Sudoku Champ

Scene: A Train. 125th Street Station. 9:30 p.m.

I'm standing, today's AM New York sudoku in left hand, click-pen in right hand, which is also holding onto the subway pole for balance. Passengers get on, one business-y type girl comes and shares the pole. She looks down at what I'm doing, opens her bag, gets out the same sudoku, and clicks open her own pen.

Naturally, I take this as a challenge.

I write a number. She writes two. I write two. She writes three. (Okay, I had a head start, but she was wearing glasses and carrying a briefcase -- so I'm calling it even.) Two seats open up. I take one. She takes the other. I sneak a peek at her puzzle. She's not even close. HA! Then she starts gaining... I actually feel panic, because I'm stuck and I have to win. HAVE TO. Because that's how I am.

I finally get a break and write down a flurry of numbers.  Just then, at 175th Street, she gets up and leaves.  I recognize this as an obvious forfeit.

Between 175th and 181st -- my stop -- I finish.  And by the power vested in me, I proclaim myself tonight's A Train Sudoku Champion.

xoxo

Today in a Nutshell

Here's an abridged list of some of the feelings I had today.

hopeful scared proud deflated inspired inspiring bummed angry disgusted embarrassed confused false true authentic humbled pious peaceful content disappointed frustrated surprised happy in-charge floaty loving loved pissed annoyed stressed bored boring plain fancy worshipful comfortable open alive joyous nerveous uncomfortable pleased

It's kind of nice to notice your feelings and just kind of be in them. Try it. What do you feel?

xoxo

Brotherhood of Man?

I walked out of Chelsea Studios after an audition today, and here's what I saw: Busy street, bunches of people walking fast. A raggedy, (I'm assuming) homeless, African American man, who had scored a half-smoked cigarette off of the ground. He had no way to light it. A white man in an expensive suit walked by, yapping loudly and importantly on an iPhone, with a lit cigarette in his hand. The first guy flagged the second guy down by waving the used cigarette in the air (with some desperation, I might add). The second guy didn't hesitate for a second, pulled over, got his lighter, lit the cigarette (shouting into his phone the whole time), and walked away. They both went back to their business, like it never happened. No words were exchanged.

I didn't know whether my heart should feel full or empty.

xoxo

Reunited, and it Feels So Good

Reunited with who, you ask? Well, darlings, it's not so much a who as a what.  And what it is is a toe ring.

I know, I know, a bunch of you are those people who hate feet and all things feet-related.  And to you fine folks, I say:  stop reading now.  Go google something.  To the rest of you who don't mind foot-type situations, maybe you can hear me out.

In high school, I bought a toe ring in Santa Cruz on a trip with my best girlfriends.  It was perfect.  It was a string-thin silver hoop that tied in a knot around itself.  I put it on my toe.  It stayed there for three years.  Then it broke.  I was never ever able to find another one that I could commit to!  I mean, I don't plan on taking a toe ring off and on and blah blah blah, so it better be good enough to be around long term.  Not too loose, not too tight, nothing flashy, something I can feel on my toes but doesn't pinch, no studs or sparkles or razz-matazz.  Just a toe ring.

Well dears, I found it.  My sis and I were getting mani-pedis in honor of her baby shower (which I'll blog about soon!) the other day, and while drying our tootsies, we found ourselves smack in front of a case of toe rings, with the perfect one inside.  We asked to buy it, they called over a lady who sized my toe (3 1/2, thank you very much), slipped it right on there, and went on her merry way.  My sis even bought it for me, which makes it that much nicer.  :)

And I find now that the feeling of it wiggling between my toes is a comfort somehow.  A comfort!!!  Isn't that weird?  There were a few moments of stress with the baby shower, and each time, I wiggled my toes and felt it there and for some reason remembered that I am still me, and everything is cool.  Like it's my own personal little rebellion or statement or whatever, and I like that it's there.

And so, I'll leave you with this:  what is your thing?  Your thing that may be little, or silly, or unexplainable, or misunderstood by others, or whatever -- but you like it and it makes you feel good, and so it's sticking around.  I wanna know.

xoxo

For the Record.

Dear You Know Who You Are,

Sincerely,
Chelsea

xoxo

I Would Like to Announce...

...that my darling, brilliant, talented, wonderful boyfriend doesn't know what a peach is. 

Knowing that I'm currently on a fruit and veggie rampage (Spring does it to me every time.  In California, right about now is when the produce frenzy begins.), he took it upon himself to bring me some bananas and some "peaches" home from running errands, because I had been talking about them.  I opened the bag and definitely found bananas, and some weird nectarine hybrid. 

So we had a little chat about the fact that peaches have fuzz, nectarines are a little more red with no fuzz, and plums are... well...  a plum color.  Because he said he didn't know the difference.  And then I hugged him because he's so adorable.

I guess I take being a farmer's daughter for granted sometimes.  Oh, and the nectarine hybrid is delicious anyway.

xoxo