Check Out Girl Checks Out More Then Groceries

Have you ever had a stranger's junk in your face? I feel confident in saying that for many of you the answer is yes, but I'm referring to a particular situation, one not involving alcohol mixed with bad decisions. Here is a non-fictional tale that I like to call “Checkout Girl Checks Out More Than Groceries.”

It was a dark, stormy Friday (it could of been a sunny Tuesday, I can't remember, I was trying to add a dramatic effect) and I was at my job working hard...hardly working*...stupid auto correct. My job consists of standing behind a counter with a giant freezer full of delicious food behind me. Customers come in, tell me what they want and I grab it for them. It sounds like a pretty uneventful environment doesn't it? WELL IT'S NOT!

I do most of my human observations at my job, and I rarely come home without an interesting story. This one in particular really stands out in my mind. Anyway, this is the type of store where we get a lot of regulars and the majority of the time people know what they are coming in for; in and out. On this particular day, a customer I did not recognize came into the store. He was a bigger man, bald with terrifying tattoos up and down his arms. I greeted him in the upbeat way I usually greet customers and then went about my business while he looked at our sale flyer. His mannerisms were different of a regular customer, which caught my attention. For example, he kept pacing, scratching the back of his neck, looking through the one paged flyer more times than necessary, etc. At this point, I thought maybe he is just having a tough time deciding what to purchase for dinner, it IS quite a crucial choice. So, I walk in front of him, with the counter separating us of course and say “may I grab something for you?” WELL, at this very moment I discovered EXACTLY what he wanted me to grab! I looked down and my heart dropped to the floor. Let's just say the Oktoberfest behind me weren't the only sausages in the store. He was completely exposed! My eyes widened and I drew back startled. I quickly composed myself and shot my eyes back up in the direction of his head (the one on his shoulders). He listed a few items he wanted to purchase and I grabbed them for him as fast as I could. As he is choosing his groceries, two elderly women walk in. I couldn't have them seeing this! I don't know CPR and I'm quite certain these innocent little ladies would have a heart attack if they saw what I was looking at. I had to get this guy out of here as soon as possible. His junk was like a terrible car accident; you're not sure why but you can stop looking at it. I had to constantly remind myself to keep my eyes elsewhere. Finally it was time to check him out (his groceries) and so many things kept rushing through my head; “how can he not feel that breeze? Is he doing this on purpose? Is it looking at me? What should I have for lunch?” (I was hungry).

Soon my fear subsided and I realized how funny this was. As I was ringing up his total, it took all my strength not to laugh. I had to pretend I was having a coughing fit just to suppress my laughter. Of course he decides he wants to pay debit which is exactly level with his penis. I had to type in his total on the debit machine, insert his card and spin the machine in his direction, all with my hand less than a foot away from his package. I packed his groceries, handing him his receipt and he was gone. Thankfully the elderly ladies never noticed.

Last time I checked, I was supposed to show CUSTOMERS our meat, not the other way around. I really do think he did that on purpose and if the expected end result was to turn me on, he in no way, shape, or form succeeded. The only turning on his act of disgustingness did was turn me on to women.

At least it was an eventful day at work and I have a story to tell the Bun Guy (I should probably know his name by now but I feel Bun Guy will suffice)

Thank you for reading!

Picture of the Day 

This is me on vacation in Chicago, enjoying a beer and deep dish pizza. MMM.

Article about my Papa

My Papa is currently battling Alzheimer's Disease and currently lives in a nursing home. I was asked to write an article about my Papa to be published in the Aspen Lakes Echo, a publication that talks about what is happening at the home as well as contains articles about those who live there. Here it is:



John McCloy; an extraordinary person to say the least. John was born in Ayr, Ontario in 1941 and raised in Kitchener, Ontario. You've heard of the girl next door, but how about the girl across the street? In 1959 John married Val, the girl who lived right across from him. Their marriage was and still is full of love, laughter and especially as of recently, support. John and Val gave life to three wonderful children; Chris, Debbie, and John Jr. They are also lucky to have a loving son-in law, Jeff and a lovely daughter-in-law, Katy. All three of their children have grown up to be admirable, influential parents who have done an effective job of passing on strong family values to John and Val's five grandchildren; Stefani, Jourdan, Chelsea, Brett, and Mitchell.

John has had a very successful career. At the age of 11, enticed by the 10 cents an hour, John started working at a bakery. This job quickly turned into a passion which turned into a career. John started working for Weston Bakeries in 1969. With dedication and a strong work ethic, John became the Production Manager of the Weston Bakeries location in Essex, ON in 1975. Johns life-long career has allowed him to work and live in several different Ontario cities including Kitchener, Windsor, Mississauga, and Cobourg. Val always stuck by his side and was extremely supportive of all John's career opportunities. John retired several times, but his love for working couldn't be tamed and he returned to work until he finally retired for good in Windsor, Ontario. John was such an extremely invaluable asset to Weston Bakeries and a short biography dedicated to his work was printed on the bag of Weston Bakeries Hot Crossed Buns and English Muffins.

John, a Toronto Maple Leafs fan, loves hockey as he played it as a kid. He also enjoys bowling; John and Val used to be in a bowling league together. John is also an incredible Euchre player. There is no doubt that John's favourite thing to do was to spend time at his cottage in Katrine, Ontario. He took excellent care of his beloved cottage and here he explored his love for fishing, boating, and campfires. What he most loved about the cottage were the times when the entire family would come up for a week and spend good quality time together.

John, known to his five grandchildren as Papa, holds his grandchildren close to his heart. He is a captivating story teller, especially when it came to bedtime stories. He never had trouble getting his grandchildren to go to bed as he would tell them they would turn into pumpkins if they didn't. Whenever it came time to tuck his grand-daughters in, he always began his stories with “once upon a time in a land far, far away, there were three beautiful girls.” Whenever these beautiful girls would wear their hair in a ponytail, he would always lift it up and look for a horse's bottom. He taught his grandsons valuable lessons including how to fish and how to make it appear as if you are swallowing a whole egg and having it come out your bottom. He is always looking to provide entertainment for his grandchildren, whether it is by pulling out his teeth or teaching us how to beat the next level in Donkey Kong.

Aside from all the jokes and witty lines, John is an extremely loving person and is very proud of his family. His contagious sense of humour coinciding with his admirable wisdom has helped properly raise not only three wonderful children of his own but five well-rounded grandchildren who are so very grateful for the love and creativity their Papa has brought and continues to bring into their lives.

When John was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, his family only grew closer and stronger. The dedicated care John's entire family provided for him proved how tight-knit they are. John's family devoted all of their attention on helping John adapt to the changes and confusion he was feeling. John was admitted into Aspen Lakes in 2011. Val, being the committed and nurturing wife she has always been is a tremendous support and she visits him six times a week. His family is extremely grateful for the wonderful caregivers that provide John with great personal care. They are so appreciative and cannot express this enough.

Thanks for reading :)

xo chelsea grace

Life as a Fire Hydrant

Here is a creative writing assignment of mine from Grade 12 that I found.

I had to write from the point of view of a fire hydrant.

Sometimes I feel as if I am taken for granted. It's hard living a life as a crime against fashion, with my bright yellow exterior and my shiny blue top. I'm constantly being blamed by angry drivers for wasting a perfectly good parking space. Hey, I'm just here to, you know, potentially save lived, but yeah I guess I should just be labelled as a neighborhood nuisance. Is it really that much of a bother to park a few meters up the street? I can't help but be amused by the oblivious people who park in front of me while they “only run in for a second” and are greeting by a parking ticket upon their return.

I see the same things day after day; couples strolling down the sidewalk holding hands, drivers with the need for speed zooming past me thinking cops won't catch them on residential streets, even children running past me in an intense game of tag. Today, I was the home-free spot!

Yep, today was a good day. I can feel the warm sun beating down onto my painted top, the surrounding blades of grass lightly tapping my base as they blow in the wind, the dog peeing all down my...wait, not again! Honestly, what makes me so gosh darn attractive to every single canine that crosses my path? Is there some sort of sign painted across me reading, “hello, feel free to urinate all over me”!? Seriously, sometimes I think that my friends and I are more notorious for being the dog's version of the toilet rather than on important object that should be treated with respect! I guess it's true what they say...some days you're the dog and some days you're the hydrant...oh wait, I'm the hydrant everyday!

Eventually, every fire hydrant has that one moment, the one that's worth all the home-free hits and the dog pee showers. My moment was last August, when the house across the street caught fire. As soon as I saw the smoke seeping out of the windows, I knew it was my time to shine! When the, let's just say more than attractive, firemen arrives they took out their hoses (no pun intended) and attached it to my nozzle. I knew I had to give everything I had! I felt more empowered with ever drop of water I forced out of myself and I had that fire out in no time! I was a hero. Of course, non of the recognition went to me, but nonetheless I was a hero.

The Devil Within (a poem I wrote in high school)

So, today I was cleaning my room extensively. I ended up throwing 3 full garbage bags of crap away, including all my work from college. It was depressing because I studied hard and did well and then decided I didn't want to be in that profession. Oh well, that's my journey. Anyway, I found a stack of paper from high school, and in that stack was a few things I had written in my Grade 12 English class and Creative Writing class. So, for the next couple blogs I will share them with you.

This poem is titled “Devil Within” and I'm sure after reading it you will think I was/still am fucked up but I can assure you I am happy and healthy, I just have a poet soul lol. Poetry is about interpreting the words in a way that affects you. My poem can have many interpretations but what I was aiming for when I wrote this was the struggle we all have with ourselves to forget what may have happened in the past and not be afraid to change your future in order to follow your dreams.

The Devil Within

You're not at all loud,

Yet you are never inaudible.

It's overwhelmingly awkward being alone with you.

Therefore, I am always in a state of awkwardness.

You force me to dwell upon my broken past.

You depict images of my desolate future.

You remind me of the crestfallen present.

I want myself to want better things,

but you tell me these things are unattainable.

I want to change,

I know what I have to do,

but you tell me it's impossible.

I say I need to try, I need to see!

You say it's safer not to.

“What will others think of you?” you say to me.

There is no ignoring your emphatic tone.

I try to find sweet solitude in my dreams,

but I ill-fatedly find you there haunting me.

My dreams are private images locked in an imaginary box,

but you always manage to pry it open and interfere.

I've had enough of you!

Stop playing these diabolic games with me!

Unlock these restricting chains you've set upon me!

Wait...you are me.

We're one in the same.

It's me...against myself.

It's up to me to overpower the devil within.

Dear me, please give me the strength,

to repair the damage that “I” has done to “Me.”

My Quest for a Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich

Okay, I like food. There’s not much I won’t eat. I eat like a man and I am always hungry. I appreciate good food. Something I had never tried was a Philly Cheesesteak sandwich (PCS). With my love and appreciation of good food, I refused to eat one from anywhere else except the original Philly Cheesesteak restaurant in Philadelphia, Pat’s King of Steaks. A couple of weeks ago, I had my opportunity to make this life-long goal of mine an accomplished one. My friends Amanda and Dylan offered to accompany me to Philadelphia in my quest for an authentic PCS. When people asked me why I was visiting Philly and I told them about my deep desire for this sandwich, they all responded with “no really, why are you going there?” Sometimes people have a hard time understanding that if I want something bad enough, I will go to great lengths to have it.

So three brave and hungry souls rented a car and set off in search of a PCS suited to satisfy our cravings. To my surprise, the hunt for a PCS was filled with unexpected excitement. I ended up crossing close to 10 things off of my bucket list on this trip. We decided to swing by Seaside Heights, NJ on the way, the home of the Jersey Shore house! Here, I fulfilled many of my hopes and dreams including; getting a picture in front of the Jersey Shore house, buying a t-shirt from the Shore Store, getting a picture of me doing the Jersey Turnpike in front of Karma (the nightclub), and of course writing the link to my blog on the door of the Jersey Shore house.  (Note to Self: get better hopes and dreams). As fun as NJ was, my heart still yearned for the, what I can only imagine would be succulent taste of that shaved beef on a soft bun, oozing with cheese. Philly here we come.

We finally arrive in Philadelphia, a beautiful place I must say. We drop our luggage off in the hotel and as tired as we were, we decided to explore the city’s night life. It’s about 10pm and way past dinner time, looks like the PCS will have to wait until tomorrow. After we walked around the city, in what I believe was a giant circle, we decided to get a “few” drinks. Being the classy clan we are, we chose a karaoke bar for our first stop. Singing karaoke is something that terrifies the absolute crap out of me. Therefore, I put it on my bucket list. Amanda suggested I do it, and Dylan backed her up. I refused to the point where I was about to cry. My friends made some strong points. “Nobody you know is here.” No. “You can pick the song.” No. “The person before you was horrible.” No. “We will buy you some drinks.” Fine. I ended up choosing one of my all-time favourite songs, “Son of a Preacher Man.” I was shaking a sweating and wanted to be anywhere else in the world but there. My friends said I did “well.” I feel as if the cute bartender was flirty until after I sang karaoke so I’m assuming it couldn’t of been that “well.” Oh well. After I shook off the embarrassment and returned to my seat, an Asian man who had sang earlier in the night came up to me. Now, he was AWEFUL. I think it caused me to lose at least %5 of my hearing. He says, “Wow! You are an excellent singer. I was so impressed. You were awesome. High five!” Cool. The WORST singer I’ve ever heard just complimented my singing abilities. I decide I am too embarrassed to stay at this bar, so I get out my visitors guide. I flip through the pages and an ad catches my eye. “Best Margaritas in the City.” Sold. It doesn’t take much convincing to get Amanda and Dylan to make the 20 minute trek to this bar.

Now, I am not racist whatsoever and this paragraph is not meant to be offensive in any way. We arrive at this margarita bar, called Cocobananas. We look inside. It is packed. There is not one single white person. Every person in the bar is of the African American descent. My friends and I are the whitest white people you can find. After contemplating outside of the bar for a few minutes, we decide that Amanda’s ghetto booty is enough for us to be socially accepted in this bar. We enter. It is obvious that everyone inside is wondering who we are, where we came from, and why we are here. We pick a table in the corner and drink our margaritas in our tiny martini glasses while everyone around us is booty poppin. Amanda and I need to go to the bathroom. We get up and make our way through the crowd, getting stares that could pierce through a brick wall. The bathroom is disgusting. The sink is filled with throw up, with large chunks accenting the walls. There is no toilet paper. I like to think I am a crafty and creative person, especially in a jam. I get an idea. I pull out my visitors guide and we use to pages as toilet paper. Yes, I know it is gross but we’ve already drawn enough attention to ourselves without hunting someone down who could replace the TP. After that experience, we decide it’s time to leave.

We head down the street, wasted. We find a sports bar that is a little more on the quiet side, so we go in. We are the only people sitting at the bar and we quickly make friends with the bartender, Kylie. She was super cool and kept up conversation for the rest of the night. I can’t really remember what we talked about but she let us take home two glasses from the bar as souvenirs, which was cool. It is now closing time and at this point, I have mixed several kinds of beer, vodka, tequila, and various other liquids. Someone suggested it would be a good idea to go to Pat’s King of Steaks right then and there, at 3 in the morning. I may have been to the point of no return, drunk wise, but I have not lost sight of the sole purpose of this grand adventure; a Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich. It is time. I nobly agree to hail a cab and take the 6 minute ride to my destiny.

We arrive. It is more beautiful in person than on the internet. It is my time to shine. Now, there is a certain method to ordering a PCS. I did my extensive research on PCSs and discovered the following:

How to Order a Steak

Step 1: Specify if you want your steak with (pronounced wit) or without (wit-out) onions. (If   you are not a rookie, this should come naturally).

Step 2: Specify plain-cheez whiz-provolone-american cheese-or pizza steak

Step 3: Have your money ready

Step 4: Practice all of the above while waiting in line. If you make a mistake, don’t panic, just go to the end of the line and try again.

I stood in line, hear pounding. I whispered the order to myself several times, praying I don’t mess it up. The person in front of me pays and walks away and I know it is my time to swallow my pride, step up to that dirty window and order the crap out of that cheesesteak. I got the classic. Cheez Whiz wit onions. Now, being me you would think I somehow messed this up horribly. However, my ordering skills were flawless. I did beautifully. It was as if the food Gods blessed me with the gift of flawless drunken speech. The counter attendant even called me sweetie. I was proud of myself. I couldn’t wait to get it home, rip off its packaging and have my way with it. The 8 minute cab ride back to the hotel felt like an eternity. I imagine it is similar to a bride walking down an aisle. She’s thinking, “five years of dating, 2 years of planning a wedding, and finally the moment is here. I cannot get to the altar fast enough.” Finally we get to the hotel, we rush up to the room and I lay my PCS on the bed, slowly unwrapping it, one corner at a time. I can feel my mouth becoming heavy with drool. The aroma that fills my nose sends child down my spine, similar to the ones people get when they have a very anticipated first kiss. There is nobody else in the world right now except for me and this cheesesteak. I take a quick photo shoot with it and then before I decide to end the teasing, I congratulate myself. This PCS is something I really wanted. I could of went to a local Windsor restaurant and tried one, but I knew I deserved better. I really did it, I travelled all the way to Philadelphia for this and I was very proud. Anyway, back to the cheesesteak. I lift the heavy sandwich to my mouth. My lips quiver and I decide, it is time. I take a big bite of the PCS and my heart sings. It is so fucking delicious. It is EVERYTHING I imagined it would be. I feel so overwhelmed, I almost want to cry. I finish almost the whole thing and we all pass out. What could have been either 10 minutes or a few hours later (I was wasted, therefore had no sense of time) I woke up and felt a strong urge…to throw up. I ended up throwing up my entire Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich.

The next day we did touristy things such as; getting my picture next to the Liberty Bell with my butt-crack sticking out, eating a hangover breakfast, purchasing a colonial hat and wearing it around town, etc. We ended up driving back to Ohio and slept at Dylan’s house that night. The next morning he drove us to Cleveland, where we were to catch a Megabus to take us home. We were exhausted from the previous days adventures, and just wanted to have a quit, smooth ride home. Yeah right. First of all, our bus stop consisted of a sign that said “Megabus Stop.” We planned on taking our final bathroom break at this bus stop, which we expected to be an actual building. So, we enter the nearest hotel which happens to be the fanciest hotel I’ve ever seen in my life. We frantically search for a washroom, and eventually find one. Of course you need a hotel key to use it. After out hunt continues, we find a washroom being cleaned by the housekeepers, therefore it is open. I really hope these poor ladies hadn’t already cleaned out stalls. We quickly do our business, just in time to hop onto the bus.

We are travelling for an hour or so and stop at a truck stop. A young, scrawny white teenage bends over to pick up his bag, and an older African-American gentlemen gets pissed because the kids “ass is in his face.” So, the older gentleman punches the poor kid in the face. The kid gets the bus driver, who then comes to investigate the situation. The older gentleman tries to defend himself by saying “that damn kid had his ass in my face.” I am outraged. If there is one thing in the world that bothers me to no end, it is people who get away with treating innocent people like shit. I cannot contain my anger…

Me: “THAT POOR KID DID NOTHING TO DESERVE THAT. NOTHING. HE WAS SIMPLY BENDING OVER TO PICK UP HIS STUFF!”

Old Man : “SIT DOWN, U AINT SEEN NUTTIN.”

Me: “UHH YEA, I DID. YOU PUNCHED HIM IN THE FACE FOR DOING NOTHING.”

The State Troopers are called and I am asked to get off the bus to give a statement and answer questions. Two hours later we are on our merry way again. We finally reach Detroit where my great friend Dan is there to pick us up and take us back to Windsor. On the way to the border, I realize I have Dylan’s passport and mine must still be in Ohio. Great. THANKFULLY I brought me birth certificate and several other pieces of i.d and THANKFULLY the lady at the border decided not to be a huge bitch and let me back into my country.

Well I did it. Not only did I fulfill my conquest of eating an authentic PCS, but I faced my fear of karaoke, I saw things I’ve always wanted to see, I stood up for an innocent person, a talked my way back into my own country, and I made some wonderful memories with wonderful people.

Bucket List

A “heart smile” is the feeling of utter bliss. It is what I imagine it feels like to be on ecstasy but instead of taking a pill, you get high off of what is in front of you, what you are experiencing. A lot of people get this feeling from a very anticipated kiss from a long time crush. Me, I get this feeling from experiencing something I've set out to accomplish. (Side Note: this feeling is not to be confused with indigestion)

I currently live my life differently than I imagine most people do. For me, a career is not one of my top priorities right now (probably because I am not 100% sure what I want to do for the rest of my life yet). Finding someone to be in a relationship with is DEFINITELY nowhere near the top of my priority list. I live life based on my bucket list. Sure, there are experiences and opportunities that come my way that aren't necessarily on my list, but I know will enhance my life so I take them. However, I live to accomplish the goals on my bucket list. This list gives me direction and helps me understand if I'm on the right path or not. Nothing feels better than scratching something else off that list. I am the type of person that can be perfectly content working a minimum wage job as long as I am working towards striking things off that bucket list of mine. I figure that if I settle down with a big girl job, I might not have the time to do the things on my list. I also fear that with a big girl job, I might lose focus on what is really important to me.

I am constantly adding to my bucket list and I will continue to add to it until the day I die. I am always discovering new things that I want to experience. Some of my goals are small and easy to accomplish while others take more time and determination but in the end a goal accomplished is a goal accomplished right? Sometimes, instead of adding things I WANT to do, I will add cool things that I've ALREADY done and cross them off so it gives me more motivation to keep livin' the dream.

Want to make your own bucket list? I suggest using an actual piece of paper and a writing utensil instead of a computer (there are these things called pens that you hold in your hand and when you touch it to paper and move your hand in certain motions, it makes words and shapes). If you have it written on a piece of paper than you can bring it anywhere and even take pictures of you crossing something off while you are doing it! Start by writing down some big things you've ALWAYS wanted to do. Then write down some smaller ones that can be easily achieved and therefore motivate you towards tackling the bigger ones. Write down a few cool things you've done in the past and cross those off so you think to yourself “hey, look at all this cool stuff I've done. Maybe I'm not so boring and maybe I CAN accomplish the rest of these things.” Don't worry about prioritizing it or putting it in any type of sequential order. Don't worry about making it neat or making sure you use a ruler to cross off finished tasks. Don't worry about spilling stuff on it and NEVER make a new copy. In my opinion, the dirtier, the more wrinkled, and the more abstract the list looks, the more its been through! Make sure to take pictures if possible when doing the things on the list! I started making a scrapbook with all my bucket list pictures. It'll be a great memoir to look back on when you are older. Actually, you should still be adding to it when you are older!

Now, I really don't talk about it much but when I was in Grade 6 I was diagnosed with an extreme case of Social Anxiety Disorder and bipolar depression, which I have learned on my own to handle very well. Back in the sixth grade, I couldn't do normal everyday things without having panic attacks or feeling incredibly sick and frightened. Going to school was out of the question. I couldn't even eat at a restaurant. I was even too nervous to go eat dinner at a relatives house. My constant nervous feeling resulted in me not wanting to eat, which landed me in the hospital. I'm not exactly sure how or why this all started and it isn't something I want to talk about in detail, not in this blog anyway. I actually don't think much about it. I hate to say I am embarrassed but I just can't believe I used to be that way seeing as how I am today. Anyway, As part of my therapy, I had to start with a small list of fears I wanted to overcome. Some people are afraid to swim, some people are afraid of heights but I was afraid to do anything in public. I can't remember the exact list but I know “eat at a restaurant” was on it. I remember my family and I went to McDonalds and I was so very nervous. I sat at a table by myself while my family sat at a separate table. I finished my meal and was very proud of myself. I know how incredibly odd this sounds that eating at a McDonalds was a huge victory for me, but it was a goal I set out to accomplish, one that challenged me. I think it was shortly after that success that I started getting better, gaining confidence, and believing in myself. I never wanted that feeling to end which is why I live by my bucket list. Look at me now!

Here is my bucket list so far:

1. Bungee jump

2. Skydive
3. Be on top of a mountain
4. Get on the Student Representative Council
5. Get an Executive position on the Student Representative Council
6. Travel Europe
7. Graduate College
8. Do an overseas mission with Habitat for Humanity
9. See the Great Wall of China
10. Go horseback riding
11. Swim with dolphins
12. Drive across the Unites States
13. Have a summer romance
14. Live out West
15. Visit out East
16. Sit on the edge of the Grand Canyon
17. See the Hoover Dam
18. Write a book
19. Play with a chimp
20. Start a blog
21. Drive down Las Vegas Blvd
22. See the Hollywood Sign
23. Go to Cancun for spring break
24. Go to Austrailia
25. Go to the Chicago Aquarium
26. Work on a cruise ship
27. Eat a Philly Cheesesteak Sanwhich in Philadelphia (I will be accomplishing this in a few days)
28. Ride a camel
29. Go on the Empire State Building
30. See the Statue of Liberty
31. See the Sea Lions at Pier 39 in SanFran
32. Kiss/touch a sea lion
33. Live on a farm
34. Party with real cowboys
35. Get a tattoo
36. Go glass blowing
37. Sing karaoke
38. Do the Edgewalk in Toronto (this is being booked soon)
39. Drink coffee in Seattle
40. Watch a baseball game
41. Meet a famous person
42. Flash someone
43. See/climb a pyramid
44. Go to Marine Land
45. Do something very spontaneous that leaves a lasting impression
46. Take a risk for love
47. Have a cool job I like
48. Climb the Eiffel Tower
49. Go whale watching
50. See the famous Arc in Cabo
51. Win and award
52. Go camping
53. Go skinny dipping
54. Get my Indian Status card
55. Ride in a Trolly in SanFran
56. Fall in and out of love
57. Go to the Winter Carinvale in Quebec/get a picture with Bonhomme
58. See the Rocky Mountains
59. Attend a fancy dinner
60. Finish the Detroit Free Press Half Marathon (I am currently training for this)
61. Go taboozing
62. Visit the World's Largest Truck Stop
63. Visit Buffalo Bill's grave
64. Be in the newspaper
65. See the “painted ladies” in Sanfran
66. Find the “Full House” house in SanFran
67. Become a volunteer
68. Go on a vacation by myself
69. Attend a function where nobody knows me/make friends
70. Go to the movies by myself
71. Be in a fashion show
72. Read 100 books (currently working on this)
73. Drive a boat
74. Go fishing
75. Go to the Titanic Exhibit
76. Go scuba diving
77. Bathe in a waterfall
78. Go hiking
79. Climb a tree
80. Swing on a swing set past age 21
81. See Alcatraz
82. See the Golden Gate Bridge/drive across it
83. Ride in a gondola
84. Tour the Celestial Tea Factory in Colorado
85. Visit the Chelsea Teddy Bear Factory
86. Eat at the Cheesecake Factory
87. Visit the first ever Starbucks
88. Put my gum on the gum wall in Seattle
89. See the Space Needle
90. Drink Patrone
91. Tour the Jelly Belly Factory
92. Visit Ground Zero
93. Meet a Rockette
94. See the set of SNL
95. See the big Christmas Tree in Times Square
96. See the Liberty Bell (I will be accomplishing this in a few days)
97. Visit Jersey Shore (I will be accomplishing this in a few days)
98. Buy something from the Shore Store (I will be accomplishing this in a few days)
99. See the Jersey Shore house (I will be accomplishing this in a few days)

100. Have a drink from Jenkinsons (I will be accomplishing this in a few days)

101. Get paid to write (currently working on this)

Thank-you for reading:)

Love, Chelsea xo

Here are just a COUPLE of the MANY photos of me doing thing son my bucket list.

                                                                  Meet a famous person

                                                         Go to Cancun for Spring Break

                                                                Be on top of a mountain

                                                                   Go horseback riding

                                                                Have a summer romance

                                                                        Ride a camel

                                                                   Swim with dolphins

                                                                See the Hollywood Sign

                                                                See the Space Needle

                                                              See the "Full House" house

                                                         Visit World's Largest Truck Stop

                                                                   See the Hoover Dam

                                                               Visit Buffalo Bill's grave

                                                           Drive down Las Vegas Blvd.

                                                   See the Sea Lions at Pier 39 in SanFran

                                                 Sit on the edge of the Grand Canyon

                                                          Take a trolly ride in SanFran

                                                                       See Alcatraz

                                                           See the Golden Gate Bridge

                                                       See the "painted ladies" in SanFran

Observations at Work

-Most customers at the place I work at tell me they are on a diet and need to check the nutrient facts of our products before they purchase them, yet they ask to look at things like cake and pie. They seem to gravitate towards the soups we offer, which are stuffed with salt, bacon, fat, etc. But they think that because it's soup, it's healthy.

-I have the ability to make screaming children be quiet. Today at work, I stopped about 4 children from crying by offering them free samples of cake. Their mothers looked at me like I was Jesus.

-Our debit machine has a sign taped onto it that says “insert chip” with a big arrow pointing to the bottom of the machine. 99% of customers try over and over to jam their card into the top of the machine; there is no chip slot on the top. Most of the time I let them try a few times and laugh to myself, then direct them to the bottom. Customers usually respond with, “oh, I'm supposed to shove it in the bottom” and it takes every bit of strength I have not to say “that's what she said.”

-The front door at work makes a super high pitch beeping noise while it is open. Most people are oblivious to this and stand half inside, half outside the door while they look at the flyer posted in the front window, the beeping noise contributing to my hearing loss the whole time.

-While customers are looking down at the advertisement on the counter and I am waiting to help them I see how long I can stare at them until they look up and catch me glaring.

-90% of the time I can guess what customers are going to ask for before they ask for it. It is a gift and it amazes me every time.

-I like talking to customers, learning about their personalities. Many of them are regular customers and its fun developing a relationship with them. Today one of my favourite regular couples came in and they usually buy spicy chicken breasts so I said “spicy chicken breasts are on sale today!” and they were pleasantly surprised that I remember what they usually buy. A little personal touch goes a long way.

-I'm not sure if it creeps me out or if I like it when strangers call me by my first name once they read my name tag.

-This is going to sound weird and I really can't explain it myself but when there are lots of boxes in the freezer, this cardboard-ish smell emits and I'm addicted to it. Kind of like some people love the smell of gas.

-I secretly hope nobody eats our free samples so I can eat them all at the end of the day.

-Some customers have trouble understanding that it is a better deal to buy a 21 pack of cabbage rolls for $15.99 than 2 packs of 10 cabbage rolls for $8.99 each. I'm not sure why it is so hard to understand this.

-Once upon a bad haircut, a cute boy who works next door came in to buy food and this is how out conversation went:

CuteBoy : “I like your haircut.”

Me : “I look like an Asian boy”

CuteBoy : “I happen to check out Asian boys all the time”

-I constantly dance and sing at work while stocking shelves, vacuuming, mopping, etc. Constantly.

-I once received a phone call at work from a strange man. The conversation went like this:

Me : “Thank you for calling, Chelsea speaking”

StrangeMan : “Do you still have chicken breast left?”

Me : “Yes we do!”

StrangeMan : “Ok, I am coming to get some soon. Do you know what I look like?” (he is saying this is a very creepy, what he probably thought was playful way)

Me : “Um, no I don't. I can't see you.”

StrangeMan : “Take a guess.”

Me: “Uh, brown hair?”

StrangeMan : “Yep, what else?”

Me : “Glasses?”

StrangeMan : “No, what colour are my eyes?”

Me : “Brown?”
StrangeMan: “Nope, Blue. I will be there in an hour Chelsea. Remember, the brown haired guy with blue eyes. I will bring you a treat.”

Me: “Oh darn, I am off in half an hour.”

StrangeMan : “Oh no, well next time then Chelsea”

Yea I have no idea who that was but it was odd. I'm kind of disappointed because I like treats.

-99% of the time I spill something on my uniform while on my way to work or at work and look like a slob.

-I used to have a name tag that said “Trainee” and some people thought that was my actual name.

-If ever a young couple comes in and looks confused, 99% of the time it's because they don't normally shop there but their parents got them a gift card for Christmas.

-Most people don't know how to eat a free sample without getting crumbs all over the floor and counter, which I am responsible for cleaning up at the end of the day.

-My favourite thing to sample is mini cream puffs because its impossible to bite them in half without the cream squirting everywhere and its fucking hilarious. One time a middle-aged lady in a fancy fur coat took a bite and the cream squirted all down the front of her coat and she didn't notice. Another time a lady took a bite and the cream went dripping, she caught most of it in her hand but half of it was on her face and she didn't realize. I didn't say anything because a) it's awkward to point that out to a stranger, b) it was so entertaining and c) I was challenging myself not to laugh in her face. I've also seen cream drop on crotches and nestle in moustaches. Funny, funny stuff.

-We used to have a juice machine with free samples of juice, but we don't anymore. It's funny to see how upset children get when they realize it isn't there anymore.

-Sometimes I get the cutest kids in the store. One offered me 8 million dollars if he could have the toy truck we have for a decoration. One little boy said to me “hey, you are funny. I'm funny too. So, I think we should close down the store and decorate it like a wedding and get married.” I almost took him up on the offer because I figured that would be the only time a man would propose to me. I had another little boy tell me he was in love with me because I gave him a free magnet. It's always nice to hear you are loved. I had one little girl who introduced herself to me with a handshake. She was five. One little boy pointed at me and in an angry voice said, “YOU'RE FIRED” so I said “okay, see ya” and I walked out the door and walked down the street. I ended up coming back and he felt bad.

-People come 20 minutes before opening and even though the open sign is off, all the lights inside are off, and the hours are clearly posted in the front window, they knock and yank on the door as if the store will magically open.

-I'm convinced that one night when I take the trash out, a raccoon or a homeless person will jump out of the dumpster and attack me. This is an actual fear of mine.

-Sometimes if I am working by myself and it is dead, I do sit ups in the kitchen.

-When a little kid is staring at me and their parents are distracted by shopping, I make funny/scary faces at them and try and guess if they will a)cry or b)laugh.

-When customers ask what kind of shrimp we have, I always laugh because I sound like Bubba from Forest Gump... “battered shrimp, breaded shrimp, garlic shrimp, shrimp rings...”

-I don't understand when people ask “is it good?” about products that are obviously going to be good, like apple pie. How can an apple pie NOT taste good? I'm honest when they ask for my opinion but when its about things like that, what do they expect? “No actually, we only use the apples with worm holes and bruises. We make sure not to wash the dirt off of them and we definitely made sure we scratch our ass and not wash our hands before their made.” Its an apple pie, of course its good.

-People like to complain about stuff they get for free.

GreedyCustomer : “Oh no, my FREE pizza only has 5 pepperonis. Can I trade it?”

MyHead : “Are you fucking kidding me? Why don't you send your “pathetic” 5-pepperoni pizza to Africa where it would be a blessing. Asshole.”

Me in Real Life : “Of course, no worries!”

-Some people who return products are hilarious. Some have legit reasons for returning (freezer burnt, weird taste, etc), but some excuses are ridiculous. Ex: “I need to return this french onion soup! It is watery!” Um, yea soup is usually of a watery texture. It's great when you politely appologize and offer to give them their money back but they insist on ranting some more. “It looks like sewage water! Its brown! Might as well just drink form the sewer!” Again, french onion soup is SUPPOSED TO BE BROWN and please help yourself to the sewer outside if you prefer.

-Sometimes when I am alone at work and it is quiet, I look at myself in the mirror and sing “I'm too sexy for my fleece,” referring to my fleece uniform of course.

-Many customers butcher the pronunciation of products. Examples below:

Quesadillas = Quest-a-dilly-as

Shanghai Beef = Shrang-ou-lah Beef or Sri-Lanka Beef

Spanakopita = spank-a-pita

Malfalda Noodles = Alfalfa Noodles

Hors d'oeuvres = Whore doves

Chateaubriand = Chant-a-brand

Filet Mignon = Fill-it Mig-non

Louisiana Wings = Lose-anna Wings

Chicken Kiev = Chicken Ky-vee

Nanaimo Bars = Ni-oh-me Bars, Nana Bars, Nom-mo-mee Bars

-We have a Show and Tell policy where we open boxes and allow customers look at the product before they can purchase it. I've had several customers ask me if they can “take a look inside my box.” Not laughing in their face is hard.

Thank you for reading!:)

Love, Chelsea

                                                               Picture of the Day

                  I die laughing every time I look at this. I mean, my face is a vision of beauty.