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.

Well slap my ass and... oh, you already did that?

Last night afforded me the opportunity to make an ass of myself with my co-worker and partner-in-crime, Shelly (not my uncle's wife/aunt - there's more than one, you know).

While walking out of the office, she managed to stop suddenly, and I (not looking mind you) kind of ran into her. Well, not exactly. Actually it was my hand. And it smacked her really good right in the ass. This lead to a series of renditions of "I can't believe I slapped your ass" all night, followed by laughing. To be fair, it was the side of my hand, so it was more of a smack than a slap, but I don't think the difference matters all that much. It happened. So at least it was an interesting start to the uneventful night.

I have to admit that I'm pretty lucky to work with her and Krissy (day accounting office associate extraordinaire). They made coming back to that miserable excuse for a job a lot more bearable. Or at least ended the dread. (Please excuse the comments here. My job is tedious and sometimes extremely boring, but by no means a completely horrible job. If anything, I'm lucky to have it all things considered. If only it weren't at Wal-mart...)

What is up with the people who flock to the break room during our mandatory fifteens? They are so loud. I wonder if they feel the need to stretch their vocal chords to keep from passing out. Entirely possible. However, this makes it damn near impossible to enjoy reading my book on break. What the hell?! It could be worse: I could be one of those poor schmucks who are chained to their smoking habits and have to congregate outside to get their deadly, yet calming cigarette fix. It's f-ing cold out there folks. I'd rather not.

By the way, bad news my friends. It seems I will not have access to my niece until March. So, I'm afraid I will be a little melancholy. In all honesty, the road trips to MN were taking their toll on my days off. But I miss her all the same.

I have some truly cute videos of her. On one of them, she's looking at a bug and says, "Ta-da! I peeking!" Too precious.

In other unrelated news, I am on the brink of veganism. Sadly, I will say "adios" to cheese, ice cream, omelettes, and other tasty pieces of heaven that animal products can create. The cancer and heart disease in my family was the ultimate kicker. It's a rampant problem - rampant! And weight issues aside (and they are profound by themselves), this is the overriding factor. Plus, after reading The Kind Life, I don't think I can justify what eating these things does to the Earth. If you don't think that you're casting a vote with every grocery purchase, think again. The processed foods and refined sugars will be making an exit as well. There may be occasional visits on this variety show, but they will be by no means regular cast members.

I have to dig out my treadmill too. It's become the de facto resting spot for all the Christmas wrapping paper of late. I need to knock that shit out. I never let it happen before. This last year has been really bad with the treadmill abuse. Oh well. It's in there somewhere.

Alright. So, that's the update for now. Sam out.

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."

The point of walking...

I was on my way to work last night when I saw a sight that I find amusing at the expense of someone else's pride (they just don't know it).

There was a guy, probably in his twenties, making his way down the sidewalk. His gait was horribly awkward (and not in a possibly-physically-disabled-but-not-quite-sure way), and he was wearing the ever-popular (though I can't think why) "wife beater". Yeah, I know I shouldn't use that appalling term, but I have a point. I'm calling that particular walk the "beater step". It's midway between a cool swagger and a drunken stagger.

Walking, like driving, or riding a bike, or flying, is a mode of transportation. It gets you from Point A to Point B - as simple as that. But it seems that it must be dressed up with some pseudo-dance move to somehow make this guy special, make him stand out. I'm guessing that he has to do this in place of a piece-of-junk car with flashy rims.

This isn't the first guy I've noticed doing this. Every once in a while, one will pop up. Makes me think that maybe there's some kind of conspiracy going on to confuse me in my more paranoid moments. But that's just more of my inner-crazy peeking around the corner.

Speaking of inner-crazy, I had a minor bout of insecurity at the job. Seems I don't think or move as fast as I used to. I know, I know. Get over it, Sam. You'll be a pro again soon - God-willing.

But I have to say, I feel really exposed right now because I'm just now remembering some things that got lost since leaving the store, things that I naturally did or followed the process of. It's a strange sort of vulnerability that I didn't think I'd experience by returning to the same store and the same job. When you start a new job at a place you've never work before, doing something you've never done before, you expect that. But because people know me, I keep thinking they are probably expecting all of this to just come back as if I'd never left. So, I kind of shuffle my feet and make awkward expressions, coming up with excuses that I don't really need. Everyone there is pretty patient and saying, "Don't worry. You're doing fine." Am I? Am I really?

This constant need for reassurance is annoying even to me. I can't wait until I'm back to "good" and not just "okay".

I need sleep.

Sure, I see it now...

I just read an article online about toxic friendships. And my eyes are opened.

You see, dear readers, I always prided myself on my friendships. I chose people who I believed were worthy of my time and efforts. Looking at this article though, I have to admit that I've come across a few bad relationships with girlfriends. And I ask myself now why I didn't see that before.

Namely, I was the one putting forth all the effort in the friendship. That is by far my biggest pet peeve now, but at the time, as frustrating as it was, I was willing to do all the work for the sake of the friendship. Now, I let friendships run their course. If the friend isn't willing to meet me in the middle, forget it. I can settle for an acquaintance.

In recent years, I've come the farthest with letting go of the emotionally draining, I-think-she-stole-my-life-force-out-of-me friendships. To listen to problem after problem, depressing detail after depressing detail, without so much as acknowledging anything I might like to share, is like digging my own grave. Oh my God! Do these people really believe they are the only ones on the planet, that they're the only ones with issues? Or are they purposely trying to drive the people around them nuts? Good Lord! Go smell a flower or something. Eat a brownie. Anything but continue on and on and on about how your boyfriend/husband/ex-boyfriend/ex-husband/father/stepfather/mother/stepmother/boss/neighbor/mailman/dog-walker is screwing with your head and you need to move or change your phone number or pretend you don't speak English or whatever.

I could've used the book the article is about a long time ago. Where was it then? Even now, I catch myself with friendships that I question the motivation behind. It's always with my girlfriends too. Never the guys. Strange how that is. I guess they really are a whole other species (yeah, I'm learning that too). Even with my gay male friends, while the drama is ever-present (though in waves), I still feel I have an equal footing with them. I'm not afraid of the sucking vortex that some of the relationships I've had in the past have ushered into my life.

Wouldn't the world be an awesome place if all our friendships were fully heartfelt and they were as excited to be in our lives as we are to be in theirs? [Insert sigh here.]

You can read the article here.

By the way, the job kept me an hour late because I couldn't put two and two together. Not good when all I do is count all night. (I keep telling myself, "I'll get there. Don't worry." I have only been back at this for a week.)

Here, this makes me happy...