A post that says so little, yet so much

So...

I may or may not be dating someone now.

And he may or may not be amazingly amazing.

And I may or may not be having the most crazy busy month of my life, yet exist in complete bliss.

And he may or may not be the reason.

And he may or may not know I have a blog. (I'm banking on the "may not" of this one)

I love the phrase "may or may not" because it is entirely void of meaning. Or is it...?

Tu me manques

I have been on campus an average of 13 hours every day this week. This, combined with the busy schedule of Alexis means the only time I have actually seen her has been when she wakes me up by turning on the bathroom light in the morning (to get ready for her class at the ungodly hour of 7:00 am) and she apologizes and I say it's ok and go back to sleep. I think it's interesting that we learn to love and appreciate things most when we don't have them. Lexi, I miss you and I'm glad we are friends.

Daydreams

I have this reoccurring dream. It just keeps coming back and I can't help it; it's entirely out of my control. In the most opportune moments I awake and realize that I have been lost in this same dream yet again. I also realize that, indeed, I haven't even been asleep. It is, in fact, a day dream. This world where my mind wanders so often is difficult to describe, and I'm not even going to try. But I will share with you this picture, and that will just have to suffice.

Oh Europe. How I miss you.

Memories.

Remember this?

Well I got the scholarship. In case you were wondering :)

The Wonders of NH3

One time at work we had to test some containers to see if the coating on the inside would absorb ammonia. To do this, we put some ammonium hydroxide in the container and looked at the gas analyzer to see how quickly the levels of ammonia went back to being normal. We did this in the growth chambers in the Widtsoe Building on campus. By the time we took the lid off the ammonia hydroxide, put one drop in the container with an eye dropper and closed the bottle, the room was filled with the suffocating smell of ammonia. We ran out of the room as fast as we could.

I don't know why I didn't think about this experience as I stood in front of the different types of anti-itch stuff. There were various chemicals made for rubbing on your skin. I saw one that was liquid, whose application was the only one that did not include getting it all over your fingers. Since I was buying this at the BYU bookstore and planned to be putting this stuff all over my legs for the next couple of days, I figured this would be the best choice. After receiving about 20 mosquito bites Sunday night, my focus was only on getting relief as quickly as possible, so I spent very little time contemplating the exact contents of these products. As I ripped open the little box and began to rub it over the red welts, the previous experience rushed to my mind as the fumes of ammonia, which turns out to be the active ingredient of this product, reached my olfactory receptors.

It is for this reason I am walking around reeking of ammonia. So much for getting a date the first week of school...

A New Year

I think I have mentioned this before, but I believe the beginning of a new school year is more deserving of a New Year celebration party than December 31. The days go from frenzied and random to scheduled and organized, the season changes from Summer to Autumn, everyone is moving and changing apartments; the air is just filled with new and exciting experiences just waiting to be had. With this spirit of new things, I even changed my blog. I hope you like it.

And, of course, as with all New Years, I have some resolutions.

1. First of all, I am going to try harder to date. I know, I know. Gross. SUPER GROSS. But it must be done. I can't live my life thinking I never really tried. So I'm going to try for a little while and then give up forever and just further my career. Which leads me to number 2.
2. Decide my career. Or not even that. Just decide what I'm going to do after I graduate. I can get a job, which would require me to decide what job I want, then try to get it. Or I could go to graduate school, which would require me to decide where to go and what to do for research, and what job to get after I graduate with my masters. Current status: no idea.
3. Keep my room clean. So far this summer, my room has been more often messy than clean. It's been pretty bad; even for me. So from now on it must be clean.
4. Keep up with homework. Ideally I will be able to get it done nightly, but that may not be the case, and in fact, it probably will not happen. But I can try, right?
5. Make new friends. Too often I get comfortable with where I am that I don't try to reach out and form new friendships. It's been "Lexi and Chelsea: Against the World" for so long that I have little reason to become more than just acquaintances with other people.
6. Work out at least 3 times every week. After 30 Days of Madness, in which Lexi and I exercised every day for 30 days, I should be able to handle three days a week.

I think that should do it. I don't want to overwhelm myself on the first day.

"I'd Rather Be In Idaho Than Any Other Place I Know...

... Ida - Ida - Ho! Ida - Ida - Ho! Hey!"

I have been home for less than 24 hours and I have been to concerts, gone to the Western Idaho State Fair, eaten at the fair, soaked in the hot tub, sat in the massage chair, gone golfing, driven the new scooter and am now on my way to go boating.

All with my... parents?

Yup.

Welcome to my life.

Abuse Report

I've recently been noticing that people abuse their ability to update their statuses (stati?) on Facebook. Really, there are all kinds of abuses that could be reported:

• People who update their status 500 times each day.
• People who write nothing but menial things of little to no value.
• People who write nothing but inspirational quotes.
• People who write nothing but inside jokes.

Here's the one that worries me the most:

People who write only about how they are depressed. For example:

• "Tryin real hard to keep it all together.... truely hoping to come out ontop of this."
• "I cant take this.... I cant do this...."
• "I really wish you werent so selfish all the time. I came home for you. I am still home for you. This is dumb."
• "Maybe someday you'll see everything I am.... see everything I have...."

First of all, if this person was just blowing off steam, I might suggest a less public form of therapy. Like a journal or something. Second, I must ask: does this person actually require aid of some sort? Which brings into question the legitimacy of our Facebook friendship. Is it my responsibility to provide that aid? I mean, technically we are friends, but are we really friends? This snowballs into a huge paradoxical crucible - the kind that leaves you more confused than before you had started thinking about it and you have to stop thinking about it because your brain is beginning to hurt. Ok, maybe not. But it is because of this reason, or perhaps a less exaggerated form of this reason, that I leave these, my quasi friends, to the care of their other Facebook friends.

And then I write about it on my blog.

The Winning Catch

Last weekend I went to California with some friends from High School. We went to the US Open of Surf, Coastal Carnage (skateboarding and BMX competitions), and a Weezer concert on the beach for free! It was totally awesome. While at the Weezer concert people were throwing water bottles across the crowd, as they usually do. This is not one of my favorite aspects of a concert, but whatever. As I was rocking out, I noticed a Gatorade bottle hurling towards my head. Here's where it gets intense:

I raised my hand in the air to catch it.

It spins around so that it Gatorade splashes in my face

I am forced to close my eyes.

My hand closed around the bottle, right-side up.

People cheered for me and I raised the bottle up victoriously and the crowd went wild. I'm surprised the camera man didn't get it on tape. But luckily I had my friend, Brian, take this picture with me and the infamous Gatorade bottle.

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night!

I was just on Facebook and I decided to see if there was anyone I wanted to speak with on chat. (Unfortunately it seems I try to avoid more people than I try to talk to.) After clicking on the little box on the bottom of the screen, I was informed that there were only three people online. I thought, "How can there only be three people online?!"

Then I realized it is Saturday night. Most people do things other than Facebook on Saturday night.

Most people...

The Best Decision Ever Made.

Lately I've been feeling old. I woke up this morning with my leg hurting to high heaven (I've never used this expression before, so I hope I did it correctly). In addition to this, I have been getting sleepy earlier and earlier. For example, it is now 9:41 and I plan on going to bed as soon as I write this. So, to remedy this small life crisis, I did a little therapeutic shopping. You may be wondering what exactly I bought. Don't worry, this did not include a trip to Nordstrom or anywhere near the mall, really. I went to Smith's. Partially because I needed groceries; partially because I wanted this:

Let me tell you a little story about Cocoa Puffs and me. When I was little I always asked if we could buy them and I was always answered with, "No one likes them but you." I always had to wait for a camping trip or some other event that would require my family to buy this. Then, and only then, could I taste the wonderfully sugar-high educing, chocolate milk making, sorry excuse for a food item that is Cocoa Puffs. After growing up with a Cocoa Puff-deprived childhood one of my first purchases as an independent college student was a box of Cocoa Puffs. That was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

As I drove home in my car eating the Cocoa Puffs that I had just bought, from the box that I had savagely opened while walking out of the store, I felt again the satisfaction of having made a good decision. One of the best, in fact.

Work

Today I am at work. In the soils lab. I've decided that our slogan should be:

The BYU Soils Lab: where we grow grass and weed and grind all day.

Just throwing it out there...

A Brush With Death

My horse's name is Abigail. She is part thoroughbred, part quarter horse, and part Satan. Her redeeming quality is that she is fast. Very fast. On the opposite side of the spectrum, Mr. T, the horse my mom usually rides, is the sweetest most kind horse ever to exist; but he's still pretty young and not as seasoned as Abby. When I came home for summer, my mom and I decided to switch horses since she had been riding Abby and since I was only going to be there a short while, it would be more enjoyable to ride Mr. T..

We entered a barrel racing competition one weekend and I drew last. They had watered the indoor arena down so it wouldn't be super dusty, but they watered it too much which made the ground hard to run on and by the time it was my turn to go, the ground was looking pretty bad. I ran to the first barrel and right before I turned Mr. T tripped. I could feel his feet fighting to gain back balance but it never came. I was hurling forward towards the ground and I thought, " He's not coming out of this. I need to bail... now." I was almost level to the ground when I let go of the reins and put my hands out to catch myself. Praying that my feet would come out of the stirrups, I landed on all fours and crawled to the fence, afraid that in his attempt to get up I would get kicked in the head. I looked back and could see his body folded over his neck and I gave up hope of him being alive by the time I stood up. But he was. As I rose and turned around he had just gotten up and was shaking his head. I could hear Amy, the announcer, ask if I was okay and I nodded towards the stand. I slowly made my way to him, clasped the reins, and stroked his neck. By the time I stood up, my dad had jumped the fence into the arena, ran across, and was by my side when I got to Mr. T., my mom following right behind him. After making sure I was alright, my parents made turned their attention to Mr. T., just standing there quietly. He seemed okay, so we all walked out of the arena together among applause from the crowd. At the trailer we gave him some Bute, a rub down with cool pack, and walked him around outside for a while. He acted as if nothing happened. Friends and a lot of people we didn't know came over to see if we were okay and to congratulate me on being alive. A fact that I was grateful for. My favorite quote from my mother during this whole ordeal: "...and you didn't even cry!"

Here's a link to the first barrel photo. We haven't decided yet if we want to buy one.

My Name Is Chelsea, And I'm A Mac

Today is the day I became a Mac. That's right. In case you didn't notice in the little bulleted list of things I did during my absence, my computer broke but I never bought a new one. Until today. And what did I buy? A MacBook Pro. It is fantastic. Granted, I've only had it for half of a day, but still. I love it. It's so sleek and cool and even better: it makes me sleek and cool, too! I don't know how it does it.

Anyways, that is all.

Back From the Dead

In case you haven't noticed, this blog has been void of new posts since St. Patrick's Day. Sorry about that. It would take too long to tell all the things I've done between then and now, so a short billeted list will have to suffice.

• Secured a job for summer semester - Thank you Dr. Hopkins!
  
• Finals - went well
• Computer broke during finals - not optimal
  
• Moved back to Idaho - living in paradise
  
• Went to North Carolina - my nephew is so cute!
  
• Went to Hawaii - I thought Idaho was paradise...
  
• Came back to Provo - so far so good

So that's pretty much it. I'll post pictures sometime. Maybe.

As of late I devote the majority of my time working. I work on the 2nd floor of the Widtsoe building. It's pretty legit to say the least. My top three favorite things are:

1. I get to wear a lab coat every day. (except for when we do field work outside, which is even better than the coat)
2. All the doors have keypads that unlock only after entering the secret password. And I can unlock all of them. And I do it nonchalantly, despite the fact that really I am celebrating a private victory inside.
3. All the people I work with are awesome to say the least. This makes my job especially fun.
   

My daily tasks vary depending on what needs to be done. It's always changing. Some days we go out to the farm and do field work, sometimes I do experiments in the lab, sometimes I'm a secretary; sometimes a maid; sometimes a TA. Right now I'm analyzing nitrous oxide samples with the Gas Chromatograph. Say that five times fast. Actually, I just did and it wasn't that hard...

Basically my job is a lot of hard work, but it's super fun. And I am just happy to have it :)

Happy St. Patrick's Day

A video to commemorate the glorious day of St. Patrick.

Sorry I haven't written is such a long time, but I will catch you up.

Someday.

For Reasons Unknown

Right now I'm supposed to be filling out the reasons BYU should give me money to go to their school. Right now I'm supposed to have reasons BYU should give me money to go to their school. The allocation of the money from the Department of Plant and Wildlife Sciences is determined on the following things:

• GPA... Not great
• Need... My parents pay for my schooling
  
• Professional goals... TBA
  
• Activities utilizing your major... Backpacking across Europe?
  
• Leadership/extracurricular activities... Activities Co-chair?
  
• Extenuating circumstances... I've got to have some kind of emotional damage
  
• Two letters of recommendation... Luckily my professors like me. I hope.
  

We'll see how this goes...

What's Up?

I hate the phrase "What's up?" Every time this phrase is said in passing it's awkward. Let's just face it: Nothing is ever up. Ok? The only acceptable variation of "what's up?" is "WAZZUP!" from this video:

The topic of this post comes from an encounter I had today in which a guy from my biology class last semester passed me on campus and after he said "what's up?" I replied, cooly, "Mmmmmmnothing..." It was awkward.

The video comes from fond childhood memories of my friend Kristen and me saying, "WAZZUP?!" all the time after we saw it.