She's rumored to be single...

I met my friend Danielle the other day to discuss shore excursions for the upcoming cruise (in February). We hadn't seen each other in a while, so a little catching up was in order. She's seeing a new guy. This is a good thing. She'd been with the same guy for over a decade, with it leading to nowhere. After her wise decision to move on, she didn't wallow in loneliness or bitterness [insert well-thought-out Sam joke here]. No, she joined a bowling league, spent more time on herself, and started seeing a nice guy. Good for her.

And when the conversation moved on to my niece, and I inevitably started to gush (just a little), she said, "Oh, your biological clock is ticking." God forbid. I was supposed to be the one chick in my age group whose every waking moment wasn't thinking of babies. Procreation has never been an obsession for me. That was a driving force for my sister, but not for me. Nor has it ever been a priority. But then, neither has dating and eventually settling down with a mate. Nope. Sam has been perfectly content with being single.

Now, in the midst of all of my re-evaluating, I have to see that it hasn't been contentment, but rather an overshadowing, pervasive fear of rejection. Everyone wants to be with someone. I'm not really an exception to this. But it's more comfortable to not even try than to live with butterflies in my stomach with first dates, or giving my heart to someone who may not give theirs in return, or having to reject someone myself simply because I don't feel a connection (or attraction for that matter).

Sadly, my mother brings up on practically a daily basis that I'm not getting younger and that if I'm going to provide her with some grandchildren, I better hop to it. My sister is the same way. I keep trying to see it as they just want me to be happy. But it feels more like nagging.

Since Lily was born, I have gradually warmed to the notion that I, too, want my own legacy, a piece of myself to live on through another being (in case the book-writing doesn't work out). The feel of holding a child, loving a child, being the most important thing in their world, and for them to be mine, has a certain appeal. I won't say that I'm driven towards it, but it is a thought that has entered my mind a time or two since my niece entered the world.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could just skip steps and just get to the good parts, and miss all the uncomfortable ones?

On to a related note, I have previously mentioned someone I once liked very much (EC) who kind of burned me, for lack of a better phrase. On third shift, I saw him maybe once every couple months, if that. Now that I'm on first shift, I have to see him all the time. It's not awful. The discomfort of letting the past interfere with my thoughts of him instead of seeing him as a decent human being and not the spawn of Satan has officially passed, and I would hope to be friends with him. At the most. I promise. Still, why does he have to be so nice, and so cute? It's easier to overlook them when they're not that great. I went through a period where it was hard not to think of him. I think I'm finally getting over that. Crushes suck. This one in particular, because it won't lead anywhere.

Sam-in-Limbo

Before I try to justify my long absence with a list of things that have been plaguing me to no end, I'll just say that I'm sorry. I've really needed an outlet too, but it seems that stress has this way of shutting me down to the point where I'm paralyzed, just existing as it were. So, no blogging, much less writing of any kind. That's horrible.

Well, some things have happened. After my life-changing decision to pursue veganism, I made a huge discovery about myself. It's really not easy to give up cheese. I love cheese. I love the different kinds of cheese - blue cheese, feta, cheddar, Parmesan, mozzarella, heck, even some swiss (okay, maybe not swiss). And while I was able to avoid it for a long time (months), I caved in about a month ago, and let's just say that it hasn't officially stopped. So, instead of calling myself vegan, I say I avoid dairy and eggs, not to mention processed foods and sweeteners. The result of that avoidance is 28 pounds gone (though I've got a ways to go). But I better get back on the ball. There's a cruise in my future, and this ass just won't cut it.

Apparently, my current financial state is as much in limbo as I am. A couple months ago, I was told that my position was being eliminated. Ugh. Really? They couldn't just leave well enough alone? They had to mess me up again, and leave me scrambling to find another position that probably would force a pay cut, not to mention the loss of my third-shift differential. Like the other madness that Walmart has been forcing on associates and customers alike (restructuring and stream-lining selection and store layout - even associates can't find what they're looking for),

I found myself in a bit of a predicament. If I'd been told a month and a half earlier, like I was supposed to be, I would've found something on third shift available. But they didn't, and I was stuck with some lame-ass bakery job. (No offence bakers everywhere.) I discovered two things when I did this. Firstly, the bakery at the store is just barely that. Here's what I mean: the product is purchased from other companies, shipped frozen, and then laid out to rise and baked in these really big ovens. I was seriously disappointed. I thought I'd be learning about different breads and donuts and cakes. I thought I'd be mixing stuff from scratch. Not a rotten chance. I learned how to pop a box open and throw some rolls on a baking sheet. Yay! Whatever.

Secondly, I learned to stick it out in this ridiculous waiting game. Apparently, the accounting office was left in this horrible situation with not enough people (two to be exact), and not enough hours to do what we do (an eight hour shift, as opposed to two and a half). So, Sam made her triumphant reappearance. Technically, I'm still officially a bakery associate until my over-worked assistant manager can fit in the official interview and make me an official accounting associate. Officially. I wonder if I'll get a raise. Hmmm...

What will happen next? I don't know what the future holds for this young plucky girl with a tentative hold on sanity, but I'm sure that the universe has a few tricks up its sleeve, and all will resolve itself in due course. But since I don't know what my employment future was going to bring, I knew I had to make some serious decisions about my horrid (and by horrid, I mean catastrophic) personal finances. Which leads me to the morning I found myself at the office of my bankruptcy attorney.

I remember going to Mapquest for the directions, but even just looking at them on the page, I found myself groaning. Drive through questionable neighborhood? Check.

Arriving a hair early, I found a taped note on the door to ring the bell. Strangely unprofessional setting? Check.

My attorney answered the door, and led me through the building to his office. The building itself was questionable in age, and had obviously been a house in a previous life, much like other buildings lining the street it sat on. The carpet (circa 1967) reeked of mold and cigarettes and the walls were paper-thin, worrying me that maybe everyone in the world was going to hear my business loud and clear. Potentially deadly or deadly embarrassing situation? Check and check?

Don't get me wrong. I knew I was doing the right thing, but in my head, I kept thinking, "Oh my God, what the hell am I doing here?"

Happily, my attorney was reassuring, and professional, and completely non-judgmental (at least not to my face, which is good enough). So the ball is rolling. I have my hearing with my creditors on the ninth, and after that, I have to wait sixty days for objections and then I'm done. That's not to say there won't be problems. But I need something of a clean slate. A do-over.

So, as the relief of it all hasn't exactly arrived yet, I'm feeling that the in-between stage of everything in my life at the moment has made some room for creativity, the kind I haven't experienced in a long time. And so, the idea that I will move on and become the person I really want to be is on the horizon, in view even. I'm just not there yet. But at least there is a promise of it.

Things I should've learned by now (A Year in Review).

So, I've decided to make a list of how things have and haven't turned out this year. Funny, another passed, and I still haven't got my shit together. Hmmm...

Anyhow, I think it worthy of reflection, if only to note where I've been stupid, and where I've come a little closer to a self-actualized human being (baby-steps and some crawling).

1. I am occasionally still afraid of the dark. Case in point: I scared the shit out of myself by going to Paranormal Activity and The Fourth Kind in the same day. I'm regretting having seen the former and I think that made me appreciate less the latter. This led to a few nights of sleeping with the lights on. Silly, yes. Wise, absolutely. My mind goes all kinds of crazy and this is just one of those times when my own sanity is more important than saving the planet. Does this make me a hypocrite. A little.

2. I am capable of getting over personal shame. Despite my desperate desire not to go back to working for Hell-Mart and having to explain my explosive failure, I did. A little humble pie, anyone? But you know what? It was worth it if it means that I am on my way back to semi-normal (because who are we kidding - I never truly was normal). And if I was able to get over this shame, maybe there are others that can finally be resolved as well.

3. It isn't always bad to be ghetto-fabulous! I have managed to prove that I can be resourceful despite a lack of resources. I put together a bookshelf with out the use of a screwdriver or a hammer. Yay me! Who said that the handles on butter knives only have one purpose?

4. My sister is my best friend in the whole wide world. Mom's a close second. I needed to rely on some people who were completely trust-worthy, and none proved more so than Shannon this year. She has watched me struggling for the last few years and has only offered support and love (through her charming wit and sometimes sarcastic tones accompanied by advice). She may live three-hundred miles away, but she might as well have been next door.

5. It's okay to shave my legs every once in a while. After a long bout of refusing to shave, the itch began to drive me way too crazy to describe. I don't know how men do it. The cuffs of my socks were not my friends during this time. Lesson learned.

6. I watch way, way, way too much television. Here is the current list of shows I follow: How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory, Heroes, House, NCIS, NCIS: LA, The Good Wife, The Forgotten, Criminal Minds, Glee, Fringe, Bones, Ugly Betty, Grey's Anatomy, and Medium. Throw in a little House Hunters, Ghost Hunters, Stargate Universe, and Masterpiece Theatre, and you've got a recipe for couch-potato-ness (term officially coined). Now, I know that most of these are watched via an over-diligent DVR, but this is ridiculous and I am considering abstaining from TV for a while to cut the addiction. There are better things to do than spend all day on my days off catching up. Like reading, or getting my hair cut (more on that next), or catching up with friends. I remember a time when I often said, "I don't watch TV." Of course, this is when I worked two jobs (one of which covered second shift), and I didn't have DISH, much less a DVR. I think I'd like to go back to the freedom that comes with saying that.

7. My mother needs to get over my hair. She keeps telling me that my hair-style is out of style (I beg to differ - I tend to choose the styles that are relatively timeless, but whatever). Still, I have unresolved trust issues with my hair. Until I find the perfect stylist and can actually afford him or her, I will just have to decide to live through the pain of the possible catastrophe that might occur. My hair hasn't been cut since the beginning of March. A good four inches needs to be chopped at the least. I used to let it get super long. Not so much any more - it's just too big a hassle, and I'm getting too old. Plus, the last time I got it cut, I found that it was possibly the least emotional I've been about my hair. So maybe this is becoming less an attachment to my hair thing and more a Sam's-too-lazy-to-get-her-hair-cut thing.

8. My health needs to take priority. I am on the second cold in as many months and I am not pleased. This tells me that I'm out of balance (like I haven't been for the past three years [insert sarcastic eyebrow raise here]). Under normal circumstances, I get sick maybe twice a year, if that. If you've noticed the book I just read on the right (The Kind Diet), then you know that I'm working towards a plan for a lifestyle change. I haven't eaten meat in almost ten years, but that's only part of the problem. I need to consider how my body is responding to processed foods, dairy, and eggs. Plus, as previously posted, I've had an ongoing war with my weight for a while. Besides the phlegm-y disposition, and overall respiratory issues, my joints and back have ached a lot more (and I'm not even that huge). There has been a rising occurrence of stomach issues. Fatigue has been a major culprit in my overall well-being as well, even before the third shift made its appearance. I always do better when I'm eating mainly fruit and vegetables (in their unprocessed, whole or juiced forms). So, what I'm waiting for is beyond me. But I know that if I finally make the official switch to veganism, there won't be any turning back. It just wouldn't be worth it. I want to be healthy until the day I die and that doesn't have to be unreasonable a statement.

9. I can take each day at a time. If anything, being a third-shifter has taught me that. Yes, the personal sleep schedule is all out of whack, but it forces me to do things more in moderation than anything. If it doesn't fit into my waking hours for that day, then it will have to wait until the next day. And that's okay. Some people might rush to get things done and either wear themselves out or do a completely shabby job. It just doesn't have to be that way.

10. I'm getting to the age where I don't feel the need to sweat so much of the small stuff. So, things didn't work out perfectly. That's okay. I find that I will live a much better life if I am okay with all possible outcomes, even the less than stellar ones. I've always been one of those people who would fret and worry. But now, not so much. And that's awesome.

11. So the planned fortune that the business was supposed to bring didn't happen. So much for basing my success on the outcomes of others in that line of work. Oh well. If it wasn't meant to be, then it's just a matter of me getting over it. It would've been nice to be free of the burden that comes with being poor. I keep trying to remember that these periods come and go, and eventually the freedom, that comes with a good income, will arrive when it's supposed to. Millionaire I am not. [Insert sigh here.]

12. I actually found a wine that I like (two to be exact). Both are from Cedar Creek Winery. Their Settlement Gold and Cranberry Blush are awesome. I got oh-so-lost on my way back from Cedarburg the day I decided to venture up there. I thought maybe I'd get some Christmas shopping done up there and then all I came back with was wine. I don't do well with dry wine. I like sweet. And I made a total ass of myself tasting them at the winery, acting like I knew what to look for. I don't. Wine expert I am not. What's funny about that trip is that I found historic downtown Cedarburg really easily, but when it came time to come home, I got completely turned around and ended up even farther north in Saukville. Not too big a deal. Strange that it's only fun to get lost when that is your intention. Otherwise, it's just a little scary.

13. I finally, finally get that I am responsible for my own happiness. It was drilled into me as a kid, but now I finally feel like that is how I can live. I've been responsible for the crappy existence that I have thus far created. And if the last three years have taught me anything, it's that if I am capable of utter misery, then I am also capable of an absolutely fantastic life. And that's exactly what I intend from now on. If I want to see change, then it has to start with me.

14. I realized what it is that I really want to do with my life. And no more distractions. No more excuses. If I really want something to happen, I have to make it happen. The business was just something that clouded my judgment and kept me from the things I really wanted to do, or thought I couldn't do. Not anymore. I think I'd rather try and fail at something I actually love and not something that only frustrates, annoys, disheartens, and ultimately I hate to do. Besides, when you do what you love, it's not work. It only reinforces joy.

So, that's it. I'm not saying there won't be amendments and additions to the list. But for now, this is pretty good. I won't bore you with the details of things that I plan to change about myself, not as a resolution, but something bigger and better. Besides, I'm sure the details of my life will emerge here over the course of the next year.

Okay New Year, bring it on! Bring. It. On.

On age...

I've been saying for a really long time that I'll probably live to be 140. Chalk it up to the lack of smoking, partying, having wild sex with strangers, just a little drinking, and being a relative hermit for the last three years, but I think it might actually happen. This is wishful thinking of course, but it keeps me thinking that there's plenty of time yet. No rush to actually get back to dating, get married, have kids, actually attempt some kind of career, still time to get to Paris and Buenos Aires, and to clean out my bedroom closet.

We live in a funny time (not funny ha-ha, funny strange) when it comes to age. I still get carded whenever I bother ordering anything stronger than a coffee. Some youngin's at my work orientation thought I was about twenty (yes!) even though there's increasing fine lines around my eyes that I'm growing a little paranoid about. My younger sister (by only eighteen months, but still younger) often passes for older than me. And I have always, always thought my mother looks about ten to fifteen years younger than she really is.

Someone my mom works with just turned thirty-eight. At her birthday dinner, the waitress guessed she was twenty-nine. The co-worker took it. Some time later (I'm guessing days by the story I was told), she was with her young son at Burger King where the woman (not kid) behind the counter told the little boy to have a nice day with his Grandma. She was irked and told her that the boy was actually her son.

My response to this is that we live in the age of Botox and Olay Regenerist. No one knows what 20, 40, or 80 is supposed to look like anymore. We make guesses and try to undercut what we suspect might be the actual age to make the recipient of the compliment feel good. But then there are those who look remarkably younger than their age, to the point of wonder. Is it lifestyle? Is it genes? Is it that great dermatologist you see ads in your mail for? Who knows anymore. Perhaps we should just tell each other "Hey, you look good" and leave the age thing alone. Our society dictates that our supposed youth dictates so much of our self-esteem and, in a lot of cases, our social standing. In ages past, it was the elders that were revered. What happened to that? It's nice to listen to people with wisdom talk about things they actually know about. How refreshing. Wisdom? Forget youth and beauty. That's my aim in life. (Okay, I'm really aiming for it all, but I figured I'd say that to make myself sound evolved.)

I'm only thirty now. What does 50, 70, 90 look like? It's not that far away you know. But as visually oriented as I am, I'm a bit more concerned with how I will feel. Will I be lucid at an old age, or should I be concerned about the amount of aluminum canned soda I've consumed? How about the fat "experiment"? How will that affect my health and mental state? It's nice to look good too, but there are more concerns than that.

Age - just a number? I don't think so. Apparently, it's part of a greater symbol of something else.

Want to live to be 140? Check out this site I just found. Interesting, but true?

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.