Last night Madame President text me and said, “Tomorrow—you can write about me! ;)” I’m blushing from all the support I have been receiving about my blog. I appreciate all my followers and readers for taking the time to read my posts each day, and I love that people are asking me to write about them. Thankfully these past two days have been made simpler for me because both Annie and Chelsea cured my writer’s block. Plus, I have plenty to say about Chelsea—we have, after all, many, many memories for us to look back and laugh on. Some of them she still doesn’t find funny, but I, on the other hand, find it hilarious.
For anyone who doesn’t know Chelsea personally, this girl has a lead foot. During one of our (greatest) weekends in Portland, she got a little too excited telling me a story while on the freeway back to Beaverton.
- ”So, anyways, he pretended to have trouble opening the door to buy time, and…oh ****!”
- “What??”
- “That was a cop. I’m getting pulled over.”
- “What!? But we’re only four exits away—keep going!”
And, she tried switching lanes to avoid being pulled over, but in a car like that you can’t really hide. An Idaho license plate with a KKG license plate holder obviously screams sorority girl! Lots of crying, mascara rubbing, and pouting to Officer Dalton later resulted in a $400 speeding ticket and an awkward car ride for the next four exits. See, I’m laughing right now, but she probably still doesn’t see the humor. Thank God for her, though, because I would literally be lost without her. She’s a natural navigator, and without her instincts and my GPS we would have ended up in Seattle instead of Vancouver.
In all seriousness though, Chelsea is another influential person in my sorority and in my life. She is, honestly, one of the main reasons I wanted to become a Kappa. She showed my friends and I an amazing time during Vandal Friday our senior year of high school and was one of the deciding factors for me to attend Idaho. Within that Friday night she played with baby ducks, slipped and fell on her butt on a hill at Sigma Chi, and did a root beer keg stand. The experience I had that Vandal Friday made me realize I would be living in a separate world from the town of Moscow if I went to Idaho and became Greek. It was GREAT.
Chelsea and I also, like every other best friend of mine, have a lot in common. Besides her main food groups of bread, mashed potatoes, and turkey she loves ice cream. We can still pass as fifth graders and will celebrate the day we break that 100 mark. ”No, really, Chels, how much do you weigh?” We are both info desk girls and could tell you almost anything there is to know about the university. If we break a nail, our feelings are hurt because we are OCD, as many say, about our French tips. The many Saturdays we spent watching football on the computer may have something to do with that.
Football is another common interest of ours. Last winter break when my parents and I spent a few days in Boise for the Humanitarian Bowl, Chelsea and I had a blast. With water running off the bleachers from melted snow and our fingers, toes, ears, and noses numb from the brisk December air, Chelsea, Laura, Lauren, and I squeezed into our row to cheer our Vandals onto their first bowl victory since 1999. And, after that last second when we scored the two-point conversion and beat Bowling Green, Chelsea and I sprinted—of course, she always makes me sprint at football games—down the stairs, jumped the barrier, and stormed the field in search of Josh. But, considering our Smurf status, it was pretty difficult for us to find him amongst the crowd.
With that, any dreams Chelsea and I had of becoming NFL quarterbacks have been shattered thanks to her wonderful boyfriend. That quarterback game at Chuck E. Cheese was just a small-scale show of the skills Chelsea and I have, Josh. Thank you. I believe Favre could have learned a thing of two from us. But, you are probably right. I guess she and I should just stick with business school.
For anyone who doesn’t know Chelsea personally, this girl has a lead foot. During one of our (greatest) weekends in Portland, she got a little too excited telling me a story while on the freeway back to Beaverton.
- ”So, anyways, he pretended to have trouble opening the door to buy time, and…oh ****!”
- “What??”
- “That was a cop. I’m getting pulled over.”
- “What!? But we’re only four exits away—keep going!”
And, she tried switching lanes to avoid being pulled over, but in a car like that you can’t really hide. An Idaho license plate with a KKG license plate holder obviously screams sorority girl! Lots of crying, mascara rubbing, and pouting to Officer Dalton later resulted in a $400 speeding ticket and an awkward car ride for the next four exits. See, I’m laughing right now, but she probably still doesn’t see the humor. Thank God for her, though, because I would literally be lost without her. She’s a natural navigator, and without her instincts and my GPS we would have ended up in Seattle instead of Vancouver.
In all seriousness though, Chelsea is another influential person in my sorority and in my life. She is, honestly, one of the main reasons I wanted to become a Kappa. She showed my friends and I an amazing time during Vandal Friday our senior year of high school and was one of the deciding factors for me to attend Idaho. Within that Friday night she played with baby ducks, slipped and fell on her butt on a hill at Sigma Chi, and did a root beer keg stand. The experience I had that Vandal Friday made me realize I would be living in a separate world from the town of Moscow if I went to Idaho and became Greek. It was GREAT.
Chelsea and I also, like every other best friend of mine, have a lot in common. Besides her main food groups of bread, mashed potatoes, and turkey she loves ice cream. We can still pass as fifth graders and will celebrate the day we break that 100 mark. ”No, really, Chels, how much do you weigh?” We are both info desk girls and could tell you almost anything there is to know about the university. If we break a nail, our feelings are hurt because we are OCD, as many say, about our French tips. The many Saturdays we spent watching football on the computer may have something to do with that.
Football is another common interest of ours. Last winter break when my parents and I spent a few days in Boise for the Humanitarian Bowl, Chelsea and I had a blast. With water running off the bleachers from melted snow and our fingers, toes, ears, and noses numb from the brisk December air, Chelsea, Laura, Lauren, and I squeezed into our row to cheer our Vandals onto their first bowl victory since 1999. And, after that last second when we scored the two-point conversion and beat Bowling Green, Chelsea and I sprinted—of course, she always makes me sprint at football games—down the stairs, jumped the barrier, and stormed the field in search of Josh. But, considering our Smurf status, it was pretty difficult for us to find him amongst the crowd.
With that, any dreams Chelsea and I had of becoming NFL quarterbacks have been shattered thanks to her wonderful boyfriend. That quarterback game at Chuck E. Cheese was just a small-scale show of the skills Chelsea and I have, Josh. Thank you. I believe Favre could have learned a thing of two from us. But, you are probably right. I guess she and I should just stick with business school.
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