Pack your toothbrush, we're moving!

So, the ThinkChelsea staff has done something completely improv'd and probably not well thought out. But they're a bunch of stuffed shirts who are all drunk before noon anyway, and I rarely agree with their incessant squabbling. They're mostly British and are still very upset that they got kicked out of Parliament. They would also be less annoying if they didn't insist I employ the Majestic Plural in staff meetings. 

In a fit of elitism, we here at ThinkChelsea have made a new website! It's very bare-bones and needs some dusting, but we think it will clean up nicely. It's new and shiny, and given a few weeks will feel just like your favorite pair of sneakers. After this post I will only be writing at the new site, so I guess this is sort of 'goodbye' to Blogger. 

Blogger - It's been real. Thanks for the months of free blogging, for the cute layout, and for most of the time working. Your fonts and margins are still doing their own things when I import videos, but other than that it's been good. I'll still think of you from time to time, and I'll keep your number in my phone in case you get drunk and feel like catching up. Kiss the kids for me. 

Love from,

Chelsea

**To get to the new site, to go www.linedpaper.us** 

I'll meet you there. Don't get lost. 

Falling In Love At The Coffee Shop

It's been a long time since I have heard a song quite like this. It's so innocent, simple and sweet, I actually caught myself turn my head and smile shyly. 

I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you. 

(click above.)

Wild Words from Wild Women #7

"Guilt is often the price we pay willingly for what we are going to do anyway."

- Isabelle Holland, creative writer

Why You Don't Want To Be With Me In Public.

I went to Panera today for lunch, and this is the conversation I had with the girl who I ordered from. 

Her: What can I get for you?

Me: Okay, I should let you know that I usually make my orders here a lot more complicated that they ought to be. I don't try to, but it always ends up happening. 

She smiles, obviously confused. 

Me: I'd like broccoli cheddar soup and a Greek salad. 

She enters it into the computer, looking relieved that I didn't make it more complicated. 

Me: Oh, wait! Can I also get two Pink Ribbon bagels? But only one sliced and toasted, not the other one. I won't be eating the other one today. I mean, I'll be eating it soon, just not today. 'Cause, who likes stale bagels? No one, right? Well, besides that one time I had a thing for stale croutons, but that was pretty gross. I got over that quick. Oh, could I also get one packet of cream cheese? I don't need two, just one. 

Maybe I should change my greeting from "Hi. My name is Chelsea" to "Hi. I'm socially awkward, and I'll be making your life more complicated today". 

Selecting a Reader

by Ted Kooser

First, I would have her be beautiful,

and walking carefully up on my poetry

at the loneliest moment of an afternoon,

her hair still damp at the neck

from washing it. She should be wearing

a raincoat, an old one, dirty

from not having money enough for the cleaners.

She will take out her glasses, and there

in the bookstore, she will thumb

over my poems, then put the book back

up on its shelf. She will say to herself,

“For that kind of money, I can get

my raincoat cleaned.” And she will. 

Before I Die

Okay, that last post was a joke. This one will flatten you to the ground. 

Go here. 

Make a list. Make it count. 

Photobombers.

Absolutely go here. 

For clarification:

Photobomber (n.): Someone who sneaks into a picture uninvited. They usually are making bizarre faces, and the subjects of the picture generally are unaware of the Photobomber's presence in the picture.