Add This To Your Vocab...

So I came up with a new phrase...

I'll let you get a pen so you can write it down.

It is THAT good.

(Kidding.)

The next time you are puffing away at the gym and someone calls/texts you, asking what you are doing, this is what you need to answer with:

I am sweating myself beautiful!

Isn't that much better than saying you are going to the gym? Or worse, working out? Because who wants to work? Totally lame. And saying that you're getting in shape is kinda weird too. Frankly, what shape are you talking about? Circular, rectangular... isosceles triangle? Rhombus? Forget the shapes! Instead, you are just becoming a better outward match to the beautiful person you are on the inside!!

So, people of the gym and people who want to go to the gym (but can't seem to do it, because it just sounds awful):

Q: What are you doing after class today?

A: I'm going to sweat myself beautiful!

Q: You look great!

A: Why thank you! I've been sweating myself beautiful!

Q: Want to come over and scarf down a pint of burnt almond fudge ice-cream?

A: Absolutely! Because I just spent two hours sweating myself beautiful!

Say it with me one more time!

I'm sweating myself beautiful!!!

(Now go do it!)

:-)

Know What?

I came to a conclusion today...

Life kinda weirds me out a little sometimes.

Does it ever do that to you?

For instance...

What the honk is the matter with the weather here?

Snow?

A foot of snow?!!

In April?

Also.

Life is just weird.

And it weirds me out.

It kinda makes me just want to eat.

And I just went to the gym.

So that would be bad.

But I saw the former Mullet-Man

wearing blindingly bright purple sweats.

They went beautifully with his bright red hair. 

Ahhh...

I just love people. 

I really do.

Are You For Reals?!

Remember Mullet-Man?!

At the gym?

Guess what?

He cut. it. off!

I knooooow!!!

Workless Wednesday...

I don't have work on Wednesdays. Did you know that? Well, I did for a little while, and then I said to myself, "Self, Wednesdays are just too long." So I stopped going on Wednesday. Now I get to sleep in a little bit, eat breakfast at my leisure, catch up on my homework, and do a little blogging.

I invited you all for breakfast. I was going to post pictures of the amazing pancakes I was going to cook, but then... I wanted oatmeal. Sorry guys. And they were even going to be Little Mermaid pancakes in honor of today's post. I just happen to be an awesome shaper of pancake batter. Did you know that?

Well, now you do.

Once upon a time.... I wrote this post. You should probably read it for a little backstory. It involves my deep and long-lasting infatuation with Prince Eric. There are three links now. You can't miss them.

I'll give you some space to go read and mull things over....
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Are we good? This is a long one. But one that will teach you about the true me. One August of 2006, I decided that college was finally ready for my fine, new mature me. (Hah!) I hid the fact that I had a Disney Princess journal purchased at Disney World during junior year choir tour.

(You don't believe I have one, do you? I can see the look in your eyes!)

Well, check THAT out:

(Excuse the poor quality, Photo Booth can only do so much.)

I, afraid of what the world might do to me should I reveal my true inner Disney lover, move into an apartment of five complete strangers. I meet my soulmate in Megan, who immediately assigns everybody a Disney Princess and gives them a page to color and put on their door.

(I bet you think I don't have pictures of these either.)

Well, check THESE out:

Oh don't worry. I have one too. 

I'll give you one guess as to who is left:

"But Chess!" you protest. "Except for Belle, their hair is all wrong." We were instructed to color them as our own hair currently dictated. That is why Ariel has blonde streaks in the black. I tried to make honey-brown, but that didn't work.

"But Chess, how come your picture doesn't look like the others?" That's because I had my OWN coloring book, purchased on my 12th birthday, when I went to see Disney on Ice. That's right. You heard me. I went to see the Little Mermaid whiz around on ice-skates. 

Anyway, the point of this story. Ever since freshman year, it's become the Original Six's tradition to ask guys who their favorite Disney princess is and why. We don't tell them why. We just chuckle to ourselves over their reasons. Usually, it's either Belle or Jasmine. Which is why, two posts ago, when Rick and Mr. SovietChairman commented and said they liked Ariel the best, I got really excited. In four years of asking, that has NEVER happened! Poor little redheaded fish-girl is sooooo underrated. I bet if Charlie Brown were a fish-boy, he'd like her.

So thanks for a good laugh and a big smile, boys. It made my weekend a little bit brighter!

To the rest of you, I think you should go read these guys' blogs. Rick makes yummy treats and sprinkles them with beautifully sarcastic humor, and SovietChairman has all these cool little sketches on his posts, and they both just have a nice prose style. I enjoy it. It's always great fun for me to run into blogs like these that just make me smile. I highly recommend!

So on this Wednesday...

Tell me who your favorite princess is and why?

On This Monday Morning....

I would like to say to you.... dear Groupies....

(if you don't know who you are, check the left sidebar under "Groupies")

Ahem.

Dear Groupies (and invisible lurkers),

Thanks for adding this li'l blog to your reading to-do list. Why you've done so, I'll never know, but I'm so grateful. I have no idea where you all came from, because one day you were 15, and then all of a sudden, you were 83, and I was like, "Whaaaaaa--?!!"

But you make me happy. Just being there, you make me happy, and when you comment, I can't help but get the biggest smile on my face. Like for instance, my last post got 20 comments. 20!! I can't even believe it. You rock my little laptop world. I'm going to do something special for you guys soon. I promise. Just as soon as this little thing called school gets out of my way.

And Rick? Mr. SovietChairman (that I want to call Evan because of your blog's URL)? I think the peanut butter gods meant us to be friends. I say that cos I'm eating peanut butter and honey on a toasted English muffin for breakfast, and the taste lets me know there's a God in heaven. I'm sure you understand. I'd tell you today why I know we're meant to be friends, but I'm already late for work. Meet me back here on Wednesday! You can come too, other groupies and invisible lurkers. In fact, I insist. Join me for breakfast!  :)

Until then (and thanks again),

Chess

~ * ~

Dear Chess,

What the honk were you dreaming about last night? Your hair is sticking straight up in the air in the back. Sooo unattractive. Finish your breakfast and do something about it. I can't stand you looking at me.

Sincerely,

Your Laptop

If I Were a REAL Blogger...

I would be the kind of person that could do anything and everything. I would have lots of hobbies and talents, and I would document my every move on a blog. I would have a different blog for each of my amazing hobbies and interests. Plus also, each blog would have a fabulous name that would hearken back to Chester the Best-er.

Unfortunately, my talents and hobbies seem to be few and far between. No. A better term for that would be non-existent. But that didn't stop me from coming up with an entire list of blog names I would use if I were a REAL Blogger. Which I'm not. Because blogs are supposed to be about something, and, let's face it, this blog is about nothing.  

Without further ado...

Chess's List of Blogs She Would Have 

If She Were a REAL Blogger...

(but we all know she's not)

1. Chester the Less-ter -- ("Documenting my weight-loss journey to a healthier and happier me!!")
2. Fester with Chester -- (if I were the type to write depressing, angry, emo poetry)
3. Don't Mess-ter with Chester -- (if I were offering anti-bullying services)
4. Chester of the West-er -- (if I were an immigrant)
5. Chester the Br**st-er -- (if I were a new mommy and nursing, documenting all the disgusting, I mean, delightful things that come with having a baby. I would write the whole title, but I just know someone would be offended. Hah!)
6. Chester the Nest-er -- (if I were a happy-go-lucky newlywed bride who thought she knew how to be a homemaker)
7. Pester Chester -- (this one is my favorite: you'd ask me questions, and I would give you sarcastic yet brilliant advice)
8. Chester of Yest-er -- (if I were old and wanted to reminisce about the good ol' days)
9. Chester's Quest-er -- (if I had adventures)
10. Chester the Jester -- (if I were funny)
11. Chester the Tester -- (documenting all my funny stories of being a teacher, if I were still going to be one)
12. Chester the Zest-er -- (if I were a foodie and liked to cook. Lemon zest! Get it?)
13. The Rest-er of Chester -- (if I had a better half and wanted to dedicate all my sappy words to him)

Just to satisfy my curiosity.... 

Which imaginary blog do YOU like best? 

Which one would you read?

'Scuse Me, Mom....

Earlier this week, Mommers was driving us (me and the younger bro and sis) somewhere, and Kesha's "Tik Tok" comes on the radio. I hate that song. Hate it. But I can't deny the beat gets you and you can't help car dancing. It's just one of those things.

"Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack" blasts out and Mom looks at all of us and asks suspiciously,

"Do you know what Jack is?"

I'm thinking, "Is she asking me because she doesn't know, or is she asking to find out whether I've drunk it?" We all just looked at her weird and said, "Duh, Mother! It's a beverage of the strong alcoholic variety." (In less eloquent terms, of course.)

"I just wanted to know if you knew."

and then she turns on me,

"How do YOU know what it is?"

"Uh..... remember how I'm almost 22 and go to college? And I used to date someone who forgot what the Word of Wisdom is?" 

"Oh yeah."

Then I said, wanting to make sure, "And you do know what it is, right?"

"Of course, honey. I used to tend bar!"

How could I have forgotten that 
my mother used to be a bartender?

My apologies, Mom.