Lesson Learned

Just returned from New Orleans after attending our regional conference. Got some really good and informative material,  spent a little time with some of my favorite people, met some  new TRiO friends and had some really, really good food.

And broke a shoe.

Went to Bourbon Street with some friends one evening wearing my dancing shoes. I can dance all night in heels.  In fact, I don't think I've ever gone out in anything but heels. But not this night. I thought I was having trouble walking because the brick sidewalks. When we started dancing my feet were killing me and I had trouble dancing. Like real trouble. I just really couldn't dance. Not that I dance all that great to begin with but it just wasn't right. I tried to move my hips but it just ended up wobbly instead. It was ugly and my feet were killing me so I went back to my room. 

The next day I noticed my shoe looked off.  I picked it up and my heel had broken in half. In half. The material had kept it enclosed, which is lucky because otherwise I would have been hobbling all over New Orleans.  Poor, poor stilettos - they finally crumbled under the pressure. It's not an easy job for little heels to support so much weight but they were good to me and got me though  many, many nights of dancing. Hated to lose those shoes.

On the flight home I heard a voice say "Did you enjoy the SWASAP conference?" It was the guy in front of me. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses but I was sure I hadn't met him. This isn't surprising though - my height kinda makes me memorable. Some women are remembered for their beauty or their intellect...I'm remembered for my stature. *Sigh

So we start visiting and when I mistake him for someone that was recognized with an award at the conference he informs me that I'm mistaken, he's was the guy that feel down the stairs.  When I indicated I hadn't heard about that he was surprised and said it was really embarrassing.

That's embarrassing?

No.  Standing up in front of a room full of your colleagues to correct something only to discover that you're the one that's wrong - that's embarrassing. I should know, I did it.

I don't know why but as we get older, we become really self-conscience about being wrong.  We stop raising our hands in class because we're so afraid to give the wrong answer.  We're no longer brave enough to venture a guess.  And because of this fear, sometimes things are done incorrectly but no one will say anything because what if they are...*cue suspenseful and foreboding music...WRONG!

And I'm TOTALLY part of that group. I mean, who wants to look like they don't know? But I did know. I was sure.  I served as Secretary for our state organization for four years and knew how it was suppose to be done - I typed the minutes to record that it was done. So when I saw it wasn't being done correctly I couldn't not say anything. We needed to do it right.

Except, it wasn't right. What I knew...I didn't really know at all because it was wrong. Oh. My. God. Now that's embarrassing.  I tried to will my body not to turn four shades of red as I stood there wanting to melt.

Yay for not being able to keep my big fat mouth shut!

And I totally revoke #14 from my last list. I crawled up in my husband's lap and totally came on to him but was blown off for a show about a bunch of hillbillies that make moonshine. I've been gone 4 days - four days -  and you would rather watch tv? I mean, I know it's absolutely riviting to watch grown men in overalls run through the woods but...really? 

Of course, he's been a single Dad for the last few days and I know he's worn out. I can actually hear him snoring from the couch now....but if he tells me he has a headache next time I'm gonna worry!