tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45639785874565706992024-03-05T15:40:18.755-07:00ACCORDING to CHELSA semi sarcastic commentary on life's daily happeningsChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-91006004666092367882014-01-12T20:40:00.000-07:002014-01-12T20:47:51.438-07:00The Best Thing I've Done in Provo: Sports Hero DayIn my three short years in Happy Valley I've been blessed to experience some really great things. I've worked as a youth counselor and played my fair share of missionary tag. I've taken cool classes. I've worked on video/photo shoots for athletic teams. I've road tripped with friends more times than I can count. I've been a reporter. I've watched touchdown drives play out from literally two feet away. I've killed a spider by myself. I played on BYU's racquetball team for a month. And...I've embarrassed myself an infinite number of times trying new things. <br />
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I don't say any of this to boast. I say it to emphasize a point. Out of everything that I have done since moving out, the thing that comes in at the top of my list is Sports Hero Day. </div>
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Sports Hero Day happens once each year. It's a day that 1000+ 6th graders from Utah County come to BYU's campus to meet BYU athletes. The kids are led by volunteers from station to station to meet teams like gymnastics, volleyball, football, baseball, soccer, softball, swim/dive, golf, etc. At each station athletes talk to the kids about topics that relate to them and where they're currently at in life. From there they play their sport with the kids. Upon finishing their rotations the kids migrate back to the main gym for a Power Rally where they are spoken to by 3-4 of BYU's most elite and decorated athletes. </div>
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^^^^Everything I just said? That's the non-emotional description of what Sports Hero Day is. Here's how it really goes. </div>
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The sixth graders that I work with are at a stage in life called the "hero phase." Kids at age 12 have the tendency to idolize their heroes. In this case, a lot of the kids love BYU and they love sports. The theory behind SHD is simple then. If the kids are at a stage in life where they look up to their role models....then lets give them positive role models to look up to. </div>
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In my own experience I've seen lives change through this program. I'm sure that sounds extreme, but it's true. Attitudes and outlooks have been altered. Goals have been set. Friends have been made. </div>
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Each year before Sports Hero Day I put on a few assemblies for the schools that will be attending. Every single time I go to a school, the kids can't contain their excitement. They bounce in their seats, they rattle off stats like a commentator, they can proudly recite the last tweet that their favorite athlete posted. These kids look up to the athletes because they recognize their success and they want to experience the same thing. </div>
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You're probably thinking at this point..."why is Chelsea rambling about this? She's not even an athlete cause racquetball doesn't count." You're right. I'm not an athlete. I'm a student volunteer turned Sports Hero Day Program Director. I see it from the other side. </div>
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The athletes are great and the day really is about them. But...the thing that makes it all come together? The group leaders. For obvious reasons the kids look up to the athletes, but they also look up to their group leaders. Out of everyone they meet on campus their group leader is the person they spend the most time with. The person they get to know the best. The kids LOVE connecting with someone that, again, has experienced success. Getting into college and working hard is success! For that reason, the kids end up walking away from SHD with a sports idol and a life idol. </div>
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I could go on and on and on and on and on about why I think SHD is far greater than sliced bread, but I won't because I'd love for you to experience it for yourself. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">The event is this Thursday, January 16th from 9am-1pm in the Smith Fieldhouse @ BYU. </span>If you're interested at all, please please please talk to me. I want these kids to have the best experience possible and I want you to experience raw, fun service. I'm specifically looking for anyone college age to help.</div>
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Here's an adorable video...</div>
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And here's the link to my personal experience with the program: </div>
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<a href="http://www.byutv.org/seethegood/post/How-to-save-a-sixth-grader.aspx" target="_blank">http://www.byutv.org/seethegood/post/How-to-save-a-sixth-grader.aspx</a></div>
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Chelsea </div>
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Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-82647019046200159852014-01-05T15:30:00.000-07:002014-01-05T20:11:09.358-07:00GIRLS: Seeking a Lovely Home for my Clothes <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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While I should be banned from ever owning/maintaining a blog because I break promises and don't post when I say I will...I have glorious news! Over the last few weeks I've been going through my closet while I've been home home and I rediscovered some great clothes hiding in there. Andddd....for one reason or another, the clothes either don't fit, can be loved even more by someone else, or simply cannot be squished in to my tiny closet at school...soooo I'm giving them to anyone that wants them for like 1/8 of the price I originally paid or to the person that offers me the most if a certain item is wanted by multiple people. The pictures of the first set of clothes I'm parting with are posted below. Beneath them are listed the approximate price I paid for the item and what I'm asking now. If you're interested call me, text me, comment on the post, fb message me, tweet me, whatever your heart desires. On Friday it all will magically disappear for good so let me know soon if you want something. </div>
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If I find more in the depths of my closet I will update this post. Also hiding in my closet are 4-5 pairs of Rock Revival jeans in sizes 27-29. They're in great shape and originally retail for $150+. I'll part with them for $40-$50. Let me know if you're specifically interested in those and I'll send you a picture. </div>
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I love my clothes and take very good care of them. They will be washed again and ironed/steamed if you decide you want something. </div>
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Daytrip Top, Size M <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">SOLD</span></div>
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Original Price: $35 Now: $5</div>
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Animal Print Daytrip Cardigan, Size M <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">SOLD</span></div>
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Original: $40 Now: $5 </div>
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Daytrip Vest w/ribbon ties, Size M <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">SOLD</span></div>
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Original: $30 Now: $5</div>
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Daytrip Coat (missing one button on pocket), Size M</div>
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Original: $95 Now: $25</div>
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Daytrip Top, Size M</div>
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Original: $30 Now: $5</div>
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Daytrip Top NWT, Size M/L</div>
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Original: $22 Now: $5</div>
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Daytrip Top, Size M/L</div>
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Original: $30 Now: $5</div>
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Daytrip Top w/drop back, Size M</div>
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Original: $30 Now: $5</div>
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Urban Outfitters Top, Size M/L</div>
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Original: $40 Now: $5</div>
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Daytrip Top, Size M/L</div>
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Daytrip T, Size M <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">SOLD</span></div>
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Original: $25 Now: $5</div>
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Daytrip Cardigan, Size M</div>
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Original: $35 Now: $5</div>
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Daytrip Top, Size M</div>
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Original: $30 Now: $5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwrc1CtPbwY1rlZRbSjcYHT1CZy1JrNWh2CHvDVAtRvdAwb9up2ZE2i-OjP6ffJqZQgXcVdTTA67HxFYoJFmrDK4kiaDGVCCa4xC6fz0dkHZs0RE_iaGott18Bu-y8XcROvHgad5CB9XI/s1600/IMG_4345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwrc1CtPbwY1rlZRbSjcYHT1CZy1JrNWh2CHvDVAtRvdAwb9up2ZE2i-OjP6ffJqZQgXcVdTTA67HxFYoJFmrDK4kiaDGVCCa4xC6fz0dkHZs0RE_iaGott18Bu-y8XcROvHgad5CB9XI/s320/IMG_4345.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Daytrip Top, Size M <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">SOLD</span></div>
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Original: $25 Now: $5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpoAvd5EVRqkfffSDGHX7Mwvg_z7TnI049SEksxJAUL-URIdAYiZgh0BHyZwWkSuljgsr6Ajt7ferj7ZAgFJZ4NQo3v3OxEPq5BwAN-Nqd20mBLkQ-OnLhL6WvKCSWKNQvNrAXwe4Lds/s1600/IMG_4346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpoAvd5EVRqkfffSDGHX7Mwvg_z7TnI049SEksxJAUL-URIdAYiZgh0BHyZwWkSuljgsr6Ajt7ferj7ZAgFJZ4NQo3v3OxEPq5BwAN-Nqd20mBLkQ-OnLhL6WvKCSWKNQvNrAXwe4Lds/s320/IMG_4346.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Daytrip Vest, Size M</div>
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Original: $25 Now: $5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_oZmuWjPioKr8uZFNDtz8Vcgm7JjcVEx6hWeR2UdB_RPIvmnWJ9_j6_up285nOLvjpGLCl8LIjQbdN1Py_HetLGABhGO00DGULHmfxlAmojsxGw6SFbrbcfxt8VCpQuoqKKOl5tgCD0/s1600/IMG_4347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_oZmuWjPioKr8uZFNDtz8Vcgm7JjcVEx6hWeR2UdB_RPIvmnWJ9_j6_up285nOLvjpGLCl8LIjQbdN1Py_HetLGABhGO00DGULHmfxlAmojsxGw6SFbrbcfxt8VCpQuoqKKOl5tgCD0/s320/IMG_4347.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Urban Outfitters Kimchi Blue Dress, Size M</div>
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Original: $65 Now: $10</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8wKUp9_scR7453iv7qo_iTLR6PFwnIaFe-2rldo50NIzbG_N-XMkEWbFlI20JJ1SO3z98v0Bn5QhW8ywLMw7psIEopExbo0SMf3XLnRn4dkJ__6q9-BLBZe1fLPZE5jXKFOAiGIaJiU/s1600/IMG_4348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8wKUp9_scR7453iv7qo_iTLR6PFwnIaFe-2rldo50NIzbG_N-XMkEWbFlI20JJ1SO3z98v0Bn5QhW8ywLMw7psIEopExbo0SMf3XLnRn4dkJ__6q9-BLBZe1fLPZE5jXKFOAiGIaJiU/s320/IMG_4348.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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H&M Dress, Size M/L</div>
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Original: $30 Now: $5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPJOmO2pLTs-9jKswcor1PctmZ3bn54RCjJdHYeWlp_ciTsZK2JqVzG5yGDiRXkxDNRtSnW1if4Btv10ixib_YbThb3zWsmqDdRNLWmjyqBQ1s47z5olfAy_LsTwKhTIJtG35iNCn2Bc/s1600/IMG_4349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPJOmO2pLTs-9jKswcor1PctmZ3bn54RCjJdHYeWlp_ciTsZK2JqVzG5yGDiRXkxDNRtSnW1if4Btv10ixib_YbThb3zWsmqDdRNLWmjyqBQ1s47z5olfAy_LsTwKhTIJtG35iNCn2Bc/s320/IMG_4349.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Calvin Klein Dress, Size M</div>
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Original: $35 Now: $5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcigL6d3t9fCrUAI2JyUe6qxjRPmXK-DrCavGatIqzwdSbabvhrIGRHbHJXa4J4yJOSYvRVAHQcUvgu0Z5fqX2veR22pTcG5dIdrXP9ppQWqtjYE5wkeMXmKuNduFQeQ_ZUZq7771WbY/s1600/IMG_4350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcigL6d3t9fCrUAI2JyUe6qxjRPmXK-DrCavGatIqzwdSbabvhrIGRHbHJXa4J4yJOSYvRVAHQcUvgu0Z5fqX2veR22pTcG5dIdrXP9ppQWqtjYE5wkeMXmKuNduFQeQ_ZUZq7771WbY/s320/IMG_4350.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Daytrip Cardigan, Size M/L <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">SOLD</span></div>
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Original: $40 Now: $5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCle7LRWHNyctzbm_2NZfsMTquaIbvZIpMOT8XOYF4A6htkbq6nF5aySutusYuK7wv3hoz_IPOoeo7z_zBRZGBpkV4YdRsU_MdLJZp2WR4_C19Cs7QSvhcEC8DW4Wq6SDrsLtY-h_C1xg/s1600/IMG_4351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCle7LRWHNyctzbm_2NZfsMTquaIbvZIpMOT8XOYF4A6htkbq6nF5aySutusYuK7wv3hoz_IPOoeo7z_zBRZGBpkV4YdRsU_MdLJZp2WR4_C19Cs7QSvhcEC8DW4Wq6SDrsLtY-h_C1xg/s320/IMG_4351.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Daytrip Crinkle Tank, Size M/L <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">SOLD</span></div>
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Original: $25 Now: $5</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwCKRTPqAoJ6fVLzn2o8ZEs2ASlPUOMeEHvrHjACKX3idezVfaEoMPoltURvrlTRYqjtF103Z2Pl1CKJoP6fvIhGNcmxuxREjSvW9YWrqtC54Nm2CpFuz16SXAW7aJwqIXDg3gpwuPyM/s1600/IMG_4352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwCKRTPqAoJ6fVLzn2o8ZEs2ASlPUOMeEHvrHjACKX3idezVfaEoMPoltURvrlTRYqjtF103Z2Pl1CKJoP6fvIhGNcmxuxREjSvW9YWrqtC54Nm2CpFuz16SXAW7aJwqIXDg3gpwuPyM/s320/IMG_4352.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Daytrip Vest, Size M</div>
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Let me know if you want anything! If not, it's cool. Some lovely clothes will just be tossed into the unknown that is thrift stores. </div>
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Chelsea </div>
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<br />Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-40114085754507505372013-11-10T12:28:00.000-07:002013-11-10T12:31:23.706-07:00ExperimentingI'm in a funk. I am. Plain and simple. I'm not sure where it originated or what caused it, but I have a theory. (If you're a social media activist this is your cue to put on some ear muffs or a blindfold while I rant) Social Media is little by little ruining our lives. There, I said it. This, coming from me, may sound a bit hypocritical because I can insta, tweet, like, pursue mayorships, and right or left swipe with the best of them. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE social media and it is an incredibly valuable tool for sharing information and staying connected, but it can also do those of us that use it regularly a major disservice. As of late I have found myself focusing much more on cyber reality rather than real life reality. I get caught up on how many likes my posts get, waste minutes coming up with witty responses and stalk the heck out of people I don't know and will never know. It's causing me to value superficial interactions rather than real ones. <br />
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Take a second and think back to the last human to human interaction that you've had. Were both of you talking? What was said? What questions did you ask? Did you learn something new about that person? I'm thinking back to a conversation that I "participated" in last night....and by participated I mean I sat in the back seat and tweeted at the driver and asked for a repeat of what was said multiple times because I was too busy scrolling through my timelines to actually be engaged in what was happening. So rude of me. Gross. Bleh. My apologies to everyone I've ever done that to. <br />
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Besides causing me to be a ghost in reality, social media has stirred up some major insecurities within me. It feels weird to admit this but it's the truth. When I'm perusing my favorite sites, it doesn't take me long to realize the things that I'm not. Something as little as a picture of someone visiting a cool place or accomplishing something awesome can fill me with a weird jealousy rather than genuine happiness for them and their life. It makes me competitive in a medium that shouldn't be used for competition but rather celebration. </div>
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I could go on and on and talk about so many little things that social media does to me, but I think I've made enough of a point. Sooooo...I'm experimenting this week. I want to see if there is a drastic change in the quality of my life when I'm actually living my life. My challenge: Starting at 5pm today NO Twitter, Instagram, Foursquare, Tinder, Snapchat, Facebook, etc...until Sunday, November 17th @ 5pm. Is it the typical social media fast? Yes, but with objectives. I'm going to pay attention to the following areas of my life to see how much they improve or suck over the course of a week: <i>Friendships, School, Work, Exercise, Self-Esteem</i>, and <i>Overall Mood/Demeanor. </i><br />
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Check back here next Sunday for an update on how it went. If you'd like to join me, let me know and we can compare our experiences and form a social media addict support group. </div>
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Peace out!</div>
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Chelsea </div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-85418679139356090052013-08-28T17:25:00.000-06:002013-08-28T17:25:06.850-06:00According to ChelseaI want so badly to blog and blog and blog and blog so much that this turns into one of those adorable Pinterest worthy blogs, but let's be honest for a minute. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how to cook lean cuisine, my arts and crafts skills do not extend beyond looking at Pinterest, my fashion choices are somewhat educated but mostly random, and if I can teach myself how to roll my hair in curlers then the rest of the world shouldn't have a problem. So that puts me in a constant struggle of what to blog....until now. *drum roll* Life according to me. Yep. Now all of you readers out there that just let out a long exasperated sigh thinking that I would turn into one of <i>those </i>girls that blogs about her life like it's superior to everyone else's or the doom and gloom drag everyone down with me opposite, you're wrong. Really this is nothing new. I'll comment on anything and everything with a semi-sarcastic tone like I usually do...but since I haven't blogged in 8 months, I felt the need to reiterate that before I attempt to be a blogger for the 23rd time. If you want to read and laugh at my bad jokes and ridiculous analogies, I'd LOVE to have you. If not...well...I'll catch you on the flip side, see ya later, but probably not invite you to my wedding. <br />
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xoxo<br />
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ChelseaChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-5584395635698360922013-01-01T16:55:00.000-07:002013-01-01T16:55:12.942-07:00Sum TotalMy relationship with my blog is an open relationship. Do we love each other? Yes. Am I committed to making it work in the long haul? Of course. Do I give it my undivided attention? No. No I do not. I wouldn't have anything to blog about if my dear blog was in the spotlight all the time. It's a good thing then that "A Day in the Life" and I have worked out a nice arrangement. It will stay home on my bookmarks tab on my pink macbook, patiently satisfying the needs of any visitors by directing them to my past work, maybe even bragging about me, and anxiously awaiting my return to fill my canteen of a blog with my thoughts, adventures, commentary, corny jokes, and inspirational metaphors that only make sense to me, myself, and I. This is the best that I can give. Fortunately my blog is understanding and accepts me for who I am and what I write. <div>
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There are so many things that I could say. I could rant and rave about the experiences I've had and the people I've met, but I don't really feel the need to. I could recap the most influential moments of 2012, but I don't feel like it. I could talk about what I'm going to do in 2013, but I don't like "what if" statements. So, instead, I'm going to talk about what every girl falls back on when they're in a funk: chick flicks. And...I just lost all male readers with two words. Excellent. Moving forward.</div>
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I've blogged on a topic similar to this (you can read it<a href="http://chelseafairbourn.blogspot.com/2012/04/moments-of-impact.html" target="_blank"> here</a>), but I'm taking a slightly different approach. One of my favorite chick flicks is <i>The Vow</i>. (No hateful thoughts readers, this is Chelsea's happy place where she has full control and you just keep reading, wondering how she is going to twist this into her happy go lucky thought of the day). It's not that I love the story, because it is terrible at times. Part of it probably is Channing Tatum. Paige and Leo do have an adorable relationship that I at times wish to replicate in a small bakery in Provo with a sampler box of chocolates. However, it's the message that gets to me. </div>
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"<i>My theory is about moments, moments of impact. My theory is that these moments of impact, these high flashes of intensity that completely turn our lives upside down actually end up defining who we are. The thing is each one of us is the </i><b><i>sum total</i></b><i> of every moment that we've ever experienced."</i></div>
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Our defining qualities come from the big and little things that we have experienced. My witty, sarcastic banter is probably genetic, but if it isn't it comes from the many many sarcastic conversations that I have had with my mother. My inability to admit that I'm wrong is also likely genetic, but if not, it comes from the bajillion and one times that I've seen my dad's burning red personality in action. Granted both of those examples could be classified as more of a trained response from the environment I grew up in than a single experience, but it's the idea that we are where we've been. Now, that last statement could get me into trouble with the "change" police. Yes, people can change. But...the past still defines the present. Past actions and experiences will always play a role in who you are right now, at this very moment, and they will continue to influence choices you make in the future. </div>
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I had no idea what I was going to say when I started this post, but I do now. I have no regrets. I do not regret a single thing about the last year, or the year before that, or the 17 years before that. I've said things I didn't mean, hurt people I care about, said things that I really did mean that I probably should have kept to myself, stayed up too late, "forgotten" to study for tests, and probably set the record for the number of hours wasted on social media sites. Even with all that, I am completely satisfied with who I am at this very second. I like my sum total. The question here is...do you like yours? If you don't, then maybe 2013 is the year for you to surround yourself with more positivity to outweigh the negatives in your total. </div>
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I am so excited for the upcoming year! I have absolutely no idea what I'll be doing, but I think that's what makes it so great. Here's to a year of awesome experiences, love, broken hearts, embarrassing moments, an infinite amount of awkward dating stories, missions, best friends' weddings, bad grades, and great people. It's going to be a roller coaster for sure. My favorite part is always when things get flipped upside down.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QxqMgs8X2gY_oLWVcMmGP7Ht1D_eyj1bAGS_tkLSihN_SQ_IZKKWJr-J3aRYEsn4GzjuU0TF7ZJ-rZgSBxmNXFqUCJiDo4tz3BTqjz5x86zJF2sKfJXWReEt7Y_fy6besyeo8Gz5NSk/s1600/treadmill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QxqMgs8X2gY_oLWVcMmGP7Ht1D_eyj1bAGS_tkLSihN_SQ_IZKKWJr-J3aRYEsn4GzjuU0TF7ZJ-rZgSBxmNXFqUCJiDo4tz3BTqjz5x86zJF2sKfJXWReEt7Y_fy6besyeo8Gz5NSk/s320/treadmill.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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For those of you that were wondering....my toenail is completely grown back. The world is good again! (refer to this dramatized<a href="http://chelseafairbourn.blogspot.com/2012/07/a-toetally-sad-story.html" target="_blank"> post</a>)</div>
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Yours truly, </div>
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Chelsea</div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-28637103458014810472012-07-18T11:12:00.000-06:002012-07-18T11:12:40.479-06:00A "Toe"tally Sad StoryDisclosure: The following story may come across as a joke. It's not. It's very real. With real people, real experiences, real emotion, and downright real-ness. <div>
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I have a thing for feet. I love them or hate them. As of 48 hours ago I was in great standing with my feet. So much so that if I had made a list of phrases/adjectives that represented my affection toward the little size eight feet, it would probably look something like this --> Nails. Nail polish. Nail art. Toes. Ten. Flip Flops. Summer. Exposure. Bare. Pretty. Coral. Eternal love.</div>
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However, it is not 48 hours ago. It is now. And this is how I feel about my feet --></div>
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Mutilated. Incomplete. Nine. Absent. Missing. Unfortunate in appearance. Closed toed shoes. Homely. Sad. Covered. Broken hearted. </div>
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Why? Oh please, let me tell you. As part of my thing for feet and/or nails, I ALWAYS have my nails painted. My polish usually correlates with the season and my general mood. I consider it an extension of my personality. From this info you can get a little taste as to how important each of my 10 fingernails and 10 toenails are to me. On top of that, it's summer. Summer means flip flops. And...flip flops demand pretty toes.</div>
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I do my part to keep my feet in their prime. My running shoes are the right size, my socks are breathable and not too thin/thick, my toenails are trimmed to the right length, and I am a regular at Holly's Nails where they clean up anything I missed and polish my toes to perfection. Despite all of these precautions, tragedy struck on Monday night at approximately 10:35 pm. It came out of the blue. An unpleasant surprise with no signs or symptoms. I was sitting alone in the hallway of Chipman Hall at BYU, patiently waiting for my wonderful sport's camp girls to go to sleep when I looked down at my toes. The Horror. I honestly (as pathetic as this will sound) have never felt so helpless in my life. My once beautiful, coral painted, left big toenail was hanging on for dear life. In that moment I felt no pain, just sorrow. Mini flashbacks of happier times with all ten toenails played in my mind. They reminded me of what was and what would not be in the next 6-12 months. </div>
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The next two hours were terrible. My toenail was in transition, not completely off, but so close. Those around me wrote off my depression as a plea for attention, when, in reality, I was genuinely troubled. I spent the time in limbo on google, looking for any advice that might help me through my first loss of this kind. I found comfort in a web series by Dr. Jacoby. His videos outlined what the healing process would be like, what to expect, and how to behave in the meantime. While he mentioned that it could take anywhere from 6-12 months for complete regrowth, he offered reassuring words that all would be well again to me and his 6,977 other viewers. His emphasis on complete removal helped me to take action, remove the nail, and apply a bandage. Though I experienced a twinge pain in the process, I knew it was for the best and that removal was not a means to an end, rather a beginning.</div>
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While still mourning, I am finding happiness in the little things again and feeling tremendous gratitude for those that were there for me. In my time of need my dear roommate Anna and some of her campers allowed me to openly express my feelings and struggles to them while they somewhat respectfully listened, laughed, and offered their opinions. One of the girls went as far as to initial my toenail as a symbol of her support and Anna was kind enough to visit the vending machines to get peanut m&m's for me. </div>
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This morning we (Me, Anna, and our campers) held a memorial service for "Toey". It was short and sweet, kind of like Toey herself. I shared some memories, recited a "Toe"logy, accepted kind words from Anna and the campers, and held a moment of silence. Then, we buried her. Wrapped in a light blue sticky note adorned with a smiley face, she entered the ground. Anna then led the girls in the first line of "God Be With You Til We Meet Again". Overall it was a beautiful service. The next few months will be tough, especially with it still being open toe shoe season, but I have faith that my new nail will grow in stronger, prettier, and hangnail free. </div>
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Please enjoy the pictures of the process below:</div>
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Ouchie</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7wdfjvEoemGChIF6EC5zrOn1oMBX-B6_CbFCJMEGDBU3YVeFrIUE1vEEcOjM3emsTnbWuz4SX5f8ALYA0kjvIPQ04cPJWQCxQKKuC344iorbIUdR9ebc5NnT5BD-T2YULYfgaU6W0G-U/s1600/IMG_1881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7wdfjvEoemGChIF6EC5zrOn1oMBX-B6_CbFCJMEGDBU3YVeFrIUE1vEEcOjM3emsTnbWuz4SX5f8ALYA0kjvIPQ04cPJWQCxQKKuC344iorbIUdR9ebc5NnT5BD-T2YULYfgaU6W0G-U/s320/IMG_1881.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Support Group</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidY3h6_zJ9yYKXpeRrxEuJkAzR5p2KqZMvuUcItr_QYH3DcdhFtnu4UoeIaenzqjyTu3tqYEcimryrbgnPZtFspxL_N_jvySZR7vPmBI1n7jn1KgpJEPujuhfsBqNtRhBNLEHwg23PX44/s1600/IMG_1884.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidY3h6_zJ9yYKXpeRrxEuJkAzR5p2KqZMvuUcItr_QYH3DcdhFtnu4UoeIaenzqjyTu3tqYEcimryrbgnPZtFspxL_N_jvySZR7vPmBI1n7jn1KgpJEPujuhfsBqNtRhBNLEHwg23PX44/s320/IMG_1884.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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ello bandage</div>
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New shoe of choice</div>
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Toey in the grave</div>
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Her headstone "Birth-July 16, 2012"</div>
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Uncontrollable sobs</div>
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Stage makeup or raw emotion? </div>
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My future band aid use is bright and kitty!</div>
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There you have it, a toetally sad story. If you have any advice, comments, or well wishes please contact me. Also.........the <a href="http://chelseafairbourn.blogspot.com/2012_04_01_archive.html" target="_blank">Sport's Hero Day story</a> that I referred to in a post a few months back has been published! Check out page three of the current issue of BYU Magazine. </div>
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Yours truly --> Chelsea</div>
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</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-91718842620613439752012-05-24T11:50:00.000-06:002012-05-24T11:57:51.600-06:00The Dreaded GrowlGenerally I like to think of myself as a pretty stable person. By stable I mean to say that I adapt to new and unique situations fairly well. However, there is one very specific situation that catches me off guard almost every time. <br />
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Every Monday and Wednesday I wake up at 8 am ish. Disoriented I stumble out into the kitchen, grab my usual square blue bowl, pour a generous amount of cereal, add the proportional amount of milk, and haphazardly attempt to feed myself. On good days all of it makes it into my mouth, other days...well...my green, mold like carpet gets a luxurious creamy bath. Why is it necessary that you know this? It's my proof that I do indeed eat, despite what I'm about to tell you next. </div>
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You see, twice a week, on those beloved Mondays and Wednesdays, I have a New Testament class at 11 that lasts two hours. This class takes place in an intimately small room with fantastic acoustics. It is five rows deep and houses about 30 people total. Because of its religious nature my professor has a very strict "no technology" policy as well as a "no talking policy", unless you are responding to something he has said. Because of all of these factors, the class is extremely quiet. </div>
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I have a love/hate relationship with this class and I'll tell you why. At approximately 11:15 each class period (it seriously is like clock work, I should create some sort of log) I face the most utterly terrifying feeling in the entire world (yes, it is that bad). It starts out as a subtle hollow feeling, then slowly works to an ache. At this point in the process I'm panicking. I chomp on my gum, chug my water, hastily search my bag for anything edible, yet, it is never enough. Because...what happens next...happens regardless of my tireless efforts...and is almost worse than Emily Maynard keeping the self proclaimed entertainer in the awful green shirt on the first night of The Bachelorette (almost, he's terrible)...it is...the growl. <br />
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A soft gurgling, it causes a frenzy. Internally I'm freaking out. As subtly as humanly possible, my arms creep up to my stomach and get in position, ready to tightly fold over my menace of a stomach at a moment's notice. The ultimate feeling of emptiness comes next. I feel hollow and my body knows it. All of my muscles tighten, the little hairs on my arms jump up, every nerve in my body in tune with my teeny tiny stomach. Then, as if out of no where, it comes. The deep grumble. We're not talking little rock slide grumble. We're talking Mt. Vesuvius grumble.<br />
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Nobody around me will make eye contact or acknowledge that an earthquake just took place next to them, but they are all thinking "Hmmm...she should probably eat" or "Wow, I'm willing to bet that this girl never eats", and the most likely "Huh...I thought Mt. St. Helen's was in Washington". j<br />
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Everyone's been there. It's incredibly awkward and personally irritating. Generally my response to the situation above is silence. Sometimes I throw in, to the person sitting next to me, "Wow, I must be hungry", to which I usually get a pity chuckle. And on occasion I've found myself wishing for an imaginary friend that would bring me some imaginary food that would, at least in my imagination, end the misery. <br />
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Fortunately for me I have found my salvation in snack form. Before now I had tried virtually anything and everything to satisfy me with out throwing off my eating schedule. Sound the trumpets for this little bit of heaven on earth: <br />
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So simple. So yummy. So filling.<br />
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Try it out, I promise you'll love it. I have been stomach growl free for two class periods on this baby. <br />
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To my beloved readers I wish a wonderful Memorial Weekend, a full belly, and a pity laugh on my behalf.<br />
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Chelsea<br />
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<br /></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-6044538647858153712012-05-10T12:21:00.001-06:002012-05-10T12:21:31.954-06:00{nostalgia}I've never been one to yearn for the past, but I know the type. Longing for simpler, easier times they reminisce on the many great memories while selectively eliminating the negative ones. It's in human nature to avoid present tense. We can't wait until next week...or next month...or when we finally hit our twenties...and we wish we could go back and rekindle the flame with our elementary school flings, relive our 16th birthday, experience prom all over again, and score the game winning goal. There's nothing wrong with thinking like this, in fact it's healthy to remember moments of positivity, but it should also be kept in check. <div>
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This might come across as a random post, but I promise I will get to the point eventually...... You see, I spent the weekend with my family in Disneyland. It was my 7 year old brother's first time. Being able to witness firsthand the raw happiness that manifested itself in his subtle half smile and incessant chatter as he met his favorite characters and rode the rides was truly a privilege. I've honestly never seen him happier. Was it Disneyland itself? Highly likely. Was it the warm weather? Eh...potentially. Was it the fact that he had full control over what we did for four days? I'd be welling to bet the lemon raspberry cheescake waiting for me in the fridge that it was. (Yes. Lemon raspberry cheesecake is sacred. And very bet worthy) Regardless of what it was that made him happy, I distinctly remember feeling the slightest bit envious of him. To be seven again, free from the chains of the young adulthood poverty and the academic strain that bind me, would be fantastic. And...I've felt this way since I said adios to him at the airport. But then...it hit me. His life is not any easier than mine (right now you're thinking "Alright Chelsea, where in the heck are you going with this?"). I may have some aspects of my life that I struggle with and that I find inconvenient, but so does he. He has bad days. He has to find someone to sit by at lunch. He has to share is favorite legos. He has to learn how to read. He has to go to bed before everyone else. He can't have fruit rollups for dinner. His life is tough! </div>
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Kody and I both have difficulties. We both have joys. However, they are catered to our age. Remembering this is key in those moments (or hours in my case) of nostalgia. Wishing away your life with the vain hope that you'll someday return to your "glory days" or "high school years" is silly because it wasn't any easier back then. Sure, looking back makes it seem that way, but that's only because of the perception and growth that came from overcoming and moving on from the things you faced back then. The same could be said of the times that we look forward, thinking "Oh, I'll start reading about Ghandi next week to become a better person" or, my personal favorite in Provo, "I'll start working out once I'm engaged". The time is now my friends. </div>
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My hope for those that read this is that you will recognize that the best time to focus on is right now. Stress about the future and remorse for lost opportunity is inevitable, but recognizing that you can neither change the past nor control the future is crucial. So...a challenge for all of us to work on together is to a) set attainable goals that you can work on a little bit each day; b) slow down and cherish the simple things of daily life; and c) Look back to remember good and learn from the bad...and look forward with hope that you will be able to look back and remember the good and the bad that you are currently experiencing. </div>
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Forgive me for the long post, it was much longer than anticipated. And forgive my eternal rampant, I like to write, so...naturally this happens. </div>
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*stepping off my soap box*</div>
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Chelsea </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-16051471146581708422012-04-26T11:47:00.000-06:002012-04-26T12:38:16.849-06:00Moments of Impact When I moved out of my home of 14 years this past fall and into "Happy Valley" for a plethora of new experiences I told myself two things: don't get married and steer clear of any student leader/activity position that would take away my precious free time. I broke one of my self-promises. I'm getting married. Joke. I got sucked into the incredibly enticing pit that is Y-Serve. <br />
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Y-Serve is a BYU sponsored organization that coordinates and creates student service opportunities on and off campus. I'd like to say that I avoided it before falling in headfirst, but I honestly didn't. I had no idea that such an organization even existed until January. <br />
On January 21st (maybe...I can't remember the exact date), I got a chance to be a group leader for a program at BYU called Sports Hero Day. I was assigned a group of 20 6th grade boys to chaperone as they moved from station to station interacting with athletes from teams that included diving, soccer, baseball, golf, volleyball, track, and football. The boys loved it. I tried to reign them in, but let's be real for a moment. They are 12 year old boys. They love sports. They love people that are really good at the sports they love. Most love BYU. This made it nearly impossible to have any level of real control over them. Luckily I convinced them early on that if they were good for me I would do all I could to get them a chance to interact with the big name athletes. Did I have any way of following through? No, not really. But somehow it happened. My group just happened to consistently be in the right spot at the right time. I chalked it up to coincidence. They thought I was some heavenly being sent down to make their sports dreams come true. Did I try to convince them I wasn't? No, I let them think what they wanted to think and may or may not have accepted their requests for my autograph. <br />
On that January 22nd day (maybe if I switch up the days I'll guess the right one sooner or later) my first moment of impact at BYU happened. At the time I didn't think anything of it. I considered it the best four hours of my time at BYU, but nothing more. However, I did have an incredible experience that involved one of the boys in my group and a few of the athletes. When I went to a reflection activity a week later I shared it and they (the program directors) asked me to write my experience down and email it to them. So I did. I wrote down exactly how the experience was for me and what I was able to witness and sent it in. I didn't think any more of it. That was the end of the line. The last stop on the train. <br />
Now, four months later, almost everything I am currently apart of and the incredible opportunities I have stem from the four hours of service I randomly decided to give. Since submitting my story I have become a program director for Sports Hero Day, Chad Lewis contacted me to include my story in his new book <i>The Power of the Jersey</i>, <i>BYU Magazine </i>also contacted me to include the story in their next issue, I got a position as an intern for BYU Athletic Marketing, and I have met some absolutely incredible people. <br />
I don't share this as a way of boasting or bragging about what has happened. That's not what I'm about. I share it as a way of drawing attention to the idea of moments of impact. They happen when least expected, when we have genuine intentions in the opposite direction of the direction it ends up taking us. I feel extremely privileged to be where I'm at, but none of it was my doing. I consider myself a messenger. I was fortunate enough to witness something truly incredible and I wrote it down. The moment of impact came when I was offered a position as a program director. I could choose to take it and dive into the unknown, or continue on with my freshman year. Accepting the position has opened up so many doors and completely revamped the course I was planning on taking. <br />
Each of us has the potential to have incredible experiences. I think the key to recognizing them when they happen is living in the moment. Engulfing yourself in your work, service, school, or anything really allows you to be more in tune with your actions and, in turn, the consequences good and bad. The age old saying "You get out what you put in" could not be more true. So I challenge whoever may read this to not put in 20% of what you have to offer. Give it all you've got, lay your cards out on the table. What do you have to lose? I know it's easier said than done, but from personal experience I can assure you that putting forth your 100% will bring you and those around you 200% in return. <br />
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Chelsea<br />
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P.S. I referenced a "story" throughout that was too long to post. If anyone as some random urge to read it let me know and I can email a copy. It would probably provide some insight as to why I wrote what I wrote in this seemingly never ending blog post.<br />
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</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-57676646794884043222012-04-10T11:12:00.000-06:002012-04-10T11:12:28.095-06:00ChangeOnce upon a time I set a bunch of seemingly attainable goals related to blogging and writing. In an ideal world I would blog once a week as a way of broadening my horizons, sharing my thoughts and ideas, and getting more writing experience. However, this thing called life bombarded me, raided my free time, and took over. Rude right? So, in an effort to rebel against the craziness of life, I'm going to be making some changes on my blog. I'm about to embark on some crazy adventures and new experiences, and I want to have a place that I can document it. In addition, I've recently partnered with an organization called One Step, a program that is working to decrease childhood obesity by promoting running. So this blog may also be hijacked from time to time with running/fitness/healthy eating tips in my efforts to contribute to the organization and supplement what they are working toward. Here's to a fresh start, a new blog, and a ton of new experiences!<br />
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ChelseaChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-70500683225916752202012-01-02T15:24:00.005-07:002012-01-03T10:08:19.829-07:00Cliche of the Day: Out with the old...in with the NEW<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ77HoRveGKwUbL_1c85FuZWwJW_SlMVKhWhyxXr9KjzHlSi9DmixTGs_HzcbyBi1zTCuAdwe7UNhXz9ymUQ45QgdzFBdHvporVKvLGazx0iKILOZv5SQsvV6-JF-llYSmX_vUsFzG66o/s1600/402744_342547912421981_100000003254236_1457804_935634657_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ77HoRveGKwUbL_1c85FuZWwJW_SlMVKhWhyxXr9KjzHlSi9DmixTGs_HzcbyBi1zTCuAdwe7UNhXz9ymUQ45QgdzFBdHvporVKvLGazx0iKILOZv5SQsvV6-JF-llYSmX_vUsFzG66o/s320/402744_342547912421981_100000003254236_1457804_935634657_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="color: #515151; font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2011 was a good, solid year. There were memories made that make me wish I had instant replay, and then there were those that made me want to curl up in the fetal position. But what’s life without give and take, a little opposition? The good and bad times alike define who we are as individuals. How we respond to success and tribulation colors our character. That being said, I’m proud of who I am becoming. I’m not perfect, I have a long ways to go, but I’m learning. So here are ten of the most impactful happenings, in no particular order, from my 2011 that have contributed to the person I see when I look in the mirror:</span></span></div><ol style="list-style-type: decimal;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Finishing my term as Student Body President</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: Very few experiences compare to my time as an SBO. It was one of the hardest, most frustrating times of my life but also one of the most rewarding. I got to meet so many new people that I wouldn’t have met otherwise and develop friendships with truly incredible people. If given the chance I would do it all over in a heartbeat. However, until time travel is invented, I’m stuck in the present. Moving on...</span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b></b> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Turning 18</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: In reality this isn’t all that significant. Benefits: Signing legal documents and ordering whatever I want off of infomercials and HSN. Not quite considered benefits: Additional responsibility and the potential for gray hair and wrinkles. Joke. </span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Completing AP English</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: There is one woman to whom I give all credit for my love of writing. Her name is Mrs. Morrison. She believed in me, plain and simple. Because of her class I decided on a major and learned the skills necessary to make it through my first semester of college.</span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Helvetica Light'; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Graduating</span></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: One of those moments that has to be on every list like this because it separates your childhood from your entrance into adulthood. </span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Senior Trip to Lake Powell</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: People are awesome and I have great friends. </span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My Mom’s Heart Attack</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: I refuse to go into details, but this was the lowest point of my life for me. Not knowing if someone you love will be there when you wake up is terrifying. Cherish those you love.</span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Moving Out</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: Extremely bittersweet. Living on my own (aka living with 5 other girls) for four months has been great, but it’s hard to be away from home. It’s all about adaptation and adjusting to what lies in front of you.</span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BYU</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: There is honestly no school I’d rather go to. The atmosphere can’t be beat and the education is top notch. Sure there are some weird people and crazy ideas about dating, but I love it. All of it. It’s not for everyone, but I’m proud to say I’m True Blue, Cougar through and through.</span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Running</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: Over the summer I ran my first half marathon. You heard me, 13.1 miles. I hated every second. Then...something changed. I kept on keeping on where running was concerned and I grew to love it! It’s extremely therapeutic and beneficial healthwise. Bring on half marathon number two, t-minus 19 days!</span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b></b> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">: Everyone makes mistakes, everybody has those days...oh shoot, there I go quoting Miley Cyrus again. Whoops! Anyway...people are people and people aren’t perfect. I relied too heavily this year on people being exactly the way I thought they should be. I can only control my own actions and how I respond and react to other people. There is definitely room for improvement here.</span></span></li>
</ol><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There you have it! My very vague, generalized summary of 2011. It may not provide a very interesting read for you, but it was certainly enjoyable reminiscing exercise for me. So here’s to learning from the past and jumping into a new year. 2012...you’re mine :)</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yours truly, </span></span></div><div style="color: #515151; font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">Chelsea</span></span></span></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-61199529596321317242011-03-26T12:10:00.001-06:002011-03-26T12:11:52.626-06:00SPRINGI can feel it! I can feel it! I heard it said once that during the winter we hibernate....after pondering this thought, it is so true! All winter we stay indoors, drinking loads of high calorie hot chocolate, watching Modern Family or Grey's Anatomy re runs because we are too lazy to do something productive with our lives. But...it's warming up (kinda) and the sun is out! <br />
<div>This past week I caught spring fever. I found myself cleaning, organizing, going to bed early, getting homework done before 12...I feel like a new woman and it makes me sooo happy! Moving past the dreary bleh tones of winter into the vibrant brilliance of spring is rejuvenating and empowering. And this is only the beginning...I'm so excited for all that this spring has to offer me, General Conference, deciding on a college, SBO elections, Sterling Scholar competition, and graduation! There is so much potential for greatness, I can't wait to dive in head first. </div><div>Best wishes to any who may actually read this, set a new goal for spring, and get out there and accomplish it!<br />
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</div><div>With love, </div><div>Chelsea</div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-12310745765550391892011-01-30T23:09:00.000-07:002011-01-30T23:09:30.532-07:00{the simpler the better}Life: A never ending cycle of happiness, sorrow, bliss, misery, and love. Whether you like it to or not...it keeps moving. You get caught in a whirl wind of craziness, bombarded with challenge after challenge. Then...the sun rises. Yesterday is the past. Today is the present, literally. It hasn't been easy, but I am trying to view each day as a gift, embracing what it has to offer me. As for today, my gift was church. Feeling the spirit and feasting on the gospel has a way of putting a smile on my face. Why you may ask? It's simple. Church is simple. The gospel is simple. Having a testimony is simple. It's either true or it isn't. It's simple, it's true. <div><br />
</div><div>My second gift of the day was my family. I love them. My dad's extremely entertaining attempts to train a dog, mom's new passion for hide and scare, Court's love for all things cooking, and Kody's obsession with his "workers" are gifts to me. Without them I wouldn't be who I am, each of their sometimes silly and crazy ways, is a part of me. Family is simple, family is good :)</div><div><br />
</div><div>The simpler life, is the better. Live each day as if it is a gift. Obsess over simple things. Live simply.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Simple Obsession of the Day: Lillies, my favorite flower.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUI1ZkzoFfzTFD8IDhrNHuMdcl5hhcOnj_I_4l6DcM5vV5Xn7Ph4fX_RlUR_I_db97SRtpIb3je58SzrUKebo3pnwsgQZEzRhOShEsmJadsQa3_FP5mQTJooZbY5dd8z-S51V1YVTWD84/s1600/428px-Stargazer_Lillies_Lillium_orientale_%2527Stargazer%2527_Flower_2000px.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUI1ZkzoFfzTFD8IDhrNHuMdcl5hhcOnj_I_4l6DcM5vV5Xn7Ph4fX_RlUR_I_db97SRtpIb3je58SzrUKebo3pnwsgQZEzRhOShEsmJadsQa3_FP5mQTJooZbY5dd8z-S51V1YVTWD84/s320/428px-Stargazer_Lillies_Lillium_orientale_%2527Stargazer%2527_Flower_2000px.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><div>Ooodles of Love, </div><div>Chelsea </div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-36893090489138027352011-01-08T00:47:00.001-07:002011-01-08T00:54:38.995-07:002010 goes out with a bang...2011 is in with a...what rhymes with bang?It's January. When did I start my blog? November. How many posts do I have? 2, 3 now. So I think it's about time I do some updating.<br />
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December was incredible! I don't recall a holiday season quite like this one....participating in service activities, decorating, shopping, even traveling to NEW YORK, Wishbox, getting my cute puppy Pepper, and spending New Years weekend at a pretty legit cabin with dear friends. I'm pretty sure there is not nearly enough space on my blog to go through everything I did, but I will review the highlights.<br />
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First, the spirit of Christmas and giving/serving others is by far the best part of the holiday season. I absolutely LOVE giving gifts, especially when they reflect the true meaning of Christmas. This year that was my goal. Although, I did give my brother his first snuggie (it's camo and totally him) and my sister a pillow pet...Anyway, for example, one gift I put together included 12 stories, one for each day leading up to Christmas, that reflected a meaningful aspect of the holiday and of course told the story of the Savior's birth. Never before has literature touched me quite like this. It provided a much needed change in perspective. <br />
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On the 14th us girls and some friends were able to travel back East to experience Christmas in New York. I have never seen anything like it! Buildings everywhere you look, technology, shopping, food, insane amounts of people, and of course honking cars...I LOVED it! We had five days to live it up and I think we succeeded. Due to laziness I will just list the activities: Empire State Building, Elf on Broadway, front row tickets to the Radio City Music Hall Rockettes Christmas Spectacular, Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, riding the subway, Wicked, shopping.... :), double decker bus tour of Christmas lights, Chinatown/knock-off purse buying experience, Top of the Rock, Mamma Mia, ice skating at Rockefeller Plaza, and Catholic Mass. So much fun! I definitely recommend Christmas in New York at least once in your lifetime :)<br />
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The rest of December was pretty chill. My family got a cute puppy...he's a British Lab named Pepper. He's mellow and likes to lick my toes....I guess he's pretty cool :) But...I'm allergic to him, so I can only enjoy his company in moderation. New Year's weekend was insane, but so much fun! It was spent in a cabin near Heber City...many memories were made and friendships were strengthened. <br />
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2011 has been a great year thus far, I look forward to what it has in store for me!<br />
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Ooodles of love,<br />
ChelseaChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-5091965944752877282010-12-09T17:22:00.000-07:002010-12-09T17:22:59.427-07:00Stress & Comfort FoodAs a young child (12 years old) I remember wondering what it would be like to be stressed. I never thought I would be stressed....psh....stress was for everyone BUT me. Hmm...I was so wrong. Over the past week free time has been nonexistent. Each day is basically a 20 hour work day. I wake up, go to school, sit through meetings periodically throughout the day, then meetings after school, go home, spend the early afternoon writing, eat a roll or something quick, then it's calculus, ednet comes next, sbo responsibilities distract me from all of the previously listed so I redo it, by this time it's 11 pm, and I'm not even half way through my "to do" list. It's a vicious cycle that leaves me tired and always on the brink of a cold. Thank heavens for Airborne!<div><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the select few moments each day that I relax I enjoy my "comfort food". The cheesy texts I get nearly each night from a certain set of twins, long talks with a fellow sbo, my little brother begging me to take "photo booth" pictures with him,being Courtney's test dummy for her baking experiments, reading letters, laughing with my mom, and curling up with my snuggies for quick nap, all make the stress go away, even if it's for just a few minutes. Those moments are my "comfort food". They won't make me gain weight or break out from excessive chocolate consumption, however, they will relieve the stress and make it all worth it. I cherish my family and friends, for it is them that keeps my world going 'round.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7e8ZZvsUg6NbE9oRZ1zOnvP7-BYGeBzWJUNAHGs_VnHF_R3U6UywimLeYYuqvJb78EudD9_M-ZHA8__3GuZTgkes82eeBu8yu1cT5tPEQdoBVJbjwE9ugOXhKMFdnXlhoIsj4WbKsgY/s1600/Photo+on+2010-03-18+at+19.33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7e8ZZvsUg6NbE9oRZ1zOnvP7-BYGeBzWJUNAHGs_VnHF_R3U6UywimLeYYuqvJb78EudD9_M-ZHA8__3GuZTgkes82eeBu8yu1cT5tPEQdoBVJbjwE9ugOXhKMFdnXlhoIsj4WbKsgY/s320/Photo+on+2010-03-18+at+19.33.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ooodles of love,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Chelsea </div><div><div><br />
</div></div></div>Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4563978587456570699.post-3372552990090436072010-11-29T17:57:00.000-07:002010-11-29T17:57:36.005-07:00SimplicityMy first blog. What do you write about in a first blog? Should I ramble about my newness to blogging? For fear of overdoing it I will keep it simple. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtIpLa8veoE1Yj6WBK7l9tjqzLy2SiKerQY8SBBlqNNiYSlf567g2N8ye2JhR8ajGVQb2qk3LfH_XoU26kc8jhogIpZn-gF06xIlDSJsbfPmP12jFims_nuO3LlBW0ELDLuAn0hO8tS4/s1600/promiseme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtIpLa8veoE1Yj6WBK7l9tjqzLy2SiKerQY8SBBlqNNiYSlf567g2N8ye2JhR8ajGVQb2qk3LfH_XoU26kc8jhogIpZn-gF06xIlDSJsbfPmP12jFims_nuO3LlBW0ELDLuAn0hO8tS4/s320/promiseme.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>Over the long weekend I read one of the best books I have read in awhile. It's titled <i>Promise Me </i>and was written by Richard Paul Evens. It would be absolutely horrible of me to give anything away, but it made me appreciate the simple things in life. As I am writing this post by the warm glow of the fireplace snuggled up with my snuggie, I am grateful for simplicity. The holiday season, my brother's pirate imitation, and the gentle snowflakes that I wish were falling right now bring my focus back to the little things. Those in need of a good book, refer to the one listed above ^ and may you cherish simplicity. <br />
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Oodles of love,<br />
ChelseaChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07314577934233051735noreply@blogger.com0