My home away from home

In true Chelsea fashion, I ended up at my home away from home yet again this past weekend.

You see, for the better part of last week I wanted to die every time I ate. My stomach would just go wack and hurt so.damn.bad. Naturally, I threw back some tums and sucked it up. As I'd be clutching a pillow to my gut, tightly curled up in the fetal position.

On Friday I thought maybe it was alcohol causing it, so I decided not to drink all weekend. And I still wanted to die. But the pain would fade every time, and being the stubborn little lady I am - I kept on truckin' without much of a second thought.

Saturday morning my friend picked me up and we headed out to the track to enjoy a little pre-Brickyard fun. We grabbed breakfast on the way, and walked over to the track. Stupid Move #1: I ducked into the gas station to grab some pills because my stomach hurt so bad I was struggling to walk. I figured if I took some antacids it would ease up.

We proceeded to get our pit passes, and head into the track. As we're standing there talking to a car owner I'm eyeing my surroundings trying to spot the nearest restroom. I duck out, nearly at a run, and start dry heaving as soon as I lock myself into the stall.

A good thirty or so minutes later, after I've puked every ounce of ANYTHING out of my body, I still have the most excruciating pain in my abdomen. I regain as much composure as I can, and go back to find my friend. It doesn't take long before he tells me he's taking me home and we trek back to his truck.

The thing is, I couldn't even walk. I literally sat on a curb and waited for him to go get the truck come pick me up.

I got home and resumed the fetal position on my couch. Except it wasn't easing up, if anything it was getting worse. I finally threw the white flag and called my dad and asked him to come get me. And he ushered me off to those all too familiar emergency room doors at the nearest hospital.

An IV, some pain meds, a bazillion labs later, they tell me that the only thing that didn't look normal were my slightly elevated white blood cell levels. They tried to toss it aside as nothing, really, handed me three prescriptions (for nausea, an antacid, and a pain pill) and sent me on my way.

Something just doesn't quite add up for me, and some friends have given insight. Fingers are being pointed at ulcers, gallbladders and pancreases. I really don't know... I do know, however, that I'm hoping that was the last time I don that gown this year.

(Updated:  Lo & behold... glug goes the ol' gallbladder )



Could it be?

Is it just me... or is this little skittle sporting some peach fuzz on top of that cute lil noggin of hers?



twist off, sip a little, pass it around

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that we would be taking the Bustache to Luke Bryan again this year.

Sure, I had already seen this concert once this year... every thing is always better the second time around though, isn't it? I still can't decide if I love Florida-Georgia Line or Luke Bryan more. I suppose I can spread my love three ways though.

So Sunday afternoon thirteen of us climbed aboard for our 'stache ride. And boy what a ride it was.

With three full coolers it didn't take long for it to become one heck of a good time! Our driver, Rico, turned the tunes up and we headed on down the highway.

Fireball, moonshine and Loopy were all being passed around.

What do you even say after that? I feel like the pictures speak more than I ever could.

And the best photo of the entire night.... because if you ask the beer guy if you can stick your head in his cart to cool off, he is surprisingly TOTALLY cool with it



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.




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


Thus the puphawk was born.

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



Vegas Bound: Round 3

The last time I trekked out to Vegas it was compliments of a long lost friend's generosity. And very last minute (although not QUITE as spontaneous as that one California trip...)

(My hair was not even to my shoulders. That's how long ago it was that I was in Vegas.2011)

Back to the story at hand... quick recap. Best friend lives in Vegas. Haven't seen best friend since like August, if you discount the one dinner we grabbed in May when she was in town for her sisters graduation.

I'm flying out tomorrow to spend a quick weekend with her. It's bound to be the shortest 3 days in existence, but at least it will get us in the same state even if for a brief stint. We seem to pull in some sort of supernatural luck when we hit the roulette tables together - here's to hoping mama brings home the bacon!

I foresee a whole lotta gossiping, gambling, pool time and streetside cocktails. Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Best Friends


Goggles: the sequel

2013 turned me blind. Actually 2012 turned me blind, I was just too stubborn to accept it, and put off getting glasses until the wee months of '13.

Surprisingly, most of the time when someone sees a photo of me dawning glasses they tell me how much they love em! The original glasses I had were fine, minus the fact I had dropped them a few times and scratched them all up (wait? I was supposed to be responsible and take care of them?) so you can probably imagine my geeky excitement when someone from Firmoo reached out asking if I'd be interested in reviewing a pair of their goggles.

See, the cool thing about Firmoo is that they offer you your first pair free. Which means if you're any bit as indecisive as me, and desperately want options, you can add a pair of glasses to your collection for zero bones. On top of that they give away a free pair every day, with the Lucky Draw feature! (It's like the gift that keeps on giving!)

Since I can't ever settle on just one I actually ended up ordering the same glasses in tortoise and black. Girls gotta have options, never know what will match which outfit! They arrived in about a week, with cases and cleaning clothes and haven't left my face since then.

Where have my glasses gone?

Well, they keep me company every day in the office...

they've conquered downtown Indianapolis...

they even ventured to the hospital with me when my lung popped....

Heck, that's more than I can say about my ex-boyfriend! Needless to say, these glasses are my new best compadre, I make sure to never leave home without them!

I used the virtual try-on system to pick mine out, and then jumped the gun and ordered. Have no fear though, if you end up not absolutely loving yours though, they do have a great return policy! If you've been on the prowl for some new frames to grace your face I would definitely recommend Firmoo!

(I was offered glasses to review from Firmoo, however all opinions are my own! I wouldn't steer ya'll wrong)




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.


Soggy in the Southeast

I'm forever thankful for the kind of girlfriends you can call up and say "hey, get in the shower and meet me in an hour for a little field trip".

Yesterday afternoon we piled into the car with two of my favorite fellas and headed down I-74 to Cincinnati for the second time this month, this time for my first ever Reds game. Once we got into town I called up my little Cincy native and had her meet us at the ballpark to join in on the shenanigans!

Our friend happened upon the tickets, and for fear of ever missing out on a good time I of course agreed to tag along for the fun. Despite the fact it was 2 hours away, a night game, and a Monday night.

A downpour started somewhere around the 6th inning, the game ended up getting rained out, we annihilated some chili cheese dogs, went on a mini shopping spree, and eventually decided to brave the monsoon rains and mosey on down to Tin Roof.

It's always the most random nights that garner the laughs, and logging a few hours with this crew had my abs burning for sure.

Finally I rallied up the rain-soaked gang and herded em on home across the Indiana state line in the wee hours of the morning. Hey someone had to be the responsible one!