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.

Where have you been?!

I know, conveniently absent all this time. Trying to get my shit back together I guess.

So, not much to report. I think it's safe to say that I killed some plants, but other than that, not a whole heck of a lot.

My sister has decided that we are going to have a little getaway, just us sisters. The baby and the hubby get to stay home. Fine by me. She needs the time away from being mom and wife. We're probably gonna be spending a couple of days in the Dells - again. Yeah, I know, but it's close and she doesn't want to be too far away (just in case of what? Maybe the baby will learn how to rob banks or commit arson or defy her daddy - who knows - it could happen.) Plus, it's close enough to Madison to see good friend Joe Kramer (We actually call him Joe Kramer - not Joe, not Joseph, it's Joe Kramer - we don't know why this is funny. It just is.) I have yet to meet the boyfriend and they've been dating like a million years already. (This makes me a horrible friend, by the way.)

Mom's preparing for a trip out East - Williamsburg. I'm constantly hearing the details of the vacation. I want to say I'm enjoying it, but it's a little annoying when you hear the same thing at least fifteen times. Glad she's getting a chance to get out of town. She gets a little stir-crazy when she has to stay in the same state long. It's amazing she hasn't moved four or five times in the last eleven years (since buying the house).

I'm trying to come up with a good movie for Cinema Therapy. Stay tuned for that one.

I think I've decided on a new bedroom set. Hopefully this will change the storage situation. Plus I'm digging the white. It's a new set from IKEA (big surprise!) called Aspelund. The three-door wardrobe comes with a mirror, which is handy because I don't have one in there right now. Anyhow, I like it. But I'll probably change my mind before I get it. I hate being so indecisive.

Let me think. Any more details that are eluding me? Nope. That's about it.

Hopefully I won't take so long to return next time. And maybe I'll actually have something worthwhile to say. It's been a slow month.

Cinema Therapy, volume 3

OMG! I almost forgot about Cinema Therapy this week. Well, this is one of my all-time favorite feel-good movies. If you've never seen it, clearly you are living under a rock in a third world country.

Rudy!

Okay, so when The Goonies came out when I was little, I found myself having a little-girl crush on Sean Astin. He was sooo cute.

In Rudy, you can't help falling in love with him. I always have that "you can do it!" rush watching him as the wannabe Notre Dame football player. You'll be rooting for him too. You know you will.

And ladies, this is a great movie to curl up and watch with the man. He might actually not be bored even though it doesn't have major explosions. I know, I shouldn't generalize men. I used to know this guy who actually preferred chick-flicks to action films - and yes, he was straight. Ugh, that's another post.

Goth-ick!

I don't know what made me do it. But as sudden urges do, I found myself in the presence of items I hadn't bothered even thinking about for many, many years: Gothic romantic novels.

When I was living in Anoka all those years ago, we would frequent this used book store in Osseo. My mother was addicted (and I'm not talking about frequency, I'm talking about obsession) to romance novels. She calls me a literature snob because I have never really been a fan (I think I've called them "crap" a time or two - I apologize to anyone who has a particular love of this genre). Anyhow, back then, she got me reading these books of a romantic persuasion, and I have to admit: I did like them. Of course, I was between the ages of eleven and thirteen. I probably wasn't qualified to make a judgment about the quality of said books.

On a whim, I started thinking about these books. I think it started with a film conversation. For whatever reason, I came to the conclusion that Hollywood hasn't produced any good Gothic cinema for years, and the majority of which (and probably the best of which) was foreign in origin. I'm not really all that versed on the subject, but here I was expressing an opinion I had no right to express.

Anyway, it got me thinking about those books. So, down the basement I went and dug out these books. I only had a few of them left (I imagine that several trips ago, most went with to Half-Price Books and never returned). And honestly, I didn't really remember a single story. I don't think this a statement about how good a story any of them were. I suppose one story faded into another until I didn't remember what was what, especially when they were probably read in succession.

So now, here I am, re-reading Thunder Heights. And I gotta say, it's not the best written story I've ever encountered. (To be fair, these authors were rather prolific more out of necessity than desire. It's hard to be profound on a deadline.)

Thankfully, it wasn't until I got to page 130 that I encountered any statement like the following:

She raised her own head without hesitation and went quite simply into his arms. He was not gentle now. His mouth was hard upon her lips so that they felt bruised beneath its touch. Her body ached under the pressure of his arms, but she did not want the pain lessened. When he raised his head she would have put her arms about his neck and risen on her toes to rest her cheek again his own, admitting everything - all the wild feeling that surged through her, all the wanting so long held in check because there was no one to want. Her movements were those of one spellbound, as though she had no will of her own, and could bow only to his.

I got one word for you people: Ick!

She didn't want the pain lessened? She was spellbound? By a man?

If the kiss was so hard he actually bruised my lips, I'd be nipping that one in the bud. "You bruised my f---ing lips, you dick!" (I'm sounding a little angry today. I'll try to scale it back.)

Even on my most needy of days, I was never spellbound. This can't be based on any sort of reality. Maybe I'm being harsh. I suppose the origin of the novel dictated that there should be some deviation from reality; escapism. But come on! I wonder if she can feel the "wild feeling" surging through me (hint: it rhymes with Gromit).

Ah well, love scenes aside, I'm digging the descriptions of the settings. There is nothing more fascinating than a weird, big, old house filled with secrets from the past.

The turrets were no longer bright as Althea King had described them. Storms had weathered the house to a dingy gray, left too long unpainted, and the trees crowding about gave it the look of a place left uninhabited. It appeared enchanted, spellbound, there on its remote heights. Not a house, but the picture of a house, torn from the pages of fantasy.

I have this thing about big, old houses. They capture my imagination in ways that few things will. I sometimes wish I were stealthy enough to break into a few of them, just to peek around. My all-time favorite house on film is the house in The Changeling, the George C. Scott movie, not the Angelina Jolie pic. That giant old house was just created on a film set, but if it weren't, I can guarantee you I would've visited it by now.

Anyhow, I'll probably blast through these books, mainly just so I can say I did. It feels more like a guilty pleasure than an actually beneficial activity, but most reading is anyway.

By the way, and on a completely different note, I have watched the end number on the pilot episode of Glee at least twenty times. This is bordering on ridiculous, but admittedly, this is going to be a fun show if this episode is any indication. I wasn't a show choir person myself - I left that to my sister - I was already a band geek. Still, it has that quality that only a well-formed cast can put together. And who doesn't love Journey?!

The love is gone.

This might be the end between me and Hollywood Video. The love affair has lasted several years, but last night was the last straw and it's time for an official break-up.

You see, dear friends, about seven years ago, after becoming disillusioned with Blockbuster, I decided to concentrate my video-renting efforts with a smaller chain of stores, Hollywood Video. At the time, it was ideal. They had more of the types of titles that I liked and they offered to give me back a dollar every time I returned one of their new releases before midnight the next day. Plus, they offered five night rentals (which were a novelty at the time). So, to say the least, I fell in love, and as all love affairs start, one assumes that it will last forever.

A few years ago, I discovered Netflix, and I admit I cheated on my beloved. There were no due dates, I could have out as many movies in a month as I wanted, and all for less than twenty dollars. It was a distraction from my love, but I still relied heavily on HV for my sudden viewing urges, so the relationship continued.

But last night, after seeing what might be available on the fly, I discovered that HV's prices had risen again (to $4.49 a rental). They have a new program called PowerPlay - a competitive response to Blockbuster - but even that couldn't entice me to stay. I cannot watch HV die a slow and painful death, caused by HV's own unhealthy actions. It's sad, to say the least, and my devotion should continue despite these ill-made decisions. But, dear readers, my heart is broken, and indeed, the love is gone.

I shall miss the familiar faces of the employees there, the sounds echoing off the high ceilings and tiled floors, the smell of their library. But my heart, once lost, is lost forever.

Goodbye my lovely, and may you find happiness with your other patrons who still devote themselves wholeheartedly to you.