My lovely golden wedge shoe from the cute little shoe shop I have mentioned so many times you must think they are giving me a discount. Oh, I wish! Very dangerous party shoes, as they always get me in a good mood, they look cool, AND you are able to walk properly in them - in spite of being slightly intoxicated. At least you THINK you walk like a model on the catwalk, while IN REALITY, you walk like a COW. In heels.
I guess I should not really go into detail about last night. We were having a really quiet night in, when some of Mr. Incredible's old team mates from his handball team (we are talking some time just after the war here) suddenly called to tell us they were having a small gathering. In Oslo. And that they had champagne.
Blimey.
I never learn.
My hair hurts.
I am never going to touch that stuff again.
It was fun though. I think.
Anyway, I blame it all on the shoes. Totally.
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