tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33799813241104977672024-03-21T21:02:15.809-07:00the other side of somedayChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-79611431111970264712012-01-13T06:33:00.000-08:002012-01-13T06:33:06.483-08:00Being Big.For the few people who actually read this, you will notice my last post has been taken down. While I posted it in a joking manner (the stories were true, my attitude was meant to be taken as fun loving, ha ha, people are silly) I received some...negative feedback. I thought about retaliation and being equally as mean, however, I don't want that on my conscience.<br />
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I want to be the kind of person <b>I </b>want to be. I don't want to be someone who can't forgive, who can't apologize, who can't be someone that others would want to spend time with. I want to be the kind of person that my parents can be proud of, the kind of person people want to be friends with, the kind of person I look for when I choose my friends.<br />
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So this is me apologizing to those out there who were upset by my last post. I didn't mean it as a personal attack or to make you feel small about yourself. I meant it as a "let's all laugh about this" kind of thing. The thing about apologizing is I don't know if I expect forgiveness so much as you just need to know that I have.<br />
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On a cheerier note, I'm employed!<br />
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Love, ChelseaChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-45412251577475076742012-01-11T14:47:00.000-08:002013-05-01T14:29:18.137-07:00A post about BOYS. And the stupid things they do.Yes, I am still alive. It's been quite sometime but I'm still here. And I'm about to do something I did not think I ever would for fear that people mentioned may find and read this. However, said people aren't really important in my life so I'm doing it anyway.<br />
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This is a post to almost all the boys I've dated and the stupid stuff they've done to me. I hope you can laugh about them like I have and if you happen to be one of the offenders...I'm not looking for an apology and I'm definitely not hung up on you [and I hope you've grown from the experience and if not can learn a little something today!]<br />
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STUPID THINGS BOYS SHOULD NEVER DO [the following are all true experiences with the least amount of exaggeration added and definitely not in chronological order.]<br />
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1. Don't buy me an ID bracelet. I know my name. Just a cute piece of jewelry without my name on it is fine.</div>
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2. Don't ask me on a date to a fancy restaurant, break your arm the day before, make me cut up all your food for you PLUS carry your dessert from the buffet and then ask me to pay.</div>
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3. Don't be talking to me, bring up something personal, and then say, "Oh actually my girlfriend is here right now and I don't feel comfortable talking about it right now. Want to come over around 11 or so tonight?"</div>
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4. Don't blow a raspberry on my neck. Or try to on my stomach. Or my foot. I AM NOT 3.</div>
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5. Don't tell my friends that while you don't believe I will be good at something you still think I need to do it because I need to learn to be an adult and grow up. You tried to blow a raspberry on my stomach!</div>
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6. Don't tell me that you've received revelation that I need to go on a mission. (MORE THAN ONE BOY!)</div>
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7. Don't date me off and on for several months and then show up to church with your girlfriend and make ME sit next to her and answer the awkward question of, "so how do you know these guys?"</div>
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8. Don't ask me for help filling out scholarships and reading your poorly written essays, kiss me, tell me I'm wonderful and then inform me that you'd ask your girlfriend (now wife) but she isn't exactly the smartest.</div>
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9. Don't take me on a date and tell me beforehand that the last girl you took here was in better shape than me and you aren't sure if I'll be able to make it all the way.</div>
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10. Don't hint at getting my number repeatedly, steal my phone and put it in with any of the synonyms for "Stud" or "Hunk" and then introduce me to your fiance later that evening.</div>
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11. Don't take me to a family get together, insist I be in the family photo for the blog and then grab my butt as the picture is being taken.</div>
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12. Don't date me off and on for several months and then later inform me that you, "Never actually had any feelings" for me.</div>
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13. Don't call me a B***h and then say you only call me that because you love me.</div>
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14. Don't get gum stuck in my hair while we're watching a movie and then not tell me! Do you know how hard it was to get out!?</div>
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15. Don't take me to "the most redneck restaurant I could find" because I wear cowboy boots and grew up in a small town.</div>
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16. Don't squeeze my side and say, "Vending machines?"</div>
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17. Don't tell me I've been having trouble getting dates because, "Well, it's hard to get dates when you aren't pretty. I'm sure you can find something else to try and make up for it. Maybe you should wear lower cut shirts."</div>
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18. Don't ask if I lost all the weight out of my boobs when you haven't seen me in a while and I'm skinnier.</div>
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19. Don't dump me and in the same minute ask me where I'd like to be married.</div>
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20. Don't text me the day after you've told me that you never had feelings for me and ask how I am and other questions about my personal life. Once you've told someone you not only don't have feelings for them but NEVER did, you aren't privy to their personal life.</div>
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There are so many more but I'm tired of reliving my horrific dating life. Does anyone else have anything horrible a guy said or did to you? Please share so I don't feel like I'm the only "Tool Magnet!"<br />
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Love, Chelsea<br />
<br />Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-62974152543958764942011-12-02T13:24:00.001-08:002011-12-02T14:17:49.497-08:00Being Different.I've been sitting here for a good hour trying to figure out how to start this post. What I really should be doing is packing since I'm leaving tomorrow at 6 am to move back to Utah. However, I am easily distracted and someone had posted an article on facebook. <a href="http://www.danoah.com/2011/11/im-christian-unless-youre-gay.html" target="_blank">I'm Christian, unless you're gay</a>. I would encourage everyone to read it. Think about it. I have been and as hard as I have tried to finish loading my car, I can't. I have too many thoughts and words in my head right now to be able to focus on anything else. <br />
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I was raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I served a mission for the church. I go to church every Sunday and would consider myself a Christian. "Mormons" as we are more commonly known have gotten a lot of flack for being "Homophobes" especially concerning Prop 8. I am not an official representative of the Church nor can I make an official statement for all members everywhere, but I can tell you what I think and believe. Please don't stop reading because I'm not about to try and convert you to "Mormonism." While my religion has very much shaped me into the person I am today, I will do my best to keep to phrases that everyone who reads this will understand although I will use (and define) some terms that relate to the Church.<br />
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As I said before, I was raised in the Church. I was baptized at age 8 and I even attended Brigham Young University-Provo, the notorious "Mormon School". I also served a mission for the Church. (Mine was cut short due to medical problems) Needless to say that I very much believe what the LDS Church teaches. One such principle that I would like to quickly put a definition to is "free agency". I didn't know that many people didn't understand this term so briefly it means that we believe each of us is responsible and free to make our own decisions--no one makes them for us. Ultimately, we are in charge of our fate or destiny or whatever term you would like to use. This has always made sense to me. I may be influenced in one way or another but what I choose is ultimately my own choice. <br />
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I'd like to relate this term with the aforementioned article. No, not in a "You choose to be gay" way. That's not what I mean at all. I believe we all have our own struggles and whether or not being gay is a choice or not isn't my concern right now. As Single Dad Laughing, Dan, said in his article, <br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"I think it doesn’t matter if you or I or anybody else thinks homosexuality is a sin. It doesn’t matter if you or I think <em>anything</em><em> </em>is a sin. It doesn’t matter if homosexuality is a <em>sin</em> or not. In fact, it doesn’t matter if <em>anything</em> anybody else does is a sin or not.</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Because sin is a very personal thing! It always has been and it always will be!"</span></strong></div>
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This is where "free agency" comes in. Dan expressed great concern for writing his article for fear of backlash. I write this knowing that there will be many people who read this who will disagree with what I have to say and how I interpret things, however, I am not afraid to share my beliefs. I'm not afraid to stand for what I believe. And right now, I want to stand for what I believe and I want to exercise my free agency.</div>
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I believe in LOVE. I believe in making the choice to accept people. There is a big distinction between accepting people and accepting actions or decisions. I said before, I have very strong beliefs. However, the strongest belief I have is that of love. I have a firm belief in loving people despite their actions that I might find "sinful" or "wrong". I am amongst a minority because I am a Mormon. I have heard nasty hate filled words from people. I even have lost friends because, "I can't be your friend if you keep going to the Mormon church because that means you are going to hell." I wasn't very old when this happened and it broke my heart. How is it that someone can judge me and not want to reach out and be my friend simply for my beliefs? I've been taught that God will judge us and I believe that. I believe that it is my responsibility to do MY best on this earth. I will live up to what I believe is right and I will make sure that I feel comfortable with where I stand in God's eyes. </div>
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Therefore, it isn't my place to look at someone and spew hate and venom in their direction because they make a choice that I believe is wrong. Where would that put me on my own personal standing? I believe that each of us is a child of God. We are literally Heavenly Father's children. He loves each of us so why shouldn't I? No, I will not participate in things I find wrong, but I won't stop being a friend. No, I'm not gay, but I have very dear loved ones and friends who are. Simply because they are gay does not mean that they are any worse at listening, talking, laughing, loving, sharing, and being a human being than any other person. I love them. I love my friends who have tatoos, piercings, different colored hair, different religious beliefs. And it's not just my friends I love, I hold no animosity towards anyone else who has chosen their own path in life (once again, I do not mean this in a way that I believe gays choose to be attracted to the same sex. Whether or not that is the case doesn't concern me because they are still people.)</div>
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I have chosen my path and to some it may seem strange. I have chosen to be a Mormon and I have chosen to be different--to stand out from the crowd in my own way. I have chosen to stand up for what I believe and I will not stand down. I have a moral compass and it points to love. </div>
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I know that at times I've made less than kind decisions in my life but I'm not perfect. I just do my best every day to be the kind of person my parents and my Heavenly Father can be proud of. I do my best to offer a helping hand to those in need, to smile as often as I can, to put my arm around someone and let them know I appreciate who they are. I hope that others can see the love I have for them. That I care about them as a PERSON. That you can't be defined by the piercings you have, the tatoos you have, or who you are attracted to. I believe you are defined by how you treat others. </div>
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A little food for thought: How do you treat others who are different from you? </div>
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I don't normally receive many responses to posts that I have put up so if you have an opinion I would love to hear it. I'd like to challenge everyone to make a new friend this week--someone who is different than you, someone you may have deemed "weird" before. As I've come to know, outside appearances really don't amount to much. </div>
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With love,</div>
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Chelsea</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-43102772481002663342011-11-19T22:38:00.001-08:002011-11-19T22:42:23.336-08:00Home.I officially gave my "homecoming" talk last Sunday. Being home is really interesting. Mostly just because I wasn't expecting to be here but I am fortunate enough to have a loving home to come back to. Anyway, here is my homecoming talk. (I'm a bum and wanted an easy post. It is kind of long though.) <br />
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with love, Chelsea</div>
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Writing this talk was a little difficult for me. A lot easier than writing about the first topic I was given—the millennium. Thankfully I was asked to instead speak on my mission experience. As most everyone is aware, my mission experience was much shorter than anticipated and I never made it out of the MTC. I had so many wonderful experiences in my short time that it’s difficult to express my feelings about my mission. What is even more difficult is trying to put into words what my mission did for me. I learned more about myself and who I was, and more importantly who I was in Heavenly Father’s plan, than I have at any other time in my short 21 years here on earth. </div>
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Picking out what to talk about proved to be pretty hard. I thought long and hard about it though and decided to share a couple things that have quite literally changed who I am. First, I’ll share something that I discovered on my own and then I’ll follow up with a talk that Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles gave to the missionaries while I was at the MTC.</div>
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The MTC is nothing short of…well…a magical place in all honesty. Everyone will have their own feelings and opinions about their experiences in the MTC but I loved it. You are amongst some of the most amazing individuals 24/7—except for those who work there as teachers and janitors and security guards, everyone there is set apart. You are surrounded by hundreds of people who have the mantel of the Lord upon them and the feeling in the MTC is one you would be hard pressed to find in any other place. There is the greatest feeling of love, acceptance, and the Spirit of God. You spend your time studying the Gospel of Jesus Christ so that you might be able to help others and change their lives. The catch with this is that you can’t help change other people’s lives until you’ve changed your own. </div>
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One of the many things that changed who I was was an experience I had while reading in Ether 2. This is the story of the Brother of Jared. At this particular point, the Brother of Jared has built barges with which to cross to the promise land but is concerned because there is no light or air in the barges. In verses 22-25 he discusses this problem with the Lord. </div>
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<span class="verse2"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">22 </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">And he cried again unto the Lord saying: O Lord, behold I have done even as thou hast commanded me; and I have prepared the vessels for my people, and behold there is no light in them. Behold, O Lord, wilt thou suffer that we shall cross this great water in darkness?</span></div>
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<a href="" name="23"><span style="color: #486fae; font-family: Arial;"> </span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: 23;"></span><span class="verse2"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">23 </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">And the Lord said unto the brother of Jared: What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessels? For behold, ye cannot have <sup>a</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">windows</span></a>, for they will be dashed in pieces; neither shall ye take fire with you, for ye shall not go by the light of fire.</span></div>
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<a href="" name="24"><span style="color: #486fae; font-family: Arial;"> </span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: 24;"></span><span class="verse2"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">24 </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">For behold, ye shall be as a <sup>a</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">whale</span></a> in the midst of the sea; for the mountain waves shall dash upon you. Nevertheless, I will bring you up again out of the depths of the sea; for the <sup>b</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">winds</span></a> have gone forth <sup>c</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">out</span></a> of my mouth, and also the <sup>d</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">rains</span></a> and the floods have I sent forth.</span></div>
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<a href="" name="25"><span style="color: #486fae; font-family: Arial;"> </span></a><span style="mso-bookmark: 25;"></span><span class="verse2"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">25 </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">And behold, I prepare you against these things; for ye cannot cross this great deep save I prepare you against the waves of the sea, and the winds which have gone forth, and the floods which shall come. Therefore what will ye that I should prepare for you that ye may have light when ye are swallowed up in the depths of the sea?</span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I know that I always heard my Sunday school teachers tell me to apply scriptures to my own life but until the very moment I read this scripture, I had struggled with applying what had happened hundreds and hundreds of years ago, to my own life. However, we know that the Book of Mormon was written for our days, with us in mind. We are the very people that the ancient prophets saw in visions. The long and short of it is I applied these scriptures to myself. Rather than reading this as the story of the Brother of Jared, I read it as my own story. I had been sick from almost the moment I entered the MTC with bronchitis and fatigue amongst other things. Didn’t this trial I was facing count as a “great water” as the Brother of Jared called it? The most life changing phrases I found as I read where the words of the Lord. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In verse 23 the Lord explains what the Brother of Jared can NOT have in the barges. No windows or fire. I’m sure we are all familiar with being told what we can’t have. However, in verses 24 and 25, the Lord describes to the Brother of Jared what his great journey will be like. For me, He described my life.</div>
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<span class="verse2"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">24 </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">For behold, ye shall be as a <sup>a</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">whale</span></a> in the midst of the sea; for the mountain waves shall dash upon you. Nevertheless, I will bring you up again out of the depths of the sea; for the <sup>b</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">winds</span></a> have gone forth <sup>c</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">out</span></a> of my mouth, and also the <sup>d</sup><a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/ether/2?lang=eng##"><span style="background: #f9f6ed; color: #2f393a;">rains</span></a> and the floods have I sent forth.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #486fae; font-family: Arial;"> </span><span class="verse2"><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">25 </span></span><span style="color: #2f393a; font-family: Arial;">And behold, I prepare you against these things; for ye cannot cross this great deep save I prepare you against the waves of the sea, and the winds which have gone forth, and the floods which shall come. Therefore what will ye that I should prepare for you that ye may have light when ye are swallowed up in the depths of the sea?</span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Heavenly Father gives us our challenges—they are from Him. As He says in verse 25, “..ye cannot cross this great deep save I prepare you…” His final words in chapter 2 are, “Therefore, what will ye that I should prepare for you that ye may have light when ye are swallowed up in the depths of the sea?” Rather than provide an answer for the Brother of Jared, Heavenly Father asks him what he wants. The Lord does this in our lives, too. While it may be frustrating because we want Him to just tell us what to do, we have our own agency and it is our life. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The story then continues in chapter 3. The Brother of Jared thinks about what he would ask of from the Lord and then goes before Him again. He has brought before the Lord 16 stones that he himself has made. He then bows before the Lord in humble prayer and asks that the Lord if might have these 16 stones be a light unto him in his travels through the sea. Once again, I read this as my own story and not the Brother of Jared’s. Heavenly Father loves me enough to give me challenges and to push me to become better. He also provides a way for me to overcome these challenges but doesn’t just give them to me. Instead, I must take before Him my own “16 Stones” that I have prepared so that the Lord might make them a light unto me in my journey. </div>
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I did just that. I wrote down my own “16 Stones”. I prayed about them and then presented them as things in my life that I would like to have to help me through my journey. As each of us is unique and each of our own stories are unique, our 16 Stones will be very different from each others, but I would like to share some with you. When I first came up with these stones, I was fully expecting to be on my mission for the next 18 months. Therefore, I wrote down what I thought would help me on my mission. What I didn’t know, is that as the Holy Ghost guided and directed me, I was actually writing down what would get me through this difficult part of my journey.</div>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Knowledge</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Charity</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Eyes to see tender mercies</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Change and the ability to accept change</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Obedience</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Strength</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">The companionship of the Holy Ghost</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">The gift of Discernment</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Family and Friend Support</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Diligence</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Humility</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">Virtue</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;">And Hope</li>
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I have a testimony that the Lord has blessed me with each of these gifts. I have a firm testimony that while our trials are hard and difficult and sometimes seemingly unbearable, that they are from the Lord. I can’t know what I know and look at the Lord and be angry with Him and ask, “Why me?” Instead, I know that this is my opportunity to develop an even stronger testimony of the love my Heavenly Father has for me and the true meaning of the Atonement. </div>
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Finally, I would like to share something that Elder Holland shared. His talk changed every aspect of my life. I don’t mean this with any exaggeration, either. If I could pinpoint a moment where my life changed, it would be during this talk. As part of his talk, he did a question and answer period. I don’t know that I have ever received that good of advice let alone a full hour of it. There were two questions though that impacted the way I conduct myself. The first question was this, “What is the most important thing that Jesus Christ wants us to know <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">right now</b>?”</div>
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Elder <city><place>Holland</place></city>’s response:</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">He told the truth. Everything that Jesus Christ said was true. You can believe Him and trust in the Lord with all thine heart.</b></div>
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I want everyone here to know that I know that Jesus Christ told the truth. I know that He is our Savior, He truly is the only Begotten Son of God. I know that what He taught about love, charity, virtue, integrity, all of it is true. I know that He suffered for ME and had it been that I were the only person who needed saving, that He would do it anyway. That He would do it for each of us and that He has. I know that He has felt what I am experiencing, what I have experienced, and what I will experience in my future. I believe Him. I don’t just believe IN Him, I believe Him. I believe all of His teachings and I strive to do my best to be someone that He can be proud of—who is worthy of the great sacrifice He made. </div>
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The second question was, “Why does God love us?”</div>
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Elder <city><place>Holland</place></city>’s response:</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“I am not perfect, there is nothing in this life that I can claim to be perfect at. However, I am nearly perfect in the love that I have for my children. There is not <u>anything </u>I would not do for my children in righteousness. If that is true for a simple man in mortality, how could it not be even <u>more so</u></b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">for our Heavenly Father who IS perfect. He gave the Perfect One for the imperfect ones. We literally, truly, eternally are His children.”</b></div>
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I know this to be true. Each night and each morning, I start my day off with a prayer. Sometimes it is a simple one, others it will last for quite some time. Why? Because I am speaking with my Father in Heaven and I know that He cares about me and wants to hear from me. I know that He cares for each of us and wants to hear from each of us. He wants us to sit down and tell him about our day—just like our parents did when we came home from school when we were little. He is our literal Father in Heaven and He always will be. He will always care for us and will always want the best for us. He wants to know what happened in my day even if it was the same thing that happened yesterday, even if I spent the day being sick. I know this to be true. </div>
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My mission was short but it changed me. I wouldn’t trade the experience. I wouldn’t have had my health taken care of before I left had I known what would happen. I know that the Lord has a specific plan for me and that I am where I need to be right now. I am so grateful for the gospel in my life. I can’t express the joy I experience by knowing that my family will be together through eternity. I know that my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me and I believe Him.</div>
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I say these things in the name of my Savior and Redeemer, Jesus Christ, amen. </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-13144875247882160682011-10-27T13:06:00.000-07:002011-10-27T13:06:13.239-07:00leaving footprintsYesterday was one of those days and I really wanted to write a blog post but just didn't feel well. Today is another one of those days only a little worse but I still wanted to do a post and I figure if I wait around for a good day I won't be posting for a LONG time. <br />
<br />
I was painting yesterday; sitting on the ground, barefoot in an oversize sweatshirt (pretty much normal). As I was painting I accidentally painted the bottom of my foot. I know you're wondering how it was an accident but it was just the way I was sitting and the angle. The very first thought that popped into my head was, "Well, that is certainly one way to leave footprints on this earth." <span style="font-size: x-small;">[And I'm not talking my </span><a href="http://www.go-green.com/node/21"><span style="font-size: x-small;">carbon footprint</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">.]</span><br />
<br />
Maybe it is just because I have so much time that I spend alone but I think. A LOT. And one thing I've been thinking about lately is how my actions affect others. I have a lot of trouble falling asleep at night because no matter what position I seem to be in it hurts so the other night I went back over my life thus far. <br />
<br />
I've lived in the same place for 12 years (minus college) and because it is such a small town I spent elementary school, middle school, and high school with the same people. I don't talk to almost any of them which seems so sad. The question is WHY? When I first started thinking about it, I approached it the same way I always have: I am <a href="http://mormon.org/">Mormon</a> and I chose to not participate in the partying and drinking which meant that I didn't have friends. As I was laying there, it suddenly hit me: That was NOT why I felt like I didn't have friends. I didn't have friends because I wasn't a real friend. I wanted so badly for others to reach out to me and be MY friend that I didn't bother to be that friend for others. <br />
<br />
Armed with that knowledge I want to apologize to all those I went to school with. I'm sorry for feeling sorry for myself for not having felt like I didn't have friends when I should have been a better friend. I want to apologize for anything I ever did that may have hurt or offended you, for anything I didn't do that I should have (like called to see if you were feeling ok, or give you a hug when you looked a little blue.) I hated high school but I know that we were all young and immature; we all said things we regret and I don't want those to be the footprints I have left on this earth. <br />
<br />
I hope I can leave footprints of love, compassion, kindness, knowledge, sympathy, charity, hope, virtue, integrity, honesty. I hope that I can touch someone's heart for good and that I'm remembered for having been someone who helped for the better and didn't cause a painful scar. I want to be able to leave my mark in a positive way. What kind of mark will you leave?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/4XZ12nrz47U?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-14553993434041130782011-10-25T15:36:00.000-07:002011-10-25T15:36:50.460-07:00the other side of somedayTwo blog posts in one day!? I know, I'm getting a little crazy but it's my blog. I just wanted to explain myself.<br />
<br />
Yeah, I changed the name of my blog.<br />
<br />
I always talk about, "Someday I'm going to..."<br />
<br />
Well, not any more. I've looked and haven't seen "someday" anywhere on any calendar. So I've decided that this is my someday and I'm going to make it what I want. <br />
<br />
[Way to get all deep, Chelsea, right? Alright so it's the more shallow side of deep but still.]Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-10954748086458407482011-10-25T14:18:00.000-07:002011-10-26T10:14:01.505-07:00Loving myself makes me want to sing.Today, I found <a href="http://whitehottruth.com/white-hot/the-manifesto-of-encouragement/">THIS.</a> <a href="http://whitehottruth.com/category/truisms-from-danielle/">And THIS.</a><br />
<br />
Ok, so that is a blatant lie. I'm sorry to have started this post off this way. It's been a while and yet I'm already telling lies. I apologize and promise to never let it happen again. <br />
<br />
Now, I'll be honest. I didn't find those today, in fact, I found them back sometime in June I think. I even started out a post by writing that one sentence and then promptly forgot about them. I think they mean a lot more to me now than when I found them, though. Why? Well, let me tell you what's been going on in my life.<br />
<br />
In June, I got <a href="http://chelsealovescupcakes.blogspot.com/2011/06/kissing.html">mono</a>. Finally, the time came that I left on my mission. July 27, 2011. I should have been gone for 18 months, right? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. I loved every second of my mission--even when it was hard, even when I had bronchitis. Amongst other health problems. Which brings us to why I was honorably released from my mission on September 21, 2011. Five days shy of leaving the MTC and going to New Mexico. Perhaps I'll share some of my mission stories (the few I have) at some other time.<br />
<br />
That brings us to now. I've been to the doctor several times since I've been home and have a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laparoscopic_surgery">laparoscopic surgery</a> scheduled at the end of November. Hopefully that will bring us some answers. Until then, all we have are some guesses-valid guesses, but guesses nonetheless. The first and foremost guess being that I have what is called <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0001913/">endometriosis</a>. Of course they aren't sure and for now I just have to deal with immense pain until it is resolved. Whenever that happens.<br />
<br />
Which also means that I'm back home living with my parents in Oregon. Some days I can't even get out of bed because I'm so tired. I don't have a job or money. And the closest I've been to even being asked on a date? When the doctor in the Emergency Room on Sunday asked if I was single or married. <br />
<br />
Sometimes it is hard to motivate ourselves. I've had a hell of a time doing just that. But I'm learning some lessons. I'm learning about patience and how to let others help me. It's hard when you are such an independent person but something I learned in the past few days? Even though most people I talk to may not know what exactly I'm going through, they can still have good advice and I'm not the only person having a hard time. <br />
<br />
One of the greatest blessings on this earth and in the mortal journey? Other people. Why? Because we get to serve each other. We get to empathize with, love, care for, and help each other. And we get to help ourselves. So, I'm not going to be selfish and focus on what is going wrong in my life. Instead, I will take it day by day. Some days I can't get out of bed. Some days I feel so nauseated I can't walk straight. And some days, I can get out of bed and walk straight and do things I enjoy. And EVERY day, I can feel love and joy no matter the circumstance.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-29157457779589779942011-06-23T21:27:00.000-07:002011-06-23T21:27:59.207-07:00Let's be self absorbed for 10 minutes.So, I have this really quite lovely and charming friend. I believe I mentioned her in my first blog post, actually. Her name is Christine. And I adore her and the way her mind thinks. More importantly I love that she will say whatever on her blog and encourages others to divulge their own secrets. In her latest post <a href="http://christineinchicago.blogspot.com/2011/06/games-and-wanderlust.html">here</a>, she invites us to play a game. One in which you get to be self-centered and think only about your own happiness. Considering I really only like to talk about myself in days that end in Y, I decided to give it my best. <br />
<br />
The Game: (Directly from Christine, herself)<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">If you could go any three places in the world right now, where would you go?</span></div><br />
There are rules:<br />
1) It can't be anywhere you've been before. I mean, you can go to Buffalo, New York if you've been to Manhattan before but you can't go to Manhattan again. Sorry. My game, my rules.<br />
2) You have to stay in this place (or within 60 miles of it) for a week<br />
3) All expenses would be paid. And if you have a significant other or whatever, I guess they can come too, seeing as an imaginary wealthy person is paying for this imaginary super cool trip and we don't care about their bank account balance. You know, since they don't exist.<br />
<br />
Considering it is someone else's rules, I should play by them. But then I wouldn't be me. I edited the RIGHT now part. Because I have some places on my list that I would love to go see but under certain stipulations [like having a significant other via rule numero tres]. In other words, two are right nows and one is later when I have a significant other. <br />
<br />
1. <strong>Santorini, Greece. </strong><br />
<br />
I've always wanted to go to Greece. It's so gorgeous. And when I was younger and read The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants [admit it, you did, too] one of the girls falls in love in Greece. I don't know how you couldn't. Here's some pictures to prove it. [Plus, hello Mama Mia]<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="293" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sGuXuRAATOQ/TJsBB_AKQ4I/AAAAAAAAAOM/JiIkmzERseI/s400/santorini_greece.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green may be my favorite color but that stunning blue is a close second.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="300" id="il_fi" src="http://www.touristmaker.com/images/santorini/santorini-greece.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img height="400" id="il_fi" src="http://iconicimagesinternational.com/wp-content/uploads/pe011-the-smile-santorini-greece.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="305" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">It's the perfect place to fall in love. Whether with the view, the food, or the people. And as much as finding <strong>someone </strong>to love in Greece appeals, I also think it is the perfect place to fall in love with yourself and find you. The possibilities are endless. Photography, swimming, boating, learning a new language, laughing, the sun. Perfection.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">2. <strong>Norway </strong></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">This is a new development. As in I made a list of about 15 or so places to narrow it down from and Norway wasn't even one of them. But, as we are being self-centered, I started thinking of places that I know I would get the most out of. Some of the places were places in which I could go and help others [ie Africa, the Phillipines, etc.] And I really would love to travel to those places and do as much as possible for them but this time I get to be about me. Norway is rich in culture, beautiful nature, and scarves. And I really love scarves. [and as per the rules, Norway and Sweden border each other so I could take a jaunt over to Sweden if I felt like it and if it's 60 miles within my range.]</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="324" id="il_fi" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJO4g2AnkUx14EjM9X1EDGBF9j1HqB8OzAo12mWXbFnRzUNmDdTkgryQQLXDv3SkxpM0YHaeImKXsOB5iuETAhcgiTIOu56NjZK5_FdTPbxkuhKZINAVJNOvOn4MhWpZdnUYJmwisXGE/s1600/NorwayPodcastLogo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How does this not take your breath away?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="300" id="il_fi" src="http://www.greatrail.com/media/5907069/Hardangerfjord-400300.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Absolutely stunning. And one of these little houses would be the perfect place to become completely self absorbed and write a novel. And take gorgeous pictures and find old pieces of wood and make frames for those pictures. I could go on for hours. <br />
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
3. <strong>Bora Bora</strong><br />
<br />
[this is my cheater one. I would love to go here with my husband when I finally find the lucky guy.]<br />
<br />
A romantic bungalow for 2? Check. Hiking in a lucious jungle? Check. Snorkling? Check. Getting to be in a swimsuit 24/7? Check. White sand, tanning oil, and the sun? Check, check, double check. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><img height="300" id="il_fi" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Au5volBP8Yk8jfZ3hwkTr3iROhkNXTqtLuSdJt3fkikzeA2PkZyCkQF4ERE-0PWb6Dx-uo5hmdkNwIVEnpZPlPr3VrKKKb-ilB7iHkQKjcfxA80osH_OxZHOpf9kd37Kdo6zlWUpO3ax/s400/tranquil-lagoon-bora-bora-island-french-polynesia.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have no words. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="300" id="il_fi" src="http://student.nu.ac.th/u43360619/bora_bora10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I would never turn down a vacation here. Keep that in mind, people, when my days of wedded bliss finally happen!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I feel as though I've sufficiently been self absorbed for long enough. Now, it's your turn. Ready, set, teach me about you. </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-86163154723828120502011-06-14T13:29:00.000-07:002011-06-14T13:29:30.974-07:006 week Love AffairI have approximately 6 weeks for which I have no plans since I was supposed to be in the MTC. What will I do with my time, then? Well, 6 weeks feels like a wonderful time to have a small love affair. Which is exactly what I plan on doing. Here's a list of things that I've decided to include in my love affair. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JipHEz53sU">A little Niki Manaj</a><br />
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="200" id="il_fi" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEB7omY5eKbJz6TKn-YBGmj_Z2vGJEqyu1ngwX7-rSL9xGjONPhRA7e3CwQ0i-FKbTp5ryYCvO2gjNWU9wuSAK6gIIgnUyYi2me-EX0Db8kcQ6u09_eEGfRrTE_pdED3Eevv9u1OQpKig/s200/the+last+lecture.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="162" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This book. It's amazing. I might read it more than once.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wmD3M-BfVo">T-Pain and Chris Brown? Sure. </a><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="200" id="il_fi" src="http://www.plasticized.com/images/lashes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="196" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">eyelash implants. Mine are so short. I would LOVE to have these.<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETVjll5eR88">The house and the truck in this video</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/">The Pioneer Woman. I really just want her life. </a><br />
<br />
And lastly, Blogstalking. If I could, I would post all the different blogs I'm obssessed with, or even ones I've just stumbled across, so everyone can enjoy my sense of amazement at these cool people! <br />
<br />
Unfortunately what I would LIKE to be doing on my 6 week love affair isn't possible due to my mono. I'll think I'll go take a nap now.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-65796626044192410532011-06-12T15:35:00.000-07:002011-06-12T15:35:26.486-07:00Kissing.It's bad. And very dangerous. And unfortunately enjoyable and a way to convey your feelings towards someone else. But back to the dangerous part. It can give you Infectious Mononucleosis. The Kissing Disease. Wouldn't you know I got just that. Mono. I hate those four little letters together. <br />
<br />
[Isn't interesting that we have 26 letters and we have managed to string them together to form words that mean things. Who decided what they mean, anyway? It's weird to imagine but any of these words that I'm typing and you are reading could mean something completely different.]<br />
<br />
Back to why I hate the word mono. Not really so much the word, I guess, but more of what that word stands for. Me being sick and exhausted and unable to go on my mission for at least another 6 weeks. So my life has been thrown into what feels like a tornado while I try to make decisions. <br />
<br />
You know when you make decisions and you feel as though you are making a right decision but there is something at the back of your mind that makes your stomach hurt and you aren't sure what the hell you are doing? That's where I'm at. In a tornado. And I'm feeling a little confused.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-9771108676008782252011-04-20T14:39:00.000-07:002011-04-20T14:39:20.178-07:00P.S.<div style="text-align: center;">This boy got my number over a week ago and never called. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I'm heartbroken. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-59590194244510421052011-04-20T14:37:00.000-07:002011-04-20T14:37:05.948-07:00my feet off the ground.<div style="text-align: center;">I'm just hanging out in the library soaking in everyone else's stress right now. As in I'm done. Finished. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Then what, pray tell, are you doing in the library!? </div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, it's possible that I am trying to write a paper for genetics. It may also have been due at 7 am this morning. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But don't you worry. I have my chair hiked up high enough that my feet don't touch the ground, I have my headphones in, I have my highlighter out, and...I'm blogging. </div><div style="text-align: center;">And discussing bodily functions via text. It's out of hand. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But, I am not stressed. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Why?</div><div style="text-align: center;">It may have to do with the fact that I have been awake for 32 hours. Ok, 31 because I slept from 4 am to 5 am. </div><div style="text-align: center;">And I took 2 finals in that time frame. One took me an hour and a half and the other 2 and a half hours. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I just don't even know anything anymore. Except that when I get this tired my body starts overcompensating and I'm in extreme hyper mode.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
And I'm currently watching this kid facebook stalk this girl. He literally just stared at one of her pictures for well over 5 minutes. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Just stared.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I wonder if anyone ever does that to me. Probably not. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It was slightly weird. Makes me rethink having a facebook.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I suppose I should write my genetics paper. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's on the ecological speciation of the East Maui-Endemic Dubautia Species.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You're so interested, aren't you?</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MaedrsuU7tv_tEB2V4wAoq-B_MFSUQkcWCm_wPOAtzjfphZWPwZP7iHNF4BGyHhyJEpjUFVblwnABt3PXDU9Jeiigzkg0izMpifp9VhCZVgCygsGNJPI5IOBN3wgNThdqMGIC0Lh9W8X/s1600/dubautia+menziesii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MaedrsuU7tv_tEB2V4wAoq-B_MFSUQkcWCm_wPOAtzjfphZWPwZP7iHNF4BGyHhyJEpjUFVblwnABt3PXDU9Jeiigzkg0izMpifp9VhCZVgCygsGNJPI5IOBN3wgNThdqMGIC0Lh9W8X/s320/dubautia+menziesii.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dubautia Menziesii (one of the 4 Dubautia in the study)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-15422545145225073712011-04-15T21:17:00.000-07:002011-04-15T21:17:47.245-07:00it's that time of year...<div style="text-align: center;">Where I stay up later than I should because I'm "studying". </div><div style="text-align: center;">I never actually feel like I accomplished anything other than getting caught up on emptying my inbox of old "Glamour" and "ESPN SportsCenter" emails. </div><div style="text-align: center;">[yes, I realize those are complete opposite but I most definitely receive both newsletters. And read all of them.] </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Today, I allowed people to convince me to study with them. I agreed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Why? I'm not quite sure because after about 10 minutes I remembered why I always study alone. It's because I hate people. And by that I mean I hate studying with other people. Unless they were a clone of me and have the exact same thought process. Actually, I love people. Just not when their brains don't mesh with mine and I'm trying to study. </div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.totaltalknonsense.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/brainOnDrugs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my brain on studying. And it's only day one. Oh, someone save me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-66943981954921681452011-04-12T21:07:00.001-07:002011-04-12T21:07:56.953-07:00thought of the day<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I feel all discombobulated. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">can you lose something you never even had? or be heartbroken over something that never even existed?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Finals are here and with them comes a whole bunch of stresses. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This has been one crazy semester and all I can do is trust that Heavenly Father's plan for me will show it's self SOON, dangit!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">[I'm working on my patience...how's it coming?]</span></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-53033450038154631982011-03-30T16:25:00.000-07:002011-03-30T23:15:35.943-07:00Potentially mortifying[updated]<div style="text-align: center;"> Today, I had a potentially mortifying experience. I won't use names or places so as to keep this as anonymous as possible. And, I'm about 99.9% sure this person has no idea I even have a blog so the likelihood of him reading this are slim to none. I'm relying heavily on the none part...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was sometime this morning and I was just chatting with some friends. One of them pipes up with the fact that she had recently seen a guy that, well...to say the least...I'm fairly infatuated with, and she began to relate their conversation when my other friend pipes up with the fact that she too had seen him. She started saying where she had seen him and why it was a little awkward. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
Right as I begin to pipe in with, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>"I just love him. I would marry him in a heartbeat. Seriously."</b></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;">we hear behind us, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>"Oh, Hey. I thought I heard my name. How's it going?"</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Why yes, Chelsea, the universe figured you had been having a hard enough time recently and cut you a break, allowing you to only say, "I just" before he rounded the corner and butted in. Thank you, Universe. It's about time you had enough decency to love me <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">especially considering I got locked in a bathroom stall at the HBLL about a week ago</span>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>[I tried to include a fun embarrassing picture to distract you from how mortified I was but I couldn't find a good one. Just know...I was mortified and can't imagine what I would be feeling had he heard me.] <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">[Oh, and then later that day I coerced him into taking me to dinner. My dad says I shouldn't beg for dates but in all honesty I wasn't begging. I simply hinted at the fact that a girl needs to be fed and since I was sick I don't enjoy cooking for myself! Maybe I'll tell my blogging world how it went tomorrow. I'll do my best to not start singing</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;"> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ABlLvteK1Q&feature=player_embedded">this song</a>.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: red;">KIDDING.]</span>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-69282536515918160522011-03-29T14:23:00.000-07:002011-03-29T14:23:59.910-07:00Hippie PrincessLately, my inner Hippie has been screaming at me. So, naturally, I had to indulge her. I got a hair wrap. Yep, with 3 pretty sliver leaves attached to the end just to really let my Hippie Princess shine. And then, a little over a week later I went to the Festival of Colors at the Hindu temple in Spanish Fork, UT. And after, had to take my hair wrap out because...well...it was gross.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQHhyphenhyphenhGhIQrswoChucpSOto7MjjY7roNVdCvcIp5c8IOVWHSP8e5oJyvInl_temCaDIqYBKy707kaz2wGUqWweBVglYULFCqnsi94jEFN2QdZtkOumsihv-tmHE3UhwRUqpgu7AcrmIC_8/s1600/festival2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQHhyphenhyphenhGhIQrswoChucpSOto7MjjY7roNVdCvcIp5c8IOVWHSP8e5oJyvInl_temCaDIqYBKy707kaz2wGUqWweBVglYULFCqnsi94jEFN2QdZtkOumsihv-tmHE3UhwRUqpgu7AcrmIC_8/s400/festival2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my beautiful friend, Marci. She's a babe. And I love her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi54-SQn4fpvPK0ATnbZD8_zn8nApFR-TW_Vb9tc02O-NrfMCf7LnhoeJZAX0bQOue3mRHMUUuYw7iL1AV7IQghOrzCDhyphenhyphenwDgBMgqZOqgpsNKbKyh_ZiFvljLEA2ukMChSjSoWGEBNvEgm/s1600/festival3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi54-SQn4fpvPK0ATnbZD8_zn8nApFR-TW_Vb9tc02O-NrfMCf7LnhoeJZAX0bQOue3mRHMUUuYw7iL1AV7IQghOrzCDhyphenhyphenwDgBMgqZOqgpsNKbKyh_ZiFvljLEA2ukMChSjSoWGEBNvEgm/s400/festival3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Myself, Marci, and my friend Wes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYXhVH5-KVv2ojlTjXUUxUgLA5F8HuxU0yQSJT7wpL-zsnmf0VCJB_K97cfxZkglTDIHllnkz1sY_YdyoUBMJasWPXKG8Mr73NhXdBBGjYcP1MLN5268WuyvzmUnIw3Hnq7rPwg7k1Vqj/s1600/festival4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYXhVH5-KVv2ojlTjXUUxUgLA5F8HuxU0yQSJT7wpL-zsnmf0VCJB_K97cfxZkglTDIHllnkz1sY_YdyoUBMJasWPXKG8Mr73NhXdBBGjYcP1MLN5268WuyvzmUnIw3Hnq7rPwg7k1Vqj/s640/festival4.jpg" width="444" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We always have too much fun...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw5SCDJOE8XEjRaK_28YXpkS91dm9cbHDccsU_DEQGTPS_rUjpaxYMvisvQeRf458Xe0_OWDTLyvWUYF4OpT9mpv4e3L7g1Jrfu1AWPyg8FwOwHuewkvTvHVMploG2Jk1Kx0vxjxxpEbU/s1600/festival8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw5SCDJOE8XEjRaK_28YXpkS91dm9cbHDccsU_DEQGTPS_rUjpaxYMvisvQeRf458Xe0_OWDTLyvWUYF4OpT9mpv4e3L7g1Jrfu1AWPyg8FwOwHuewkvTvHVMploG2Jk1Kx0vxjxxpEbU/s640/festival8.jpg" width="324" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look REALLLLY closely, you can see my hair wrap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVsMeyeYfOHtn52BO_oxwYrao50mtz6R8ugElUSQod832S9qRytB0Wh3kEYJyx-iTfO3ZiJ-1uIuqpnb7QtDip-lE9k_TNKvKEnUMWyRcnRD5YZGDZCIrXL2HaXfvtxLpaxMm5C8Vrggp/s1600/festival6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVsMeyeYfOHtn52BO_oxwYrao50mtz6R8ugElUSQod832S9qRytB0Wh3kEYJyx-iTfO3ZiJ-1uIuqpnb7QtDip-lE9k_TNKvKEnUMWyRcnRD5YZGDZCIrXL2HaXfvtxLpaxMm5C8Vrggp/s400/festival6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As we were getting ready to leave. There are some sweet llamas behind us!</td></tr>
</tbody></table> It's quite the experience. [On a side note, that was a terrible decision on my part as I've been sick for the better part of 3 weeks and that certainly did NOT help me get better...] I think other cultures are so fascinating. I even went so far as to do a little reading about the Festival.<br />
<br />
It's also known as Holi and is a springtime religious ceremony celebrated by Hindus. It's a celebration to usher in spring, celebrated as the season of love. Oddly enough, I found this little tidbit of information:<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.4em;">The spring season, during which the weather changes, is believed to cause viral fever and cold. The playful throwing of natural coloured powders has a medicinal significance: the colours are traditionally made of<a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neem" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="Neem">Neem</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumkum" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;">Kumkum</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turmeric" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="Turmeric">Haldi</a>, <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bilva" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="Bilva">Bilva</a>, and other medicinal herbs prescribed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ayurveda" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="Ayurveda">Āyurvedic</a> doctors.</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.4em;">A special drink called <i>thandai</i> is prepared (commonly made of almonds, pistachios, rose petals, etc.), sometimes containing <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhang" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;">bhang</a></i> (<i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cannabis_indica" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;">Cannabis indica</a></i>). For wet colours, traditional flowers of <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palash" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0645ad; text-decoration: none;" title="Palash">Palash</a> are boiled and soaked in water over night to produced yellow coloured water, which also had medicinal properties. Unfortunately the commercial aspect of celebration has led to an increase in the use of synthetic colours which, in some cases, may be toxic.</div><br />
<br />
If only those darn colors truly had healing powers...I would be feeling so much better now I could cancel my visit to the doctor.<br />
<br />
I can't say that I actively participated in any of the chanting simply for my own religious beliefs, but I hold great respect for other religions. After all, without religious freedom, I certainly wouldn't be in the position I am in now. I love that I was able to celebrate another's religious freedom with them this weekend and to learn more about their faith. It's such an enlightening experience and I highly encourage everyone to learn about different religions <b>with an open mind. </b>It may just change the way you view life.<br />
<br />
[oh, and I am in love with <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cN39JD9U0ow">this man</a>. I wish he wasn't already married. If you are a male who can sing like this, and will buy me a bouquet of <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwmIEb-HZO15pr0ibBn458WSfvWRu3FV5yQ1QGjSSNxdF3dGWraBnGxegiE5Tib6xD4OGOcEMZwDi3gWsBUYtZxGUDY_uSjIrgvEnudCr2Q7Hn0ojWSrtHxkFRoso7biuachhxWnrZmLbs/s400/flowers-mason.jpg">wildflowers</a> (or a <a href="http://www.bridalbuds.com/wp-content/uploads/wedding-calla-lilies.jpg">calla lily</a>) you will have my heart. The wildflowers remind me so much of picking flowers on our family ranch every summer and what freedom and love feels like.]Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-78327078083391794002011-03-01T21:56:00.000-08:002011-03-01T21:56:12.689-08:00Hello, March (and an unrelated tale of Zumba)Happy March! (More importantly Happy Birthday to my main man, Justin Beiber! Shout out to you on your special day! [I'm a Cougar through and through in whatever sense of the word you want.])<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="320" src="http://justinbiebermusicvideo.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Justin-Bieber_OTMHE.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">check out that smolder!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Also, today has been one of the longest days ever..and I slept for most of it. That may contribute to why I feel ill.<br />
<br />
I don't want to go to school tomorrow...I want to sleep and not feel sick. Have you ever heard that working out when you don't feel well is supposed to make you feel better because of the endorphins? I say FALSE. I still feel sick. But maybe I have it wrong and you should only do that if you have a cold...and are not nauseated. Hmm.<br />
<br />
Anyway, Zumba did NOT help my queasiness. It did result in great laughs and great exhaustion. One of my best friends and the best [and only] roommate I have ever had, Maren, and I go together. We have to probably be the 2 least coordinated girls in the room. Naturally we stand in the front so everyone can see how it's done. We should be instructors.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYiA_DaT77Gtu-ThjpTmv1RDMLIo4BO_Hz_UBYtN38Ql8CmjRtIcPIm6B6xLRlHL9yVAmNu_UUnXMJ_2GkBNWk3v5HrgTmAhrBigveVy7Yg9gqr96uOEmqyuhFcAGMzyptH3tjKu4uohW/s1600/maren.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYiA_DaT77Gtu-ThjpTmv1RDMLIo4BO_Hz_UBYtN38Ql8CmjRtIcPIm6B6xLRlHL9yVAmNu_UUnXMJ_2GkBNWk3v5HrgTmAhrBigveVy7Yg9gqr96uOEmqyuhFcAGMzyptH3tjKu4uohW/s400/maren.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're pretty much gangsters. What up, G?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-54610756151552861042011-02-27T21:56:00.000-08:002011-02-27T21:56:14.334-08:00Generations.<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #93c47d; color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"'Ye are a <span class="highlight" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">chosen generation</span>.' How very true that is. Notwithstanding all of the problems that we have, this, I believe, is the greatest generation in the history of the world. And you young people are a part of it. You are the beneficiaries of it. Its fruits are here to bless your lives if you will grasp them and live worthy of them." President Gordon B. Hinckley <a href="http://lds.org/new-era/1999/01/words-of-the-prophet-a-chosen-generation?lang=eng&query=chosen+generation">(Words of the Prophet: A Chosen Generation</a>)</span></blockquote><span></span><br />
How many times in my life have I heard that I am a part of a chosen generation? I don't know that I could count the times. In fact, I have heard it so many times that at one part of my adolescence I despised the phrase. I hated when someone would tell me that I was part of a chosen generation and that I held great responsibility. [Not exactly what you want to hear as a teenager. I would much rather have been carefree; however, it has always been a charge I have considered at great length.]<br />
<br />
Today was stake conference for me. [For those who are not members, this is just a large meeting of a bunch of wards (you go to church with the same people every week so that there is a consistency) where leaders within the church speak. It's a wonderful experience and really uplifting. To find out more about the church <a href="http://www.mormon.org/">click here!</a>] Prior to conference, I was privileged to attend a special meeting with Elder Leavitt of the Seventy [since there are so many members of the church, others are called under the Prophet to be in leadership positions] It was wonderfully uplifting and informative as he answered questions from our small group of about 30 people. There were a handful of nonmembers and it was fantastic to be a part of their learning of the church. One of the number one questions that was asked was, "Does God love everyone? No matter their circumstances?"<br />
<br />
Elder Leavitt answered with a simple, "Yes." He talked of how God is perfect and so He loves perfectly. We, on the other hand, are not perfect and our love is imperfect. We get upset, we are quick to anger, we feel entitled, and our decisions alter the perspective that we are each a child of Heavenly Parents. He then spoke of the different circumstances we were each born into and how it was necessary for our progression. This is what brought about my thoughts on "A Chosen Generation."<br />
<br />
I watched "The Patriot" this evening on tv and started wondering if I could have been courageous enough to step up and fight for our freedom. I still haven't come to a solid conclusion about that. I have come to the conclusion that I know that what Elder Leavitt spoke of, and anyone who has ever called this generation chosen, is true. I feel it with every fiber of my being. I don't know that I could have handled the fight for freedom but I also don't know that the people from that time could have handled the economic troubles, the war, and the troubles of our current situation. I firmly believe that we were sent here at this time and place to fulfill a mission, or a destiny, of sorts. Upon our shoulders rests the great responsibility to carry forth this world out of it's current trials and tribulations.<br />
<br />
Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden started forth a rolling stone. As generations have progressed, the responsibilities have grown. Our names, mine and yours, will be written in the history books beside the likes of George Washington, Ghandi, Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King, and so many other great leaders. I am a future leader; you are a future leader. And together, we make the future and soon enough our children will come forth to lead.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wE0-R5L6_R8RLdqsuM3c0LWhO81RTfHpr4IrWoMOl0tzOg9TWqgXw5ACWD6MTHcYRG4cVXMHxiZgwjYsvpThLMlsh5zoBu7eWxhg1kN6TYcLza-FmGgLi5SfkZPTV_oX1QWIme2dxvaU/s1600/cousins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wE0-R5L6_R8RLdqsuM3c0LWhO81RTfHpr4IrWoMOl0tzOg9TWqgXw5ACWD6MTHcYRG4cVXMHxiZgwjYsvpThLMlsh5zoBu7eWxhg1kN6TYcLza-FmGgLi5SfkZPTV_oX1QWIme2dxvaU/s320/cousins.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My cousin Jared & I. Yep, you are looking at the leaders of today. Scary?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-12306577379230657542011-02-25T23:10:00.000-08:002011-02-25T23:10:35.302-08:00A cause for celebration!<div style="text-align: center;">For months now, I have been desperately trying to finish off this disgusting toothpaste that I accidentally bought (or someone gave it to me? I can't remember) It was surprisingly taking FOREVER. Especially considering how often I brush my teeth </div><div style="text-align: center;">[anywhere from 2 to 5 times a day... What? I like it. And a clean mouth is essential. Have I ever told you how much I love the dentist? Someday I will.] </div><div style="text-align: center;">And this morning I officially finished it! I now get to return to the gloriousness of my favorite toothpaste:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.couponmamacita.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/ColgateTotal3.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yep. Colgate Total. PASTE. The only way to go in my opinion. Yes, I have tried others and they just don't do it for me like Colgate. We're in a pretty serious relationship. He just gets me. </div><div style="text-align: center;">[and my obsession with white teeth and a clean, minty feeling for hours.]</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-26198234913607827122011-02-25T22:49:00.000-08:002011-02-25T22:49:45.935-08:00Melt. My. Heart.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><b>It's Friday night and rather than go hang out with my friend Jill and her cute guy friends or with my friend Hil at her place for a girl's night, I sat at home on my couch. Typing away and consequently turning in the worst paper I have ever written. [Forgive me if my sentences make no sense, if there are spelling errors, or if my sentences run on. My brain is fried.] </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><b>Once I finished that stupid paper, I immediately set out to relax and enjoy myself. Naturally, I found some silly little chick flicks and sappy things that just... MELT. MY. HEART. So, if you are wanting to know what kinds of things melt my hear, read on. If not, stop reading. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><b>ok. First off, I have a disclaimer: the majority of these situations apply after I have KNOWN a guy. I would be rather freaked out if a random stranger did any of these. Although, remember how I get random compliments a lot? Like in <a href="http://chelsealovescupcakes.blogspot.com/2010/11/pocketful-of-memories-dedication-to.html">this post</a>? Those are generally fun, and welcome.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><b>Courtesy of one of my favorite chick flick scenes from the movie "Monster-In-Law"</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><b>Charlotte 'Charlie': </b>What color are my eyes?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><b>Dr. Kevin Fields</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">: Well, at first glance your eyes are brown. But when the light hits them, they change to amber. And if you look really close around the iris, the color is pure honey. But when you look into the sun, they almost look green. That's my favorite.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Cute, right?? Ok, next.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">When a boy lets me wear his sweatshirt or jacket or shirt. Because I DO look good in it! Like in this song:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/wFj9ylA043A?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thinking that boys actually thing things like in this song:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Tzw-MFplU8k?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And...well, the list could go on but now I'm too tired to think. And I'm too excited about my new boots to think about boys. Wanna see them? <a href="http://sheplers.com/list/womens_ariat_boots/031103.html">CLICK HERE!</a> </div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-65624617833193703972011-02-13T19:32:00.000-08:002011-02-13T19:32:10.175-08:00Not for boys. Unless you want to know WAY more than you should.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></div><br />
<br />
Ladies, (really boys, stop reading now. You'll be embarrassed if you continue. And you will never want to look me in the eye again.) I did some calculating the other day instead of studying for my 2 hour exam that I ended up getting a 77 on. Poop. Anyway back to the calculations. It's about that time of the month again and I tend to get crazy. I never noticed it until these past 2 years or so because it has become...an issue. I get emotional, needy, pissed off, crazy, cranky, happy, and so on and so forth. You name it...I experience it. And it SUCKS. So I started thinking about this and did a little math. Here it is:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: magenta;">So far, I have spent approximately 1.6 years of my life in this hormone induced hell. Every year I spend about 84 days as the mayor of crazyville.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: magenta;">If I start menopause around the age of 50, I will have spent about 8.2 years being psychotic. This means I have about 6.6 more years left.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: magenta;">Unfortunately, as I have NO idea how many children I will have, this does NOT include 9 months of pregnancy per child. </span></div><br />
Poop. Again.<br />
<br />
I know that my Heavenly Father loves me but, REALLY?! I really want to know WHY all these ridiculously raging hormones are necessary. They make me all kinds of crazy. I feel bad for the poor man who I will marry. But he will put up with it. Sorry, love, it comes with the territory. (As much as you and I both wish it didn't.)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2h-22d6JcqZzL7FqFsvl50RMpZua8QMLyuxyO0WVTWXX84778pIQHhkv8b-ofJGGcSto9-GrqZuytIh-jAF1L6Psyi3TPQLgsOGWmK1jBE8fIzzU_BWkn2Q2aJO3ezSYIJZTyNYE-ZtG8/s1600/Hormonal+Woman+PNG.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2h-22d6JcqZzL7FqFsvl50RMpZua8QMLyuxyO0WVTWXX84778pIQHhkv8b-ofJGGcSto9-GrqZuytIh-jAF1L6Psyi3TPQLgsOGWmK1jBE8fIzzU_BWkn2Q2aJO3ezSYIJZTyNYE-ZtG8/s400/Hormonal+Woman+PNG.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, yes. thanks, google images.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-79020912209402040442011-02-10T20:43:00.000-08:002011-02-10T20:43:13.433-08:00Warning: Written by a hormone induced brain.<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Remember <a href="http://chelsealovescupcakes.blogspot.com/2010/11/traffic-school-future.html">this post?</a> Maybe not. But I definitely do. I had a meeting today and this quote was read:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Goals reflect the desires of our hearts and our vision of what we can accomplish."</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">The future is constantly on my mind. I keep thinking of what will happen within the next couple of months and every time I feel like I have a good grasp on everything, the rug gets pulled out from under me. I usually love change but right now I just want stability. And sometimes, something that feels like it should be right, is wrong, and when it ends you should feel better...and yet, the stability is suddenly gone and your life is thrown up in the air. That's where I am right now: Limbo. In between the end of something good and the beginning of something great; but it sucks. At times, floating around with nothing to really hold me down is so wonderful but I want that rock in my life; I know I have the gospel as that rock but I also have a lot of other "rocks" I feel in need of right now. That storm? The one I knew was inevitably coming? Well, it's definitely here.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><img height="265" src="http://www.thesefleetingmoments.com/images/20060407122750_waxing-storm-ii.jpg" style="cursor: move; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.thesefleetingmoments.com/index.php?showimage=40">courtesy of</a></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">Can maybe my future just be my present? </div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">[Well, Chelsea, it already is. Just so you know.]</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-69996679969536777172011-01-23T21:18:00.000-08:002011-01-23T21:18:21.285-08:00Word of the DayFret [fret]<br />
<br />
-verb<br />
<br />
<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">to</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">feel</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">or</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">express</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">worry,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">annoyance,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">discontent,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">or</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">the</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">like</span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">to</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">become</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">eaten,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">worn,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">corroded</span></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">to</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">torment;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">irritate,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">annoy,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">vex</span></span></span></span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">-noun</span></span><br />
<div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">an</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">irritated</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">state</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">mind;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">annoyance;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">vexation</span></span></span></span></li>
</ul><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;">Sometimes, I can't help but wonder if all of my worry and fretting is justified or if perhaps it's some other word that is gnawing at me. [Like terrified, overwhelmed, confused, panicked, or completely off the wall freaking out. Take your pick.]</div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;">Patience is a hard thing to learn.</div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;">So is life.</div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><img alt="la-grande-storm" height="265" src="http://danielhaydenberman.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/la-grande-storm.jpg" width="400" /></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://danielhaydenberman.com/blog/tag/clouds/page/2/">There is definitely a storm coming.</a></div><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 16px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-73986764158649636132011-01-17T20:38:00.000-08:002011-01-17T20:38:37.603-08:00Walk of Life.back·ground<br />
[bak-ground]<br />
–noun<br />
1. the ground or parts, as of a scene, situated in the rear (opposed to foreground).<br />
<br />
2. one's origin, education, experience, etc., in relation to one's present character, status, etc.<br />
<br />
3. the social, historical, and other antecedents or causes of an event or condition: the background of the war.<br />
<br />
4. the complex of physical, cultural, and psychological factors that serves as the environment of an event or experience;the set of conditions against which an occurrence is perceived.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1297253223"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;">I realized something today that I probably should have realized a long time ago. Maybe I already knew it but it never really occurred to me. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;">When you are going through pictures do you ever notice some random person in the background? It happens all the time. Completely commonplace. However, I don't think I have ever thought of myself as being in the background of other people's photos. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;">It has never occurred to me that there are probably hundreds of photos that I am in floating around the internet and for that one small moment, I was a part of a stranger's life. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;">It happens every single day, but did you ever realize that you are in the background of someone else's life? I included [most of] the definition[s] for the word background above. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;">Why? Mostly because I'm a word nerd and partly because at one point it had some relevancy. Perhaps you can figure out how my mind works and explain why it's there.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;">I guess what I'm getting at is that sometimes we forget there are other people around us, other people are making memories, they're laughing, crying, talking, thinking. Just like I am. I may be in the foreground [brought it back to the definition. Score one for Chelsea] of my own life but to others I am just another back up dancer or passenger in their ride of life. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1297253223"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black;">Weird, right?</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><img height="253" src="http://www.damonchernavsky.com/beautiful-desert.jpg" width="400" /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><a href="http://www.damonchernavsky.com/">courtesy of</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">And here's a cool picture that has basically nothing to do with what I was talking about.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">Except maybe to think of how small we are when compared to the rest of the earth and how it's an amazingly wonderful blessing to have our own story and be able to be in the background of so many other people's.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3379981324110497767.post-8500342126730485972011-01-16T18:46:00.000-08:002011-01-16T18:46:58.728-08:00I asked God who I'm supposed to be...<div style="text-align: center;">I have a lot on my mind today. [As I do everyday...] However, the foremost question I have on my mind came from listening to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKfDwChOoHI">this song [click me!]</a> I've asked the question, "Who am I supposed to be?" a million and one times. Probably more. It feels like every time the answer changes; and yet, it's almost always exactly the same. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Once upon a time, I was a little girl. I used to dream of who I would become and the things I would do with my life. I used to dream of being a doctor, of helping people, of being a wife, a mother, a best friend, an accomplished woman living in some big city wearing fancy clothes, the luckiest girl in the world because a real true Prince Charming came and whisked me away to be a Princess of a foreign country, a scientist who discovered a cure-all for every disease ever, an explorer of an exotic land, a major athlete, an actress and I'm fairly certain at one point I wished I could be a unicorn. A precious few of those goals were attainable [like being a unicorn!] and even fewer are ones I still have in my life. But just because it's what I want, doesn't necessarily mean it is what I <i>should </i>be. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Life is full of choices and that is what defines its meaning. I have the choice to be a doctor or a wildlife biologist, I have the choice to skip church on Sunday or to go, I have the choice to eat a piece of toast or a banana. From big to little, we make choices every day. I don't know that I have ever had an immediate answer when faced with a question [even the toast or banana one! That's a hard choice!] but I do know that I won't always make the right choice the first time around. I make mistakes, I stumble, I fall, I cry, and I get frustrated beyond belief with how <b>human I am. </b>[The unicorn dream is looking really great about now] Every day I have to apologize for hurting someone, for wronging someone, for falling flat on my face. I also have the privilege of every single day having the opportunity to do so. I have the opportunity to learn something new, to ask forgiveness and forgive others, to smile, laugh, dream. There is, however, one thing I can not apologize for. And that is being human. I understand that each of us are human and we all make mistakes. I have learned [and sometimes have to <i>re</i>-learn] to forgive others. I hope and pray that those who I have hurt or may think I have wronged them will be able to forgive me. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">In a world that is full of strife and struggle, there is a hope for a better day. It's up to us to make that day better. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I asked God who I'm supposed to be....as far as I can tell, he wants me to be human and learn from my mistakes, forgive, love, serve, and be someone that others look up to.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNq3FGb0JQPwY37VPT7fXXvTvXFXSJLCmEqxRUet1HwIdibwowGqhwCzASz2K16vLO1hFzfTwiOVEXGTWr5mguWgHmoLUqmsAScQOomz8HB8nkxJPdaJSfn6IKVQdDUbbheX9SLhdTL-Bu/s1600/Naturesbeauty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNq3FGb0JQPwY37VPT7fXXvTvXFXSJLCmEqxRUet1HwIdibwowGqhwCzASz2K16vLO1hFzfTwiOVEXGTWr5mguWgHmoLUqmsAScQOomz8HB8nkxJPdaJSfn6IKVQdDUbbheX9SLhdTL-Bu/s400/Naturesbeauty.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In a world where pollution and destruction reign, it's a true testimony that our own souls can be this beautiful despite our follies and mistakes when you see how wonderfully hard this earth is trying to be this gorgeous.</td></tr>
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</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03345278539631597912noreply@blogger.com0