#NextWeekNicaragua

Nicaragua fell into my lap.

I caught wind of great airfare, convinced a buddy of mine to join, threw our airfare onto my credit card, got my PTO approved, and went about my Friday at the office.

Over the weekend I decided on a few cities to visit, and the following Thursday morning we were wheels up to Managua.

Instances like this remind me how INSANELY lucky I am to live this life, and be able to up and leave the way that I did. I remember being in Belize and talking to a handful of backpackers who had been making their way up the coast, and every one of them raved about Nica. I couldn't wait to go find out for myself...

And then there was #OMGBelize

I guess I should have been more nervous about the fact that I had only spent a cumulative 18 hours total with one girl I was traveling with, not to mention I had never even met other gal.

Even as I was nearly sprinting through the Atlanta airport after a slightly late flight into the great Peach state, trying to get to the international terminal to meet them, the only thing that was on my mind was if I had actually thrown in enough swimsuits or was 3 was going to be disappointingly too few.

Does that mean I've hit that level of weirdness that traveling to Central America with two strangers doesnt even phase me? #bloggerprobs

Maybe I should back up and explain how this entire trip even came about. Sometime in the middle of the summer, I stumbled upon a ridiculously cheap roundtrip flight to Belize from Atlanta. After half-jokingly sending the link to Whit, she replied "let's book it". Mind you, I send her random flights at least once a day and usually she just tells me to get back to work. Naturally, my reply was SERIOUSLY? and we both decided 'why the hell not'.

She got a hold of her sister, as they had been tossing around the idea of a fall trip, and I tried to wake up Jenn in Vegas, as we had been throwing around the idea of Thailand in 2014. After a little convincing, we had 4 airline tickets purchased and a slight smirk on our faces. About 4 hours later, prices went up about $400. Yahtzee.

 The next few days were filled with a lot of "Holy shit what did we just book?" and  "Where is Belize anyways?" Those quickly evolved into "Oh my god we're going to Belize!", a countdown was started, and the token #OMGBelize phrase was born.

Funny how quickly those hundred or so days had flown by. Once settled into row 13, Whit & I looked at each other and just giggled... 'watch out Belize, here we come!'

Little did we know the adventures we were about to stumble upon.

Dear 17 year old Chels

Dear 17 year old Chelsea, 

You're about to start college. That's a little weird, eh? You were a little nervous to venture too far from the nest, and opposed to becoming a Cardinal, so you tossed aside that Ball State acceptance letter and settled on Herron School of Art + Design here in Indy. 

Nervous doesn't even begin to cut it. Things will get easier. You're going to love going to art school. It's going to open your eyes to so many new opportunities and people you never got to experience in suburbia high school.

That guy you're crushing on... hate to break it to you, but it doesn't end up well. He'll make you a lot of promises but ultimately decide that fidelity isn't his style. It's ok. He's not that cool after all, I promise. And when you fast forward 6 or 7 years he gets a little chubby and a lot less cute. So maybe it does end up well. You realize dating the party boy isn't exactly the path to a lifetime of wedded bliss. 

Your closest girlfriends, most of them went away to school. They're making new friends just like you are. Instead of seeing them 4 nights a week and having sleepovers every weekend you're going to start seeing them less and less. They won't come home every weekend. And you won't go visit them as often. It sucks, and your feelings will get a little hurt that they have these new lives. Don't let it get to you too much.. spoiler alert: you guys will rekindle in a few years, and have even more fun. 

Since your best friends are all spread out, you'll start spending more time with your family. Embrace it. This becomes a beautiful thing, and a lot of people aren't that lucky. I know, I know... going to dinner with your parents on a Friday night isn't THAT cool. On the plus side, you're going to save a LOT of money while they still buy your food. That padded bank account will come in handy later, promise. 

Oh, and Chels... stop Facebook stalking that ex from senior year. Those girls he parties with, also end up fat and don't get too far in life. I'll send you another spoiler alert, he ends up in rehab (girl, you really need to rethink these guys you choose to date). On the plus side, you guys become pretty good friends when he needs someone to lean on. He teaches you how to distinguish between love-love and friend-love. Thanks to him, you learn to not hold grudges, you learn that not everyone is meant to stay in your life, and that that is perfectly fine. 

All those hobbies that weren't cool to have in high school... embrace them now. Sewing and making scrapbooks may seem lame, but I promise in a few years when all your friends are hanging out on your couch you guys are going to laugh it up while flipping through the pages of your Spring Break albums, curled up under the quilts you made. People are going to start paying you to make them things too... again, with the padded bank account. Embrace it sista, you've got talent!

That bank account is about to come in handy... you're realizing how much you love to travel, and now without such a strict high school schedule you've got more free time to do it. Embrace that you've got friends living out west, go visit. A lot. Hit up as many beaches as you can in Mexico and the Caribbean. They're cheap to fly there now, they're going to get a lot more expensive the older you get, ugh.  Travel every chance you get! You're going to love it!

Oh, and for the love of god.... put the macbook down for a bit. I get that you have a lot of design work to do for your classes, but ease up a bit. I promise you'll be ok. You figure it out later in college that you don't NEED to get A's & B's, you're going to land an internship thanks to who you know, not what you know. Silly as it sounds, life is a little backwards sometimes.

Have some fun, little Chels, I'm not going to tell you these are the best years of your life, because you seem to do a lot better once your twenties roll around, but you do have a pretty great college'hood. Cheers little lady, and hold on.... you're in for a wild ride!

I just can't....

And today, for your viewing pleasure, I bring to you a compilation of things that I literally can't even...  (accompanied by an unrelated, yet surprisingly fitting photo) 

-Crock pot meals. If I wanted all my food to share the exact same texture I'd just throw it into a blender. Gag me.

-Tinder. Do you smell the desperation? It seems to be wafting. Spare me, I know you 'JUST DO IT CAUSE ITS SO FUNNY'. I don't buy it.

-Prepackaged cheese slices (I'm lookin at you Kraft). Velvetta as well. Ew. Actually most yellow cheeses kind of weird me out... cheese is made from dairy, and dairy is white

-Food scented candles or body washes/lotions. I don't want my house or myself to smell like a perky peach, or a snickerdoodle. People like to eat perky peaches and snickerdoodles, please don't eat me. (bath salts are a problem enough, I'm not into tempting ravenous druggies even more)

-Paper plates (apparently I've got a chip on my shoulder regarding the kitchen). Unless I am sitting in a lawn chair on a grassy knoll and there is a hot dog making its way from the grill grates to my mouth, use a real plate. We are not in college anymore.


-Palazzo pants. Stop glorifying patterned gauchos. I don't care if they feel like  you're wearing pajamas. My yoga pants feel like I'm wearing pajamas, but that doesn't mean I should wear those in public either.

-People who text you asking how you are, and let the conversation die. What is the point? Did you just get a desperate urge to know that I am at work, and doing well? Did that satisfy your craving? Ok, catch up with you again in a week!

-Coors Light. Just, Coors Light.

-And flip-flops. My god could they MAKE a more obnoxious shoe? I can't even formulate an onomatopoeia for that sound, it's so annoying. Threwp... threwp... threwp...

-Bae. What is that? The sound a goat makes?

I should just stop now. I'm curious to know what everyone else Can't Even today!? I can't be alone here...

Floatin.

Saturday morning we drove up to the north side of Indy to do a little river tubing. 

In all honesty, rivers gross me out. Most lakes do as well. I have minimal appreciation for bodies of water that aren't clear enough to see my feet.... And that lack sand.... And no one even brings you fruity little drinks with umbrellas... 

Anyways we threw down $15 a person to get a big, fancy, backrest-included tube, and hopped aboard a tiny party bus with approximately 79 other people who had the same idea as us. 

It was somewhere around 1pm when we dropped in the river, for an anticipated 2-3 hour float downstream. 

 

The funny thing is, 4 1/2 hours later, we were still floating. Clearly the current realized we needed a little more time to chill and decided to be nonexistent that day. It was all fun and games until about that 3 hour mark when we realized not only were we well on our way to drunk, but we were also well on our way to starving.

On the plus side, Indy is in the middle of a polar vortex of some sort, so what would normally be a 90somethin, full sun July afternoon was only about a high70somethin overcast day and we were all spared of lobster bellies and extreme dehydration. 

I'd chalk it up as another successful Saturday in the books. 

Wednesday Confessions

I'm really struggling to get back into the swing of things after a week in the islands.

It didn't help that as soon as I was back in the homeland I learned that my grandpa had been in the hospital since midweek. While I understand the reason no one reached out to us (as there truly was nothing we could have done) it's still a bitter pill to swallow that you're gallivanting around getting drunk on a beach having a blast while he has been in a hospital bed suffering.

On the plus side, as we round out a week of him in the hospital things are improving. And (fingers crossed) they might be ruling out surgery and sending him home soon. Feel free to send good juju.

Since today is apparently on the upward swing, I found out this morning I won a little contest at work. I'm more excited about the recognition and bragging rights, but the gift card is also a nice little added bonus.

On that note, I think I'm certifiably one of those "I love my job" people. Are those people annoying? I try not to shout it from the rooftops much, but I truly do enjoy coming into the house of booze & doing what I do every day. 

Feel free to gag.

I caught up with the Jamaican hubs last week, and was gifted a new wedding ring after I accidentally broke my first one. What a good man he is. 3.5 years later and he still puts up with me. 

Oh and I really, really love Jamaica. After 8 trips down there I still really love it. A lot. Pink puffy heart style. Can I go back now? 

This isn't really a confessions post anymore, instead just a blab fest. Hey, it's been a while!

I'm hosting a dinner party for all my girlfriends tomorrow, to kick off my patio... the terrible story of THAT mess hasn't debuted on the blog yet, but lemme tell you... this patio has been a labor of love. And it deserves a party just to break it in! 

I better actually go do some real work, before they decide to take my contest award away. 

English as a second language.

Saturday night a few girlfriends and I were sitting on the patio of one of our favorite bars having a couple drinks people watching. We lucked into a prime real estate facing the sidewalk, and were enjoying the sights and sounds of the stragglers the Pride parade earlier that day had left behind. 

The only problem was that one of our newly single girlfriends kept getting confused between "people watching" and "people staying", and we kept ending up with, well lets just call them 'new friends' who hung around to chat. 

A few of these happened to be from Peru. With the promise of salsa dancing lessons, I exchanged numbers with one of them and forgot about it. Three days later I was awoken to my phone vibrating with texts... 

At first I couldn't figure out if it was a drunk friend or a foreigner.  Once I did I cringed at the fact we had exchanged numbers, and went back to bed.

The struggle is real, my friends. I think I'll chalk that up as a "whoopsy daisy", and rely on Arthur Murray to learn how to Cha Cha instead. 

myth vs reality.

Every year in Indy we host an event that causes hundreds of women to flock to our city center, perked, plumped & ready to mingle....

The Firefighters Convention. 

Thousands of firefighters venture to our great city for a weekend of... well, really, hell if I know... conventioning. 

I know what you're thinking... 

(image source)

So my girlfriends and I headed downtown on Friday night for tapas, cocktails, and debauchery. After a homeless man hobbled into the restaurant, plopped himself down on a barstool right next to our table and passed out/died (? who really knows), we weren't sure how the rest of the night was going to unfold. However a few of the paramedics who rushed to his aid weren't bad eye-candy so we couldn't be all that mad. 

Sadly, as the night progressed we realized there was not a single oiled up man in sight. No eight-packs, no bare chests, no shirtless, suspendered men saving kittens.

All we got was a group of hicks from North Carolina who swarmed our patio table telling us they "saw all us ladies long hairs and just had to stop and say hi" in the slowest southern drawl I've ever heard. 

You win some, you lose some. 

Hop on my back, she said... it's a great idea, she said

They say a picture's worth a thousand words... so I'll just leave this sequence below for your enjoyment

Friday night we went out to the local beer garden to celebrate one of my best friend's birthdays. Suddenly, being the gal who never passes up a piggy back ride turned into my demise. The bruises don't look nearly as cute as the photo of us laughing hysterically above.

Things I believe.

I believe in serendipity.

I believe that cuss-words are the statement necklaces of the English language

I believe that Snapchat Stories are going to be everyone's biggest regret on their deathbed.

I believe their is a third tier in hell for websites that have videos that automatically start. 

I believe you can always earn more money, but you can't earn more time.

I believe in faking it til you make it. 

I believe your shoes should never match your shirt. Coordinate, yes. Match, no. Unless we're talking all black err'thing.

I believe that only boring people get bored.

I believe that friends who offer to show up in a bear suit with vodka at the doctors office to keep you company are the best kind to have. 

I believe in telling someone when they have shit in their teeth. Or a booger hanging out. Or TP on their shoe. 

I believe that wearing nothing but flats is wasting your womanhood.

I believe that a mason jar full of change is the secret window to adventures.

I believe alcohol will never solve any problem at hand, but it's sure to make the process more fun.

I believe in forgiving but not forgetting. And never burning bridges.

I believe in getting hurt. I believe in hitting rock bottom. I believe in standing back up.

I believe in the power of putting good juju into the world.

What do you believe in? 

I'm the kinda girl...

I'm the kinda girl who will always respond that "I'm fine", mostly because whatever issues I'm dealing with pale in comparison to what I see others going through.

I'm the kinda girl who would rather be 20 minutes late to work than wearing something I hate. I just can't do it. I can't go on to have any sort of productive day if I'm constantly looking down disappointed at what I have on.

I'm the kinda girl who will buy 10 pairs of shoes on one shopping trip, but put off buying a nude colored bra for 18 months. (It's just so... boring. But neon pink or cobalt blue showing through all my white shirts is a tad tacky)

I'm the kinda girl who will sleep in hoodies and sweatpants so I can bump my thermostat way down all winter long. That money I don't spend on utilities translates into more vacations and traveling!

I'm the kinda girl who struggles to justify spending $500 on a weekend trip, when I can spend $750 on a whole week.

I'm the kinda girl who (gasp) doesn't really like all my food (or really any, for that matter) smothered in cheese.

I'm the kinda girl who is too stubborn to ask for help, and often to prideful to admit I needed it... but often beyond grateful for that saving grace who steps up and unknowingly offers it.

I'm the kinda girl who sleeps with a Louisville Slugger next to her bed. Hey, I live alone. Rather be safe than sorry. Miss Underwood also gave me some good tips on other uses for it.

I'm the kinda girl who will jump off a rocky cliff into the ocean on a whim, but spend 20 minutes in the soap aisle debating between Amber and Cedarwood

I'm the kinda girl who will make double the scrambled eggs, and open two things of yogurt, and have breakfast put my pup on the living room floor on Saturday mornings

I'm the kinda girl who who got unreasonably excited about the dry erase board 12pack of Expos I just ordered for my office.

I'm the kinda girl who will bake a double batch of cupcakes on whim because I just had an urge. And then give them all away because I think cupcakes are disgusting.

(my homegirl Holly started this whole idea, so go blame her. Or don't. Or join in. That's fine too.)
 

#100happydays

I have seen the hashtag #100happydays bouncing around Instagram for a while now, and finally decided to find out what it was all about this morning.

What I stumbled upon was an awesome movement.

We live in times when super-busy schedules have become something to boast about. While the speed of life increases, there is less and less time to enjoy the moment that you are in. The ability to appreciate the moment, the environment and yourself in it, isthe base for the bridge towards long term happiness of any human being.

71% of people tried to complete this challenge, but failed quoting lack of time as the main reason.These people simpy did not have time to be happy. Do you? 

Starting today, I'm tackling this challenge.  On instagram, that is. Care to join me? I've decided to create my own hashtag so that I can look back solely on my photos. Today begins #HMCHappyHundred , I am already anticipating May 24th so I can look back on 100 days of happy!

 

Snoots.

These days, I hit up Starbucks on one of two occasions:
1) if someone has given me a gift card, or 2) if someone else is buying.

Being that my 21st* birthday was Sunday, of course I'm armed with gift cards. (*how long can I keep this 21st birthday facade going? I wish I blogged on a graphic calculator, so I could literally type 21^5... actually I don't even think that's the proper mathology, but then again I did drop out of calculus as soon as I got my acceptance letter to art school. And I'm rambling.)

Tangent.

I swung into Starbucks yesterday after leaving work, I had somewhere to be and by some miracle of God I was running slightly early. After scoffing at the pumpkin spice littered menu, I struggled to decide what I want.

I'm probably the cheese standing alone when I say this... but 'bucks just makes their flavored coffees too damn sweet for me. And I'm not about to be THAT girl with 37 cliff notes to my order because I'm not a fan of drinking spit-in coffee, and we all know that's what 'only one-third of a lump of sugar, 135degrees, steamed soy milk" leads to.

I finally settled with a good ol' large iced green tea.

To which I was corrected that I wanted a "VENTI".

Out of habit I rolled my eyes, and this ensued:
"Dude... did you know what I meant when I said large?"
"Well, of course but it is referred to as a venti here"
"But you knew when I said large which cup size I was referencing?"
"....yes ma'am"
"...then don't be an asshole."


I pulled around to the window, handed him my gift card as he delicately Bieber-flipped his blond locks, and handed me my LARGE iced green tea.

And I drove on down the road enjoying my spit-filled tea. I don't even know how you "regulars" deal with this daily
 

On being That Girl.

2012.

2013. 

I noticed something while deleting photos the other day. The Zippo Lighter app still proves to be the MVP on my iPhone.

And maybe I owe an apology to my friends, for always being THAT person who insists on whipping out my lighter at every concert.

    

The time I was gifted two kegs.

Let's say a friend of a friend of yours is pretty well off. Really well off. Like, in a 'I run a country' well off.

And this friend comes in town over Labor Day weekend, so your friend orders a keg of his favorite beer to have in his hotel room while he is here.

Of course, he had already planned ahead and had his own means of libating (is that a word? It is now. Chelsea definition: drinking)

And so at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon you get this text:

(insert salsa dancing iPhone emoji here, because I probably did that little shuffle across my kitchen when I read the text)

Well... this was my life Labor Day weekend. I may have done the dance again when I go to pick it up and it's not one keg, but two kegs of Pacifico.

Conveniently, my mama's 21st birthday* is the last day of August. Birthing a child on Labor Day weekend? Genius. Who doesn't want 3day celebrations for the rest of their life?

We had a big cookout shebang at their place Saturday night. Of course, I pulled the best daughter EVER card and make her entire party incredibly well hydrated.

Killed one of two that night. Movin right along! Loaded up and took the other to a pool party the next day with a very firm "no one is leaving until this keg is floating". A full day of sun and beer lead to a lot of other shenanigans.

To say anyone made it past 10pm that night would be a flat.out.lie.

Dear friend of a friend, thank you very much for helping us to celebrate our labors, it was very much appreciated. 

*Yes, my mother turned 21. Again. She has turned 21 every year since her coughcough 50th birthday.
 

It's in my blood.

Look.... I'm not saying I was born cool, but I was definitely bred to have a good time.

One of the things I most vividly remember from my childhood was my parents ALWAYS having people over. Like every weekend. You can play any given rock song from the 80s and I'll be transported back. It's like clockwork, every time Steve Miller Band comes on the radio I suddenly feel like I'm 6 years old again, running around our living room hands smashing my ears because the speakers are turned up so loud, every window in the house open and a deck full of people.

The truth is, not much has changed. My parents and their friends are always causing some sort of trouble, nowadays I just join in.

(my dad ruins every photo like it's his job)

 A few Fridays ago, as I'm shuttin down shop at the house of booze I get a text from my mama informing me of a pool party/cookout at some family friends of ours. So I head home, throw on my swimsuit and prep for a good time.

Like most of their gatherings the flippy cup table graced us with it's presence and things got a little heated. Have no fear, I still hold my reining title.

   

Puphawk.

I figured since Russell enjoyed expressing his creative side so frequently these days, it was only fitting he had a haircut to match.

[before]

 [after]

Thus the puphawk was born.

And he's a lot less of an ass now. Imagine that.

Otherside-of-the-worlders.

Our Aussie trip is sneaking up at some sort of supersonic hyper-speed that I'm not really sure I'm OK with (Where did summer go? Is it really July already?! How will I ever survive a 14-hour flight!??!)

Much to my delight a good majority of my June was filled with new compadres from the Southern Hemisphere.

You see, racers apparently don't solely exist in the states. Shocker, I know. And sometimes, SOMETIMES, racers come stay with other racers. Whoa. So imagine our excitement when one Friday night we meet up with some friends at a bar and all the sudden some outback accents pops out of the tall kid on the opposite side of the table. Mind. Blown. 

I'm pretty sure my exact quote was "Michelle... did you hear that??"

Needless to say, a whole lotta bbq cookout Fireball-fest shenanigans went down last month. When they finally boarded their plane to go back to the motherland our livers sighed in relief.

I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about down-under slang, the deadly creatures of the outback, how Alice Springs Chicken is a joke, how expensive everything is in Aussieland, and most importantly, how much those damn natives love to drink.

See you on the flipside in a few months, fellas.