After, after the final rose: Everyone BUT Molly hates Jason

Did I spend over 2 and a half hours last night watching the season finale of the Bachelor? Yes. Did I go to bed an hour and a half past my bedtime? Yes. Do I feel utterly dooped by the fascists(meanest word I could think of) at ABC? Yes. Does everyone hate Jason? Of course. Does everyone hate Molly? They should. Do I want to send cookies to Melissa? Sure do. Does anyone have her address? I hope so.

Here's the breakdown:

Meet Jason Mesnick, looking really "cool" as a water enthusiast Bachelor. Nice hat.

The two ladies he fell in love with during the show, Melissa (the best) on the left and Molly (the worst) on the right. Seriously, how far away from polygamy is this?

Jason and Melissa sharing an obviously "no chemistry" moment. That's sarcasm people.

Blah, blah, blah, I like you the most.

Cry it out Molly, in three days you will be getting a phone call from Alexis or some other woman-hating producer over at the Bachelor telling you to "hold on, wink, wink, there might be trouble in paradise. If you know what I mean?"

Oopsy daisy, I'm Jason, and I gave the final rose to the wrong "amazing" girl. Take backs.

Pictured here is Melissa, who I'm sure will have a LOT of trouble finding dates post The Mesnick.

Melissa, everyone likes you more anyway. Consider yourself having dodged a major Bachelor bullet. And thank you for mouthing a bad word about Jason, well deserved.

The best and the worst

The Best: Celine Dion

I was honored to be a guest of this international superstar/French Canadian last Sunday evening when she came to Salt Lake City. So by guest, I really mean, upperbowl center, with a blocked view of the screen due to a strategically placed lighting system. But, her melodic tones felt like they were just for me. I have a feeling that the drunk mommies in front of me felt the same as they waved their airbrushed acrylics to almost every song. Minus, of course, the chubby one stuffed into her "little black dress," with white flip flops, who took 3 bathroom breaks during the show. Apparently, the Energy Solutions Draft hits pretty hard.

Back to Celine, she was thin (leggy, more like it), beautiful lioness mane, slightly fashionable, goofy to say the least, and a voice that I think rocked Mark Eaton and John Stockton's retired over-sized jerseys more than once. I loved it! So did my mom, or at least I think. Mom remained in a statuesque seated position with her reading glasses on the entire time. She was making a point not to act too excited (think drunk mommies), as the concert was rescheduled to a Sunday night. Sinner.

Needless to say, Celine is the best!

The Worst: Cadbury Mini Eggs

By worst, I mean the most delicious little devils that peak their ugly heads every February as a form of opposition to Lent. There's no way anyone can think of giving up chocolate with those guys sitting in the seasonal aisle of your local Walgreens. UGHH. I hate getting fat before summer. Looks like I will be picking up a 12-pack of Slim Fast Optima come April. Well, as soon as all the Easter candy is no longer being clearanced.

Sushi, boo hoo

Ahhh, I'm going through "hippness" withdrawls. Why you ask? Good question, here's the answer: I haven't had sushi in over two weeks. Now, for all you yokels out there, this may not be a big deal, but for those of us waiting on Hollywood to discover us at any moment, this is a travesty. Plus, chopsticks, used correctly or otherwise, is a means to separate the "in" from the "out" crowd. Sushi is cool, and so am I.

Now, I like sushi, but not sashimi. If you don't know what that is, next time you are in a sushi joint (cool word), look for the most artsy/homeless looking individual and check out what's on their plate. It's the raw stuff. Ick. I am so all about the cute little rolls that look like hors devours, and consequently appear low fat and slimming.

It used to be that me and a few other hipsters hit up the local sushi restaurant on Tuesday nights, for what we so cleverly called, "Sushi Tuesday." Sushi is half off on Tuesday, which appeals to many of my college attending cohorts. I, of course, can afford much more expensive sushi, but I choose to eat with the chattal as a wink to my former "poor" self. However, lately, schedules have gotten busier (not mine, I don't have a boyfriend who needs scheduling, annoying) and Sushi Tuesdays are slowly becoming extinct. Will anyone help preserve this endangered species on Tuesdays at 7? Should I pick up an applique vest next time they're on sale at Penney's? Should I kiss my guest appearance on the Today Show goodbye?

Help!

P.S. If you are concerned, don't worry, I still eat fro-yo quite regularly, and I did hit up a "hole in the wall" Indian restaurant in San Francisco last weekend. I'm okay.

Check it

Now, I'm not usually in to advertising something that may be cooler than me, but, well, it is a new year. Anwayzzz, this is helping me make my life better than yours. Cool.
http://www.funtalia.com/

iLazy

I'm a gadget guru. I love them! I love all the things that robots can do for me. Recently, my "Rosie" (Jetsons reference), of choice is the (wait for it. . . ) iPhone. Please disregard any of the opinions about iPhones stated in Crackberry. I knew my life would be different with this little stocking stuffer, yep. But, I did not understand the degree to which my life would change.

But, the iPhone isn't the only thing making me a better person these days. There's so much great technology out there. At the same time, there are some really stupid ones. Open your Sky Mall magazine to reacquaint yourself with some of these, digital dog feeders, giant magnifying glasses, shower book protectors, etc. You get the picture.

Top 3 Cyborgs I can't live without. . . I imagine you can't either:

1. The Internet- I remember thinking, "I don't even know what people do on the Internet." I may have used the term "web," just because that's how the computer lab assistant phrased it back in the 90s. I'll admit that in 7th grade the sole function of the Internet for me, was to download and print pictures of Simon Rex (MTV VJ) on mtv.com. I out grew that phase, I mean really how immature? Now, I use the Internet to look at people from high school on facebook.

2. Email/text- Ugh, remember speaking to people on the phone, or worse in person? Because of this technology, I now have a slight panic attack if forced to call a number where someone besides the person I am trying to reach may answer the phone. Ghetto.

3. iPod- Having access to every song ever played in my lifetime is refreshing. I can't believe I ever sat next to the radio waiting to record a song on a cassette. How pathetic. Now, I get tired of a song after 22 seconds because I am so anxious to see what else that crazy shuffle feature can come up with. I can't wait to get my iPod implanted in my skull by A.D. 2020.

All in all the future has been okay. However, I am a little disappointed by the things not yet invented or made available for public use.

1. Hover boards- I think that we can all agree that Michael J. Fox had our mouths watering in BTTF 2. Apparently there is a fairytale of a story in which my friend Jennifer rode on a hover craft at an elementary school assembly circa '94. I've seen no evidence of its existence.

2. Teleporting- "Beam me up Scotty." The closest thing I have gotten to that is a confiscated laser light beam pen in my A4 class. Instead, I'm still sliding over paved roads like pioneers.

3. Hologram communication- Don't go telling me that Skype is the same. I want Lea (a little broken up due to signal) warning me in person. Is it too much to ask?

4. Outfit Computer- Whatever Cher was using in Clueless to get dressed every morning, I want.

Technology I am surprised is still around:

1. Phones with cords- There is one sitting on my desk.

2. Calculators- Until we learn to do math in our heads (never), this will have a place in every home office. We could also note this technology as the beginning of the dumbing of America, ah finally.

3. Overhead projectors- Most every teacher in the U.S. still uses these, and is completely dependent upon them.

4. Manual windows and door locks- How do I know these are still around? My 2003 Corolla still sports a more vintage system. No worries, in case of water submersion, I will be fine.

5. Bank Suction Tubes- This has 1970s future written all over it. However, somehow we can't seem to figure out another way to get the teller our driver's license and work check. Mind boggling.

Thank heavens the future has brought just enough technology to keep me from having to actually learn a trade. Everything one needs to know can be found in small doses on Wikipedia. Pheww.

When I was a boy

This post title comes from a great song by songstress Dar Williams. It was pointed out to me several years ago by my sister that this song perfectly describes me as a child. Here is an eerily familiar stanza:

I was a kid that you would like, just a small boy on her bike

Riding topless, yeah, I never cared who saw.

My neighbor came outside to say, "Get your shirt,"I said "No way,

it's the last time I'm not breaking any law."

I remember wishing I had been born a boy. My closest neighbors were two boys, Rustin and Brandon Banks. Brandon and I formed the quinticenntial boy/girl best friendship as children. My only complaint ever was that Brandon cried too much. I was jealous of his toys and ability to only wear pajama pants to bed with no shirt. . . lucky. Of course that didn't stop me from trying, a fact that I think still bothers my mom. On Saturdays, we would get together to trade baseball cards and look up their value in a Beckett. I still own many of my Nolan Ryans, Bo Jacksons, and Mark McGuires from the early 90s. Then we were off to set up bike jumps off his deck, or race remote-control cars in the driveway. I even received an MVP award for my role as catcher on my all boys Baseball team in 4th grade. Ahh, being a boy was awesome.

(Brandon and I on the 1st day of school, as well as me as a young man)

What really boggles my mind is when I decided to become a girl??? Brandon had moved a few years earlier, and currently my best friend of choice was a very feminine girl named Claudia. (We are still friends, I was her maid of honor 3 years ago.) It would seem that I was undergoing a traditional Vada Sultenfuss ("My Girl" reference) transformation, but not really. It wasn't until my entrance into 7th grade that I made any significant strides into womanhood. I wore a skort (skirt/short combo) on the first day of junior high and voila, I liked "No Doubt," and "Alanis Morrisette," along with every other teenage girl in the universe. How odd.

Granted, I've never fully been able to shake my boyish interests. I played Softball (an acceptable girl alternative to Baseball, but tends to foster same-sex tendencies) and Basketball in high school. Much to my sister's disapproval, I get along with my brother-in-laws swimmingly. And, I enjoy working outside to cooking a meal.

Here are a few remnants of the "old me" that is still very alive in Chelsey 2.0:

Mom's House

This post is dedicated to my sister Lacy, who has been judging my mother since birth.

I love my mom. She's the best. She's pretty, which was oddly very important to me as a 1st grader. She's funny, which I realized as a teenager. i.e. Yesterday my sister and I spied the following quote from a conversation between my mom and her best friend via facebook (I'm dealing with the fact that she's on facebook), "No, I didn't fall off the map . . . just down the stairs" Ha. That's funny because she really did fall down the stairs during Christmas. So, the point is, I have a good mom. The following does not pertain to her abilities in that area.

My mother is a widow. Unlike the widows on my street (there are lots), she does not have any pets, and she certainly doesn't participate in neighborhood gossip, but in all honesty her house is weird. I guess the question for me is, when did it get so weird? Was I a child when this started happening or has her solitude brought on this idiosynchratic lifestyle? I think it's a little of both.

She keeps things.

I know all mothers are collectors in their own right. I am not bothered by the pictures of me as a child framed at every corner. . .I was adorable. Rather, there are artifacts left around from childhood that are now no longer usuable. The garage is full of Cabbage Patch dolls stuffed in garbage sacks. Most of them however, did not belong to her seven children, instead they were purchased by my aunt at garage sales and thrift stores in my teens. These ownerless dolls are now taking on the smell that only an abandoned naked toy can.

The other day, I picked up a magazine in her bathroom. A magazine in which I have the contents memorized. Not because I am thoroughly interested in "Country Living," but because it's been there forever. How long you say? February 1995.

She doesn't hang everything.

The house is cluttered with pictures. That's fine, that's her life. Of course, it is a little bothersome walking up the stairs, only to see a picture framed at the height of your ankle. Or, while turning on a light switch, inevitably knocking down another picture. But, at least it's hung. At the same time, every room is still full of pictures, in frames propped against walls or lying on a bench in the kitchen. This is such a problem that a few years ago at Christmas time, a plea was made among her children that no one give her anything that needs wall space. Like an intervention for a heroin addict, we can no longer be enablers.

She buys discount.

Now this is not a new behavior. Every year, we went back-to-school shopping at the Goodwill or other thrift stores. In recent years, my mom has turned to other kinds of discount shopping. Currently, her mecca is the local Big Lots. What a great store? Unfortunately it causes her to buy things that really should never be purchased. Quickly expiring cereal written in Japanese. DVDs that never reached theatres or Blockbuster. Popular candy, with an unpopular flavoring. i.e. bags of only Coffee-flavored Jelly Bellys. A real treat for the grandkids.

At the moment, she is obsessed with Pottery Barn items engraved with names of other people's children. The Down East Outfitters located near her house is the culprit. Recently they have been selling items that were created for someone else, but somehow were never picked up. The prayer stool by her bed reads, "Landon." The robe in her closet belongs to "Claudia." "Mariah" and "Madison" are certainly missing their Christmas stockings. None of the aforementioned names belongs to anyone in our family.

Truly, the list goes on. For now, I will leave it at that. The question is, do all mom's have quirky homes? Is my mom the only one draping sheepskins on the back of her couch? Will I one day inherit these peculiar aspects in my life? Am I already becoming this person?