freewriting

here i am again at my desk as the intern. the novelty of working in an office has worn off, but at least the fun of dressing up is still every bit as fun. except for these past weeks that i've been dogsitting - cleaning up dog crap in a dress before work is not fun. (scratch that, cleaning up dog crap is never fun ... no inside pets for me.)

i've taken to throwing on my sneakers to run around with the dog in my dress each morning - a positively stylish combination but altogether necessary because the dog is irritatingly affectionate and needs me by its side. it's always rubbing up against me. on car rides (i do like to take the dog for hikes) i get so drenched in slobber that i just embrace it, believe it or not. my mom came with me to pick blueberries one night and the dog was all up in my space and i said - "see mom, this is why i have never been an animal lover! i need my personal space! and animals don't care about that! ughhh!" she said, "hey you're the one who's always saying 'i just wish i had a dog to snuggle with ..." "okay i know i say that, but i only want it to be on my terms ..." (hahaha story of my selfish life, Lord have mercy) this dog doesn't understand my terms.

i also need to be wearing the sneakers to kick the cats away. i just do not like cats. it was my understanding that these cats were half wild and wouldn't require attention, but as soon as i pulled into this house they were all up in my space too, like i was a freaking catnip bush or dead mouse or whatever cats are attracted to.

but that's housesitting and it ends today (hallelujah!) while interning lasts another month. i'm writing a few articles and needed to take a break from all that methodical writing and channeled thinking for some freewriting. five minutes of freewriting i told myself, and i decided it's going to be about a ridiculous five minute incident from yesterday ...

i was humming along to this song at the gym yesterday,"you've got such a pretty smile, it's a shame the things you hide behind it ...", feeling depressed like the song intends and apparently lost in thought too, because when i went to sit down on the rowing machine i FELL OFF. not in one slick motion but SEVERAL as i tried to get my butt back on the moving seat. anyone else probably could've used their hands to catch themselves but these hands were busy guzzling water from a waterbottle, and i proceeded to spit all of that water everywhere (my shirt, the floor, so ladylike) as i started laughing out loud at myself. a slightly embarassing scene considering the cute gym boys were right next to me cleaning off the cardio machines. actually they're not even cute, but even though i've gone to that gym three years now i'm still incredibly awkward around them. i refuse to take the blame for all of the awkwardness though, because i'm always perfectly pleasant with a big smile and "hi/hey/hello" when i walk in, only to be grunted at?! sometimes a head nod or mumbled hello, but really boys? you're getting paid to stand at a desk, at least fake a smile and make some eye contact. but maybe they shouldn't, or they'll soon be faking smiles a lot and humming along to songs and hurting themselves on rowing machines ... hmm.

nixiness

i made a joke about walking my friends dog down the aisle at her wedding, and because i make all sorts of offhand comments and jokes, didn't think anything of it. that is until she called me later that evening and told me she would seriously love if i did that, because it would be hilarious. i said no way jose, and tried to persuade her that wedding ceremonies aren't meant to be hilarious. she told me i should pray about it. let's just say the only prayer i offered up on the matter was "dear GOD don't let her be serious ..." and He was faithful to answer, because thankfully she asked me to read scripture instead. now i am praying that i will not laugh WHILE i'm reading, because one look at the bride and i could lose it. we have a long history of hysterical fits of laughter together, as if my personal track record wasn't enough.

my face is full of nixiness (in the picture below) as i hold in my laughter at the last wedding i read scripture in. i might as well make it my new thing. since i hate when people ask, "so what are your hobbies?" frick if i have hobbies?! i go to school and i work. i don't have money for cool hobbies and i don't have interest in lame hobbies ... but in what spare time remains i do manage to give a mean scripture reading at weddings. (and come to think of it, attending weddings might as well be a hobby of mine too.)

"20 bucks, First Corinthians."

"Double or nothing, Colossians 3:12. "

"And now a reading from Paul's first letter to the Corinthians ..." [Wedding Crashers]

lessons from dad

i laughed out loud until the guy next to me asked me what book i was reading at barnes and noble. it was "sh*t my dad says" and as much as i enjoyed it, i couldn't help being disappointed in myself for not thinking of publishing what MY dad says for some extra bucks. but i think i'm going to start writing down my conversations with my dad just for my own entertainment. he says more funny stuff than i can keep track of, but here's a few life lessons from dinner with my dad this weekend ...

on self-esteem:
"oh no chelsea, oh no, i don't think you should ride on motorcycles. cause then i'm gonna have to find your body under some bridge or you're gonna get all burned up and..." (i mean the way he talks about things like this, it is a miracle in and of itself that i do not live everyday in binding fear, sheesh.)
"oh dad, that's not gonna happen. i'd be too upset if my legs got ruined by fire." (because logically, if you don't want something to happen, it won't, haha.)
"you've got quite the self-esteem. not like me. i don't have any self-esteem."
"well you should dad, you look good."
"i know. i look great. imagine if i acted as good as i looked."

on modesty:
"bikinis are of the devil chelsea."
"would you have said that when you were my age dad? is that the devil standing with you in all those pictures with random girls on the beach?"
"now chelsea, that's different."

on a healthy diet:
"can you open this butter for me?"
"yeah, but dad you already put a whole pack of butter on that roll."
"well so what, it's not good without butter and butter's not bad for you is it?"
"yes dad! it's terrible for your cholesterol!"
"oh, well i'm borderline diabetic so i guess i'd better watch it." (as he spreads the rest of the butter inch deep across the roll ...)
"does cholesterol have anything to do with diabetes?"
"i'm not sure, where's the salt? pass me that salt there ... is salt bad for you?"
"ohmygosh, i think you know that answer."
"aren't you gonna eat those chips?"
"no i don't like chips."
"well then give em to me. what's wrong with you, you don't even finish your plate ..."
"well i don't like chips. most people don't eat the parsley garnish and it's definitely not normal to eat the entire lemon peel."
and i kid you not, he stops eating, turns to me and says, "chelsea, normal is just a setting on washing machines and dryers. that's all normal is." and then he went back to eating his baked potato. with his hand.