The Christmas before last, my parents asked me what I would like for Christmas, and I said I wanted some money towards a new winter coat. My dad reacted with fatherly concern for my financial state and my health, and if I was in need of a proper coat, he would get me one right now. So I explained that although I was warm enough in my perfectly serviceable black wool belted peacoat, I wanted a new and different black wool sashed peacoat.
On Christmas, I modeled it for my mom and Aunt April, who both enthused over the buttons and agreed that a sash instead of a belt really did make all the difference. It’s gorgeous! And my dad agreed that, yup, that’s a coat.
***
One of the things I really enjoy in Chapel Hill is going to yoga and to a dance class. That’s about the only way I actually exercise, if I’m not going to a scheduled class, I’ll wait to finish just this one thing first, and then realize that, hey, it’s been five weeks since I’ve done any exercise.
It’s a little frustrating to be struggling with poses that I could do just fine before my stupid back was hurt, but mostly it’s good to be able to stretch again.
The other day, I ran into a woman I thought I might recognize from yoga. It’s sometimes hard to recognize yoga classmates when they are wearing proper clothes, so I just nodded a little vaguely, and she did too.
“You’re in Name$’s class, right?” She said. “You’re the girl who moved here from New York?”
Oh man. How could she tell? Did I look too impatient because it was 6:04 and we were still sitting on our mats, chatting about the weather with no sign of beginning the 6 o’clock yoga class? WHICH IS WHY WE ARE ALL HERE, RIGHT?!?! SO CAN WE START NOW?!? Did I treat the changing room like a no-eye-contact subway zone, even though the changing room is still in the south and the rules about exchanging three pleasantries with each person encountered still apply? Oh no!
“Um. Yes?” I said. “How did you know?”
“Your coat.”
7 Responses to In Which I Am Fairly Shallow