Who knew a simple pair of shoes could make me so happy... I feel like a twinkly toed ballerina!

And yesterday I quite possibly made the biggest ass out of myself possible. After lunch with Adam at the nuthouse, I crossed North Jordan to ride the B-Bus to my holocaust discussion. Adam and I were discussing which color is more appropriate to wear on St. Patrick's Day (he claims since I am Catholic I should be wearing orange, not green).

To make a long story short, I was more focused on talking to Adam than getting on the bus. Stepping in, the bottom of my shoe got caught on the bus, and I fall hard onto the bus. I even slid into the poor busdriver. Also of note was the fact that the bus was about half full...

and nobody laughed. I think they all thought I hurt myself, because people came to help me up and see if I was ok. Once I was up a few people chuckled, but I fell hard, so I think they felt bad.

Where was Adam during all of this? Busy laughing at me on the curb. What a supportive, caring boyfriend I have sometimes...