Girls are Strange

<3.

Life asks: You suddenly find yourself in the emergency room, stripping down to one of those hideous backless hospital gowns in preparation for a chest exam. What’s the first thing that crosses your mind?

Chelsi answers: Bad day for a thong, but the nips have been groomed so we’re all good.

Nobody expects their chicken pot pie to be interrupted with the sudden need to go to the emergency room, so you can imagine my surprise when that’s exactly what happened to me a couple of weeks ago.

Three hours, two pills and an EKG later, I’m the lucky winner of an acid reflux disease called GERD and what my doctor THINKS is a severe case of anxiety. “Thinks” because I have a few symptoms that suggest I might have something much, much worse, but until I can afford the medical insurance I’ll need for routine trips to the doctor, anxiety it is. (AND HERE’S THE PART WHERE I YELL ABOUT THE $2,500 BILL I GOT IN THE MAIL FOR EMERGENCY SERVICES, WHICH, LET ME TELL YOU, ISN’T HELPING MY ANXIETY ONE BIT.)

The day after my super fun trip to the hospital I had to hop on a plane to Los Angeles for a content management conference—not the best idea ever, but the company I was covering had paid for me to go and it would’ve been pretty shitty to call them up just a day before and cancel on account of my crazy. So I went. And I wrote. And I contracted pink eye. And I didn’t sleep for 48 hours. And I spent most of my free time alone in my hotel, rocking back and forth in the shower with a hot cup of caffeine free tea (because of the GERD), wishing I had filled my new prescriptions before traveling hundreds of miles away from home.

I realize how crazy I sound right now, I really do. If you’re an employer, a potential employer, a lover, a family member, or hell – GAS will probably be around forever! – my future kid (MOMMY TOLD YOU NOT TO GOOGLE HER), I promise I’m not batshit out of my mind. I just think and worry about oh, at least a thousand things per minute, and I suppose this is my body’s way of finally telling me that that shit ain’t cool.

Bear with me, this story just reminded me of another story. Really quick: my sense of direction is shit. And when I say that, I mean that if someone painted over my street sign with a different name, I’d probably drive up and down the cross street looking for my turn. Forever. Ergo, the first time I drove with a driving instructor we got completely lost when the session was over and it was time to get back to my house. We drove aimlessly for a good hour, during which night fell and it started raining. Did I mention this was my first time driving ever? Picture it: tiny hopeless 17-year-old drives for the first time in the dark during a storm while her instructor sits beside her, eating Cheetos and quietly cursing.

Actually, my instructor turned to me and said something along the lines of, “Hey, do you realize how well you’re doing given the circumstances?”

And that’s when I calmed down and found my house. Similarly, I got through my first lone business trip with all my limbs and a new understanding of records management to boot. And even if nobody else is proud of me for it, I sure as hell am.

Here’s the part where I tell you I’ve been making moves to make sure 2010 is not a wet blanket, because despite all the problems that’ve already gone down since the ball dropped, my outlook for the next twelve months is strangely positive. I mean, to tell you the truth I kinda fell off the whole this-is-my-year bandwagon, because really, it doesn’t matter if it’s January or June or December. Every day is a good day to pick up the slack or be better or try something new. It just so happens that my motivational fairy showed up this month.

Stay tuned for news about my activities. For now, I’ll just tell you they involve money and travel and shoulder kisses. And perhaps the occasional heart palpitation.

It totally sucks when someone you love to death turns out to be a compulsive liar/exaggerator.

I try to be my own hero. That may sound flippant, but 15 years ago when I was really trying to grasp a direction for my life, a friend wise beyond his years reminded me that no one is perfect, that heroes fall and white knights on horseback are rare. Instead, he said, I should identify those qualities I found heroic and good and valuable in anyone I admired, and cultivate them in myself. “You won’t always succeed,” he said, “but you’ll be better for trying. Losers sit and wish. Heroes try. Be your own hero.”

It ends up, though, that most of the admirable qualities I want to have I saw in my father. He was the smartest man I’ve ever known and understood better than most the difference between education (of which he had little) and knowledge (of which he had much). He was incredibly gregarious, could always find something to talk about — at length — with absolutely anyone and in conversation with him, you always felt as though you were the absolute center of his universe right then. Dad had a story about everyone, and I never met anyone who knew him who didn’t have five or ten about him.

There’s a quote by Mark Twain, something along the lines of “You should endeavor to live your life such that when you die, even the undertaker will be sorry.” The procession of cars at my dad’s funeral stretched out four miles and, yes, the usually stoic funeral director cried. I should be so lucky.

– Brad L. Graham (November 25, 1968 – January 4, 2010)

(Aw, does dropping a zero mean those tacky New Year glasses are kaput?)

I started one of those year-end posts that we all know and love here in the blogosphere, but I have work to catch up on, several Bejeweled Blitz games to play, hair to wash, and a door to dash out of as soon as I’m done getting ready for this evening’s festivities.

Long story short:

In retrospect, I realize I was a weak person for a long time. I doubted myself too often and allowed certain people to walk all over me because I thought it was the best way to prove my undying love. Readers, BE YE NOT SO STUPID.

In January I knew I had some serious soul searching to do, and, after a three month trip to Japan, the discovery of a bar with an eight hour long happy hour (including free grilled cheese sandwiches!), and getting to watch New Moon in the theater with one of my best friends while completely wasted, I think I’ve found what I was looking for.

Know this: the innermost parts of you—your motives, your convictions, your dispositions and attitudes—can change. I know that’s heavy and maybe I sound crazy for saying it, but if I learned anything this year, that would be it.

Events leading up to ’09  turned my own shit inside out and backwards, meaning I’ve spent every second since realizing that change trying to get to acquainted with who I am now. And let me tell you, accepting and coming to terms with the fact that you’ve allowed yourself to be uprooted and punted across a field of bullshit is really, really difficult. But today I am happy with me. Happier, in fact, than I ever have been. I suppose that means that sometimes it’s not so bad to be a remix.

Here are my resolutions. Feel free to adopt some or all:

1. Do not be afraid of change. Most of us are reborn every day.
2. Do not bend over backwards for people because you think they’ll do the same for you. Most people are assholes. Be nice because it is your nature, or because you do not want to fall into the asshole bracket.
3. Keep your eyes peeled because what you put out really does come back to you, but often looks too different to recognize immediately. Love included.
4. Stop eating so much junk.

That’s all, folks. Be safe, be merry, eat vegetables, and I’ll catch you in 2010.