So this is how you'll know you're at a family gathering. Well, at least one of my family's gatherings.

You know you're at Chelsie's Family Gathering if:

1. Before entering the Gathering, interceptions will be made as someone has to explain the special . . . um . . . nuances . . . of certain family members.
2. Referrals to psychologists will be distributed for the inevitable fall out from said Gathering and aforementioned nuances.
3. Narcotics will be offered to anyone with the slightest itch of the nose or broken nail.
4. Psychological warfare will be abundant. Tears will be shed. People will cry for their mommy's. And this is just among the adults.
5. If you are under the age of 74 you will sit at the "Kids Table" until you have acquired a spouse.
6. You will then traumatize the kids at the Kids Table out of sheer boredom.
7.If have yet to acquire a spouse you will be gently and not so gently reminded of this approximately 9.4 times before the end of the Gathering. This will start at the age of 12.
8. You will be asked where you work 6 times. By the same well meaning relative. You will change your answer 4 times because you're not as well meaning.
9. If you are under the age of 30, it will be assumed you are in college. If you are not, you will be asked why. Your answer will not be good enough (even if it is "I graduated 3 years ago") and you then will be given a lecture. You will then learn why lying to family is a necessary evil.
10. When someone aims a camera at you this means you must duck for cover, leap behind large pieces of furniture and knock small children out of the way. You will then wonder why there are no photographic evidence that you attended any gathering since infancy - and why all the children start developing twitches by the end of the night.
11. You will receive at least 2 lectures throughout the gathering. It will happen, so any denial of this fact is futile. The best course of action is to encourage it and get it done with as quick as possible so you can 'enjoy' the rest of your evening. To do so, here are some great conversation starters that ensure you will be receiving a lecture within 4.6 seconds:

• "Guess what? I just got a new Credit Card! Time to go SHOPPING!"
• "I like to leave my AC on at 65 degrees. It feels better that way. And I'm sure it is very economical this time of year."
• "I think this Health Care reform thing is a good idea."
• "I don't think identity theft is that big a problem. That's why I carry my social security card AND 4 copies of my Drivers Licence with me everywhere I go. And did I mention that I leave them unattended in the airport from time to time?"

So my ears hit their expiration date. Apparently.

So I have issues with my ears. You can read about these issues here . We've never really gotten along, my ears and I. They always threaten to put me in agonizing pain and I always threaten that if they do I'm gonna make like Van Gogh and cut them off. Well, at least one of us always follows through with those threats.

Yesterday my ears started bleeding. Not like a little, but a good amount. That was fun to discover while at work. I kept trying to play it cool whilst I stuffed Kleenexes into my ears. I thought it would go away, but all night long they would spontaneously start bleeding. It was like a fire cracker show . . . just as soon as you think it's over, the true finale starts and things are exploding all over again. I figured my ears were throwing themselves their own going away party and wanted to go out with a bang. I accepted that. I went through the stages of grief and came to terms with it. I was ready to move on. Except that now the 'party' is still in full swing 24 hours later and I'm getting a little annoyed. Conveniently I have an appointment with an ENT (Ear Nose Throat) Dr next week. I was supposed to see and ENT when I was like 7. I'm going next week. That's procrastination at it's best, folks. But I'm a little worried because I'm pretty sure by the time I go to see him he's gonna say there's nothing that can be done. If my ears were a car, it'd be totalled at this point.

So has this ever happened to you? . . . . No, just me? Lovely.

Quite often I have more than one internet window up on my computer at any given time. In fact I normally have eleventyhundred windows up. I attribute this to my yet-to-be-diagnosed ADD. I'll be reading a blog, then open another window and read another, then remember I need to check my bank balance, etc.
Well, I always have my computer on silent unless I want to listen to something or am watching a show or something. So inevitably, I'll decide to watch a show or whatever and turn my volume on and suddenly eleventyhundred songs/commercials/screaming people burst from my computer. It seems that everyone these days play songs on their blog, and then there are the random commercials that play on a loop, and then some weird funky noises coming from ads trying to get you to click on them. I then will have a panic attack trying to stop the noise. I'll click on each window trying to decide if this one is one of the noise offenders. It's like a diffusing a bomb . . . . . hmmm that wire didn't work? Lets cut THIS one!
On a side note, someone lovingly pointed out that I say 'so' a lot. He asked if I was aware that I have so far started each blog title with 'So'. Well, I am aware. It's on purpose. I call it a theme. You can call it a quirk or as some like to call it, another unexplained characteristic.

So I fell. At work. Go me.

Anyone that knows me even a little bit (this should be you, otherwise why are you reading this?? I'm not that interesting . . . ) knows that I'm not the most graceful person. I wasn't nominated for "Most Likely to Become a Ballerina or Something Else Requiring Coordination" in High School. (To be completely honest, I don't know if that was even an award, but, well, it should be.)

I fall a lot. A LOT. I've had 3 concussions in my life. That is more than most pro wrestlers. 1 of those concussions was from walking. WALKING. There wasn't anything in my path, my shoes weren't untied, there wasn't even a stinking BANANA PEEL. I was a sophomore in high school. I had just gotten lunch (along with half the school) and was walking on the concrete, downhill, in the middle of literally HUNDREDS of my peers, and went down. And being the wise little sophomore that I was, I decided to protect my lunch instead of head. My head hit first. It took the entire impact. Then what seemed like the entire school proceeded to swarm up to me, all the while assuring me that NO ONE saw so I shouldn't be embarrassed. I couldn't tell you who was talking to me though, because so much blood was running down my face and I could barely make out the floor I was lying on. I don't remember too much of what happened next. I was told that I attempted to stand up and kept passing out (I would so love video of that scene. Hundreds of high schoolers circling some girl that keeps standing up and collapsing. "Oops she did it again" could have been the background music. I crack myself up) . I do remember making it into one of the bathrooms and the next thing I remember I was UNDER the sink. So I probably passed out again because I am an over achiever and apparently think that if you're gonna pass out once, you might as well do it a hundred times in the most disgusting place possible. Someone went and got the security guard (why the security guard? Really? How did that decision making process go? "Hmmm . . . someone is hurt. We need someone with a gun. . . .the SECURITY GUARD!") The security guard came into the bathroom and just stared at me while I was under the sink pretending like I do this all the time. I left the bathroom with the security guard ( I don't remember if it was a guy or a girl. I was a little paying attention to staying conscious idea) and as we were leaving two girls were about to enter the bathroom. They looked at me and their eyes widened as they took in my bloodied state. The look they gave each other was priceless. If I would have been functioning like I normally am, I probably would've spouted off a stupid comment like, "Yeah, the toilet started talking back. I had to show him who's boss."
Instead I climbed into the security guards golf cart and was taken to the nurses office. And of course the security guard thought it would be a good plan to take a tour of the school on the way to the nurses office. I'm pretty sure I passed every single student on the way. I won't go into the whole nurse/emergency room/trauma because that part wasn't very entertaining but what I will say is that I was definitely forced to go to school the next day. Good times. And I had to participate in a Oral Mid Term for my Spanish class that day. I tried explaining to the teacher that the Dr said that memory loss was common with concussions but she showed no mercy. Good times.

So, that wasn't even the story I was supposed to tell . . . . anyways. So - I fell at work. That's all of the story you're gonna get though because now I'm tired of reliving my falls.

Speaking of tired, this morning I was SO incredibly tired I literally (and I mean literally) forgot the lyrics to "Happy Birthday". I was supposed to call and sing my Uncle Billy Happy Birthday (he has Downs Syndrome so birthdays are still a big deal for him.) I was going to do it on my drive to work this morning but I got very little sleep last night and realized just how out of it I was when I sat there trying to remember the words to Happy Birthday. I started humming it to myself hoping it will come back to me. It finally did - but I kept thinking I forgot the second verse or something, but no - the song is really that short. And because I had to dwell on the lyrics for such a long time, I now realize that "Happy Birthday" is a super repetetive song. And kinda lame. And short. I mean, we only get it sung to us once a year, so you would think it would be an exciting song. Something to look forward to. I bet the first person to ever get this song sung to them on their birthday was all excited and then after the song they were like: "Really? That's the best you got? On my BIRTHDAY? Wow, I'm sure that took you at least . . . 15 seconds to come up with. Thanks. I feel real special now."

So have you ever procrastinated running away from an axe murderer because you were too tired??? Yeah, me too.

Life has been busy. Well, more like work has been busy. I'm taking on a lot of roles, and have a lot of projects. So I've been working overtime and last week I worked 7 days a week. Yes, I worked on Sunday because I'm a sinner. But I really needed to get a project ready for Monday morning. Well, I left Sunday knowing things weren't ready so I'd have to come in early on Monday because the project needed to be ready before people started coming in at 6 AM. Early as in 5 AM early. As in please-kill-me-now early. And I don't sleep well, like, ever. So 2:30 AM rolled around and I gave up trying to sleep. It seemed kinda pointless at that point. By the way - life is super boring at 2:30 AM. No one is awake to talk to and anything I would normally do when I get free time doesn't work at 2:30. Like shop, or go to the bank. People should keep their establishments open just in case an insomniac decides they need to wash their car at 2:30 AM. It would be real helpful.
Anyway, I got to work at 4:30 AM and encountered a gate to the parking lot I didn't know existed preventing access to my work. Apparently American Express is paranoid that some freak would possibly come into work too early. But I outsmarted them, like the creepy overzealous employee I am. I found another entrance in. When I walked into the front lobby of work the security guard eyed me with a combination of fear, curiousity, and confusion. I spent the whole day running around and trying not to fall over. By the end of the day I was having trouble putting complete sentences together and found people's faces amusing. I've come to recognize this is my body's way of telling me that it is about to self destruct if I don't go to sleep, like, NOW. So I went home and layed in bed trying to sleep. Not long after I heard a sound like glass breaking and then a thud. I froze - listening.There was then a loud crashing noises, as if people were moving furniture and then kicking it. I decided the only logical conclusion for these noises was that an axe murderer was breaking into my house and about to kill me. I took a moment to contemplate if I should run and hide. My mind said I should run - in fact my mind was screaming it - but my body disagreed. I believe my body's exact words were, "Yeah. Good luck with that."
So my body won. I fell asleep shortly after that. And obviously I didn't die, because you are reading this. I never did find out what the noise came from though. It could have been the neighbors. It could have been people in the parking lot. It could have been my sister coming home and watching a show. OR, the most believable option is that it really was an axe murderer and he/she (I'm not sexist, it could have been a girl. I'm all about female empowerment) got to my bedroom, saw me laying on the bed and decided this was the worst game of hide and seek they've ever played. They are probably used to being able to chase their victim, or at least find them under the bed. It's no fun when your victim is in plain sight and apparently doesn't give a crap if you start killing them. So they probably moved on to my neighbor. Yeah, that's definitely that most believable option.

So allow me to introduce you to my little friend . . .

This is my new phone. It is the LG EnV Touch. It is pretty. It is shiny. It completes me. I don't know how I lived without it.

You wanna know my favorite feature? The GPS navigation. I got this phone 2 days before my journey to Utah and then onward to Idaho. I get lost going to places that I have been 20 times before. I get lost in Walmart. So having GPS navigation on a 17 hour (one way) drive in a storm might be a good idea. So I bonded with this GPS Navigation. I named her Dolores, because:

A.) I feel better talking back to the GPS when it has a name and

B.) Because I think she sounds like a very polite older woman

Dolores and I pretty much got along, and because I know nothing I trusted her when she told me where to go. Until I got to my hotel in Provo. Then she had me circling my hotel. I literally kept going around in circles around the same square mile because she didn't tell me when to turn in. And I could see the hotel from the road. So I started arguing back and explaining to Dolores that if I turned, I would be at the hotel. She didn't care for that so when I did turn in, she very calmly stated,

"Make the next legal U-tun."

That was her very passive aggressive way of saying,

"What the hell?!"

I did find out one small little quirk of Dolores. She is a little too polite and won't interrupt. So, when I'm on the phone and I should be turning, she doesn't but in. She just lets me jabber on about ice and the ice on the roads and my impending death because of the ice on the roads. She didn't even think to clear her throat and say,

" You know Chelsie, sorry to interupt and everything, but if you don't exit onto the 202 highway right now then you are going to be stuck on your current highway for approximately 300 miles. Which, you know, means you are going to be going WAY off track. Just sayin'."

Nope. She just stays quiet and allows me to make stupid mistakes without making any noise. We got into a heated discussion after I finished my phone conversation and realized what she had done. She didn't understand my rationale that I would prefer her to interrupt and give me a heads up than to let me waste more time and gas. We stopped speaking for awhile. Which was difficult for me because I had no idea where to go. It made for a very awkward car ride.

So . . . . remember how I said I can't do anything normal??

My brother got married. But more about that later because I don't have the time or patience to load the pics right now.
No, the important thing that I need to post is about how I screwed up myself . . . . AGAIN. The whole thing started because my shoulder has been killing me lately (when is it not?) and no one can put enough pressure on my knot to help it at all. So on Sunday I got a little bit desperate and decided to take matters into my own hands . . . . or cleaning tools more specifically. I decided if I push my shoulder against something just right then that should do the job. I won't tell you everything I tried, but I did try a door frame . . . . that was awkward and ineffective. So then I came up with a STELLAR idea . . . . I'd use a mop! Not a dirty one, I had a new one. So I pushed the mop end against the ceiling and put the other end on my shoulder and stood on my tiptoes to apply pressure. It was not easy, but I'm sure it would make for an interesting visual. So, it didn't really work. It hurt, but not in the good, getting-out-a-knot hurt. More like a there-is-a-mop-sticking-out-of-my-shoulder kind of hurt. So I stopped, defeated. Well, the problem is, yesterday I woke up and my arm was kind of numb/in pain. (It is possible to be numb and in pain. And it sucks.) And it still hurts today. Here's the issue. So, a bundle of your nerves run through your shoulder and down your arm. I'm pretty sure I damaged those nerves. Either that, or they are really pissed and want to make sure I know it. And now I can't write because it hurts too much. Lovely.

Moral of the story - don't try to work your own knots with a mop. It doesn't work too well. You'll thank me later.