... and there she goes ...

So I'm a self-admitted shoe-aholic. Not just 'shoes' but obnoxious, high-heeled, over-the-top shoes. It's a sickness and I'm dealing with it one day at a time. With the support of my family and friends, I hope to someday be able to wear sensible (albeit ugly) shoes.

Living in Northern Idaho has helped curtail my shoe buying sprees (the selection is pretty lame) ... instead of a new pair a week, I'm down to one pair every three or four months. So sad, er, I mean - isn't it great?!?! So last weekend I'd purchased what I thought to be a really great pair of fun, 'summery' shoes - a wedged, black espadrille with a closed toe ... perfect for the office. I got dressed on Monday morning in a black skirt and t-shirt and a tan jacket ... I was excited to wear my fabulous, new footwear. I looked good ... I walked out the front door of our house, waved to the bus across the street (a bus that comes to pick up my neighbor EVERY morning) ... and made my way down our front walk. As I approached the curbside grass that runs between the sidewalk and the street, the front of my shoe (I must not have accounted for the 1" platform on the front), caught the soft dirt and ... BOOM! Down I went. No, not just a little stumble, a full-on flailing of the arms, grab anything stationary, deer-in-the-headlights, Oh Crap! kinda fall. Nice. I landed on both of my knees ... when the dust finally settled, I had my arms outstretched on the side of my car ... purse and keys had taken flight and landed about five feet away. Are you kidding me? I hadn't fallen down in years ... and now, of course, I had to do it in full view of a bus full of people. I quickly gathered myself, got up and carefully shuffled to the driver side of the car. I couldn't even look at the bus. I was so embarrassed. I waited until I opened the door to look down at my skirt and survey the damage. Amazingly enough - there wasn't any! Hallelujah! I got in and shut the door - started her up and drove away ... oh my gosh. I can only imagine what I must've looked like. As soon as I made it past the bus, I started laughing uncontrollably ... it WAS funny - but humiliating all at the same time. I had to tell someone! But it was only 7:30 in the morning ... so I called Jim (who I'd just left and who was still in bed) ... and as soon as he knew I wasn't hurt, he wanted to go back to sleep. He didn't find it nearly as funny as I did! So I called my sweet sister Erin and woke her up... oops! She humored me and let me recount what had happened and got a good belly laugh out of it. She's been telling me for years that my shoes would finally do me in ... ha ha ha ... Needless to say, I haven't worn the 'ladykillers' again ... so if you're into forced humility and happen to wear a size 8-1/2 shoe ... they're ALL yours.