Well, last night sucked.

A lot.

I thought it was going to be an awesome day. I had my new dress on, I got to see my favorite friend, and I got all my work done in time to go home before my voice lesson and do a good warmup. Stuff was on track.

Then, we went to the press dinner.

I should've known something was awry. How? I don't know, but I should've. We got to the parking lot and we parked, then got in the shuttle. On the way in, I felt something give on the front of my knee.

It was my pantyhose, and my dress was knee-length. Yep. Huge run, right down the front of my hose. Good times.

Oh, but wait. It gets better. On the shuttle, we noticed all the men were in suit jackets and stuff. Let's just say we got the feeling that we were just nowhere near fancy enough, but I figured it should be okay. It was a dinner on a weeknight, and they didn't specify black tie or anything, so nice khakis and a button up should've been just fine for my husband, right?

Um, yeah.

Anyway, the shuttle dropped us off and we headed to the lady with the clipboard. She informed us that we were not part of the gathering they were having at that location. Our dinner is up the hill.

So we walked. Me, in my heels, with my messed up hose, up the hill. For like half a mile.

Aaaaaand then we got up the hill. Yep. Our feeling about everyone else being dressed real fancy was, indeed, correct.

Apparently, no one else had just come from work. It was all fancy suits and gowns and whatnot.

Great.

So we just kept walking, back to the car.

The upside was that my husband made me some delicious eggs at home, and I got to watch my shows.

But still, so embarrassing. And I ruined my pantyhose. Ugh.