Ramblin' onnnnnn.....

This is the first time I've ever just CHATTED about....nothing, by myself. Actually, thats a lie....I was hired as a video blogger for CurrentTV.com to talk about dating and relationships (ha........ yeah, irony is what that's called) but the project has been put on hold....hm very curious to know whether or not that was because I had NO dates to do weekly updates on?? Oh man.

So here's a video blog, I may or may not ever do this again depending on how bored you are watching it. cheers to your mother.

HMM AND ONE FINAL, Idol and No Idol, hm. DILEMMA......

Love goes 'round and 'round

My equilibrium has been a little thrown off it's CENTER. Like a kid who can't get enough of the merry-go-round, I am staggering with dizziness.

The Ex has entered the picture again. Oh yes. We're a human version of a merry-go-round, a love-go-round if you will. I debated whether or not to write about this, alas, I continue to expose myself and flash you my glistening wounds and intimate details to my intimate world wide web. I'm so shy.

In case you weren't reading when we cut ties, I'll give you an update, in a very, tiny, minuscule nutshell of course: The Ex and I were on off, on off, crazy in love, crazy disappointed with each other, on the same page and then magically in completely separate books- in different languages, for a long time. Divine timing was giving us no blessings ever. One was always one step ahead while the other was fifteen steps behind.

The last I thought we were on the same page, we were not. I was going to move to Seattle to take that big old leap head first into all things looove and when I received a phone from him saying it "wasn't a good idea....but we'll talk later." I was, needless to say, quite crushed. But not nearly as crushed as I would be when we just never. called. back. Ever, only to get back together with a girl he'd only been dating a couple months.

I'd never experienced such soaring highs of love or such deep pain from a person in my life.

When I received the latest email from him with an, "I'm really sorry for what I did." It was the largest ton of bricks off of my heart. It filled a vacant, black hole with at least some peace and clarity. He went on to explain, or try to, where he was at. Trying to make me understand.

I do forgive him. Everyone thinks that's "insanity". Most of my friends said I should give him the big finger and a "have a nice life" email. But I don't deal with people that way, especially not people who I've loved so much I would jump in front of a bus for them, if they asked me to. A small bus of course.

I've been wearing this Energy Muse necklace that my mom got for me 10 days ago exactly. The necklace is made up of different stones meaning different things, it's blessed and created with an intention and is supposed to be worn for ten days.....the meaning of my necklace- attraction in love.

Day #4-7 I heard from him, we reopened the lines of communication. Day #7 the cat we had, that had disappeared a year ago, returned. Strange getting that phone call, "we have your cat...." My cat? what? Day #9 I see his old best friend.

Day #10......I can't stop thinking about him.

So what now? I've released any anger, I've been given some peace of mind and a long awaited apology. Is this what closure looks like? Should I be feeling some sort of relief that now I can start dating with barely visible scars and no signs of bitterness? Are we supposed to go back to being strangers or are we supposed to try and be friends??

If this is it, why can't I manage to keep him out of my head for more than 10 minutes......

How to BE Single

Single women, it's time we start revamping our "image."

Single women, like a firefighter or a nurse, a policeman or a cowboy....have a "costume" too. Sure, we don't strap on our orthopedic shoes or our best set of chaps but we do wrap ourselves in a little cocoon of energy that's just as much of a display as wearing a set of Sesame Street scrubs would be.

Single women can be broken up into two basic categories, with various shades to differentiate them.

1. The single woman who is perfectly happy and content being single, loves the single life, doesn't enjoy cuddling or someone "spooning her while she sleeps" and has "never had a dream of a wedding as a kid." Her image of security in "self" is enviable to those on the other end of the spectrum....some often wonder, if she full of shit? Hm, whatevs, we all do what we need to do when we're in survival mode.

2. Then there's the single woman who, cannot stop talking about why the eff she's single?? She stares longingly at couples who display quirks of affection, like reminding him while shopping at the grocery store together, that he's out of shaving cream and she wonders how much percentage wise they love each other, 80%? 92/12%? This single girl wants nothing more than to not be single.

I'd like to think that I'm a varying degree of both and I lay somewhere in the middle. Often looking like a Viking and other times looking/sounding like a complete frenzied unstable ball of desperation, giving off "love me, love me" to anyone who bothers to look in my direction...then he gets closer and (most of the time) I realize....

I'm not desperate enough to love someone disingenuously. If it's not the most sincere, rawest, truest form of love, it's nothing. I don't need anymore person to complete me, I already am....but shouldn't we be given that outlet to express LOVE?.....

When I came across Liz Tucillo's book "How to Be Single" I knew I needed the lesson. Having already felt semi-enlightened by her other book "He's Just Not That Into You" which is still like new testament of the Bible to me, I knew there would be some gems that would stick. At least until I got wrapped up in one of my "moments" and starting kicking and screaming like a little girl, which I'm known to do when it seems, "fit."

Rather than letting people ask you, "Why are you single?" and then letting that question bury itself into our minds like a tick, growing with each dateless evening, single holiday and wasted plus one's. Right now it's a fact, I am single....but, how am I single?

How do you deal, how to carry yourself....how do you think of yourself. The question isn't WHY, but how to BE, single.

Thus far being bitter or questioning, an unwilling "victim" to loneliness hasn't bode well for me. Getting to the point where you start to say, "well maybe....." to someone you've said NO to for a long time, means you've let the settling sneak its way in.

Here are some of Liz' rules on how to be, single:

1.Make sure you have friends
2. Don't be crazy, no matter how you feel- because it makes us all look bad.
3. Decide what you believe in, then behave accordingly.
4. Get Carried AWAY......
5. Figure out the whole sex thing- when you want it, how to do it, who to do it with. *****
6. Make peace with the statistics, because there really isn't anything we can do about them.
7. Admit that sometimes you feel desperate.
8. There's really so few people that have it all, so try not to bother with that whole envy thing.
9. Not to put pressure on you, but start thinking about the whole motherhood thing. (shit.)
10. Remember that sometimes there are more important things that you and your lousy love life AND get your friends more involved with helping you with lousy love life. ( YEAH, COME ON GUYS.....I'm all for a good matchmaker.)
11. Believe in Miracles.

So tell me, how are YOU single?......or, how were you single?

BEFORE YOU THINK ABOUT PLAGIARIZING......

......remember, that I will call you out. And I am crazy.

Returning home to emails telling me of people on the Internet who have been xeroxing my words from my AWAKENING post, as their own was not a very pleasing, "welcome back to the Internet world!"

My farewell from NYC was sad....and cut short due to flying standby (which blows, btw.) I managed to eat more than one cupcake, and pack up six months worth of stuff and carry it all down 6 FLIGHTS of stairs, and by carry I mean....I almost died 25 times while throwing 75 pound bags down 6 flights of steep stairs. I managed to only FALL down the stairs a total of 2 times. AND, I didn't break any ankles, instead I just broke the handle of my suitcase at flight number 4. Which made things extra interesting. This is also where I proceeded to BAWL and say, out loud, "WHYYYY GOD, WHYYY AM I SINGLE???!!! This is where boyfriends helllpppp...WAAAAAAAA"

Oh, yeah. I expect someone to write that into their next romantic comedy, then insert a "meet cute" where at that exact moment, a dashing man turns the corner and offers to help with her bags. Obviously, they go on to get engaged and have a series of bickering fights and perfect comedic timing, that ends at 2 hours and 15 minutes in a extravagant wedding with a Dana Glover song playing in the background.

That didn't happen to me, since, I live in real life.

So I'm back and here's to you plagiarizer, don't ever, ever do it again:

Oh Mia, Mia,

Needless to say I was NOT in the least bit happy when I received an email yesterday notifying me of being PLAGIARIZED. ah......Sure, maybe I should be flattered? That someone would take, literally, WORD FOR WORD, my thoughts, my ideas, my opinions and claim them as their own. Then I realized that I wasn't flattered but just sad for you, that you aren't proud of your OWN words, your OWN thoughts, etc enough to share them.

You didn't simply take an idea, but my exact WORDS. EXACT. Other than the fact that it is completely morally WRONG, I find it particularly disappointing because writing is MY LIFE. It's how I make my living and it's how I express myself, so for someone to blatantly take my livelihood and share it with their friends to seem original, it quite disappointing.

Obviously you aren't new to this, since LoraLee tipped me off and the sad part is, had she not, I would have never known....and you would have continued. Shame on you Mia. I expect an apology and a retraction and if you fail to do so, I have absolutely no problem handling this legally.

I hope that from this you have learned to trust your OWN words and your own voice. After all, I can't imagine it feels good to xerox someone else's mind and claim it as your own, because you know the truth.

-Chelsea Talks Smack

Say yes......

As a writer, you're often put into the role of observer.

You're sitting back finely picking a label for every moment. You remember a quirk in someones voice, the placement of wrinkles on faces and a fleeting look of disappointment or adoration. Your food isn't just a taste but a variation of distinct smells and spices, you name the texture and mentally note the description on the menu. One color turns into thirty different shades of red, so when you tell your story you're able to describe that the cherry was actually a deep Burgundy rather than a crimson. Being that it was burgundy the reader knows that this particular cherry was especially plump, a good batch of juiciness, less tart than others.

Remembering the details are essential keys to telling the story, for giving someone a vision and transporting them there.

As an observer, it's easy to find that you've stepped outside of the moment and now you're are telling the story as someone who has only really halfway, lived it.
It's just as a person with a camera, ready to capture each laugh, or each moment of romance. When romance is actually something very personal and captivating, so much in fact that that intimacy is rarely caught (genuinely) in a photograph. In order to do that, you must be observing the moment.

I've stepped away from my computer for the last few days, without the expectation that I would have to "produce" something later for people to read. Instead I went about my life without expecting for a story to come about worthy of telling.

Friday night, my cousin, father and my uncle decided to go out for dinner in a random location, at a restaurant we've never been to. As we were walking down the street we were beckoned into a small, brightly lit art gallery with incredible paintings of musicians and athletes. Bright colors and bright personalities. Being that you aren't invited into gallery openings with cheese and red wine all that often, we kindly obliged. Only moments after stepping in we ended up having a conversation with the artist who, it turns out, is very much a kindred spirit. We spoke of energy and creation, freedom, travel, artistry, dreaming and achieving etc....we shared the same philosophy on life, indeed. Within half and hour we had not only been surrounded by a world renowned artist but had made a new friend, shared stores and I was then offered to sing at the restaurant next door before I left for Europe at their Thursday night jam sessions. Jazz, blues, and soul, in a room of people emitting good energy and many of whom are living their dreams.
The whole point was, when you (meaning me at this/that moment) start saying "yes" to the moments that you "stumble upon" or to the doors that are open, sometimes literally, the stories happen organically.

The rest of the weekend I stepped away from the computer and continued living without expectation of magical moments or with expectation of relaying back hysterical one liners. I hiked five miles, enjoyed a picnic on top of a mountain and later spent hours chatting up an old rock cover band at a saloon and throwing out requests for Fleetwood Mac. I don't have pictures of any of it.....but as a person with an impeccable memory, I also managed to live in it and store enough to retell the basics.

I'm headed back to NYC tonight for four days. Four days of packing up my things, leaving my barely-there apartment and my favorite restaurants. To enjoy truffled egg toast, long lunches and sugary cupcakes, followed by long aimless walks and midday mimosas. To share drinks with new friends and old friends and say goodbye, at least until Dec when I'm back from my "little" journey.

I've decided to leave my computer in Colorado, to give full attention to my last days in New York City. Undivided, complete attentiveness to the moments I'm in. Until then......

What doors are open for you to say "YES" to??? Have you said yes???

Preservatif????

Call it the symptom of a writer, or a tortured artist, or what have you in the laundry list of cliches, but I am an insomniac. Truly.

The irritating part? I'm not the type of insomniac whose productive. For instance; "I'm not going to sleep so hey, maybe I'll clean" (fuck that, I work better with THINGS scattered about), or hey, I'm going to create a budget for my BIG ASS trip, since I tend to have no concept of money and time. Or either freestanding. They are the least of my concerns as I like to soak in whatever it is I'm doing, which is why I have found a way to remain mostly plan less the past two years. Which has worked out rather productively.

So now that there is a plan on the horizon....holy gigantour balls, there are times when I feel the onslaught of a minor case of tourettes and insanity.

Naturally, when I should be thinking about all of the logistical things like....oh, where I plan on sleeping- instead of spending half of my sleep time on overnight trains (which may not be a terrible idea, if I learn some Judo and buy dry shampoo), but I would also like to get some foreign ass while in Europe, (since my luck as of late would have science calling me "reverginized.") and I'd like to smell like sugar cookies and lilacs while "doing it."

Which brings me to what I've been thinking about, instead of the things that will prevent me from blowing my money on a Hermes scarf:

How many (if any) condoms do you take with you on a really long trip like this? I've already looked up how to say "condom" in foreign languages just in case "RUBBER" gets lost in translation, but I imagine that in the throws of passion "preservativo" may slip my mind and also knock down about 50 sexy points... meanwhile, something else slips and bam I come back with a little Portuguese baby. We'd have a problem.
Sorry for my very revealing visual, but this is a serious concern. Do you pack them? Carry one next to your passport, your whistle and your "emergency" cash? Or do you avoid all temptation and play "lesbian" or "nun in training on mission, headed to the Vatican. After I take my shot of ouzo."

I think not.

Also, while I could have been scouring travel books for exchange rates, safety tips, and a bevy of useful information....I decided to write on my hand (since paper would have been wasteful, I'm going green) what LIQUOR each country specializes in. Since obviously, I'd need to reminisce about my new found whoriness over native cocktails.

The other 50% of my time, my mind thinks about cake. Since, I have an obsession with it.

Most people wake up in the morning and think about brushing their teeth, stretching, saying hello to Jesus, "thanks for the day, don't hit me with any cars." But no, I....often trump all of the above (teeth brushing included) with my distraction for anything covered in icing.

Basically, all I'm saying...is that, if the rest of my time goes on like this, prepare to read tales of disaster and drunk blogging while overseas, oh and meet my French baby, Mirette.

To ease my mind, any pastries, liquors or.....men (other than the statue of David, been there done that), that I should know about???

LONDON! LONDON!

There's nothing quite like deleting phone numbers from your cell phone to affirm that you are completely companion less. When you realize that you've held onto people who are now essentially strangers to you, for a long time, and you decide to "delete" them, you have officially opened up space to start anew- maybe that's dramatic and slightly sad, but sometimes you have to do it. It's the emo version of chopping off your hair for "change."

And anew is surely what I have ahead me....

With all of your "votes" and an organized tallying system (that's the analytical and slightly obsessive side of me taking over), I pulled out my debit card, picked a date, randomly and bought my ticket to London. I bought a fucking ticket to London?! A non-refundable, solo, ticket to London. I basically took "my" destiny by the horns and yanked its little tough head, eyes pointed across the seas and said, this is where we're going buddy.

This is what I do, I formulate some idea, I let it marinate in my mind and my though process and then I turn it into this humongous life sized reality. I make what start as tiny ideas into tangible experiences, even if that isn't always the best thing.

Thus far my mind has been "made up" and thus MADE UP, quite literally, experiences/stories, that could have stayed in my head had I not taken the leap and it has taken me to;

Los Angeles where I lived for three years and experienced everything under the twisted/warped little L.A. moon. I sang on stages with full bands, I auditioned endlessly and I was defeated and triumphant all in one. I lived alone and learned my Independence, I taunted my fears and squashed them. I said "yes" almost always, to almost anything and I developed toughness, without losing my tenacity and spirit....I developed a resilience and was reminded of my inherent strength and love for what I do.

My mind has let me LOVE completely and fully and taken me to Seattle with everything and nothing to lose, where in the end I did lose, though was reminded again that "to love" as in an action, is the best feeling.

Then....as a result my mind took me straight across to New York City, where I have interned for one of the best women's magazines and where I ultimately starting freelancing for another incredible celebrity magazine. Where I opened my heart to new faces and friends, flavors and liquors. Where almost everything whether it was booze or fancy cheese came in excess, only to be followed by long walks and aching feet.

I have lived in two of the greatest cities, I have had/have the GREATEST jobs and the best part.....this is only the beginning. I finally, decided.

My mind is on an insane roller coaster of "creation" right now creating stories (that you all will get to read) happening all over; London, Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Barcelona, Paris, Florence, Greece, Stockholm, Budapest, Prague, Dublin, Brussels, Berlin, Zurich, Malta, Croatia, Edinburgh, and wherever else I manage to squeeze in.

THANK YOU THANK YOU, to all of you sent me your suggestions, expect MANY, MANY more stories....PLUS, I'll need you all to send me your thoughts on where to go/what to do while I exercise my freedom to GO. and do all of the things I've wanted to. How fitting that I bought my ticket the day after 4th of July......ahhhh to be free.

This plane departs in Sept, until then we shall resume to your regular programming of- often irrational, frequently inappropriate, mostly single, always up for dessert, slightly tipsy and insane Chelsea Talks Smack.

You Know You're Drunk When....

**Note** In regards to the last blog post, expect an update/decision soon(ish), until then....get your drink on.

YOU KNOW YOU'RE DRUNK WHEN......

1. You start high fiveing people with a "WOO!"
   
2. You are convinced you can get Mcdonalds to DELIVER. (yes. I've done this.)
   
3. You sing "I Touch Myself" and start touching yourself- at a karaoke bar.
4. You revert to "baby talk." This often comes out while someone holds your hair. (which is another reason you know you're drunk)
   
5. You pee on your friends shoe, while peeing in a bush, in your friends lawn.
   
6. You break out the jump splits!
7. You tell your mother Taco Bell is your, "favoooorrrrite ressssshhhhhstttrrraaaunnnnttt."
8. You flash your boyfriend/husbands friends your coot and say, "TOTAAALLLY BARE!!"
9. You cry in a public bathroom.
10. You NEEEEED pizza, or you just. might. diiiiie.
11. You wake up the next day with someone named Mamound's (?) cell phone number dialed in your phone.
    
12. Your alter ego "Angelina Jolie in Original Sin" takes over your bedroom
13. You're willing to break and enter into a liquor store to "get more PATRRROOON!!!"
14. The phrase, "I love you maaaann" comes out, several times. To several strangers.
15. You think the table is your stage and YOU are Beyonce at the Grammys.
    
16. You kick off your heels in the parking lot
17. You're willing to forgo someones BUSTED grill for a good make-out session.
18. You repeatedly tell everyone your timeline of how long you've known everyone, "We've been beshttt friends sincssshhh 2nd grade!!"
    
19. You give everyone around you a nickname. "Yo! Jdizzzzzzllllleeee!"
    
20. You're drinking Corona's at home but are out of limes, so go to the bar next door and ask for, "just a wedge or two."
21. You become your own personal pimp, pimping your BEST GIRL-you.
    
22. You start taking pictures and instead of saying CHEESE you say in unison, "Myspaaaaccce!"
23. At some point in the evening you resort to crawling instead of walking.
    
24. A friendly game of wrestling turns into, "I'm gonna fuck up your mother brah!"
25. You text someone, "hammrd nakdnes is my midle naaaame." I have RECEIVED (not sent) this text.
26. You attempt stealing large important objects during business hours i.e. pianos, planters, valet signs, kayaks.
27. You get a tattoo of a butterfly/rose/fairy above your va-jay
28. You think you have Olympic athleticism and wanna compete in a race, to the vending machine.
29. You think a Nutrigrain bar will suffice as "bread" to, "soak up the liquuuuorrrr."
30. You tell the Ethiopian cab driver, "I was black in another life. Bro."
    
31. You openly admit owning every 98 Degrees album.
32. You spend money on shots like you're dipping into Donald Trump's bank account.
33. Your acquaintances are your "new best friend!" and you, "Wanna tell 'em a seecreeeeettt..."
    

FILL IN THE BLANK: You know you're drunk when __________________