and it feels just like I'm walkin' on broken glass...

Anyone else know that song?  But, seriously.
Last night was a night of celebration for one of my best friends.  She is taking the dive into thirty and last night was to be a pub crawl in Fanuiel Hall.

Before said crawl, I taught my dance classes, ran some errands and was cleaning up and doing stuff around the house.  I had on my music pretty loud and there may have been dancing.  I was plotting my outfit for the night which was going to include a fantastic pair of shoes that has only made it out of the house one other time.  Trust me when I say they are ridiculous.  At just about 5'9, I have no business or need for shoes this high.  They are strappy and black and probably say a lot of things about me that I am not...they may have zippers and some sort of tassles.  I love them.  Anyways.

So, I was alone in the house.  I had pulled out the full length mirror for when Siobhan and I were going to get ready..and I *may* have decided to dance in front of it, perhaps to practice my moves for the night.  (Hey!  I was alone!)
I should now tell you that during a storm the other day a vase that was next to my bed met it's demise with a gust of wind shattering it to a million tiny pieces on my hardwood bedroom floor.  I thought I had swept up all the bits of glass...
When I stepped up to the mirror for my dance solo...I realized I was wrong.  I felt the unmistakable stab of a tiny piece of glass in my foot.
I immediately remembered a story I think my best friend told me-- that one of her relatives got glass in his blood stream and it went to his heart and killed him.  Naturally, I am sure death is imminent.  Maybe I have about ten minutes left to live.  I want to cry.
I pulled out the tweezers got a flashlight and tried to coax it out.  A little bit of blood and no relief later I called it quits as I had to shower. I got ready to go out and by the time I was done, there were troops at my house.

Enter my surgical team:  Siobhan and her friend who had just finished 2 pitchers of beer over a late lunch, and my favorite carpenter.  (We were all going together to the crawl in the hall.)
I told my team about my foot, I had told my favorite carpenter (from now on referred to as MFC) that he could not look at my foot..they were badly in need of a pedicure.  However, by the time Siobhan and her friend arrived on the scene, I was really concerned about my shoe situation and the dancing.  I couldn't dance like this, or really walk normally.
Before I knew it my foot was up on our kitchen island a flashlight was out and my super buzzed roomate had a pair of tweezers on my foot.  It was not working.  Also, why was I letting drunk people get up in my feet?  This is when MFC decided he was going to take over, this is when I decided that was a good idea.  Until he said what he needed was a utility knife.  Apparently as confirmed by Siobhan's friend..that's what guys do.
Thank God we didn't have a utility knife I thought.  That is so not happening.
That's when Siobhan pulled one out of our drawer.  Great.
This is also when I realized I really trust MFC. I mean, as he sat there slicing chunks out of my foot in search of the piece of glass there has to be a level of trust.
He got my foot to a place where I was sure the glass was out.
I sorta felt like he saved me life... you know.. 'cause I was dying and all.
This morning when I stepped out of bed, I felt that nasty little stab again.  This is a case for my mother who prescribed a soak with salt, and some tape to try and grab it.  Again, my foot feels OK.
So, if you are wondering here is what you need to get glass out of your foot:

1.  A utility knife
2.  MFC (or someone similar who knows how to work it)
3.  Some rubbing alcohol to sterilize the tools
4.  2 drunk roomates/friends
5.  Salt
6.  Tupperwear with warm water
7. Packing tape.

I'm hoping I won't lose my foot after infection sets in.