Of Late.

Of late, I have been experiencing a lot of deep thoughts, big decisions, and generally a lot of things I have to think about and deal with. I admit that I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted, causing me to be unfit for His service or, in the least, a sad excuse for a girl.

I'm afraid I'm taking a bit of a writing sabbatical until things calm down. I'm trusting that God will pry these things from my white-knuckled grasp, whether or not I'm prepared to let them go.

Until next time, hopefully soon.

Chelsea

Last Year.

I thought it might be fun to look back on January last year, and guess what! I posted something on this day, one year ago! It happens to be one of my favorite posts, although I'm not sure I agree with all of it anymore.
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Originally posted January 23, 2008. I think I was sitting at Starbucks.

How beautiful fleeting moments are! I was thinking of a moment that both saddened me and yet made me cherish the moment even more. Have you ever had dinner with someone about to go away to war? Even takeout becomes a special day. What about time with someone you know is going to die soon, or a glorious day away from distractions, with those you love? What about putting your arms around someone, but knowing that they're not with you in heart, only in body? At least for a second you can believe that some part of them is yours. What seems ordinary becomes, in the context of time (which has no master) suddenly something you wish was tangible. Oddly, although moments hold qualities that would seem to be measurable, they are not. Oh, you can measure the time, the date, the people who were there, or the amount of seconds that you held that feeling that seemed so long. But you can't really measure the value and you certainly can't bottle the moment to be enjoyed later. Try putting experiences into a two week time frame, or a day, or a month, or a hundred years. A thousand wishes and broken watches won't stop the perpetual spin into another lifetime just seconds away.

Daily I'm reminded that all good things do, indeed, end. Perhaps this is because the constant flow of good and happiness only increases our desire for more beauty, more peace, more love, more of someone or something. I used to think that absence was painful- and it is, don't get me wrong- but it's a different kind of pain. There's the pain of knowing you can't have someone or something that fills one of those little cracks in your heart, and then there's the pain that couples with anticipation and longing for something that is possible. The beauty of the latter is that you learn to be independent but then cherish the time that you are together. I've felt the pain of both: The pain of never being able to have, and loneliness that comes with waiting.

I've had some gorgeous fleeting moments. I'll never forget my first kiss, my first achievement, or those thousands of moments when I was afraid I wasn't going to make it. I'm learning to enjoy those moments that are so deceivingly fleeting, while pausing to remember something from that moment that I can savor later. And in this fleeting moment, my laptop battery is slowing dripping its energy into oblivion, and I must stop typing before I lose all of this forever.... (which may, of course, not be such a bad thing)

The Blonde's Philosophy on Airports.

Airports are funny places.
Have you ever gone to an airport, and really watched what is going on? I know it's hard when you are trying to keep track of your luggage, and your feet hurt, and you're afraid your gate got changed and you missed the announcement. I, for one, am always afraid about having to put my carry-on items on the counter/floor/hook in the sketchy bathroom. Because if someone takes your precious bag, it could very well end up across the world! It's not like losing your bag at the mall, where you could easily catch up with the thief.

But I digress.
Anyways, one time I was at the airport, I made a point to pay attention to the people. I was waiting to leave somewhere I wanted to stay, and I said goodbye to someone I didn't want to say goodbye to. The worst part was the three hours before takeoff; thinking and people watching and juggling my coffee, purse, and carryon. The armrest was digging into my ribcage and the high heels were really starting to dig into my feet and a great fear was starting to dig into my heart. And I started thinking that airports are similar to hospitals, in that they are pretty clear with their intention. Hospitals can be sad, where people are sick and die. Hospitals can be extraordinarily happy; a place where babies are born. Hospitals can be neutral, a place where you go to get better and hopefully never return. If you watch the people who mill around the baggage claim, it is interesting to watch their faces. I have never understood why two people greet each other with such lukewarm excitement, especially two people who appear that they are in love. I mean, your honey just got off an airplane! He's ok! And he's walking through a sea of people to find YOU and your smiling face!

So I have a philosophy about airports.
1. Never, ever drop someone off at the curb, unless they are going to seriously miss their plane, and only if you had something to do with them being late. (ie, spending too much time kissing goodbye.) And then you must apologize profusely.
2. Always arrive early enough to be found; sometimes cell phones don't work in the airport.
3. If you are the one flying out, and your ride offers to drop you off at the curb, make a mental note of it. It may mean nothing- or everything.

Airports are scary places. Maybe I'm the only one who does this, but whenever I fly I always imagine that it could be the end. Dramatic, I know. I pray during and after takeoff and I tell myself that I have Jesus if the plane goes down. I still get white knuckles. But when I get to where I'm going, I am so happy to see whoever I'm going to see. And you know what? You can tell a lot about a person by the way they greet you.

The end.

For my friend.

A week stolen and

Today too tired

It shuffled and stacked itself 

Sleeping in tomorrows "in" box

Waiting to be held and

Yet dreading the resulting decision

Stamped and labeled and

Put with all the other papers

Some crisp and creamy and whole

Some with edges torn and bent

And some yet to be taken from a pad

Why is it the bent and crumpled paper

Is treated so harshly?

Scratch pads and jotted notes that hold no future

No future with the writer except phone numbers

Sadly found again in the

washing machine's tumble with shirts

And socks and jean pockets and gum past its flavor

Should we not instead treat it gently

And with respect and embellish with

Ink so fine it would not bleed through

To the other side and steal from the only beauty left

From a side no one sees

And then folded and kissed and sent 

On its way to someone who will cherish

The words and letters inside though 

We no longer hold a desire or need for it

Paper and a girl's heart are not all that different

And sometimes, dear friend, I wish that wasn't so. 

Dictionary.

My friends came up with something called chelseawords because I make up words randomly. After I explain what I meant to say, it is added to the chelsea.dictionary.

Justilying:

"I didn't call even though I said I would because I thought you might be washing your hair."

"I would have put gas in the car but I didn't know if you preferred regular or premium."

Acci-Guilt:

Accidentally inducing guilt. May come across as manipulative, but isn't.

Cub-Hug:

Like a bear hug, but doesn't squeeze you to death.

Textual Harassment:

btw, @ .5 ea., culd b a prblm.

Theeping:

What happens when you stay in bed to do your deep thinking.

Road Grace:

Let it go. He didn't mean to cut you off. Ok, he did, but still let it go.

Heshe:

Protecting the innocent... and guilty.

Cellfish:

Overhearing the cell conversation by the woman sharing intimate details about her relationship/health problems/headache.

See also: Fishbowl Syndrome that causes one to be completely unaware of his/her surroundings.

("And then I was like, No he DIDN'T! And then she was like, "Oh yes he DID!")

CheckMate:

A spouse-type-mental check-off.

"When he heard me say I make a mean Pop-Tart, I saw his eyes go all CheckMate on me."

SameSox Marriage:

Laundry sorting.

ManFood:

Pot roast, macaroni and cheese, pizza, bacon, black coffee, Pop-Tarts, Cap'n Crunch, steak, potatoes (mashed), potatoes (home-fried), potatoes (baked), potatoes (fries), potatoes (au-gratin), potatoes...

ChelseaFood:

Chicken. Salad. Peppermint mocha lattes.

Moment...Ummmm....

Running into Target to "get something quick" and then getting distracted and finding a sale and stumbling into the makeup section and remembering that your towels are starting to look tattered and how are we on Tide? Oh yeah and paper towels and trash bags andddd SHOES!!!!

Random, Delicate Thoughts.

Ok, so I'm trapped here on the couch because I'm sick and thinking about a whole lot of things. I'd much rather be out doing something- anything, really. Except pumping gas because you know how I hate to do that. Oh, and leaf blowing. WHO LEAF BLOWS on a Saturday afternoon? I can just pictures some putz of a man sitting there on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Or maybe he's not a putz, but an attractive, fit man. Anyways. "Hey baby, I'm going to go out and use the leaf blower."

I'm sorry. I just don't see it.

It reminds me of the people I see using those little mini leaf blowers on the street downtown. I'm convinced that there are two shifts: One shift that blows the leaves off the street, and the other shift that blows the leaves on the sidewalk, from the street. And I'm betting that sometimes the shifts overlap and one guy says to the other, "Dude! You just blew leaves on my sidewalk."

"Sorry, man."

So the other day I went to the post office. Now, every morning I go to the post office downtown. Naturally, I've struck up a certain good morning/head nod/have a great day type of relationship with the mail persons.

Last week the mailman was running behind; No problem, I'll get it later.

The next day he said, "Miss, I'm sorry about yesterday. Y'know what happened right after you left? I found your bucket of mail!"

"Awww, bummer!"

"I was going to bring it to you, but....

I didn't know where you worked."

Think about it.

Sick.

Ohhhh I have the FLU and all I can do is be in bed and cough and sniffle!
Shoots a whole Friday and Saturday!
Boo.

Panes.

Deftly he moves
Up and down
Over here and there
Such different worlds
I'm looking out
He's looking in
Up, down, up, down, side to side
Dappled colors, water spots
Left there from rains and hands past
Arms and Windex work their magic
And the cafe' windows shine again




:)

The Name's Blonde.

J. is one of the funniest people I know. I don't know what it is, but if you get he and I together we laugh and laugh and tell stupid jokes and we make fun of our differences. Early Wednesday morning I took him to the airport for his fantastical trip to NYC for the great ball drop.

______

C: Here, put your bags in the back seat.

J: Whatever. You just wanted to get out of the car to show off your boots and dress and whatever.

C: I did NOT! They are nice, though, aren't they?

______

J: You're straight today. What's that all about? I mean, you're straight every day. I mean, your hair is straight today. I mean... Geez, that was awkward. I'm going to stop talking now.

______

J: That blonde in Starbucks was cute. No ring. And a Coach bag.

C: I don't like Coach bags. Especially little ones. She had nice shoes though. I bet she's really high maintenance.

J: You're right. Besides, I'm leaving town today!

C: Just for the weekend, J. Sheesh!

J: Nope! I'm leaving town today!

______

C: You need a high maintenance woman like that. She would be good for you.

J: I know, I know. What does that mean, and more importantly, what does that say about me, you know, as a person?

C: Did you know surrogate mothers make $40,000 a year?

J. "....."

C: "......"

(silence.)

C: What?

J: I just get worried. Every time you say stuff like that to me, it makes me think you're about to pitch some idea you have.

C: No, no, noooo. I meant that having a high maintenance wife is still cheaper than hiring a surrogate to have your children. Sheesh!

______

J: Well, since we don't have to spend a lot of time hugging at the airport, here, look over this school project for my class.

______

J: At least let me get you a latte for the drive to the airport.

C: Ok. It's really not that complicated! I mean it really isn't! I don't see what the big deal is when I go out on dates. It's just a grande-decaf-peppermint-white-mocha-two pumps peppermint-two pumps white mocha-SOY- latte... did I say Soy?

The end.

Oh, What To Post?

Happy New Year, everyone! I intentionally did not post anything yesterday, because everyone posts all sorts of resolutions and good intentions for New Years, and frankly I'm not sure that I'm the type of girl who can handle that pressure. Because if I put resolutions up here, then I'll get all stressed out about following them. Besides, if you are a regular reader, you'll find that I make up resolutions throughout the year anyways, whenever the whim strikes me on an area of change and/or improvement.

If you are interested in seeing what my resolutions were that I posted last year, click here.

I'm not going to get up at the crack of dawn to go running. I've always loved running, and yes, I've been away from it for a couple of months now. But you know what? I also love sleeping. Or "theeping," as I call it. One magical day of January 1 isn't going to change that. I'll start when I'm good and ready.

I'm also not going to go on a drastic diet. I love my curves and I love dinners out and my lattes in the morning (and night) and I loooove good, healthy wholesome food, so there's no need to get stressed out about what to eat. Life's too short.

I want to note that no one, and I mean no one, is as hard on me as I am on myself. Whatever expectations there are, add ten to that, and you'll get an idea to the standards I hold myself to. Whatever I mess up on, add ten to that, and that's what I go through. I KNOW I'm not up to the par I set for myself last year. It's another day, another year, and another opportunity to dream big. This is the year I live more, love more, give more, and unbox more.

Cheers!