Momma needs a brand new pair of feet.

I got to go to a fundraiser for my job at the Georgia Aquarium last night. Usually for work I wear black pants and a shirt. Recently I've been having trouble keeping my pants on at work. Which is to say I split my pants one night. I think after this my boss was a little worried about wardrobe malfunctions occurring during this high-profile event so I was pretty much threatened with my life if I didn't look good.

So I dressed up. Truth be told I looked hot but the effect was probably lost on about half the people who walked by our table. Why? Maybe it had something to do with my grimaces of pain and having to switch from dirty sex kitten heels to just plain dirty flip flops every 5 minutes so that my feet had a chance of survival.

Do Dr. Scholl's inserts really help? Because I think that instead of water-boarding terrorists or whatever awful things they do to make them talk, forcing them to slip on some imitation Jessica Simpson heels from Charlotte Russe (that were bought a few years ago at like the last minute and possibly a half size too small) and stand around in a mini dress would be enough to make any man squeal.

Also, I wore bright red lipstick. So I'm sure my blood red lips looked really attractive curled into looks of utter pain anytime I had to baby step and pray my way over to replace forks or something. Someone needs to invent training heels. Or roofies for your feet so they don't remember what you did to them all night.