A Slap in the Face; Or, The Time I Cried on Christmas

For Christmas, my mother bought me a beautiful black suit with a snakeskin-esque pattern that could very easily transition from work to play. Size 16.

It didn't fit.

Then she gave me a backup gift, a gorgeous black and white tweed suit, size 16.

It didn't fit.

Two years ago, I celebrated Christmas as a size 12, approximately 187 pounds.

Yesterday I celebrated Christmas as (maybe? barely?) a size 16, exactly 236 pounds.

So I cried.

I thought I had it figured out, but no. The cycle continues.

Epiphany.

I spend too much a lot of time talking about my relationship woes on this here blog.
But driving home today, I had a God honest epiphany about that facet of my life.

God was protecting me.

(FYI, there's no joke coming. This is not a post full of the funnies.)

I try to be very honest with you all here, but there are some parts of my life, my past, that I will never share here. Parts that I have never shared with anyone. 

But I will say this-- I made some poor decisions in my young adult life. Decisions that could have had disastrous results for my health, safety, and emotional well-being. And truthfully, I continued making variations of those poor decisions up until the end of my last "relationship"-- less dangerous to my physical safety, but just as detrimental to my emotional security. 

I've been honest here that, for a myriad of reasons (chief of which is my extreme distaste for getting up and out the house before noon on a Sunday, but y'all already knew I was lazy) I'm not a regular church-goer. But that does not negate the fact that I fully believe in God, talk to God daily, and pray about what's going on in my life. So it's odd that it took me so long to see what was directly in front of my face-- I wasn't in a relationship because I wasn't READY to be in a relationship.

And I don't mean "ready" in the way women talk about being ready. *cue India.Arie* I don't mean I wasn't ready because I was having fun dating and hanging out and didn't want to commit.

I mean I wasn't ready in that I was self-destructive. I accepted anything, justified being treated poorly.... I had on blinders. I made poor decisions. I was so caught up in my crazy that even my daydreams about relationships inevitably featured a traumatic breakup followed by an epic reunion. That was my idea of what love meant.

To be blunt, I was ripe for an abusive relationship.

Thank GOD, that was never the case. I wasn't always treated well (who is?), but I was never harmed physically, emotionally, or mentally. And for that, I thank God everyday.

So when I say God protected me, I mean he literally protected me. From stupid, painful, dangerous decisions. I could have learned through trial by fire, but God is a merciful God and saved me from my own fool self. Instead, he took me totally out of the way of harm. I didn't understand it before, but oh boy it hit me like a stack of bricks today.

I am not an ugly woman. I dress fairly nicely, I smile freely, and my hair looks kinda cool the majority of the time. But in the past 4.5 years, I've not been approached once on the street, or at Target, or at the bookstore. I didn't understand how that was possible. There are women out here looking like who shot Dracula, why, and what for, and please don't do it again -- and I'm dateless???

I realize now I had to be fully removed from that situation to heal. It was not something I did intentionally. It wasn't even something I realized was happening. But... things are different now. It's hard to explain, but I'm different at the core. So, thank you God. You protected me when I didn't even realize I needed protection.

S.

The More Things Change...

The fatter I get.

You totally weren't expecting that, were you? I'm sneaky like that.

So, I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but my body basically hates me. And by hates I mean in purely superficial ways like OMG I KEEP GAINING WEIGHT WHAT THE FUCK AND MY FACE LOOKS SHITTY AND MY HAIR WON'T GROW AND NO ONE IS EVER GOING TO LOVE ME AND I'M GONNA DIE ALONE.

In a nutshell.

How sick does it make me that I legitimately fantasize about having a diagnosable disease to justify my weight gain and/or getting punched in the face so hard I have to have my jaw wired shut so I'm forced to lose weight? Really, on a scale of 1-10, is that more or less than a 9? I'm thinking 8.2 (I mean, it's not like I'm considering actually not eating 'cause... cake) but I'm biased. Whatevs.

In other news, my job still employs me, so that's cool. I'm also still single, but also still child, STD, and stalker free, so win.

Also, I'm writing a book.

Well, ok, I'm going to write a book. I haven't actually started, but I have the idea. Kinda. Actually...

Look, I'm gonna write a book, ok? Ok. Think Bridget Jones' Diary + shit that applies to Black people. And in this book Black is gonna be capitalized all the fucking time because mine.

I hope you guys will read it. Or at least don't and say you did.

Peace out, homie.
S.

On Being A Lions Fan.

Shit's frustrating.

The end.

On Online Dating

Surprise!

I was not swept out to sea by Sandy, nor was I committed to the looney bin due to constant exposure to political commercials (#MyPresidentIsSTILLBlackAndNotALiarAndNotAJerkAndComesByHisTannedSkinNaturally). Nope, I've just been lazy working and didn't have shit to write about felt my time would be better spent trying not to get fired. Which I've succeeded at so far, so yay me!

But that's not why we're here today. Nay, we are here to discuss *drum roll pleeeeeeeeease* ONLINE DATING. I now have pointed observations on the subject due to my extensive (read: not quite one full month) foray into the area.

Yes, you read that correctly. Me. Online dating. Correct.

Here's the thing: I spend a lot of time bemoaning my love life. Which is kinda annoying. And sad. But mostly annoying. So I figure, I really can't justify complaining if I'm not actually doing anything to change the situation. And yes, I know all many of you have gently suggested variations of the same for many moons, but I really must reiterate the fact that at my core I'm a 643 pound woman who hasn't left her bed in 6 months and is on first name basis with every pizza/chinese/mexican/italian delivery boy in a thirty mile radius. What I'm saying is, girlfriend is lazy. So taking the time to make affirmative moves required way more effort than I was willing to expend. But I did, and it was good.

Kinda.

Good in that it's definitely making me put some effort into moisturizing my situation (!!!), but bad because oh good Lord. Without further ado, things important notes from my experience online dating:

1. Spelling and grammar are important. Indeed, they are paramount. When the first impression someone has of you are the words you write, it would probably be best if your opening sentence did not in any way resemble the following- "hi. Im a reel kool guy, jus loking four a nice yung ladie who under stands me. Ands a freeek!!"
2. You should probably not make your interest in sex the main highlight of your profile- "I love sex, and I'm real good at it. I'm real freaky so I hope you are too. As long as it's not the 3rd Saturday of the month, I'll have your ass bouncing off the walls (I've got my kids that day).
3. (Black) People really have kids hardcore by my age. I thought that might have been an urban myth, but I'm pretty sure online dating just burst me out the middle-class, college-educated bubble. Oops.
4. If you have 5 pictures, and all 5 of the pictures have other people in them, you're trying to hide your ugly. No exceptions.
5. Pictures all from the waist up? You're short. All from the chest up? You're fat. All camera phone selfies? Friendless. Undisputed. 
6. Job: "I'll tell you later" = unemployed; Education: "I'll tell you later" = high school dropout; Children: "I'll tell you later" = 4 kids, all aged 3.

I hope the preceding was useful. Now, excuse me while I go pay to do the type of internet flirting I could do for free on Black Twitter.

S.

Truth Time

I've gained back approximately 20 of the pounds I lost in 2011 since I started work.

I'm having skin issues for the first time in my life and my face looks like crap.

Lonely.

Tired of hearing myself say I'm lonely, tired of typing it out here, tired of worrying about it.

I live vicariously through romance novels.

I don't have a fair pair of jeans.

I don't have any outfit I can put on that makes me feel gorgeous.

I sit at home most weekend nights.

My mother is my most constant companion.

I feel like everyone is progressing in their lives except for me.

I miss DC.

I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

I hate that no matter how much I work out, if I don't eat perfectly I gain weight.

I hate that I already know I'll have to work out and eat blandly for the rest of my life or else I'll blow up like a balloon.

I wish I were funnier.

I do not know how to flirt.

I am sick of hearing myself whine.

I'm always surprised when my superiors tell em they think I'm good at my job.

I'm still waiting to go on a great adventure.

My mother unexpectedly cleaned my bedroom for me and she found absolutely nothing dirty, awkward, naughty, or scandalous. I don't know whether to be proud or ashamed.

My crazy is crazier than ever.

S.

Things I've Learned

1. Law school does not teach you how to be a lawyer. Maybe it teaches you how to think like a lawyer, but I could have went to paralegal school for that and saved $200,000. So, thanks for that, Georgetown. Much appreciated.

2. Law firms like to give you lots and lots of free alcohol and free (bad for you) food.

3. Lots of free alcohol + lots of free (bad for you) food = Lots of non-free shopping because you've gained too much weight to fit into your formerly "skinny" clothes. Damn it.

4. Do. Not. Piss. Off. The. Secretaries.

5. Running 3.1 miles is doable!

6. Running 3.1 miles with a blister is less doable.

7. Blister gel/cream preventer stuff does not work.

8. There are exactly 16 Black people in my firm. Total.

9. It's so easy to spend money when you've got money.

10. Don't ever take a job where you have to bill hours. Trust me on this.

11. It is totally appropriate to wear flat jeweled sandals to the club in June, and don't let anyone tell you differently.

12. Rooftop parties are fun.

13. Walking through an alley that smells like a schizophrenic homeless woman's underwear to get to said rooftop party is not fun.

14. The attractive, Black, cool, male lawyer is not totally an urban legend. If only I could remember his name...

15. As long as you look busy and type furiously, no one will bother you while you're on your computer at work. Even if you're blogging.

Happy Friday!

S.

P.S.- 16. Three day weekends should be mandatory.

Eff It.

You may not have noticed this, but I haven't written in a while.

It's not because I didn't want to write, because I did. I REALLY wanted to write. Desperately, actually. But the thing is, I wanted to write about my job. Which is bad, because blogging about your job could get fired. And seeing as how I'm not at all inclined to be poor again, I just didn't write. I made the executive decision that plugging my creative outlet was better than mistakenly writing something I shouldn't and getting called into HR.

Except, it's not. Not even a little bit.

So now I'm saying eff it. I'm going to write. I'm going to talk about my life, and my days, and what it feels like to be a real life full-fledged attorney. Cause I am. Like, legitimately.

I'm a rebel with a cause, I tell ya. Which is exactly why I just painted my nails the brightest neon pink known to man. Take that, stuffy old judicial system! I've got to be me, and I'm starting right now.

Back with a vengeance,

S.

Happy New Year!

This post is a bit premature, as it's only 10:35p.m. in my neck of the woods, but I figure since I'm already on my second glass of wine (and feeling it!) I should probably get this post in the books before I lose the hand/eye coordination to efficiently do so.

As I tweeted a bit earlier, 2011 was really good to me (even if my posts here lead you to believe otherwise). I graduated from an amazing law school, studied my butt off for the bar, passed the bar, and accepted a job with one of the top firms in Michigan. I really can't complain... too much. But with that said, I'm expecting 2012 to be even better! So, I decided instead of doing resolutions that I may or may not keep, I would write out a list of things I want from 2012. And because I have no filter, I've decided to share this list, in its entirety, with all of you. Without further ado...

What I want from 2012

1. To use my fear as inspiration to ROCK this new job!

2. To try new things I'm uncomfortable with, just to say I did. Who knows, I may love it!

3. Get down to, and stay at, 180 pounds.

4. Save heartily (but spend frivolously at least once a quarter).

5. Go on a date.

6. Fall in love, even if only for a week. :)

7. Take a trip somewhere I've never been before.

8. Don't be afraid to SHINE!

9. Visit DC, Atlanta, and Chicago --> Nourish my friendships!

10. Do something really nice and unexpected for Mommy.

11. Become familiar with and comfortable navigating downtown.

12. Laugh more, and sweat the small stuff less.

13. Be wholly, unequivocally, undeniably, unapologetically ME!

If I don't get to everything, that's totally ok, but at least it gives me something to strive for.

In the spirit of full disclosure, after reading this blog, I also wrote out a list of everything I could possibly want in a man. Now, clearly no man on this overcrowded, polluted, amazing, beautiful earth is going to have everything on this (extensive) list, but it's nice to really think about what's important to me, what I'm looking for superficially, and what I actually don't need. At midnight I'm going to burn both lists, kind of as a way to get them into the atmosphere. Anyway, I'm not going to recreate the "Man" list for you guys in total here because, crazy as it may seem, I do have some pride, but I will leave you with a few randomly selected excerpts:

2. NICE. To me, to others, to strangers, and to himself.

6. Thinks I'm beautiful, and makes me think so too.

11. Has. A. Job. (with opportunity for advancement)

13. Comes from a good, solid, stable family (who love me!)

21. Unselfish in all things

25. Sexy --> Makes me nervous and gives me butterflies.

28. Engaged in the democratic process.

34. Likes my friends, and vice versa.

40. Faithful

Before I get out of here, I just want to say a really big thank you to everyone who has read this little corner of the internets, commented, left me a facebook message, emailed, texted, stopped me in person, whatever! I'm so glad to know I'm not the only one hiding their crazy from the masses, and I promise to expose more of my crazy (and less of my emo) in the new year. Love y'all!

Happy New Year guys, hope 2012 brings you all you desire!

S.

Perhaps I Spoke Too Soon...

...Because I just got offered that job I interviewed for.

Whoop!

Knowing that I'll be able to pay some bills takes a huge weight off my back and definitely put a smile back on my face.

Lord, don't let me mess this up. Also Lord, this might be rather superficial, but please don't let me turn into one of those weird, socially awkward, lawyer types. I'm too cute for all that. Shudder.

S.

Revelations

Last night I dreamt I was in some amazing Old World European country where I had to climb over the roofs of buildings and move this huge block of cement in order to shimmy into this dark cavern that led to the best party I'd ever been to.

Don't be jealous of my imagination.

So, that was pretty cool. But during the dream, I got drunk. Like really, really, rip-roaring drunk. Off whiskey sours. Is it even possible to get that drunk off whiskey sours??? Anywho... I was drunker than I've ever come anywhere close to being in real life (which really wouldn't be that difficult seeing as how I've only ever been drunk like twice in my life). And that would have been cool too, except that when I woke up my first thoughts were getting that drunk sounds like a really good idea. I wish I could get that drunk right now.

That scared me.

Then I went and weighed myself and I had gained an additional 2.5lbs from the 1lb I gained last week, putting me up from my low of 189 back to 192.5 and I didn't even have the capacity to be upset. I just laughed because WHAT THE FUCK. Even though I do yoga regularly and I just ran somewhere near a 12 minute mile (a whole mile! Without stopping!) for the first time, I still gained weight. But I just didn't have it in me to be upset about it.

That concerned me.

And I had this job interview that I think (thought?) went well, so I sent them my references and a writing sample two weeks ago at their request, and then I got a call from the firm on Monday saying that my information had mistakenly not been sent to the hiring partner and he wouldn't have a chance to look at it until Thursday. Which means he probably won't make a decision until next week. Which means my Christmas wish for a job won't come true, and I'll have to return this gorgeous dress I bought (being confident that I would have a job in the near future... that was probably a really dumb move) in order to pay my bills.

Not so much fun.

The other day I decided I needed to stop watching Lifetime/Oxygen/ABC Family Christmas romance movies because they all have happy endings and I'm currently living through a demonstrably non-happy ending, especially in regards to my completely, utterly, not even a little bit existent love life. Same goes for romance books, which if you know me, is basically like me telling you I'm going to start hanging around with rich, White, conservatives for fun. Shit makes no sense. And yet, I'm actually gonna stop. The book I previewed on Amazon last night about vaginas and other gynecological concerns (google pelvic prolapse. Please.) was pretty interesting. So, with all that said...

I think I'm depressed.

S.

On Music.

I used to really enjoy music. No, scratch that-- I used to LOVE music. I had fancy color-coordinated CD towers in my room filled with all the coolest and most up to date music available. And then CDs went out and iPods came in and I totally got one of those and filled it up with all kinds of cool and diverse music: Nina Simone, Karl Jenkins, Alicia Keys, Crystal Kay, Usher, Common... you name it, I had it or something close to it. I loved my music, and my music loved me.

But then, things changed.

Somewhere along the line, some fool person decided it wasn't enough to just like music. Nay, it wasn't enough to LOVE music. No, unless you were a complete douche about music, you clearly had no freaking idea what you were talking about and might as well spend your time listening to the rhythmic click of an old school typewriter. Somehow, it became too little to simply listen to what you liked, or nod your head to what came on the radio, or stumble upon some song in an old movie that you happened to fall in love with. No, listening to music became a job.

You must seek out new music. Listen to what comes on the radio? Kill yourself. Slowly. In a very painful manner. DON'T YOU KNOW NOTHING GOOD COMES ON THE RADIO ANYMORE? Listen to old music? Unless you found a .45 in a dusty bin in the drafty corner of that out of the way music/corner/medical marijuana store, your find is null and void and you might as well shoot yourself in the kneecap. Listen to what you like? Only acceptable if only 1/10 of the U.S. population knows who the artist is and of those only 3.9% enjoy the music. Otherwise, you shall be banished to a small windowless room and subjected to white noise torture in the form of J. Cole, Childish Gambino (really, people? REALLY? When he comes out with a song entitled "I got all you fools to call me Immature Baby and you fell for it", don't come crying to me.), Iggy Azalea, and Jean Grae.

You must not enjoy popular music. Unless you're in the club. And you're drunk. Because everyone knows the regular rules don't apply when you're drunk in the club. In those limited circumstances, feel free to shake, wind, and roll all you want to Beyonce', Drake, Rick Ross... wait, Rick Ross actually gets a pass from like everybody. He's essentially the fat baby Jesus of music. I'm not sure why this is. Anyway, I digress...

The point is, liking music takes too much work now. So I've decided that I simply won't.

No more updating my iPod. No more downloading songs that interest me. I'll listen to what I've already got cause I'm cheap and I paid for all that stuff and I don't believe in wasting money, but that's it! No more music. Forget Wall Street, I'm occupying my iTunes until further notice.

And all you self-proclaimed music lovers, you of the "I can't breathe without music; music is my life, my heart, and my soul, #TeamUndergroundMusic #TeamIWearCrewNeckSweatshirts #TeamI'mBetterThanYouBecauseMyFavoriteArtistHasn'tEvenBeenBornYet(#TeamWombMusic)" Twitter bios, can all take pride in having caused the destruction of my love for music. But don't worry, I'll be back. And when I am, I'm bringing these guys with me, just to piss. you. off.

S.

If Cover Letters Told the Truth

Dear Ms. Woman Who Reads 592 of These a Day and Probably Wants to Shoot Herself in the Eye,

I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not going to fill this letter with the same bunch of subtle compliments about this company that every job hunter has been told to include in order to indicate that I've researched and read up on this company and have my pick of the litter and couldn't imagine a more fascinating and exciting job opportunity than This. Exact. Job. You see, the truth is that right now I'd take pretty much any job that would allow me to pay at least the interest on my school loans and didn't involve scrubbing toilets and/or wearing a hair net. Cause that's just gross. But other than that, I'm totally open. I don't think that's asking too much.

I know in this part of the letter I'm supposed to regale you with stories of my work experience. But see, here's the thing: I ain't got none. I mean, I have summer work experience, and that totally counts (right? RIGHT?) but as for actual real-life-longer-than-two-months-going-every-day-work? Yeeeeah, not so much. But that's clearly not my fault! And actually, it's evidence of how good a worker I am; I did EXACTLY what my superiors (a.k.a. parents and teachers) told me to do. I went to school, then went to school some more, then went a little more. Now, the way I understand it, that was SUPPOSED to culminate in people like you throwing job offers at my doorstep. No one ever said anything about working a real job! How was I to know book learning wasn't enough? On the bright side, when you call me in for an interview and ask me to describe one negative attribute I possess, I've got a slam dunk answer-- "I've found that in the past I have not always looked as far outside the box as I should. But I recognize the problem and am working diligently to embrace my creative side." BAM! HOW YA LIKE ME NOW?

Let's recap. I'm young, I have little to no experience but a crap load of education, I have pretty much no idea what I want to do with my life, and your company is just one of many I'm sending this cover letter out to. There is absolutely nothing special about you except for the fact that you've yet to convert to a completely online, automated, job search system, which is why you're getting this letter in the first place (lucky me!). Additionally, I need to make at least $80,000 a year to justify attending one of the most expensive law schools in one of the most expensive cities in the country... and so the Department of Education doesn't break down my door for defaulting on my loans like this guy. I'm sure we can make this work, and I look forward to hearing from you!

Sincerely,
S.

P.S. Just found out I passed the bar, so that minimum salary requirement just went up $10k. Ok? Ok!

A Prayer

Dear God,

Thank you. Thank you for carrying me this far, for knowing my heart, and for accepting me as I am. I have my life, my health, my family, and my friends, and I am so incredibly thankful for it all.

But God, I'm scared.

I feel so... stuck. I have no idea where to go from here. I've done everything expected of me, everything I set out to do, so why do I still feel so unsure of myself? Of my abilities? Of my place in the world? I expected to end this chapter of my life in a completely different space than I'm in right now... nothing's as I thought it would be. What is my purpose? My friends are out to change the world, and I'm just trying to find something I won't hate doing everyday for the next few years. At 25, I thought the world would be my oyster, but instead I'm sitting on my mother's couch, nothing to do, terrified all I have in front of me is a sea of days just like this one and the one before it. I can't think of anything that excites me career-wise, and although I say it in a joking manner, it kills me every time someone asks me what field I'm looking to get into and my response is "one that pays" or "I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up."

Lord, I don't want to joke about that. I want to be able to say confidently and assuredly that I am interested in X, Y, and Z. I've always had a plan, always had a mission, and it kills me every day that I seem to be standing at the precipice of a cliff with no where to go and no way to get there.

So God, this is my prayer.

Lord, please don't let me be afraid to step out on faith. Don't let me be so full of fear and apprehension that I miss out on the signs you put right in front of me. Let me have faith in myself and more faith that you will work things out as they should be. Let me not be afraid to fail. If I fail, Lord let me have the strength to try again. Lord, let me open my heart and my mind to all the opportunities available to me, even if they seem completely out of line with what I've taught myself I should want. Let me not be afraid to try new things, and let my fear be a motivator instead of a hindrance. Lord, help me to remember that my friends want only the best for me, and that I should rejoice in their successes, not take it as a personal affront against my own abilities.

Finally Lord, please help me to remember that everything happens when it is supposed to happen. Help me to remember that good things come to those who wait. Even when I don't understand the timeline, help me to remember that it will be OK, and I am meant to learn something every day of this experience. Lord, please just... help.

Amen.

Hello? Hello?? Is Anyone There???

Hi. My name is Samantha and I run this little corner of the world. You might have forgotten about me because I've been MIA for the past oooh.... 3.5 months or so. Sorry about that.

Actually no, I'm not sorry. Girlfriend was busy! Like, legit busy, not "oh I'd rather paint my nails or hang out with friends or cuddle with my hunkahunk of burning love" busy.

So, what have I been up to? Glad you asked!

1. I took my last set of finals EVER. No more celebrating my birthday with outlining or paper-writing! Whoop whoop! Thanks for the birthday flowers, Mom!

2. I graduated from Georgetown University Law Center. #Boom

3. I studied for and took the Michigan Bar Exam. Ten weeks of nothing but class, study, sleep. Everyday felt like Wednesday. I think my friends thought I died. My neighbor asked me in July if I had just gotten home because it was the first time he'd seen me all summer. I got back in May. It was a horrible horrible time that I hope I never have to revisit. There are no pictures of me doing this because I was too busy trying not to shoot myself in the head for deciding to become a lawyer.

Picture Courtesy of SpicyMarshmallow.blogspot.com

4. Found a Man.

HA! Fooooooled you!!!!!

5. Lost some weight. Actually, I've kind of lost a lot of weight since the last time I verbally vomited all over your computer screen. Here are some pics! P.S. Sorry for the blurriness of the pictures, the natural light was giving the flux. (hehehe, I love that saying.)

 I'm not sure where I was the last time we talked, but as of yesterday I am sitting pretty at 193 lbs. That's down 27 lbs since I started Weight Watchers (yup, still on it), and 49 lbs since I started on this weight loss journey in March 2009. Go Samma, it's your birthday, get busy ::does patented happy dance::

If you follow me on Twitter, you may remember me excitedly tweeting a couple weeks ago that I could finally put on a pair of jeans that I haven't worn since the beginning of junior year of college-- 2006, but that they were still a bit snug. Behold the transformation!

Please ignore my dirty mirror, whatever I put on it as a child permanently defaced it.

Look, no overhang!!

As you can see, the jeans legit fit now, and they are actually the only pants I currently have in my possession that don't make me look like I'm walking around with a dirty diaper on. Which, you know, is probably a good thing.

Alrighty, that's my quick update. I'll be back with a much more emo post ( I KNOW you all love those!) soonish. Studying for the bar totally suppressed my crazy, but Oh.Em.Gee. is it back. This will be fun.

S.

Do Me Right, Weight Watchers. Do Me Right.

Time for a Weight Watchers update!!

Let me tell you guys something-- I am in this win to this. Bought a food scale and everything! And, ending the day with points left makes me waaaay happier than it should. It's actually rather sad. But let's move on to the important stuff...

After five weeks on the program, I have lost 12.5 lbs!! Whoop Whoop! *Does patented happy dance*

Can you see a difference from last time?

So, that brings my weight down to 207.5.

#winning #duh

I gain weight pretty evenly and lose it the same, so I'm not sure I see much of a difference, but it's great to see the number on the scale!

I set my next goal at 198 lbs. I'm crossing my fingers that I can make it by graduation, which would be INCREDIBLE. I haven't been under 200 since the summer after my sophomore year at Michigan, guys. Mess around and have me naked out here this summer... hehehehe... ;)

Go Me!

S.

One Day I'm Going to Write Something Really Profound

And it will be AMAZING.

One day, I'm going to find the exact right words for the exact right moment and everyone will read it and cock their head to the side and squint their eyes and think.

They will think.

And then their eyes will get big and they'll take a deep breath and find themselves smiling a personal little half smile and their heart will beat a little faster or maybe flutter a bit and they'll shake their head and smile bigger or maybe bite their lip and they will feel it.

They will feel it.

And then they'll retweet it or reblog it or Facebook-like it or print it off and put it on their walls or write it in their personal journal and look at it whenever they need that feeling or that smile or those words again. And my words will have meant something and had an impact and made someone feel some kind of way and I will be happy.

One day I'm going to write something really profound. I'm going to find the exact right words for the exact right moment and I'm going to write the fuck outta those words.

And it will be epic.

S.

Fear.

Paralyzing, debilitating, all-encompassing fear.

That's what I've been feeling lately... Lately being subjective, as if I'm honest, I could probably say I've been legitimately feeling it for the greater percentage of my law school career.

It hit me today that my fear (of rejection?) is so complete that it's impacted literally every aspect of my life. It seems like I'm afraid of EVERYTHING, and I hate it. I. Hate. It. I HATE IT.

I don't know when this fear started, or why it's manifesting itself so totally now but I feel like it's taking over my life and if I don't get a hold of it now it's going to spiral out of control and I'll be the crazy cat lady featured on a "Special Episode" of Hoarders who hasn't left her house in 15 years. P.s. That show gives me the ultimate creeps.

I'm so afraid that things won't go the way I want them to that instead I do nothing. Take no chances, strike out on zero limbs... nothing.

This doesn't make sense! I know that I am accomplished. I know that I am successful. I KNOW that I'm going to be damn good at whatever I decide to do once I figure out what that is.

But I'm scared.

So scared that it's taken me over a week to work up the courage to call a successful sports agent my cousin happens to be friends with. Not to ask for a job. Not to "network". To simply ask for advice. How did you get where you are? What do you think about the path I'm taking? Realistically, I KNOW this man is going to be gracious and giving and wonderful, but in crazy Samantha World, I'm going to say something that's going to make him think I'm a complete idiot. And I just can't let that happen.

I'm so scared that I keep putting off sending my resume' out to family friends who have asked for it, because I'm afraid they'll look at it and see my lack of experience and decide there's nothing they can do for me. And I just couldn't handle it if that happened.

I'm so scared that I keep putting off working on my bar application because if I turn it in I have to actually take the test and what if I don't pass??? I don't think I could bounce back from that.

I'm scared of change because it means I have to open myself up to the possibility that things won't go the way I've planned it in my head. So instead, I hold on to the status quo for dear life, even with the knowledge that while it may be my lifeline to keep from drowning, it's also an anchor tethering me to my present, and to mediocrity, and to a life I've never envisioned myself living.

But I'm scared of the life I want. Because that life means new people, and new experiences, and new places, and new opportunities to make a fool of myself. But it also means fun, and excitement, and love, and happiness, and joy, and fulfillment, and growth, and pride. I want that.

I deserve that.

How am I supposed to conquer the world if I can't even conquer my fear?

S.

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.