Red satin platform heels. Conga Line. Me. Wyclef Jean.

Yesterday was the annual all-employee meeting for a certain four-ringed auto brand. While I was interested in the content, I had to struggle at times to keep from nodding off since I hate sitting still. Now I know why school was so excruciating for me and everyone who tried to make me go.

No chance of that last night at the "celebratory event" at the Mellon Auditorium. For one thing, my feet hurt too much. For another, there was this... which isn't something a chick from the sticks gets to see every day. (How many table dancers can you spot?)


The evening's entertainment was Wyclef Jean. My camera isn't that fancy, so I was really this close. I got even closer when he cut in in front of me in the conga line.



Part of the entertainment for everyone but me was seeing if I could dance in these beauties, or even walk in them after a couple of drinks. And with them on, I was one of the tallest people at the party so I was hard to miss. This morning at breakfast people kept asking me how my feet were feeling, and they felt like they had been crammed into a sandpaper ice-cream-cone.

We had a great time so the pain was worth it, although it is theoretically possible to have a great time without awesome shoes. Rob came downtown to attend the party with me and spend the night (like almost everyone at the party) at The Fairmont. We definitely need to attend another event at the Mellon. So much culture, so little time.