I'm working on an update.....

Until then....Adios!

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?...

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. 

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!