Thursday, March 8, 2012

DOORS

Have you ever thought about the number of times you open and close doors? Have you tried to discover what it represents in your life? Have you ever reminisced the feeling of turning that knob and walking into a completely different world in a matter of seconds? Seemingly irrelevant to most people; after all, it’s simply a door.  Yet doors play a bigger role than you think, and passing through one affects you more than you imagine. 
Sometimes these abstract doors, these pieces of wood or glass, are influential and hold a substantial weight in your journey.  I’ve crossed a variety of doors in my lifetime.  It’s obvious I still have a billion more.  The first doorway I was ever able to open. Poor Lisa dropping me off at school for the first and last time.....being 8th grade and pretty much a threat!  Crawling through mom and dad’s doorway at midnight (like a soldier in the trenches) to curl up on their floor, safe from all the vampires and psycho killers stalking me at age 10.  My baptism.  Walking through the gym door of my first cheerleading tryout.  The first door a boy ever held open for me as a gentlemanly gesture.  Departing KMart to fall upon my Molly.  My entrance into college.  The Uhauls.  Stepping out of the New York airport into the city that never sleeps.  The last time I closed and locked my third grade classroom door.  The door I shut each time I leave home.  The doorway to my heart. 
Doors doors doors.  They’re everywhere!   


Blue Doors.  I’m fascinated with them.  The peeling paint, aged rotting wood, the design detail, the knobs that have grasped so many unfamiliar hands with a purpose, the sounds and hushed words once spoken just on the other side, the secrets they hide.  While perusing the great web world, I stumbled upon photos of blue doors.  (I was in search of a new computer background - working hard, yes)  Obsession quickly followed.  I want, I need an old blue door.  I began searching for an old Moroccan blue door.  A question I found myself asking was, Why blue? Don’t get me wrong - I think blue is fantastic, but green can be soothing, red is spicy, and yellow is heart warming.  What is so darn special about blue? .......Bet you didn’t know blue doors are thought to repel evil.  It is a frequent custom in North Africa and Mediterranean areas.  Guess they happen to be a bit more superstitious than Americans.  


Outward.  In the U.S. all doors open inward.  Probably something you’ve never paid much attention to; I haven’t.  In Sweden exterior doors open outward.  Reason being - to keep snow out.  Houses are also built on higher foundations to prevent residents from being “snowed in.”  An image most Texans will have a difficult time conjuring up.  Does this mean you could never kick in a door in Sweden.  I wonder if they have lower crime rates? :)     


Foot-in-the-Door.  A phrase we all use.  A marketing technique, in fact.  What can I get? Where can I get? What will you do for me? That “Door” seems pretty critical in this overused expression. An introduction into something or with someone, with the hopes of progression to follow after that first monumental step.


Dreams.  We’ve all seen doors in films featuring visions at the brink of death. A pristine white door awaiting you in a cerulean blue sky.  I, myself, have never had a dream centered on a door.  A good thing perhaps?... Of course some scientist, therapist, physic, i.e. nerd has attempted to delve into the meaning of the Door of Reverie.  I was curious what they might say.  Some believe if a door opens outward, it may show you need to more accessible to others. Go out into the world! Do something! An inward opening door may represent the need for inner exploration.  A locked door essentially represents the past.  What you’re leaving behind.  What you can’t let go of.  Last, A revolving door. A sign you’re basically going nowhere.  And dizzy!



Slammed. Shut in your face.....that one pretty much explains itself. 


But what about those spiritual doors? The ones God opens and closes around us all the time.  His power truly amazes me.  His doors are always mysterious, mischievous, scary, overwhelming, and more of a jump than the literal ones we enter and exit each day. I have not understood all the doors He’s opened and closed in my life, but I can assure you, it all serves a purpose (one I wish I knew ahead of time), and eventually becomes clear in a heavenly way.    
Ultimately, a door is a possibility.  Willingly or unwillingly, a change is about to take place.  Sometimes unbeknownst, sometimes in fear or bliss, sometimes you are just shoved right through, sometimes we stand in the middle and pace for a while, and sometimes you find something sweeter than honey, greener than grass, waiting for you on the other side.  
“I know your works. See, I have set before you an open door, and no one can shut it; for you have a little strength, have kept My word, and have not denied My name.
Revelation 3:8 
I like to think of God’s plan for my life as a series of doorways I will enter and exit through.  The hardest part is learning patience and having the faith to keep moving forward....even if the door is old, deteriorated, and blue.



Monday, March 5, 2012

Catch Up!

Man, I am behind! Last week was busy for me - just like I like it :) This is going to be more of a picture log than anything, but hey, pictures are more fun anyway!

Monday and Tuesday I spent out and about with Ericka and her friend, Julia.  Julia is Lamar Odom's yoga instructor and as cute as can be.  Yes, she came all the way to Dallas to do ONE yoga session.  Maybe I should start rethinking my career? Flying all over to teach yoga sounds like a pretty kush job and I have a little bit of that free spirit in me. :)  




Thursday evening was spent watching men strut down a red carpet with hopes of being sold for more than $50.00.  Quite entertaining to say the least!  Our friend Holly ended up with one herself - Super nice guy who had us laughing the second we met him.  In case you're wondering, yes I did make one bid, but was not a winner.  That's ok though - as Lisa would say, I don't need to be buying my dates. Plus I'd much rather have a pair of shoes! Man vs Shoes. Hmmm... SHOES!





With the sun beaming and Jefferson Starship blasting through my speakers (Runaway no doubt), I made my way south Friday afternoon.  A relaxing evening with the rents, too much Mexican food, and a cup full of Neopolitan ice cream (heavy on the strawberry) while Mom and I watched 
Say Yes To The Dress in bed was just what I needed.  

Saturday evening melted away in Rockport with great friends and family.  Celebrating Mr. Burdge's 50th was a BLAST! My dancing shoes definitely met their quote for a good while. 









I'm such a blessed gal! 

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Who needs chocolate on Valentine's Day?


                 Living in Dallas has taught me a few things: BIGGER is Better!  I’m not just referring to hair.  I’ve also discovered/been told quite frankly, a few survival tactics which must be employed in order to appear “normal” and not that of a “Gold Digger”: Never ask what someone (mainly men) does for a living or the type of vehicle they possess, especially when out mingling in the Uptown vicinity.  While someone’s occupation is normally the first question that pops in my head, Hello! I’d like to know if you’re cleaning carpets or working as a magician!, it’s apparently regarded as pretentious and frowned upon.  I don’t have a problem answering that question, I work for lawyers and make a pittance compared to you, but I’m no longer allowed unless asked first…according to Ericka.  (I don’t always follow my new “rule of thumb” and take pleasure in watching her squirm and grimace.)  In addition to dating lingo, you MUST be physically active or you’re instantly cast as the hermit or someone suffering from leprosy.  Everywhere you look, and I mean EVERYWHERE, there is someone exercising.  Women here regard chicken fried steak and red velvet cake as the almighty evil and likely have phobias of being forced to eat the stuff.  I must admit I eat fairly healthy, but certainly do not have a problem eating both in one sitting and then asking if I can have the crumbs to go. 
Alas I have succumbed to the pressure of being perfectly fit in this image-grueling, elastic-wearing, fitness-donning, carbless city.  Next thing I know - tanning beds will be my third home.  Last week I joined Gold’s Gym….again.  (My attempts in college were mildly successful.)  If that wasn’t enough of a push, I hired a trainer for the next four months.  Figured if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right (i.e. along with a normal workout, having my butt kicked twice a week).  Bikini season! Bikini season! Bikini season!  I’d like to think that I’ve done fairly well since my Thursday registration.  I made it to an early workout Saturday morning and left with a BEAT-red face and my tail between my legs.  The realization of being completely out of shape sucks! Monday morning I worked through an hour long cardio session at 6 a.m.  And in the wee hours of Valentine’s Day I began my first training session with Lindsey.  Nice girl, more of a body builder physique than a Sports Illustrated model (She rowed in college), but I was told she’s one of the best in the gym.  She asked what my goals were. To avoid arguments with my mother come swimsuit time. Ok maybe so, but my response was to feel good in a bikini in 3 months.  This conversation also included my educating her on the Hammack/Staff butt I suffer from.  I huffed and puffed through the lunges, squats, crunches, leg pulls, push-ups and more during my assessment, all the while knowing this morning would be complete torture.  Attempting to wash my hair minutes after the workout nearly brought me to tears.  And so it was…..my legs are moving as though I’ve recently dismounted a horse.  Needless to say, I did not make it to a 6 a.m. workout today.
There’s always tonight.  Tomorrow morning Lindsey will be back to whipping me and my butt (They really are two separate forces) in to shape.  Who needs Valentine’s chocolate or yummy cocktails anyway? Right?...

Thursday, February 9, 2012

GIANTS win XLVI!

I spent this years Super Bowl game with the Wlazlowski family, a huge GIANTS fan base.  The pictures speak for themselves. 

My favorite couple.  Amber & Greg 



Greg and his brother Eddie 


Jack & Wilson




Touchdown! 

Greg and his father. 

Even Amber's shoes match.  Of course. 

Serious tension growing. 

Giants win! 


Touchdown 4th Quarter! 



Eddie won the betting board. 


Amber and Ben.

Wlazlowski brothers. 


Sunday, February 5, 2012

Life Update!

I’ve been a pretty busy girl the last week - always a great thing! 



A good majority of my time is spent with Ericka, who came on board at the firm about two weeks after I started.  She’s usually my “wing girl” most nights out.  I was pleasantly surprised to hear she is a Dwight Yoakam fan, and even more surprised to hear he would be playing at Billy Bob’s in Fort Worth, Saturday, January 28th.  We pulled on our boots and headed to Cow Town for a grand ole boot scootin time.  Our night began with good barbeque and an ice cold beer! 






The concert was great and Billy Bob’s was packed wall to wall.  




There are many things I enjoy about Ericka. She's a hoot! She can muster up a completely fictional story in seconds that comes off realistic and passes with most (i.e. People actually believe she swam across the Gulf of Mexico to come to Texas - She was born in Dallas).  This little talent comes in handy when your boss is suddenly walking around the corner and she immediately spits out, "So were you able to order those copies for me, Morgan?"  Best of all, she makes friends with everyone she meets - bartenders, custodians, lawyers, the list goes on.  It may be through a louder method than most, but she pulls it off.  We made friends two weeks ago with a Mavs season ticket holder.  Voila - a game on the books.  Wednesday night was spent in 1st level seats, screaming for the Dallas Mavericks.  They might have lost, but Ericka and I won out on that deal! 




If you dress like an idiot, you get in for free.  = Green guy. 


Above: Ericka and Roddy
Below: Tim, myself, Ericka and Roddy 



Completely Random: Ostrich egg anyone? My employer has them on his ranch and brought one in to the office.  I knew an ostrich can be a pretty ruthless bird, but had no idea they will actually try to attack you.  I learned laying flat on the ground is the only way to really protect yourself.  They can't kick down, only out.  My immediate question was.....But don't you eventually have to stand up? Then what? ......  The five pound egg is now sitting in my fridge while I ponder what on earth to do with it.  Ebay? $$$.... Wash out the insides and display? .... Or actually try and cook this bad boy? I was told it's equivalent to 1-2 dozen chicken eggs.  "Ostrich egg for one, please!," isn't sounding all that well.  Hmm....I’ll let you know!