A Verbal Thrashing to Judgy McJudgerson in the Elevator This Morning

You know, one of my favorite episodes of Sex and the City features a pissed off Carrie Bradshaw marching through Manhattan to the Upper East side apartment of friend Charlotte York. She's pissed at Charlotte and has showed up at her door, exasperated, ready to let her have it. Charlotte can't believe she walked all the way over in her new shoes.

"These shoes pinch my feet...but I love them." - Carrie sobs, thus delivering one of the greatest lines in the whole damn series.

"I'm in a financial cul-de-sac!"

I love my high heel shoes more than human babies. Some leave my toes looking like strangled, purple sausages by the end of the night. Others are, to me, more comfortable than a pair of flip-flops anyday. I don't care how many old trolls roll their eyes in the elevator and mumble something about how when you are as busy as they are, shoes must be selected on comfort, I'm rocking my heels until they have to pry them off my dead, lifeless limbs. After which I sincerely hope rigor mortis causes me to kick that shoe thief right in the eyeball.

I'm happy that lady's Dr. Scholl's Squeegie-Sols make it even easier for her to pick up her 19 kids from soccer practice before stomping off to the airport to pick up her mother-in-law. You know what? My "stripper shoes" make every single day of my painful quarter-life crisis damn near bearable. They pinch the living daylights out of my feet, but I love the hell out of them.

On that note, its time to return to the land of functioning adults.