Yoga last night was terrible, I was ultra shaky and weird - not sure why...but I feel like crap about it - and then I had to go to my St. Andrew's Caledonian Society meeting which lasted for-ev-er. Every month there is this lady there and all she does is talk and talk and argue. Everyone else and I were exchanging horified "holy crap is this lady ever going to shut the hell up?" looks during her tirade about mailing out a questionaire about the approval of the group's crest. Last month it took almost an hour to get the wording corect for the motion to give some calgary tartan fabric to a dance school to make mini kilts. Brutal I tell you - brutal!
The only saving grace of the evening was the yummy yummy snack we get at tea time after the meeting (remember these folks are scottish - and therefore make the yummiest snacks). During tea time I got to talking to the husband and wife team that teach dancing on wednesday nights. Now, before I go oon let me explain that they are an older couple - in the 70's at least and are SUPER scottish and adorable. Knowing that I can continue explaining my conversation. We were discussing the fact that the tartans one wears to a Scottish Ball do not have to match (you and your escort) which was news ot me because previously I had thought it a huge faux pas to intermingle the tartans....anyhoo the conversation steered around to the fact that I was wearingmy yoga pants tot he meeting as I had just finished yoga and my dance teacher (his name is John) encouraged me to wear them to dancing to. I explained that they were too long to dance in (we dance in gillies or ballet slippers) and that I would trip and fall. His wife (Jessie) replied that I should roll them up over my knees, to which I laughed and said I would look awfully funny. John pipes in just here with his adorable scottish burrr and explains that he is very excited about the prospect of spying some leg (remember that he is older). I laughed at this and suggested that maybe next weke I should show up in my mini kilt! Needless to say he was very excited about that suggestion. Old scottish men are so cute - I just love them!
After this I went home to make up some vegetable quiche cups to go for my breakfasts and didn't actually make it asleep until after 12:30, thus this morning when I pried my eyes open at 6:45am I almost cried because I was sure I hadn't slept yet. However, here I am at work struggling to funciton despite the yummy eggnog latte that I made myself and dimly thinking of the detox, and blood donation that I must attend ot after work - but at least it's thursday and thus Grey's is on tonight. YEAH!
2 comments:
you call them cute old men, i call them dirty old men...same difference. (until they turn into groundskeeper willy that is)
Yeah, I see your point, but this was in front of his wife of many many years and we all laughed about it - plus he has the best accent (Glaswegan)
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