When you’re not looking…

If you’re lucky enough to have had it happen to you, you will totally recognize the feeling I will try to describe for those of you have not- there are butterflies in my stomach and a smile on my toe cap, that I can. not. stop. For real. It’s borderline awkward. Everything is beautiful and lovely and all possibilities are, well, possible. I know what you’re thinking too, “someone got purchased”. Nope. I am still here, on clearance. The difference from yesterday- I kinda wanna stay now.

Last night, on my way to the dance floor, I ran into one of my new friends. She isn’t on clearance, but her rack is directly across the aisle from ours. She’s awesome, I doubt she’ll be here long enough to ever be marked down- size 6 ballet flats, tangerine in color with a medallion at her throat. Side note: I love jewelry. I just can’t carry it off, I think I am too sporty, but I am totally getting off track 😉

tangerine TB ballet flats

Anyway, Torie was having a Mexican-themed shindig (I know, I didn’t really get it either, its not even May 5th, but I am not one to say no when an event is focused around margaritas!) and I said that I would, at the very least, stop by.

So, I get there and its all quartets. Sigh. I feel crap enough being on clearance, I didn’t need to add a whole other dimension to my lack of self esteem. I mean, everyone was nice and all, but who wants to be the only single pair of shoes at a party? Not this pair. I decide that I would enjoy my margarita -frozen, salted, perfect, and partake of an enchilada. I’d mingle a bit and then head out. Simple enough, right? Except that the margaritas were slightly too perfect to stop at one and the enchiladas? Torie’s guy may be a pair of boring black Sketchers, but man, he definitely knows his way around a kitchen. I wound up staying a little longer than originally planned and all of sudden, I realized I was not the only pair of shoes sans date/spouse. Somehow, I had missed his entrance but right there in front of me was the cutest pair of sneakers I had ever laid eyelets on. And maybe it was the tequila, but suddenly, I was feeling weak in the arch.

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