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Yoga In our yoga class there's this one guy that is frighteningly similar to Mr. Knowitall. One day before class this guy got up and said that it was the instructor's birthday and that we were going to have a "hug line" after class for her. First of all, a "hug line"? Barforama. If it was my birthday (which it will be quite soon) and someone made me be the recipient of a hug line, I'd be pissed. Second, why is this guy arranging hug lines? What makes him so special? He's the one who exhales louder than everyone else. He's also the one who does postures before class. He's also the one who does pushups before class. He's also the one who decided last week that he needed to meditate all through class, so he didn't do what the rest of the class did. He just laid ('lay', prescriptively, but who uses lay as the past tense of 'lie'?) on his mat at the back of class, acting all spiritual and important. Like Mr. Knowitall, he is going bald, but unlike Mr. Knowitall, he doesn't have a combover. He's only bald on the top of his head, with hair encircling it like a monk. If I ever mention him again, I'll call him Monk Head, okay? Mr. Pooh bought me a yoga DVD for Valentine's Day. Isn't that sweet? I didn't get poor Mr. Pooh anything, because I am a horrible wife.
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