I may or may not have mentioned before that I happen to be an assistant. Actually, I have five bosses, if we want to get really technical about it. Sure, it sounds like a lot, but I have it down to a science. Or perhaps my bosses just don't require that much of me. Take your pick.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeenyway, some of my wonderful co-workers/staff brought me THE bestest gifts EVAH today - shoe crack. Oh yes. I admit it. I have a problem. A high-heeled, open-toed, b-e-a-utiful problem called shoes. Shoes, shoes, glorious shoes! And I am now the proud owner of $170 worth of plastic, cue-the-angelic-choir, pure heaven in my wallet, shoe-purchase-enabling, do the happy shoe dance, glorious cold plastic shoe cash. And I will soon be the proud owner of some sparkly, smell-that-faux-leather, new collectible beauties for my shoe cabinet.
For you see, aside from the plastic-glorious-plastic shoe cash, I've recently retired a number of pairs of My Pretties. Some are going to better homes and a few were sent to a tearful grave as I literally wore them out. But as an eternal optimist of the shoeless mind, I have merely begun my search for the next set of Pretties to fill the voids on the shelves. And filled, my friends, those voids shall be come Friday night when I join My Girls for a fantastic evening that we so lovingly have coined Margaritas and Shoes.
But this week, rather than sneaking my shoes in the door at home one pair at a time, I will proudly prance in and put them on display in runway fashion as a) I didn't spend our money, honey and b) babe, I'm not banning any of your shoes to the hiding place under the stairs this time b/c I have roooooooooom to fill on my shelves!
Now everyone say a little prayer that my favorite shoe store doesn't fail me like it did the last time the girls met for Margaritas and Shoes when I left with