Monday, February 28, 2011

Love, promises, rambling; is Chelsea in Love again, WTF? Ambiguity is awesome.



Hey you, eventually I'll start calling you "Mister," cause that's my way of making you more than a friend and making you a "thing," but for now you're just "you,"
you're the next one who makes my heart jump into my throat when you say, "My Girl," when telling your friends something about me that makes you light up with pride.
Hey, so I'm going to go into this and do it "right," I'm willing to work through the muck, to open my heart and to be more of a dream, than a nightmare....and when we're in the dark together, let's grab hands and fumble to find a match. Look, I have some "things..." we all do, right? Let's start of with this, this is my foundation of what I want to be to you; I will be the most loyal, the most open-hearted, the most sensual, brave and supportive lady you could ask for... I promise not to stop challenging you, or listening to you....I promise to honor your higher-self and I promise to never stop seeing you, so I have a simple request, can you promise me a couple things too?

Please promise to make me feel safe. Sometimes I'll do things that you won't like, but when you start to question them, if you're wondering, if you need a reminder remember this; I probably didn't mean that mean thing that I said, and I'm sorry. When you're having a hard time apologizing, surprise candy and "grand gestures," like showing up when I'm not expecting you to, always work (blame it on the romantic comedies that taught us that's what he'll do if he really means it, the "trek," the standing in the pouring rain, the throwing rocks at windows, or showing up at that-certain-place-only-he-knows-you-go-to gets us every time.) Be nice to my little sister, be protective of her- dislike her boyfriends before you like them.
If I say, "do you want to go to (insert family function here)...." just say, "yes..." your bond with them, is just as important as your bond with me. Learn my "ticks," the sounds and the motions I make before I'm going to explode, feel my energy. Even though I'm not going anywhere, I kind of like it when you get jealous from time to time.....he was flirting with me, that should bother you, I am that valuable. I want you to flourish, and I want you to want the same for me....when I seem uber-excited about a project, let me ramble- act like you care until you actually do, you caring about my "shine," makes me feel safe to be the brightest Peacock on the block, knowing that you aren't threatened or disconnecting.

If you need space, cool- we just need to have a "disconnect-reconnect" script, this is part of what stabilizes the foundation of trust, knowing that no one is running out. Faithfulness, always. faithfulness. THIS is one of my boundaries...and it will always be, can you respect me enough to honor that?

When I say, "what are you thinking?" I really just want you to tell me something, I want a peek into your private thoughts, the personal ones, even if they don't apply to me at all- I promise not to ask for you to keep that secret door open all the time, but if I knock- please let me in? Its just me... and I come in peace, I won't abuse the All-Access pass. Can we agree on no secrets, no secrets that are about US, that directly affect the evolution and health of our relationship....I promise that I won't keep any from you, so in return, please guard them?

Sometimes I'll need you to tell me, unsolicited how fucking awesome, sexy, desirable and amazing I am- no matter how secure I am- I just need this sometimes, or maybe I don't "need" it, but I like it, so I think I'm allowed to "need" something I like. I'll need you to make me feel like the most important, cherished woman in your life, next to your Mom......I really want you to love your Mom, so do that too, k?

I need you to remind me to eat something before we drink, this is more for your sake than mine, trust. Sometimes ill ask you the same question twenty different ways, probably because you didn't tell me what I wanted to hear; which is usually, "I love you, ill protect you, I'm not going anywhere. You're hotter."

Please be kind.

Am I safe, 100 percent to be me? Like all the bad, shitty parts too? Please don't shut down, even if its not about me, I take it personally, this is a classic characteristic of a neurotic, so, just tell me where you're at so that I can respect your boundaries and process.
If you're wondering if you should call, you probably should.

BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD. Words are important to me, and showing that you honor your words, means showing action.

So here's some of my things, the ones that aren't desirable, the ones that are probably exhausting, but I'm aware of them- I KNOW, I need to work through these....can you learn to be okay with that?

I'm terrified of it all being take away from me before I can really enjoy it. Sometimes, I feel like I'm waiting for the shoe to drop. I have a crippling fear of dying before my idea of "my time"- my feelings get hurt, much easier than you'd suspect. Part of how I get people to "like me" is by acting like I don't really care if they do- even after that, I still feel like they don't. I'm afraid that I'm disposable. When he says, "you're the most precious thing in my whole world" I'm afraid that it'll be the last time he says it and it'll be the last day I'm in fact the "most" anything to him, because someone else will be introduced to him and then ill be an afterthought. I know, it seems like "a lot," sometimes it is...I'm working on it.

No matter how good I feel about myself, I fear I may not be pretty enough for everyone else in order for me to accomplish my dreams to the level I imagine. If I think my "best" is good enough, they may not agree. I worry that I'll always be misunderstood. "BORING" attached to me, or anything that I do throws me into a panic. Sometimes I fear you'll change your mind, or forget how much you love me? I'm really trying to stop doing that, can you respect my process?

There's a "dance" in love, one where both have to learn to interpret on anothers steps before we make the next move, but when we're safe- after accidentally stepping on some toes, we learn to fill in the space, trade-off who "leads," surrender to the push and the pull.... and then, sway in the space when we meet, chest to chest- heart to heart, toe to toe and to breathe in the connection. Will you dance with me?

I'm turning my "worrier" into a "Warrior" (thank you KC), I recognize that I have a CHOICE over how I feel; anxious, alone, fearful and while it isn't always easy I'm actively trying to choose the higher emotion, FIGHTING IS GOOD- I need to know that you aren't afraid of explosive emotions, heavy discussions- while I don't want them to be a focal point, or a constant, they will happen- we are two people with two different minds, different expectations....staying instead of running when there's a fight makes us warriors together, instead of apart, which ultimately- MAKES US STRONG. RESILIENT. ROOTED AND ETERNAL, it takes our love from shallow to "forever."

I will do my best not to be defensive, I will not throw your/our past in your face, I will let go of the need to "be right," I will learn to take, "I don't know" as an answer until you DO know.....I will always, always think you're the sexiest- I will remember your Mother's birthday, I will fill in your weak spots and let you fill in mine, I will make you smile and laugh-everyday, I will be your best fan/groupie/cheerleader, I will be "on fire," in my life and I will share it with you and visa versa, I will grow and explore with and without you, knowing at the end of the day, you're my guy and we're in it together. I will accept your eccentricities and and I will admire, respect, adore and melt for you....always.



What are some of your "LOVE" boundaries?


Thursday, February 17, 2011

Valentines update: Oh heyyy, happiness? Where ya been?


OH LAWWWWDDDDD....

You know what happens when you quit your job and you start three new ones, while also settling into your new rhythm and what the fuck to eat for breakfast now that office snacks are gone? What happens is, you have laser beam focus for a solid 72 hours, you put on soap operas for background noise, you power through and then you realize, (three days later) you've neglected incredibly important day-to-days; bathing, reading blogs, writing blogs, uhhh shaving, calling your best friend about "that thing with the condom and oh shit, I have so many things to tell her, I'll call her later after my brain explodes." Amongst other important things that a sane person does.


All that to be said, I'm FINDING MY WAY. I'm not just dancing to a different beat, except for I'm deciding which instruments I really want to use and in what capacity, then learning how to "do the dance," with all my own moves, straight up creation central.

Friday, my last day, when I went to my car after my incredible colleagues wished me well with brews and advice like, "As long as you don't encounter Charlie Sheen in Hollywood, you'll be golden!" I discovered my car was broken into; shattered glass, a missing iPod and a missing makeup bag (right?) I could have cried, or mourned my various palettes of Mac eyeshadow, but instead.....I waved goodbye to my colleagues, drove an hour in the cold, sans window, glass dangerously scattered in pretty pieces all over my seat, I cranked up my stereo, and thought, you said you wanted NEW, well, you're getting new, sister. Something about the absurdity of it all made my smile, a genuine GRATEFUL grin.

...the next day, I took myself out for champagne, Red Velvet Cheesecake, a Burlesque show, a mani/pedi and I enjoyed the extra breeze. On Sunday, when I received a call that my Mac computer wasn't salvageable after water damage and it was, "time to buy a new machine...." I said, "Thank you Sir," and proceeded to make myself an impeccable dinner, while dancing my new dance moves, sans music, the song in my head had a happy enough tune to try out some of that new SPRING in my step; you said you wanted NEW, well, you're getting new, sister.

.....when I caught myself clutching onto my phone waiting for my ex to call on Valentines Day, I caught myself- YOU were all out there doing it, honoring yourselves, smiling inwardly and whistling at the sexy thing in the mirror and I had my hand halfway down a box of Special K, out of milk and watching back episodes of Basketball Wives until 2pm. THEN, I pulled it together....read all of your amazing tweets, posts, encouragement and thought, "Woman up Chelsea, what's the matter with you?!" and BAM, twenty minutes later I was cooing at the entire Nordstrom's staff over my brand new Michael Kors heels and handing out my blog address to my new friends who were also single-shoe-medicating. Look, I'm not even a SHOE GIRL, but these shoes, on this day, for whatever reason had me prancing out of the store with a new swagger. I scored a new vintage dress and tipped into a swanky lounge for a full order of truffle oil Mac & Cheese and dessert and you know what happened? The grip on my phone loosened, I wasn't WAITING for anything, or anyone... because I had arrived. Best Party Ever, table for one, thanks.

While I was in yoga today I thought about the stuff, the things that would usually yank me into dark-twisty-chelsea, the things that needed fixing, schedules that needed cramping and while bending and cracking open my chest cavity, opening my heart, tipping it upside down and toppling over, I felt 100% rooted in love, gratitude and.....woa, shit is that.....happiness? I lifted my heart to the sky, closed my eyes and thought; you wanted NEW, well, you're getting new, sister.

My friends, my family, my skin, the people who shoot up my daily caffeine intake at the Buck, have all noticed the lightness in my spirit, they "hear it in my voice." I can genuinely, with the tenacity of a thousand gem-bellied-trolls hopped up on pure cane sugar, say that I AM HAPPY. HAPPY. I had to type it twice since the word has missed gracing these pages.

And with happiness, comes gratitude- I could say it every single time I write something, but I am grateful for you- for sifting through my gibberish, for connecting, for sharing your stories with me- for revisiting your broken hearts and handing your mended ones in my direction for encouragement. Every email, every comment, tweet, post- I read them all and want to individually grab you all and give you a be SMACK on the cheek, a lip smack of course. Thank you Valentines Warriors who participated, spread the word and treated yourself:



The winner of the giveaway for goes to Twiggles and Sweeney, she'll be receiving cookies from Bitter Baking Company, a t-shirt from Dressing on the Side, goodies from the heart warriors at Pink Kisses, and a basket of stuff from MOI.


BACK TO REGULAR, SIGNIFICANTLY HAPPIER PROGRAMMING SOON......
I love you all. xo.

*Read another one of my guest posts on LOVE, here.


What does "HAPPY" feel like to you?

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Then Chelsea ran off with the circus, left her life on the side of the street and started wearing rhinestones, every day. Almost.


It started with a couch.


This, overstuffed, double-wide, "Opium Den" couch, the kind of couch that deserves a name...a couch that has welcomed visitors and lulled them into a restful sleep, a couch that's wrapped itself around little bodies crumpled up in a fit of Pinot Grigio and Sara Bareilles induced tears and nostalgia, a couch that's encouraged friends to "sit still and stay awhile...." that's given room for friends to nestle up to one another, clutching onto each others knees and chatting about what they imagine their most "perfect scenario" would be, after they spilled every detail of their latest sexscapade and all the uncomfortable bits; unfamiliar body terrain and noises and a couch that's let strangers sit on opposite ends comfortably enough to relax and make a connection.......or in other cases, a couch that's been forgiving enough to let two seemingly damaged individuals "put it all aside for the night," imagine it never happened, order in Sesame Chicken and brush the fuzzies away from each others temples while watching The Breakfast Club for the first and the thousandth time.

Yeah...that's the kind of couch that deserves a name. But I never named her. Instead, I hugged her goodbye and I left her on the side of the street.


While I desperately NEEDED to get out of my previous situation (just SIX short months ago) away from memories of "him" and "us," into something that was solely MINE, something that would force me to get out of bed in the morning and engage with the world, I realized somewhere between nesting, watering newly planted roots and piling up Happy Hours with new friends, while navigating around the buzzing Startup community, in a growing company, with a desired job...that I was living someone's life that wasn't mine and wasn't guiding me in the direction of the life that WAS "perfectly made for me" and that I needed to get out before I took a literal saw to the couch and set it all on fire.


I looked around, one night at all my lovely things; the shabby chic coffee table that's paint was chipping off the corners, where coffee stains had easily made their way into circular patterns on the mint green paint, permanently, the love seat that I'd try to disappear into when I needed to "feel small," and the corner bookcase with books that had guided and inspired me....and then, the couch, THE COUCH, I looked at it all and thought, "It needs to go. It needs to go and so do I." I know, drama case....but don't worry, it DOES get more dramatic....

At some point while deciding that I was now a minimalist, ME, a girl who enjoys STUFF....while manically throwing my furniture and a significant amount of my clothing on the street.....

.... I also decided to quit my job.


It just seemed like the right choice. It wasn't JUST the furniture, just the town, or just the job....it was really just ME. Sounds sort of like a bad breakup line, but as bad as the line may be, sometimes that's just the truth. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect scenario, really; built-in support, built-in friends, a tailor made schedule, mentors, a radical job, amazing people....a town that looks like Santa Claus and all other fabled creatures probably spent romantic weekends roaming it's streets before they were a full blown fairytale. Where people practically have a direct line to Buddha, or the Maharishi, or Shirley MacLaine (hi, weird SEO searches) and they'll probably welcome you into their home, make you a green smoothie that makes your skin glow, and then give you a back massage while reading your horoscope and spoon feeding you cous cous. All lovely, all great...all just......not. quite. right. for me, right now.


I'd fled "us," only to find that I'd also fled a major part of ME. The Chelsea who used to write songs and confidently jump on stage when there was a free mic and a free moment for the spotlight. I'd left behind the Chelsea who knew what she imagined her future would look like, even if she didn't know how she was going to get there.....The Chelsea who didn't need approval, or a hectic social life to feel like a motherfucking rockstar. The Chelsea who was scrappy enough to "make it happen," to keep asking, to show up, to be in the right place at the right time and to pour just enough gasoline on the fire to keep hustling. The Chelsea who left a suitcase packed by the door, who made travel plans and dreamed up superstar apparitions.

...I'm sort of the, "throw your furniture on the street, quit your job and risk losing your friends and THEN FIGURE IT OUT" kind of girl and sure enough, that philosophy always works out for me.


Not only does it work out.....it transcends any idea I would've come up, because I wouldn't have believed in enough magic for it all to "work out," but I DID have the seed of the belief and that seed was just enough faith to leap before I knew how to operate the parachute.

Starting Friday, I will be back on the gypsy trail and back on a path that makes me feel like I'm coated in gold glitter and perma-grinning while dancing to a Robyn song on repeat in my head. I have a few opportunities on the line that could be life changing and trips/potential moving plans to LA, NYC and SF and I've taken on some incredible freelance gigs that give me both mobility, freedom and creative license, with more than enough time for me to pursue the things I adore, with GUSTO, even if that means spending hours upon hours meeting my muse, digging for inspiration or doing semi-pointless creative projects just to see if I CAN. If it means napping until 1, or eating olives all day while learning the art of calligraphy, then so be it. I know that right now, it's the right choice for me.


So, here's to honoring the little voice that tells you to leap.......Cheers loves.




What's your next adventure???

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Because Revolutions Are SEXY......


[Disclaimer: This started as an email to a couple of my close single girlfriends, then I was going to share via Twitter....until someone said, "Annnnd...why isn't this a blog post again?]

It's almost that time of the year when people are sending each other love notes inscribed on chalky candy hearts, where elaborate plans are made, dresses purchased, waxes scheduled.....

...oh yes, it's almost Valentines Day. Huzzah!

Turns out this year, I won't be doing my usual concert/dinner date like I have the last two years, cuddled up to that fuzzy man I loved so much; I won't have someone go out of their way to paint me anything with charming anecdotes about all the reasons he loves me, (yes that happened and you can stop feeling sorry for me now) and I won't have anyone gaze into my eyes and say they, "can't imagine a life without me..." those things aren't on the agenda. I probably won't make love by candlelight, or try acting like sex in a hot tub is fun either (because it's just not, trust, I have a scar to prove it.)

So sure, this year may be different- but you won't see this chick wearing black and crying into a bottle of whiskey, no no- you will however, see this chick wearing silky dress, tightly constricting my-ever-bodacious-and-sexy bodayyy, perhaps even some sparkles in various places and a new shade of pink lipstick (pink is the new red, get into it) who knows- MAYBE I'LL GET CRAZY AND CURL MY HAIR- this year I may not be dressing for someone, but I am dressing for ME- This year instead of drinking lovers spit, or crying while slow-dancing (shut up, I've done this) to "Trapeze Swinger," I'm instead going to cry in to a glass of champagne, and I'm going to cry some happy tears; for my health, for my shine, for my family and my friends, for the love that I've been shown over the last 6 months that wasn't romantic, but was still unconditional and pure. Instead of feeling the void, I want you to cry into a glass of champagne for the suckahh that chose to live his life without you, because he's the one who's going to be looking for a discount-date before the sun sets on the 14th, while you , yes you amazing Goddess Princess, are going to be out, celebrating. Sans the risk of a puss-filled and itchy STD, or that "coyote-ugly" moment. Yeah, no thanks.

We will celebrate that we didn't have to buy fancy lingerie for anyone to see other that US, we'll dip into a souffle and a cheese plate and go home, to an empty bed that's indentation is only for ONE; one WHOLE, HUMAN, AND THAT IS YOU. She will celebrate her indulgences, her feminity, she'll place her hand on the curve of her belly and the nape of her neck...and she will cherish those things, because she's the only one who's lucky enough to enjoy them. She will celebrate that she didn't simply STOP loving, because someone stopped loving her; in fact, she loves herself a hell of a lot more now. She will NOT and I repeat WILL NOT; drunk text, cry in public, sneer at happy couples, 'boycott the whole fucking thing,' or say, "why me?" You know why it was you, SISTER here's why; because, perhaps this year you need to, ahem, yes, SPEND A LITTLE TIME ON YOUR OWN GODDAMN SELF, stop worrying about "finding love," or your fucking eggs getting old (or whatever,) don't worry about the timeline, and for the love of Baby Jesus, please stop telling yourself that he was the best you could get. You're like, basically spitting on yourself when you say that, saying you're tainted, or that you've lost value- that you've "run the race and are retiring." Now, visualize spitting on yourself, you can't really reach anywhere other than your leg, your arm, or....your chin and that would just look like you're drooling- so, stop spitting on yourself, because it's goddamn embarrassing. You're alone this year because, perhaps, you need to enjoy one fabulous date....all. by. yourself. Don't go to Panda Express in your high school track sweats, save that for a Wednesday night. And don't settle on, "that one guy," just because you're afraid of being alone...it'll only make it worse.

So for you, you hot bitch, I've written an outline for you, virtually, asking YOU to ask YOURSELF on a date. Now, chin up, you're really too pretty to stare at the floor.

Valentines Doesn't Suck Ass, It's Your Day Hunny PIE:



9:00- While I'd like to stay away from cliches, that would be entirely impossible, (I'm from the John Hughes generation, don't fuck with me)

Your morning mantra: "Hey (____insert loving name here___) don't you look DASHING? (refer to yourself as dashing multiple times throughout the day, as it seems to be an underappreciated word) Gawd, aren't you stoked you didn't have to come up with some CLEVER present this year? Like the time you wrote him a fairytale and cut up all your childhood books so that you could find the blonde prince's for every scene, yeaaaaa, don't do that again. In fact, I'd like you to go buy yourself a book. You've been saying, "Word," and "Definitely" entirely too much- we think it's time for you to read a new novel. Also, your ass looks great. And, your hair- I mean, that HAIR. Win. Thank you dear heavens for a hot ass, hot hair day- also thank you for my banging hot face. (Good men fall in love with faces, not asses, so thank your face.) Now, put on some bronzer and go tackle the day, you little nymph. "


10:30- Go buy said book:

Suggested Reading: Decoded by Jay-Z (because I appreciate a man who can love a strong woman liiiiiike, BEYONCE), My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler, Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise by Ruth Reichl, How to be Single by Liz Tuccillo, Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert, Loving Frank by Nancy Horan, The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, The Book of Awesome by Neil Pasricha, and The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown- also, watch her talk on vulnerability here.


12:00- oh HAII, look who deserves a little bubbly with their lunch....yep, that's you. It's noon, and no hour is too early when you're celebrating, bring your book, leave your cell phone in the car, have two glasses....flirt with the waiter. Don't order a salad, who're you trying to impress? You know you want that baked Mac & Cheese, fool.

Mid-Day Mantra 2:00- "Okay, Weeping Willow...I see how you're getting all, 'poor me, no one sent me flowers...my desk looks bleak, like a sad single person's life (proceed to cry in bathroom)' well, good for you at 3:00, when you leave work early- YOU'RE GOING TO GO BUY YOURSELF SOME FLOWERS. Preferably something obnoxiously large, that would belong in a foyer with vaulted ceilings, after all, you're making up for years of NOT buying yourself flowers, so today- they should be large." Then, this is where you proceed to ask yourself out....chivalry isn't dead;

"Hey....so, I've been thinking about it and I know I've been kind of wishy washy about my feelings, but it's really that I'm just in AWE of you- and I didn't have the courage to ask.....you're (do your best stammering, Michael Cera-esque awkwardness impression) just.... (pause, get the courage to ask the hot piece of perfection out).... amazing sounds so LAME, you're way better than amazing, you're like....you're like a freakin' Holiday, just....amazing. God, amazing like Christmas rolled in powdered sugar and bacon grease. You're like Jane Austen, meets Madonna, meets Britney Spears when her abs were all covered in baby oil in that video that looked like she was in a sweat shop. You're as funny as Tina Fey and as sexy as Kim Kardashian. And, you have the most perfect little nose. What I'm really trying to say is, would you do me the great honor of having dinner with me tonight? (gulp)"

WHY YES, YES I WOULD!

3:00 Buy yourself a big fucking flower thing for your faux foray.


3:30- I know it isn't all about what's on the outside, but that doesn't mean it doesn't feel good to go "get pretty." Do any of the following; Manicure, pedicure, massage, body scrub, get some fake eyelashes like make you look like Bambi, get a blowout, go to YOGA- nothing makes skin look better than when you're all detoxed and shiny. If you can swing it, take the entire day off and do all of the above, don't look at me like that- YES YOU DO DESERVE IT, I KNOW IT'S EXPENSIVE, BUT YOU'RE WORTH IT BABY. Plus, haven't you heard of Groupon? Keep your eyes peeled for date deals.

5:00- remember that dress you bought last week? Over the top? TOTALLY. Wear it.

Suggested dresses (because we don't live in the same state, so we won't all be wearing the same dress, at the same time):
This RED HOT LITTLE NUMBER, or this SPARKLY ONYX THING i.e. LBD, or perhaps this, SO THAT YOU LOOK LIKE A LONG STEMMED CHAMPAGNE GLASS.

Look at you, all dressed up and pretty! Don't forget the shoes: YAY SHOES. Okay, maybe not those- I'm know I'm gagging at the price tag too, too expensive- BUT SO PRETTY.
Oh hey- one more thing; you should PROBABLY go to sleep wearing this tonight- women appreciate lingerie more than man anyway, they just wanna see yo titties, (Hi Mom, look how classy I am!)
Then, last but not least- go to DINNER. Where one place you've REALLY WANTED TO GO? Somewhere where ordering courses is essential, simply because there's so much on the menu that looks delicious......I'm going here: Olivea Restaurant. Oh, you're not into eating dinner alone...? Alright, I CHALLENGE YOU, brave thing. Or perhaps, your best friend can come along for this "First Date" as a buffer ;) I'll give you one pass, as long as there's a single dinner follow-up. Order a bottle of wine, yea, yea, you're a lush, and take your TIME. Make your date (YOU), feel worthy, special, ATTENDED TO. Listen to what she says; spiritually, mentally, and physically. Notice the little nuances that make her so special, be kind to her...make her feel valued, ADORED. Then, after you go to dinner, I want you to go home and write a THANK YOU letter to the ones you've loved/love, including ex-flames.....because, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't be you...no matter how it ended/started/IS.....etc, GRATITUDE is the best medicine.

I know, it all seems pretty simple right? But will you do it
?.....

THE CHALLENGE:


You have two weeks to plan your 'date' all links will be posted on Feb 17th on this blog and one of you bloggers will receive a kick ass giveaway prize, at random.

So whether it's a dinner date, a vacation, an art class, a ceremony of sorts, or a declaration to yourself........ what will you do to make yourself feel SPECIAL???? Let this day be the jumping off point of MANY, MANY special dates with YOU. Go on, before reservations are booked. I expect follow-up details ;) If you're in a relationship, take yourself on a date anyway!
Email me your amazing date details/links: chelseatalkssmack@gmail.com

Happy planning. xo.
 
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