A few of my favorite things.

1. Benefiber
Ok, I have tummy problems. And by problems, I mean every so often my stomach just says "Meh. Not feelin it," and decides not to digest anything for a few days. Then I'd end up feeling fat and slow, and wouldn't eat. This stuff fixed that issue right up.

2. Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea.
That broad is right up my alley. Cynical and hilarious.

3. Chocolate Chex
Addicting.

4. Dove Energy Glow lotion
Gives my pasty ass some color, without oompa loompa spots. Sorry, I just can't go au naturale. You know those people who have pale skin that's naturally creamy or has nice olive undertones? That's not me. I thank my German and Welsh ancestors and a red-haired dad for my translucent pink paleness.

5. The Black Keys and Metro Station
Two very different sounds, but both very pleasing to thine ears. [Black Keys are bluesy classic rock sounding; Metro Station is dancy pop sugar.]



Yep, all good stuff. I went on a self-gifting spree this week, for reasons unknown. I still haven't got my damned stimulus check, so it's surely not due to feeling monily endowed. I think I was just bored.

I ordered clearance clothes from Hollister (yes, I'm cheap when it comes to myself), a Callahan Auto Parts t-shirt (if you don't get it, you suck), and the latest Muse live CD/DVD (FREAKING ROCKS!).

So I'm basically getting one package in the mail per day, and that's something everyone loves receiving. "Oooh presents!" Bottom line is, I very rarely buy things for myself, so when I do it, I do it all at one time and basically make a holiday out of it. It makes me more humble.... like the way I get excited about the new loofah and tweezers I bought myself.

Last night I colored my hair MYSELF and it turned out fabulous, for the first time ever.

The thing I really went nuts on was ordering a whole bunch of home decor for the apartment. I love decorating, and don't know why I let our apartment go so naked for so long. I guess I was waiting until we got somewhere more permanent, and someplace we actually like. Then I realized, once we move somewhere more permenent that we actually like (Oregon), we will be poor college students, scraping by on top ramen and Pabst Blue Ribbon. So I might as well buy the decor now.

A sentimental sap timeout.

Every so often, the homesick bug comes out to play. It never truly goes away, but it comes to a boil sometimes. It's part of joining the military, or taking a job someplace far from home - and if you have the ability to up and move away from everything and everybody you know, and not feel a thing - you're weird. And probably void of all human emotion. Maybe even a little dead on the inside.

I joined the military because after a nightmare of a breakup, it became blindingly apparent to me that I needed a boot in my ass in order to get me motivated and have some initiative. Otherwise, for serious, I would still be loafing off my mom right now. 23 years old, drifting from dumb job to pointless job, scraping by on low cashflow and blowing it on cigarettes and Boone's Farm (like I pointed out a couple days ago). No plan on staying in to retire, climbing the rank ladder, or being some kind of patriotic hero. Just the bare minimum 4 years, get some free school, and get the hell out.

Everybody has different intentions when they join, and this is my metaphor for them - check it:

Think of your life as a VHS tape or something to that effect. Some people leave home in hopes that they can completely erase the tape, pick up a new identity, and leave everything else behind. People like myself join, pause the tape, and anxiously await the moment in 4 years when they can push play on it and join their regularly scheduled program already in process. I haven't figured out where people fit in that want to fast-forward the tape. I'll come up with that later.

You are supposed to magically pick up the best of new friends at every location you hop to. Either I'm a picky bitch, or I've been spoiled with having the best friends in the world back at home, but ummm.... this process is nearly impossible for me. I like the company of said friends, but it's getting to the point where I sit sullenly in the background, and it is all too apparent to me that I just do not fit in with these people. And these people are most definitely NOT Alex, Vid, Jayson, Buckel, and the like. There's just no comparison. And I am left looking like a boring unsocial bitch because I wont dance around suggestively with chicks, or participate in conversations about clit piercings and vibrators. It's kind of depressing. I am the odd one out for.... well, not being odd. With the exceptions of Smith and Debi, I can honestly say that if I packed up and headed west tomorrow, everybody else would simply be a fond memory I would look back upon and smile, but never get around to calling. Smith and Debi feel like home. I know I am holding these people to way too high of standards, and I apologize. I am the square peg.

I don't feel sorry for myself. These next 16 months are just an interruption to my favorite show, and I'm anxious to hit play and get back to it.