Thursday, May 28, 2009

Bears Can Smell the Menstruation...



So I have a friend named Priscilla Hansen. She’s pretty awesome, and we are always have fun chats on Facebook about the most random topics. Today’s topic: the crappiness of Birth Control and being a girl. We had so much to say on that little chat that we’d thought to share it with the cyber world. So here’s a nice summation of our discussion.

Oh, and be warned. This post may, like the last, very well contain too much information...

Here is Cilla's rant on Birth control....

Birth control is the devil. That’s pretty self explanatory, but because my vocal filter hasn’t been changed in a while I will expand on this subject:

Who in their right mind thought that it was okay to pump women full of artificial hormones to prevent unwanted pregnancy!? Don’t we have enough to go through as is? I mean, maybe I’m crazy (thanks to the BC), but I kinda think the PMS, cramping, bloating, and ‘special gift’ once a month is bad enough! But noooo, let’s add timed medication to the mix, eh? Sounds, fun!

“Hey, Priscilla, how would you like to wake up at the exact time every morning to take a pill that will make you dizzy, nauseas, fatigued, lightheaded, and possibly gain up to 10lbs?”

“Oh, geeze, men of the world, can I, please? I sure love not feeling like myself!”

Psh, ridiculous. So here I am, suffering all sorts of crappy side effects from the pill, and I can’t go off it cause, SHOCK, there is no way that Bob* and I could support a child right now. NO WAY. Sure, I can change to a different type, but I was told to give it 3 months to see if your body regulates to the new amount of hormones. And even after I was to switch it’ll throw my body through another hormonal rollercoaster!

So to all you women out there working your butt off to prevent unwanted pregnancy, I give you a million and one gold kudos. You take so much crap from that little daily pill, and you keep a smile on your face (most of the time, at least).

And to all the men out there supporting a woman on birth control I have a few things to say to you:

You better darn well treat your lady like the ultimate queen-goddess divine that she is. Not only is she doing all the work to make sure you guys don’t have children before the time is right, but she will one day friggin’ carry a child in her body for 9 months and then push it out of a way-too-tiny opening after a traumatic 12 hours of intense labor pains. Worship the ground she walks on, men! If she wants authentic Canadian bacon, you grab your passport and haul your heiney into the car to get her that glorified ham! Tell her she looks beautiful every chance you get. Oh, and, you better do the dishes and take out the trash WITHOUT being asked. If she gets to deal with this hormone crap, you better have the decency to help with the housework, you pig. Kiss her on the forehead. It is seriously one of the sweetest things ever. Forehead kisses. Golden. Oh, and, give her the remote. Just do it.


And my rant on everything else.... :)

And men, don’t you dare tell us we can’t blame everything on that blasted pill. Because we can. And we will. I’m irritated, because of the pill. Because I’m irritated, I might want to punch you in the throat, because of the pill. I am constantly complaining about head and boob aches, because of the pill. I need EXTRA loving, because of the pill. Just as you men blame your perverted and sickening ways on the simple fact that you are dude – we blame our overly emotional and psychotic ways on said pill.

And that’s not all… Oh no. You think you men are off the hook THAT easy? Tuck that tail between your legs and THINK AGAIN. Not only do we have to carry your children for 9 months, bleed for 7 days of the month – every month, and deal with lovely side effects of maintaining said menstruation… There are many more reasons why you should be kissing the ground we walk on.

Hair. We actually have it. And we spend an infinite amount of time making sure it looks okay. Blow drying, curling, straightening, coloring, styling. You might respond, “but you don’t have to do all that”… And you are correct. So let’s consider for one small moment if we were to spend as much time on our hair as you do on yours… Hmm. You’d probably get something similar to this…

Pretty… right?
Don’t even get me started on plucking and shaving. It is socially unacceptable for a girl to have a mustache. Men have freedom of choice in this matter. Have you men ever TRIED tweezing your mustache?! Let alone waxing it?! Keeping our eyebrows in perfect shape is beyond obnoxious. Have you seen how fast those hairs grow?

If you can honestly tell me that you want to jump this girl’s bones right now… You are hereby excused from the eyebrow rant.

And SHAVING? Man almighty. The only things you’ve got to worry about are your face and neck. We… shave our armpits, our legs, and our bikini areas.


Why?



Enough said. So when we take longer in the bathroom… You sure as heck better keep those perfectly kissable lips SEALED as to what the hold up is. If you’d like to run your hand across prickly stubble, then go ahead, rush us.

Peeing. The world is your friggin urinal. Full bladder on a camping trip? NO PROBLEM! Just whip out Kroll the Warrior King and relieve your waters to your heart’s content. You do not need to worry about peeing all over your pants that are at your ankles, or having a stream of urine run down your thigh. Nor do you have to worry about sitting on a toilet seat that has been splashed with another male’s urine. Nor do you have to worry about going to sit on the toilet and falling in because another man didn’t think it convenient to put the toilet seat down. And lastly, you do not EVER have to worry about standing in a line to pee for over 10 minutes…. EVER.

Speaking of bodily functions… Farting and burping? Why does it seem to be 50 times more repulsive when a girl does these things? Who started that trend? Give me a break. I find it incredibly ridiculous that girls feel that they need to hold in their farts and suffer the inherent pains of doing so because it’s not “lady-like”. PUH-lease. If you’re not in a position to poop, then by all means, TOOT! If a guy does this, it’s half expected, and “kosher” – if you will.

Boobs. You do not have them. Though you lust after them for heaven only knows what reasons. They are blobs of fat, and you do not realize exactly how annoying said blobs are, until you have a pair of your own.

You do not have to worry about a car repairman, or any sort of repairman trying to charge you more than something’s worth.

If you’re a man, wrinkles add character. If you’re a woman, cursed be your name if you have a wrinkle.

You can sit with your knees in separate counties no matter what you’re wearing.

Have we made our point clear? So I highly suggest that you go to the store and buy your wonderful woman her favorite flowers right now. She deserves them. Then kiss her and tell her how much she means to you. Go!

Oh, and, sorry about the intense cynicism of this post. Priscilla and I blame it on the birth control. Deal with it.


*Bob is Priscilla's soon-to-be husband in 2 days. (EEEEE!)

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

TMI

Warning - This post contains a lot of TMI bullets. If you find yourself repulsed, it's your own fault. You were warned.

-'Fighting' is possibly the worst movie EVER. The plot was retarded. The music was retarded. The characters were retarded. If you're a fan of self-induced torture or have troubles sleeping, go see this movie.

-Kickboxing sometimes makes me want to die. Though it has made me highly aware of muscles in my butt that I never knew existed.

-I made the mistake of watching the first episode of 'Gossip Girls'. I am currently hooked. And will most likely remain a hermit until I catch up to the current season. Ridiculous thing is it's about a bunch of drama in the upper east side of New York. Who cares? Apparently I do. I. am. awesome.


-I'm not a huge fan of Olive Garden I decided. I mean, the food is decent. But for what it costs - it just isn't quite worth it. Plus, I remember their breadsticks being a lot better than they've been the past couple times I've been there. This is extremely unfortunate. But luckily for me, I've discovered the rolls at Texas Roadhouse. This restaurant is officially one of my favorites now. That place definitely knows how to feed a person. I find that that I go there for their salad and rolls. Is this weird? Seeing as it's... well... a steakhouse? Oh well. :)

-I have a love/hate relationship with birth control. But mostly hate. I mean... It's really useful to keep me from getting pregnant with all that crazy sex I've been having. (Joke.) But seriously... Even the generic is about 60 bucks. Ridiculous. "Ladies! Come one, come all! For one low monthly payment all womanly problems can be yours. Enjoy regular headaches, frequent mood swings, uncontrollable acne, weight gain, and last but not least: menstration! Menstration will be on time, every time. Guaranteed. Try birth control today!" I should be a spokesperson... Yes?


-I woke up the other morning with a crazy pain in my hands and arms. I haven't done anything recently that would've brought said pain on. I think I might be dying.

-My lover and I went on a preeeetty awesome date last night. Firstly, we went to my grandparents and had a lovely Memorial Day dinner. Sounds hot, right?* We then went to my house so i could change into some "real clothes" and some tennis shoes. I quickly realized that I don't own any "real" shoes. They're all fancy heels, or sparkly flats, flip flops, and then my one measley pair of running shoes that I've had since 10th grade. So, to my dismay, I had to go with the ugly running shoes. We went to Wal Mart and picked out some food. (Lunchables, to be exact. I triangle** Lunchables. We went back to my house to put it in my fridge, and I walked outside to see his little sister in the driveway to pick us up. She drives us to a school. I get out, to see Shawn pulling helmets and longboards out of the trunk. Oh. hell. Longboards? Seriously Shawn? I had a brief moment of wondering if Shawn wanted me dead. But he told me that we were going to "discover my hidden talents"*** Anyways, longboarding may or may not be a hidden talent of mine. I actually got the hang of it more than I thought I would. And I probably looked like a 5 year old with my bright orange helmet with Shawn holding my hand as I rolled along the street trying to figure out how to steer the dang thing. It was surprisingly fun though. And there were no injuries, double plus. We longboarded - or tried to - back to my house to get all the food and drove to Shawn's house where he had a TANDEM BIKE waiting. Best. moment. ever. I've always wanted to ride a tandem bike. Though, I never realized that the hardest part of riding the bike, would be actually getting onto the bike. That was all sorts of special. But we eventually got on and it was purely awesome. The whole, not being able to see where I was going, and not being able to actually control the bike, took some getting used to. But it was extremely enjoyable. We went to a park and laid out a blanket and had a picnic with our fruit tray and Lunchables. It was heaven. And to finish off the evening, we went back to his house and got in the hot tub. Any date that ends with a hot tub is A-okay by me. I sure do like Mr. Milne. He makes me all fuzzy and warm. Tee hee.

-I'm getting a boob job.

-Yeah okay. So that was a lie. No boob job for Chelsea. But I am getting a "cosmetic procedure" done. Which involves wax, and a certain bikini line. Am I nervous? As hell. Will death ensue from the pain? Probably. Why am I doing it? Because I can. Besides, who likes shaving anyways, right? Stay tuned for the post-waxing. Assuming I can still move afterwards. Don't deny how thrilled you are to be a part of this check off the bucket list.

I can't help but think the pain will be similar.



-I passed all my classes this last semester. Straight Bs. Oh, and an A. That makes my heart frown a little bit. What happened to goody two shoes Chelsea who gets straight As? Oh well. Bs get degrees. :)

-I've come to grips with the fact that I'm a huge pansy. I would like to say that I am super adventurous and will do risky things. But seriously... I just can't. I'm officially putting "De-pansy myself" on my bucket list. It might take a lot. But some day....


And there you have it. I didn't bother with any preface other than my lovely warning. May as well cut to the chase, right?



*I love my grandparents. I do.
** I'm really not a fan of people who always say "I heart this" or "I heart that" so in my annoying defiance, I use alternate shapes. Deal with it.
***I'm pretty positive my hidden talent is sex. I haven't found any others. So it makes perfect sense. TBD.

Monday, May 11, 2009

I is smrt.

So we're here to learn, right? Here are a couple lessons learned throughout the last week. As with everything else, take it or leave it.

-Training for marathons is hard. Yes. Chelsea Chamberlain is going to attempt to complete the half marathon in Bryce Canyon this July. Am I a runner? No. Am I athletic at all? No. Do I enjoy working out? No. Do I love sweating? No. Ah, the sweet ironies of my life. I figured that if I signed myself up for said event, this would possibly be enough motivation to whip my butt into shape (preferably a shape other than round). So I've gotten to the point where I can run 2 miles without stopping... on a treadmill. Damn those things. They trick you into thinking running is that easy outside as well. Yeah, not so much. I get outside ready to bust out my 2 miles, but to my great agitation and dismay, I'm huffing and puffing and want to throw myself into the Jordan River at .5 miles into my run. Lord bless my soul with the strength to run 13 miles. *Whimper*-I have 7 more classes til I'm finished with my bachelors degree forever... Unless... I decide to double major in Psychology. Kill me. Seriously.

-Joe's Crab Shack has good burgers. Yes, I ordered a burger in a strictly seafood atmosphere. Don't judge me. I wanted to take my boy on a date. He likes seafood. Heir go, we went to a seafood restaurant - because I'm thoughtful like that. (So thoughtful, that beforehand, I looked at the menu online to be sure that they had chicken fingers, or burgers, or something that couldn't swim in its former life.) Don't get me wrong, there is some seafood I'll eat. I can handle fish. It's just the other stuff that weirds me out. I used to be a fan of shrimp until my parents told me when I was younger that the vein in the middle of the shrimp is poop. Gag. Shrimp has never tasted the same to me. People always try to pull the, "But this shrimp is 'de-veined'!" thing on me - yeah, I don't care... Shrimp is disgusting. So if you ever find yourself in Joe's Crab Shack and hating seafood, get the burger. Es muy bueno. (Plus the waiters dance at random intervals during the night - thus increasing the entertainment factor.)

-Star Trek was actually good. I've never been what one might call a "Trekkie". So not having seen many episodes of the show, I wasn't sure if I'd enjoy the show. But I totally did. I'm usually strictly a romantic comedy genre type of girl, and if I venture out of that realm, it's because I know there will be a love story in the movie. And while this movie wasn't high in romanticism, I still very much enjoyed it. Plus, Captain Kirk is very extremely attractive. Go see him... er... the movie.



-Fiber One granola bars give me ungodly flatulence. Never in my life have I tooted so much in one day. Unbelievable. Not only that, but the ratio of stinky to odorless fluffs was quite heinous. Unless you have some mentally strange desire to have gas all day long, just say no to Fiber One bars.

-Sacrament meeting needs a flashing light, a timer, a buzzer, a frigging parade - anything - to inform the speaker that their time is up. I had the opportunity to speak in church yesterday for Mother's Day. What better way to pay a tribute to mothers, especially mine - right? So my talk was fine, I feel like I did a good job. I just did a good job, for far too long. At one point I looked at the clock, and rather than looking at the long hand like a normal, educated person would do, I looked at the small hand. (In my defense, there was a glare on the clock.) So I think I still have all the time in the world. So on and on I ramble about mothers. Only to sit down and realize that they cut the girl that was supposed to speak after me out of the program because I went ten minutes longer than I should have. Oops. Needless to say I felt all sorts of ridiculous. At least I was the 3rd of 4 speakers and 3 primary songs. Had I been first, my friends joke that I might've just hosed the entire rest of the program. Apparently I'm long winded - with or without fiber bars.

-I am obsessed with the following song. Ob.sessed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0v3d6SFcDys

(I would've embedded the video on here... But it looked retarded on my blog. So be efficient and go there yourself.)

I am absolutely captivated by musicians that get so into their music. I love seeing that sort of passion. It's incredibly inspirational, and makes me wish that I had stuck with piano. Though I count myself lucky to be able to enjoy the musical talents of others.

-Buffing calluses = love. Shawn and I gave each other pedicures minus the paint. And nothing says 'I love you' more than scraping dead skin off the bottom of someone's foot. Normally I'm not a fan of people touching my feet. The select few that I do allow access are Shawn and the Asians. So if you don't fall into either category, don't even try. As much as I'm sure all three of you reading this are now craving to touch my feet... Cut your losses and move on people.

That's all I've got for now. Who needs school when you've got life... Right?

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

I hate bad spellers.

Did no one feel it necessary to tell me I spelled "psycho" wrong on my blog?

Haters.