Or at the very least feels like it. I'm not known for being the most graceful creature to stride the planet, though I put up a fairly great performance until the major fall. After almost a year of hiding from the world, I've spent the last few months slowly re-entering it socially. The dating debacles have been some of the most major and mind boggling as I try to understand how to cope with the simple fact that most people don't care about those around them, but sometimes it's the simplest things that make me feel like I'm trying to run in heels.

Almost kind of literally actually... I haven't had much cause to bust out the plethora of party heels I have overrunning my closet and tucked away in rolling storage under my bed, but lately I've been giving it a go. Quite frankly, I should stick to looking pretty on a pedastol. Each time I've recently worn heels to any event requiring major amounts of motion, I've ended up flat on my ass.

It's bad enough that I've been known to trip over a blade of grass while wearing flats. You can imagine the higher I go, the harder I fall. Maybe at one point in my life I could rock massive heels on sidewalks and bar tops, but perhaps I'm just not that spry anymore. It's painful to admit. I can't resume where I left off. I'm 26 and the world for me is a different place. Heels are no longer for long nights on the town, but for work and for fancy dates where it's more about an overall presentation and not a strut down the sidewalk runway.

The realization truly set in as I sat in one of my favorite downtown bars listening to a great band and watching a crowd mostly four years younger than me rock out. I should also mention I was nursing a skinned knee I sustained while touring the town's wine tasting event. Yup, dress and heels and lots of walking (and falling). I truly did not feel like I belonged. I've crossed into a different era and a different crowd, but I've yet to find what it is. Until I find it, however, I suppose I'll be stumbling in heels and hoping I find the right place with the right people before the zombie apocalypse. A down girl with a skinned knee would make a tasty treat.