I Am A Nerd

Let me tell you why.

I don't want to go to class tomorrow. I mean, I REALLY don't want to go to class tomorrow. Not that I particularly hate my classes, I just don't feel like going through the process of learning.

So much effort, not enough payoff.

But there's a 99.98% chance that I'm going to get my behind up out of my marginally comfy bed at 6:45am and go to class tomorrow anyway. And take notes, and listen to my professors, and maybe even participate. Even though I haven't finished my reading, and I'm suffering from the worst PMS ever (TMI?? Eh... no.), and it's currently Student Appreciation Week at school which would be fine if the appreciation wasn't shown through copious amounts of ice cream, cucpcakes, candy, and other delicious sugary goodness I can't partake in. Sidebar- Why does Georgetown always put Student Appreciation Week during Lent? This is a Catholic School! Are they trying to test me as Jesus was tested? Cause if they are, they should know in advance that I'm totally failing that one. You know why? Because I literally feel BAD when I don't go to class. And not the tinge of guilt I assume most people feel when they don't do what they're supposed to do. I legitimately feel bad--racing heart, sweaty palms, butterflies in my stomach, twitchy right eye.

I blame my Mom.

See, when I was little, no one in my house took a day off. The only day my mom wouldn't go to work was on her birthday. That was it. Although, now that I think about it, my brother and I still had to go to school on our birthdays. Moms was a hypocrite!

#Anywaydoe

Like I was saying, everybody went to school and work. Unless you were highly contagious or vomiting, you went to school. And that became so ingrained in my brain that I was unable to turn it off, even when I didn't have my mom looking over my shoulder. When I was in college, I missed exactly 5 classes. Not five days of class, five class sessions. My sophomore year, this guy I had...have??... a huge crush on came up to campus for some reason and essentially needed someone to hang out with for a couple hours. I missed two classes that day, but it was clearly worth it-- even if all we did was sit on the futon and watch reruns. That could have been our moment! It wasn't, but it totally could have been. The other three class periods occurred at the end of my senior year, when I decided it was more prudent for me to work a couple extra hours then listen to my classmates give their final presentations. I think that was a good decision.

In law school, I missed one class my 1L year because of intense back pain that only allowed me to sit in one position without pain, no classes my 2L year, a week my first semester 3L year because I was in Atlanta for work, and one day this semester because I was on a plane back from Puerto Rico. That's it. No skipping class to play in the sun, or take in a baseball game, or catch up on sleep, or pretend to catch up on work.

It's so bad that I literally ask my friends... and my mom... for permission to miss class.

It's truly sad. Very, very, sad.

So with all that said... can I stay home from school tomorrow? Please??

Don't make me sit through class all day tomorrow looking like this.

S.

Quick Weight Watchers Update

Because I'm not generally as emo as I was last night....

Regardless, I want to send a huge smile and patented Sam hug* to everyone who commented and/or contacted me through other social media with kind words or expressions of commonality. Love y'all.

*I give great hugs. Forreals.

Anywho, just wanted to give you guys a quick update on my Weight Watchers journey. As of Wednesday, I've completed 2 full weeks on the program and have lost 8.5 lbs. That's a lot, yes?!? Excited!!

Remember that my initial WW goal was to lose 10lbs, so I fully intend to smash that goal. I'll probably take new pictures after a month on the program, and I can't wait to share my progress with you guys!!

Alright, that's it. I'll try to keep my crazy to a minimum in the future. But no promises.

S.

Self Esteem Issues

I'm lonely.

It's hard for me to admit this, because I know I'm supposed to be young and carefree, and having the time of my life Sex in the City style. But I'm not. I'm lonesome. I like being in a relationship--or at least my idea of an ideal relationship. Not that I've been in anything resembling my idea of an ideal relationship. I've had three boyfriends and never held hands out in public. Something seems wrong with that, doesn't it? Anyway, I digress... I like having someone to call or text just to say hi or have a random stream of consciousness conversation with, or share an inside joke that really shouldn't be funny anymore but for some inexplicable reason still cracks us up. But I don't have that.

Haven't had it for two years.

For two full years 25 months if you want to be specific, I've been utterly single. No boyfriend, no significant other, no "or something" (Q: is that your boyfriend or something? A: yeah... or something) no dates, no hookups (do black people hookup?) no kisses, no cuddles, no... nothing. Just me. And my thoughts. Which is bad, because my thoughts lead me to ugly, self-defeating places I don't like to go. Which is why I'm up right now at 1:03 a.m. writing this instead of sleeping peaceful in my bed.

Sometimes I think I'm "the Ugly Friend".

I'm sure you know how people always joke about there being one unattractive girl in each group of friends; there was even a Twitter trending topic about it a few months back. I find myself trying to take an unbiased look at myself and figure out where I really fall on the scale of attractiveness. Because there's got to be a reason that I haven't even be seriously approached by a guy in the last two years, right? Especially in DC where so many other young women seem to be having the time of their dating lives. So what else could it be? I know I'm tall, and maybe that accounts for some of it--especially in DC where there seems to be a strictly enforced height maximum of 5'10 for all men---but that can't be the determining factor, can it?

So maybe my standards are unrealistic. I mean, I look in the mirror and after critical assessment think that on a scale of 1-10, ten being Halle Berry, I'm a solid seven. I don't think that's giving myself too much credit. I have pretty nice cheekbones. And my smile gets lots of compliments, even if it is slightly gummy. But seven is above average, right? And above average women don't go on two year long dry spells. So maybe I'm not as unbiased as I purport to be. Maybe I'm more like a five. And as such, I should proportionally lower my personal "he's cute enough to give some time to" scale. Because people generally end up with people who are equal on the attractiveness scale, right?

When I was in middle school, there was a girl that all the boys liked. All of them. To this day, she's still just as gorgeous. Anyway, I remember looking at her and thinking to myself, "man, I wonder what's it like to walk into a room and have everyone there wanna get with you". Must be daunting and exhilarating and empowering all at the same time. I'm envious of people who know what that feels like.

Remember when you were in high school, maybe middle school, and you would put on your cutest outfit and cruise the mall or hang out at the movies and get hit on by little knuckleheads whose pants were too big and shirts were too long and wore sweatbands around their wrists because it was cool? And you would give them your number because, why not?

I don't remember that. It never happened to me.

No little knucklehead ever asked for my number at the mall, or the movies, or the Auto Show, or the State Fair.

Maybe that screwed me up and now I'm so unused to dealing with men that even if I am getting hit on or I can't even see it. Wouldn't that be tragic?

Remember when you were in college, and you'd go to the club with your three best girls because you'd just finished finals and you were desperate to blow off steam? And your faaaaaavorite song with the thumping bass would come on and you'd all run to the dance floor en masse because all the guys would be at the bar trying to swindle drinks out the bartender even though they were underage and you just couldn't wait for them? So you and your girls would dance and laugh and before you knew it there was a guy dancing with you, and your friend, and your friend over there?

I was always the girl left dancing by herself, trying to remember why I liked that damn song so much to begin with anyway. But maybe I'm just a bad dancer.

Sooo, yeah. I promise I'm not looking for sympathy or anything like that. But I said this blog was to keep me honest so... this is me. It's my pity party, I'll cry if I want to.

S.

I Don't Wanna Grow Up, I'm a Toys "R" Us Kid

No, that's not correct.

I definitely want to grow up. I am tired of going to school, tired of reading for school, tired of my Christmases marked by a period of extreme and irrational stress otherwise known as finals, and tired of my birthday being celebrated by a moment of euphoria for having survived another year, followed by an immediate crash back to Earth as I resume studying. Also, I've said it before and I'll say it again--law students are an odd bunch. The less time I spend around them, the better. Clearly I am the exception to the rule.

So no, I definitely don't not want to grow up.

What I do want, is to know what I want to be when I grow up.

Considering that I'll be 25 next month (!!!!!), it seems rather late in the game to figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life. The thing is, I thought I had it all figured out. When I graduated from college, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life--go to law school (for the knowledge, not the firm job), become employed by the NBA or NFL, save all the little black boys from making a mess of their lives and ending up destitute a year after they retired. Simple. But now, I just don't know. Maybe it's because things haven't exactly worked out as planned, but I'm feeling very unsettled right now. What if I do find the dream job and realize it's NOTHING like I thought it would be and I hate it? Then what? What if I NEVER get anything close to the dream job? What in the world could I do every day for the rest of my life that I wouldn't hate for the rest of my working life?

And then I start thinking, what if what I thought I wanted to do for the rest of my life when I was 18 isn't really what I want to do for the rest of my life now? I love reading. I read more than anyone I know, especially romance novels. It is my absolute favorite pastime. Why shouldn't I pursue something in that realm as a job? Wouldn't that make me happier? I could totally run a publishing house. Or be an editor. I could do that! But I don't technically have any experience in the field, I'm not a writer, and the only one saying I could do that is me. And anyway, being an editor could've been achieved without wasting three years and approximately $120k. Wasteful.

Maybe I should've just quit faking the funk when I was in college and have become a teacher. I've always said that if teachers made more money, I'd have been an AP English teacher (so being able to live a certain lifestyle means something to me. Sue me.). And let me tell you--I would've been FANTASTIC. Effing amazing. Le Sigh.

What really worries me is that other than those things, I seriously cannot think of one job--or even one thing-- I would enjoy doing as a job. I'm sure there's something else out there, but maybe I'm lost in my panic and can't see the forest for the trees. I've never before in my life not had a set plan for what was to come next--maybe that's what's freaking me out. Truthfully, law school might have been a huge, costly mistake. Damn.

I don't know guys, I just don't know! My friends are So. Sure. about what they want out of life, and I feel like I'm still floundering around trying to figure out where I fit in. I'm fine with not L-O-V-I-N-G whatever it is I end up doing after the bar, I just don't want to hate going to work every day, you know? But on the other hand, I'm definitely a beggar at this point, and beggars can't be choosers.

What's a girl to do??

S.

New Urrms and New Legs

Did you get that reference in the title? No? Need another clue? ::sings:: It's a new dawn, a new day, a new life for meeee, and I'm feeling gooooooood! *stands pigeon-toed*

Yes people, I joined Weight Watchers! Together with my friend Jen, I signed up a couple days ago and am very excited to see how it goes. I've gotten a lot of "Sam, you don't need to lose weight!" when I tell people I've joined, which while sweet, is quantifiably not true. What is true is that I've been doing fairly well on my own. However, I'm hoping that joining now will help get me out of this rut, as well as reteach me good portion control.

For those of you who don't know how Weight Watchers works, they give you a daily point value--based on your height, weight, and how much you want to lose--that you are not supposed to exceed. Every food has a point value, so you can basically eat what you want and spread those points however you want as long as you don't exceed your point total. It's essentially calorie counting, but a lot more user-friendly.

As part of the program, you're supposed to take pictures during your first week so you can have something to compare with down the line. And since I love you guys and have completely disregarded any pride I might've had when I started this blog, I'm going to share mine with you. Keep me honest people.

Sorry about the toothpaste on the mirror, I swear I cleaned it before I took these. Guess I missed a spot. :/

You can definitely see the love handles and tummy, and those twin rolls on my back are the bane of my existence. I also took a close up of my face since you can often see weight loss in the face first. Toning up my arms is definitely on the list too. So there you go! At the start of Weight Watchers (and Lent) I am at 219. I set my goal on Weight Watchers as losing 5% of my body weight, or 10lbs, but I'm hoping to smash that over these next 13 weeks. Wish me luck!

S.

P.S. You'll see a lot more pictures on the blog now that I've got my camera, which had been out of commission since last July, working again. It's the Michigan Difference, people. Go Blue.