is very low key. I can always go there knowing that I won't be the most out-of-shape person there. And, I can go wearing my junky, smelly old work-out things because it is not a meat market.
But apparently the pool is.
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