I own a lot of shoes... many beautiful, fancy, nearly un-wearable shoes. And while I'm in the confessing mood, I'll add that I also have a lot of clothes, many of which hang in my closets with their original tags. A friend, recently viewing my closets for the first time, exclaimed "This is like sex in the city!!". I laughed at the comment, and explained, "Actually, it's more like sexless in the suburbs". Funny, but true. 

You see, I'm single... very single. Read: no action at all. So all my party dresses and kicky shoes lie in wait for me to get a life, or at least a date. My life is full with building and managing the businesses I birthed, loving and raising my wonderful daughter, and a variety of responsibilities and activities.  The men just haven't gotten their own slot. 

Now I would like to invite them in. I'd like to wear lipstick and a sexy bra and feel delicious, desirable, and all grown up. I'd like to ponder over the decision of the perfect shoes to wear. I'd like to see a man catch his breath when I appear. Mostly I'd like to just exhale, relaxing in the loving, caring arms of my beloved. He won't have to compete one bit with Jimmy, Manolo, or Calvin.