Heels. Many girls' best friend. I only know them as a nemesis. Some of my most embarrassing moments have happened in heels when paired up with my lack of coordination. Many a jean pant have been severely wounded from heels' recklessness. Possibly most hurtful is their refusal to get along with my one of my close counterparts, rum. Through all our difference though, I can't help admire them for their stately beauty. While recent attempts have been made to solidify a friendship, they hadn't gone as successful as hoped. Until just the other day. A bold decision and rare decision was made on an otherwise ordinary Friday morning to wear brown pumps to work. Heels to work. Unthinkable really considering my commute consists of walking up and down two sets of steel stairs in a sea of people, as well as walking a few blocks through some busy intersections. Heels to work, as it turned out, was one of my better ideas because what I found was with the boost of height and confident stride that they lend, you can find yourself feeling quite authoritative. So I wore a different pair the next day. And another pair on another day. Walking in heels has rather quickly become a walk in the park (as long as I kept my eye out for the occasional pot hole and carpet tear). I didn't even have to compromise too much. My lack of coordination has agreed to hang tight, my jeans have given me some of their faith, and my rum-well, I have to be a loyal friend. After all, the Girl Scouts do say "make new friends, but keep the old ones."