Happy New Year! Where's the booze?

Well hello there. How are you? Miss me?

So, I'm being a little less than honest when I say that I've tried to be diligent with the blogging. It's been kind of a rocky year. But I came through, happily, unscathed. On to better things.

The cruise is coming up (roaring up more like), and still not beach body ready, but I'm attempting to get closer to my goal after a prolonged plateau. But I'm sick of talking about weight loss, so let's talk about something else.

How about how I learned I might be a bulldog in the right situation? It turns out that I can be fiercely loyal and can't stand it when others are mistreated. That's a recipe for potential disaster in the workplace. Let me elaborate:

My co-worker, who is also my friend, was very wrongly coached (that's Wal-Mart speak for being written up) for not doing something that she DID do. I can't go into details due to proprietary info and the like. Suffice it to say that she did the work she was supposed to, then coached for not doing it by our overzealous (and really quite young and potentially immature) new manager. Despite the plethora of evidence to the contrary, she went ahead and coached my friend anyway. Now, even though she's a lot older than our manager, my friend is rather shy and timid, so she didn't defend herself. I couldn't abide this sort of treatment, so I offered my vociferous objection (angrily might I add). Granted, I didn't get in trouble, but I think it's obvious that she knows that I have very little respect for this manager (who I will call AMB). I'm sorry, but if you are going to step on people, make quick and unwarranted accusations, you better be ready for those consequences. This is the second time this has happened around me. The next time, I'm going over her head.

Now, on to a little year in review.

I did quite a bit of family history research this year, and because of this, I've been in contact with several distant cousins. It turns out, my fifth great-grandfather on my dad's side was a British Loyalist who was enlisted with the British army and ended up being run out of what became the US and ended up in Canada. So, that's why my paternal grandfather's family was from Canada. Some interesting history on my mom's side too. My sixth great-grandfather was a master on a sloop that traveled to the West Indies during the American Revolution to procure salt. His son fought in the War of 1812 and is believed to have died from either an injury sustained during the war or an illness that he caught during that time. He died before he met his youngest son, my fourth great-grandfather, as he was born after that.

I think that the most interesting thing that I've taken from all this searching is that I had no idea how extensive my family's history in this country was. I guess I always thought that because of the few branches that I knew came over in the latter part of the 19th century, that my whole family hadn't been here that long. It turns out that I have pilgrims on both sides of my family, with one, that I know of, being a founding member of a church that started in Rhode Island and a couple of its towns. Who knew?

I never knew my great-grandfather Betts' first name because he was estranged from the family, and I was able to locate that and learn so much of my family as a result. I never knew that another great-grandfather had siblings (all sisters) and that they were older than him and had families that I may be able to track down if I get ambitious enough. I was even able to locate his parents' and oldest sister's voyage from Bohemia to the US.

It turns out it takes a lot of people to make you - parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great-grandparents, etc. Double the amount with each generation back. It's amazing.

That has to be the best thing about 2010. I have a greater sense of myself because I have a greater sense of my family. And that will only become more clear this year, with more research and more connecting.

I wish you all the same this year.

I joined Facebook - I asked for it.

So, a personal friend has de-friended me on Facebook. By "personal friend", I mean someone who I work with I had considered my friend. Even after I quit the store, we did stuff together, and talked on the phone, and all the things that people do when they are actual friends.

For whatever reason, Sadie has given my ass the boot, and well, I'm not all that sad. This may have been a while coming. But there's more to this story than meets the eye.

Sadie and I have had bouts of contention in the past. This has always, always been work-related. We always got on better when we didn't work together. I know she has a work ethic, she's just not displaying it right now, and it's caused me to comment on it. To her. When I heard she'd gotten a D-Day (Decision Day, where management decides if they're going to keep you or not), I wasn't all that surprised. The reason I'd initially heard about was stupid, but that's besides the point. And it made me think that they were just coming up with a reason to get rid of her. I'm not the only one who's had issue with her before. If I'd commented on this to someone (at least someone who can't keep his/her mouth shut), I don't recall. So, whatever her deal, Sadie ended our Facebook friendship.

Here's the sad part: I wouldn't have even noticed if it weren't for the fact that I use her as an employee on Restaurant City. Lately, it's the only reason I bother to log on to FB. I know the draw of Facebook. I've even requested people to join it. But lately, I have no desire to do much on there, except gain levels on Restaurant City. Lame, I know. Maybe I've outgrown it.

If Sadie had a problem with me, she could've called. She could've talked to me at work. Nope, just easier to give the ol' FB boot.

Somehow, I'm okay with this. Whatever.

She's alive! (Only just.)

Well, as you might imagine, I fell off the planet - again. I was sailing out to sea, and what do you know, the edge came faster than expected. I was gonna jump ship and try to swim back, but I was like, "Screw it" and reclined as I headed into the abyss.

Okay. It's not as dramatic as all that. I've just been a little busy and really tired.

Went to the sister's a few weeks ago. Came home with the cold that she and the kid had been sporting for a few days. Then I tried working that week on only about three hours of sleep a day (you can imagine how fun that was). Then I met up with my sister in the Dells for some non-child-related fun (cheesy place, but what can you do? It was convenient.) And now she's in town with Lily with my uncle's wife until tomorrow. Oh, and to top it off, after finally shaking the cold, I got some stomach thing that I was sure was originally something I ate and turned into a raging (gotta go gotta go gotta go right now) stomach. My mom got it. My co-worker got it. It's not something I ate.

On another note, I reconnected with one of my dearest friends - Joe. He is one of the highlights of the last decade. If there is a God, and he/she/it is looking out for me, then Joe was definitely a gift. After three years of dating, I finally met his boyfriend (an A+ in my book). I am no longer that horrible friend that Joe mentions in passing and the boyfriend assumes he made me up because I am conveniently unavailable. I am sure that there will be more visits to Madison to visit the two soon. In the meantime, it's good to know that a good time reminiscing was had (and at a needed time). It's always good to know that my twenties weren't a complete waste.

There was a little drama involved after I got my first pay check from the store and found out that they screwed up with my pay rate only to find out they put me in under the wrong job code. I had to wait three more pay checks before it was fixed and now I have to go deal with my incompetent personnel manager who tried to tell me that I might be the only person on third shift not to get a third shift differential in order to get my retro pay. That should be fun. I guess I could have done it this morning, but it takes energy to deal with complete morons. And I didn't have any left.

I'm in the process of figuring out a trip in the spring with my cousin and maybe a bigger one in the fall. Where to go? Where to go? There's such a long list of places I've been meaning to go, and narrowing done a destination won't be easy. But it should be fun.

Anyway, I'm back. Not normal. But I never was anyway.

Oh, check out this lovely article. I've known about this for years. I am one of those people who will show up to work sick just because those days add up, and I need my pay check.

My sister's been bothering me today to go run a brick through my hair and pretend to be alive when I'm really tired. Sorry Shannon. Spending the day at thrift stores - not my idea of a great time on three hours sleep.

Why can't they all be bastards?

So, dear readers, I learned something on my added shift last night. Normally, I don't work on Wednesday nights, but I was called in to cover for my co-worker, so in I went despite a terrible lack of sleep. I knew about this ahead of time, but for some reason, my body was fighting with the schedule I wanted to keep. Screw it. What can you do? It happens. Thank God for Starbucks.

Anyway, I should preface what I'm about to say with a little back-story, to give it context.

There was a guy I knew from the store for years. We were always friendly, and he was such a nice guy (a little younger than me - but cute and funny and we had a lot in common despite having hugely different backgrounds). I will call him EC for privacy reasons. Anyway, there was a time when we might have hooked up. I was still incredibly messed up from a previous break-up (i.e. mega-mind-games), so this probably wasn't meant to be. After a short while, even though he was the first to express interest, he began stringing me along. I didn't see the signs at first. But eventually, it became all too apparent (i.e. he was seeing someone else that we worked with - the DICK!).

When I decided to go back to working at the store, I wondered if I would have the misfortune of running into him from time to time. Being on third shift, I figured this unlikely, but one never knows. It wasn't until after I applied that I heard from friends that he was newly appointed to a position over the front end (including the accounting office - gulp).

I will admit, I was not digging this. Like Miranda from Sex and the City, once it's over, I feel they need to not exist.

The day of orientation, I did a minor freak-out with a very obvious "I'm avoiding you" move. And then, he ended up doing the stupid safety-talk in the orientation. This is my luck. Thankfully, it was just fine. He was perfectly nice, like he usually was, and it was over relatively painlessly. I thought that maybe that would be the end of that. I'd never see him again. Amen. Whew.

I hadn't seen him since the orientation (over a month ago now) until last night, when he ended up closing as a CSM (Customer Service Manager for all you non-Wal-mart people). Just my luck, it was the day that I picked up to cover for my friend. That's just wonderful, right?

This was the first time he'd closed the front end, so he needed a little help, but was over-all okay. Only a couple times did he ask questions. And he was friendly and nice. Which is completely wrong in my book.

A single incident needs to be amplified for all time. He was a bastard once, so that is what he is supposed to be for life, right? This would justify my opinion of him. But of course, he has to be the complete opposite of this. Just to make me feel bad for thinking ill of him. Damn you EC! Why can't you make this easy?

But now, given how things weren't completely awkward, it might be possible to be friends. Can it be? I'm getting too old to hold grudges. Maybe I am evolving.

Chicken or the Egg?

What came first? The third shift or the crazy?

Before I quit at the store the last time I worked there, I came up with this question about those who brave the midnight hour and work until past dawn: "Are third-shifters strange because they're on third shift or are they on third shift because they are strange?"

It's a strange sort of reality, being awake when you should be asleep, asleep when you should be awake. And working when it should be a crime to work.

Why can't we live on one of those planets that has a forty-hour day, one in which the spin on the axis requires a little more time, more like a leisurely stroll than spinning wildly through the solar system (not really, but you know what I mean)? If that were the case, then there would be no need for a third shift. Everything would be done. Awww. How nice.

I occasionally have had bouts of insomnia and when I saw the dawn breaking, I would just be depressed for the time lost that I could've been sleeping. Now, I see the sun coming up and it fills me with relief. I made it through another night with the weirdos. Okay, they aren't really all that weird, but the strange sleeping pattern doesn't lend well to a sane disposition. Imagine zombies that have acquired horrible smoking habits and without the impulse to eat the living.

At least I don't stock shelves. My body would be rejecting me if I did. I admire those that can.

Unfortunately, I'm off tonight and the next two nights, and I won't be able to sleep at the normal times. Ho-hum. What are you gonna do? It's a job. Could be worse. I just keep telling myself, "It's just for now. It's just for now."

Revenge of the Blubber

Funny how I thought that I could just start working at the store again, and no one would notice that I had gained weight - a lot of weight.

Most people were polite - one of my managers said, "Oh, you look so different." My response: "Well, I just highlighted my hair." "That must be it." (I'll come back to the highlighting fiasco.)

But I forgot just how ghetto my store is. One of my co-workers decided to be oh-so-blunt: "Girl, how did you get so chunky?!" My excuse is the lack of activity, which is conveniently true, in conjunction with eating whatever I want (and I mean, whatever I want). Another was, "Man, you've gained a lot of weight." Thanks. I think I'd like to thank Ben and Jerry for that one.

I thought I'd be safe in my little office on third shift. No one would notice me. I'd be back, but without the excess hassle. Ugh. Totally wrong. So now, there really is no pretending that I didn't get fat. I have to accept the fact that people I have a history with are going to notice.

On the upside, I think all the added movement is working to my weight-loss advantage. Most people gain weight on third shift. This is due to sleeping issues more than anything else. (There's some statistic about this, but I've managed to forget it.) I don't have this problem. I get home and within a half-hour, I'm asleep. I might get up a couple times to pee, but otherwise, I don't seem to be having any trouble sleeping during the day. And I've been eating more after I get up, but I'm still adjusting to eating lunch at 2 AM. Suffice it to say, I've been eating less overall. With the comments by my "beloved" co-workers, it might be time to get serious about the treadmill. And the healthy eating.

So, now the highlighting. I haven't cut my hair since March, and it's driving me a little nuts. At the same time, I've been hesitant to go get it cut. (I have trust issues.) Anyway, the roots were ever-present, so I picked up a box of Colour Experte (from L'oreal - love the stuff). I did the overall dying first, per the instructions. The highlighting was more tricky. The last time I used this particular dye, the highlighter applicator was this wand that looked like a giant mascara brush. It worked out really well. They still have that, but they also have another applicator that I thought I would try. I have to say, it was actually harder to work with, and the highlighting didn't turn out as well. (Note: It doesn't help that I got caught up with something and had the mixture on a "hair" too long and then it was extra light.) This particular applicator made it harder to get close enough to the scalp, so some of it looks weird. But, now that I'm seeing it everyday, it's growing on me and I actually like it. I just do a pseudo-part to compensate for any strangeness.

So, the first week of work was fairly painless, only minute amounts of hurt pride. I'm re-learning my job pretty efficiently, and I think I'll be fine on Thursday when I go back and work by myself (which is still a scary thought so soon after coming back). I'm just grateful I survived relatively unscathed.

Analyzing the specimen

I don't know why I find it mortifying, but I do. Peeing in a cup and handing over to another person is downright weird. And not the good kind of weird. It's the I-can't-wait-to-leave-the-room-and-try-to-forget-this-experience weird. Not quite traumatizing. Not quite part of the norm.

So, the proof that I'm not a junkie of any kind and don't partake of the occasional joint has reached the personnel office at the store. My sister said she's surprised they do a pee test there instead of the more accurate hair follicle pulling test (which probably costs too much for the low-price giant). The hotel my brother-in-law works at used to only use the hair test. After having a very high rate of positive returns, they decided to quit that. They couldn't find enough qualified people who weren't smoking weed. A compromise had to be reached. Now they just have crappy staff.

Today is the ever-dreaded (not really) orientation. Since I've already worked for this company before, and done the job that I will have, I thought that I might be able to forgo the ritualistic Wal-Mart propagandizing that an afternoon watching WMTV and doing computer modules subjects their staff (sorry, associates) to, but no such luck. So, as of 2:30 PM (central time), I will be a Wal-Mart associate again. As my friend Sadie would say, "Well, slap my ass and call me Sally." Yeah, I almost didn't think this day would arrive (and for a long time, didn't want it to), but I've reconciled myself to this. It's not a forever job. Just a for-now job. And that's okay.

I had a chance to watch Glee last night. Diggin' it. I figured keeping the momentum from the pilot going would be tough, but this crew seems up to the challenge with this episode. You can watch it below. Their performance at the assembly is hilarious!

Among other things... a little Swank.

This just in:

It's official. Sam has a job. Some big to-do at the store held things up (and by "to-do", I mean they don't have their act together - nothing new). I'll know more of the details tomorrow.

In the meantime, I've been reflecting on the last couple of weeks (the time since the interviews), and I have to say, I've been remarkably cool about this whole waiting game. I think this a mark of my evolution. The new Sam does not fret. What will be will be. A serious cut in worrying is making my life a whole lot more pleasant. Who'da thunk?

Perhaps the philosophy that worrying solves absolutely nothing, instead just causes more unnecessary suffering, is to be adopted. I guess I can cross that off of my life's "to do" list.

(Note my use of "to do" and "to-do", both in the same post. This is me attempting to be amusing, though even I think it's kind of dumb. Do you ever have those moments where you say something that was meant to be a joke or witty, and it completely flops, and you are the only one chuckling while everyone else is looking at you with either confusion or one of those scrunched up faces that clearly says, "I can't believe you bothered to say that"?)

On another note, my grandmother's recent dive into all things internet related is scaring me a little. When the web was first really gaining speed among the population, back in the mid to late 90's, she warned against it, relaying some message Bible-beater related. I think the technology scared her. Now that she finally got a computer and has been using it everyday, checking out all that this beautiful thing called the world wide web has to offer, I'm terrified. She's already told me about a few things that she would swear is true but is clearly a scam. My thoughts go from zero to "Oh my God! Gramma, don't give them all your money!" in two seconds or less. I'm trying not to worry about it because anything costing more than thirty dollars makes her suspicious.

So now, on to the good stuff.

I have been informed that I was nominated for a Swanky Blog award. I must thank armyblond, who was sweet enough to nominate me.

Per the protocol for this award, I am to nominate this blogger in return, as well as up to nine more blogs and inform the bloggers in their comments section of this nomination.

Sharing the love with (in no particular order):

• armyblond @ I Can't Believe I'm Still Single!
• intichaw @ as far as I can see
• The Prodigal Tourist @ England Rents, Rants, & Raves (who doesn't really need my help as his book is about to be hitting bookshelves and it has already received a rave review from fellow expat Michael York, but he always offers a great read, so you should visit.)
• Gwen @ Everything I Like Causes Cancer
• Joanne Walked Barefoot on the Milky Way @ Flower Child Voyager
• Tamsin Gray @ Frozen Cheese (who has not posted in five months, and I'm concerned about, but I feel I must direct you to because she has really beautiful pictures)
• Just A. Girl @ The Truth - So Help Me Blog
• Kate @ Sweet Southern Sunshine
• Deirdre @ Stop Sign Farm
• Steph @ Confessions of a Cosmetics Countergirl

Be sure to give them a look-see.

The view from Afar

I received my first issue of Afar magazine yesterday. Turns out it's actually the premier issue, so I was pretty stoked. While I haven't read the whole thing yet, I have to admit, I was pretty impressed with what I did read.

First of all, the founders are committed to good foresting practices, which is always a good thing. Secondly, their concept for the mag is a really good one - experiential travel. There's plenty of Travel & Leisure and Budget Travel out there to cover what every other travel mag does - they scratch the surface, but don't offer nearly as much about the adventure that traveling really is. I love this concept. Thirdly, they are looking to expand already, with a full-fledged website, line of books, and a foundation in the works. Said founders, Greg and Joe, no doubt, are keeping pretty busy.

Interested in your own copy of Afar, check out the website here.

I don't know what's going on yet with the dawdlers at Wal-mart. I was told an orientation was in the works, and then they had to key interviews into the system before scheduling an orientation, and now, I've just learned, they finally called my references. I should be freaking right now. Is thing actually going to happen? But I'm not. If it turns out that things don't work out, so be it. There has to be someplace out there that wouldn't be completely opposed to hiring, even if that place is McDonald's. I guess it's alright to come home smelling like french fries. I'm just really tired of fretting. F- it!

Back to square one, or how Sam defeated her bruised ego.

So, I have to admit something...

I'm going back to work for Wal-Mart. (I can hear the gasps and tongue-clicking from here).

It came time to be brutally honest with myself about the occurrences of the last couple of years, and it wasn't pretty.

I started my business back in 2006, not because I had a passion for it, though I do like to travel (it was a business marketing wholesale travel packages), but because I was mad at the stupid store. I felt betrayed at the time, not that it was anything personal.

Okay, here's the breakdown:

In January 2001, I was a junior in college, and I started working at Wal-Mart for no other reason than to make some dough. Back then, I was working another part-time job in school-age child care (which I really liked), and was going to school full-time. Then I picked up the Wal-Mart job, a full-time position. I was very quickly burned out, tapped out financially, and decided to use this as an excuse to quit school instead of the store (which, looking back, was the biggest mistake I've made yet).

By November that year, I was a department manager, which was another horrid mistake. I became emotionally involved with this place. It was definitely a disillusioning experience.

Every time I tried to step down from the position, my very persuasive and charismatic store manager would talk me off the ledge. This happened at least twice. Finally, I acquired a full-time job at a bank as a teller, and as the schedules conflicted, I was released from being a department manager.

I continued on at the store as a sort of "odd job" girl, doing this and that, staying busy because I could cover certain things for other department managers when they didn't have time and because that store is fairly psychotic on a daily basis anyway.

After being at the bank for about a year and a half, I got into the cash office (or accounting dept.). Finally, finally, I was in a position I actually liked. Soon after, I quit the bank. I was in the office for over two years when they switched the whole program and a number of people were going to be moved out to the floor. I was devastated. If I didn't take a part-time position, I would have to go back to the floor or as a cashier or as a customer service manager. Ugh!

This little opportunity came along around the same time to run my own business from home. Looking back, I was looking for any excuse to quit that place, and I took it.

Look, I liked the product I sold (and can still sell if I choose). I thought there was a lot of opportunity there. But the truth was that the organization I was with focused nearly all of their attention on network marketing (getting people to start their own business) instead of retail marketing. Even the business to business marketing was annoying. Then that organization decided to drop that product altogether and go with something else (a very quick way for the founders - with thousands under them - to rake in millions - and we're talking a matter of days). It was an unethical situation.

I tried going it alone for a while, and I tried and I tried and I tried. It was so draining, and I didn't want to admit some horrible failure. But that's what it was. So here I am, all this time later with nothing to show for it.

I shredded my 720 credit score (God knows what it is now). I ruined my work history. I lost my car. My relationships have been strained to the breaking point. And it ended up being all for nothing.

So, here's where I got honest with myself:

I finally asked myself what it was I really wanted. Absolutely positively. In very certain terms.

What do I want? What do I want?

1. I want to travel. That's why I started that type of business. So, that's definitely on the list. I want to go everywhere (I'm imagining Tina Fey saying "I want to go to there".) Here I am saying, "Let's work on that". Paris, Dublin, Goa, Buenos Aires, not to mention a ton of other places. They're officially on the list.

2. I want to write. Ever since I was a little kid, I knew that's what I wanted to do. I've been incredibly inconsistent with it (and that I will definitely work on), but ultimately, I keep gravitating towards that. So, I'm structuring a novel. In the works, so check.

3. I want to find a way to be of service. I'm coming up with little ideas that will hopefully sprout into bigger ideas. My mom mentioned a few months ago that she was disappointed in herself that she didn't instill a sense of duty when it came to volunteering. When we were kids, she was going through a lot, and I think we still turned out relatively decent. I don't hold it against her. But I think that I will feel a lot more fulfilled when I'm making a contribution to society other than paying taxes, voting, and showing up for jury duty.

4. I want to take off the depression weight. At least thirty pounds of it. Yuck! How did I let this happen? Oh well. I can do it. I've always noticed that when I'm happy, I'm smaller. I'm guessing this has to do with a huge number of hormones that I don't know the names of, but they all probably have at least six syllables.

So, after an extensive job search that was both depressing and disappointing, I think I found the right job at the right time. And ironically, it's at Wal-Mart.

There was an opening in the accounting office at the store I used to work at. Apparently they are having a hard time finding people who don't lose large amounts of money.

As much as I dreaded the thought of going back, after the interview process and all the anxiety that comes with applying for a job I left because I thought I had something better, the people I used to work with are welcoming me back with open arms.

I know. It's Wal-Mart. There can't be a huge lesson learned from there, and in all honesty, I don't plan on staying forever. But I feel very lucky that this happened. Is there some kind of cosmic force at work. I'm not holding my breath, but I am sighing with a sort of relief.

At any rate, I'll have plenty of writing material.

So, I'm starting at square one. This is Sam starting over. Better I got through my mid-life crisis now. I feel like the rest of my life awaits. And instead of being overly depressed, I'm ready to get going, wholly optimistic, and, I think, in a frame of mind that is finally being honest with me.

I don't know if my story will be one of those inspiring pieces that will spread by word of mouth until I'm relatively famous for being a prodigal Wal-Mart worker (God forbid). But I do know that I feel like a ton of weight has been lifted from my shoulders.