Break Dancing

All of these magazines whose advice I normally ignore have been urging me to break in my wedding shoes pre-wedding. This time I was thinking: you know, aching feet is no way to spend any day, so why not, right? What else am I going to be doing with my feet?

I hardly ever wear high heels though and I'm not sure if the reason is really the effect; it might actually be the cause of why I don't wear them that often. You see, when I wear sparkly high heels, I feel an immediate urge to act like a Rockette or something. In my complete ensemble of t-shirt and shorts and high heels yesterday, I treated Matt to a rousing renditions of "Surrey with the Fringe on Top" and "Oklahoma" followed in short order with "Hernando's Hideaway." I included jazz hands, interpretive charades and copious kicks with a smattering of tap dancing. I then finished up with a series of ill-hatched high kicks (lots of enthusiasm, but not a lot of altitude you know) before Matt had to excuse himself to the outdoors to break from my musical theater hijinks.

I think I've worried him. You see, I will be wearing these shoes at our wedding. When we recite sacred vows. When we agree to cherish each other for a lifetime. And when we recess to greet our friends and family as Mr. and Mrs. Us. Will I high-kick and judo chop my way through this very special day? I really can't say--the shoes have all the power. But, in the event that I turn my own wedding in to a hoedown, I will at least take requests. Fair enough?