<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IGSXY4fSp7ImA9WhRQEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704</id><updated>2011-12-06T15:52:08.835-08:00</updated><category term="The Frenchman" /><category term="Scheduled" /><category term="The Sailor" /><category term="The Boy Next Door" /><category term="The Chief" /><title>The Chelsea Diaries</title><subtitle type="html">A wild, carefree woman on a quest for the once-in-a-lifetime love.  Passionate in everything she does, girls want to be her and guys want to be with her!</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/TheChelseaDiaries" /><feedburner:info uri="thechelseadiaries" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQFR3k4fyp7ImA9WhRQEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-813988777993143813</id><published>2011-12-04T06:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T14:38:36.737-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-04T14:38:36.737-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Frenchman" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scheduled" /><title>L'homme français, la partie cinq</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/813988777993143813/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-cinq.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/813988777993143813?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/813988777993143813?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/9Ahqs9Jwbf0/lhomme-francais-la-partie-cinq.html" title="L'homme français, la partie cinq" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;     Normal   0               false   false   false      EN-US   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                     MicrosoftInternetExplorer4                                                   &amp;lt;![endif]--&amp;gt;&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wjS1fc8A0qu_w8riCziH2_2RsAY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wjS1fc8A0qu_w8riCziH2_2RsAY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wjS1fc8A0qu_w8riCziH2_2RsAY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wjS1fc8A0qu_w8riCziH2_2RsAY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/9Ahqs9Jwbf0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-cinq.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MARXY6eyp7ImA9Wx5aEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-8437161803058262888</id><published>2010-11-05T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T17:24:04.813-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-06T17:24:04.813-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Sailor" /><title>The Sailor, part 5</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/8437161803058262888/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/11/sailor-part-5.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8437161803058262888?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8437161803058262888?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/6T1MXDiR92Q/sailor-part-5.html" title="The Sailor, part 5" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;     Normal   0               false   false   false      EN-US   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                     MicrosoftInternetExplorer4                                                   &amp;lt;![endif]--&amp;gt;&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZdL5qA7E-sftmqJDHBNWcIbRYAQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZdL5qA7E-sftmqJDHBNWcIbRYAQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZdL5qA7E-sftmqJDHBNWcIbRYAQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZdL5qA7E-sftmqJDHBNWcIbRYAQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/6T1MXDiR92Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/11/sailor-part-5.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08DQnk_fip7ImA9WhdRFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-2228463870845502719</id><published>2010-10-21T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T11:44:33.746-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-05T11:44:33.746-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Frenchman" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scheduled" /><title>L'homme français, la partie quatre</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/2228463870845502719/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-quatre.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/2228463870845502719?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/2228463870845502719?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/qpteFZ0q1Bg/lhomme-francais-la-partie-quatre.html" title="L'homme français, la partie quatre" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;     Normal   0               false   false   false      EN-US   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                     MicrosoftInternetExplorer4                                                   &amp;lt;![endif]--&amp;gt;&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ceP3F9ByRqnx9nSNX-08PyFGCw4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ceP3F9ByRqnx9nSNX-08PyFGCw4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ceP3F9ByRqnx9nSNX-08PyFGCw4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ceP3F9ByRqnx9nSNX-08PyFGCw4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/qpteFZ0q1Bg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-quatre.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYFSHk8fip7ImA9Wx5UFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-6601675123775306606</id><published>2010-10-14T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T10:01:59.776-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-20T10:01:59.776-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Frenchman" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scheduled" /><title>L'homme français, la partie trois</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/6601675123775306606/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-trois.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/6601675123775306606?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/6601675123775306606?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/eablAXvUiNc/lhomme-francais-la-partie-trois.html" title="L'homme français, la partie trois" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;     Normal   0               false   false   false      EN-US   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                     MicrosoftInternetExplorer4                                                   &amp;lt;![endif]--&amp;gt;&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mKI68c9P6nUVkQdTZ2msNPghva4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mKI68c9P6nUVkQdTZ2msNPghva4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mKI68c9P6nUVkQdTZ2msNPghva4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mKI68c9P6nUVkQdTZ2msNPghva4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/eablAXvUiNc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-trois.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcDQno_eyp7ImA9Wx5UFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-8925053210742159198</id><published>2010-10-11T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T10:01:13.443-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-20T10:01:13.443-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Chief" /><title>The Chief, part 6</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/8925053210742159198/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/chief-part-6.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8925053210742159198?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8925053210742159198?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/mZwQSRO4WoY/chief-part-6.html" title="The Chief, part 6" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;     Normal   0               false   false   false      EN-US   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                     MicrosoftInternetExplorer4                                                   &amp;lt;![endif]--&amp;gt;&amp;lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5a4YdC3bqP5OGCfaGld-G_C3ipY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5a4YdC3bqP5OGCfaGld-G_C3ipY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5a4YdC3bqP5OGCfaGld-G_C3ipY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5a4YdC3bqP5OGCfaGld-G_C3ipY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/mZwQSRO4WoY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/chief-part-6.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAARnw8eSp7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-8971014094429338251</id><published>2010-10-07T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:12:27.271-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:12:27.271-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Frenchman" /><title>L'homme Français, la partie deux</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/8971014094429338251/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-deux.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8971014094429338251?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8971014094429338251?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/rrzx5eWC5Rc/lhomme-francais-la-partie-deux.html" title="L'homme Français, la partie deux" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I woke up early the next morning.  I was looking forward to a day of peace and quiet after a trying week.  I had some things that needed to be done but weren’t pressing.  I laid in bed, debating upon how to start my day.  Laundry needed to be done.  Boxes needed to be unpacked.  Life needed to be organized in general.I decided my first order of the day would have to be some exercise.  Otherwise I
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uv5BeXGyWSosKBSWjMFuBhFoUI4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uv5BeXGyWSosKBSWjMFuBhFoUI4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uv5BeXGyWSosKBSWjMFuBhFoUI4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uv5BeXGyWSosKBSWjMFuBhFoUI4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/rrzx5eWC5Rc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/10/lhomme-francais-la-partie-deux.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAMRXw6eSp7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-8647034363494889876</id><published>2010-09-07T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:13:04.211-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:13:04.211-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Chief" /><title>The Chief, part 5</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/8647034363494889876/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/09/chief-part-5.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8647034363494889876?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8647034363494889876?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/JGPt8s3Llv0/chief-part-5.html" title="The Chief, part 5" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Being with Chief isn’t that bad.  He spoils me.  We go to out to dinner every night, shopping, movies, and pretty much anything I want to do.  He encourages me to see friends.  Especially my female friends.  Oh how I miss hanging out with Jaimie and Maryanne!  I saw them briefly while I was working there but it wasn’t enough time.“Alright, I’ve got some free time coming up.  What’s your schedule 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZvGLDLcs9Alo5jT0CEQ-__80AMI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZvGLDLcs9Alo5jT0CEQ-__80AMI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZvGLDLcs9Alo5jT0CEQ-__80AMI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZvGLDLcs9Alo5jT0CEQ-__80AMI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/JGPt8s3Llv0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/09/chief-part-5.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4DSH05eip7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-5880156078267633952</id><published>2010-08-27T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Sailor" /><title>The Sailor, part 4</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/5880156078267633952/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/sailor-part-3_27.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/5880156078267633952?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/5880156078267633952?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/YFr_vUakF1M/sailor-part-3_27.html" title="The Sailor, part 4" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Sailor was reluctant to let me go.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  I needed some space.  I had to think about what happened.  I got dressed quickly after using the bathroom.  I kissed him goodbye and left.I didn’t go home.  I couldn’t.  Not yet.  Instead, I made a fatal mistake.  I called Chuck.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PLXiAULu5D-WOE65k09Abv35Bjk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PLXiAULu5D-WOE65k09Abv35Bjk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PLXiAULu5D-WOE65k09Abv35Bjk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PLXiAULu5D-WOE65k09Abv35Bjk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/YFr_vUakF1M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/sailor-part-3_27.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QBQ348cCp7ImA9Wx5RE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-5947898125758992087</id><published>2010-08-20T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T16:02:32.078-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-20T16:02:32.078-07:00</app:edited><title>NEW  BLOG!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/5947898125758992087/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-blog.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/5947898125758992087?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/5947898125758992087?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/M45gfU32zVA/new-blog.html" title="NEW  BLOG!" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">http://randomchelseathoughts.blogspot.com/
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4NJlINHiTONUpFlHXQii3dKG4-k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4NJlINHiTONUpFlHXQii3dKG4-k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4NJlINHiTONUpFlHXQii3dKG4-k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4NJlINHiTONUpFlHXQii3dKG4-k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/M45gfU32zVA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-blog.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAARnw8eSp7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-8293590458707569524</id><published>2010-08-20T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:12:27.271-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:12:27.271-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Frenchman" /><title>L’homme Français  (aka The Frenchman)</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/8293590458707569524/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/lhomme-francais-aka-frenchman.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8293590458707569524?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8293590458707569524?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/l6sJwS60P9Y/lhomme-francais-aka-frenchman.html" title="L’homme Français  (aka The Frenchman)" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I am going to have a difficult time not writing this chapter in French.  I spent 2 years in Marseilles.  Work, work, work.  That was my world and technically, I didn’t have the time for relationships.  I had just been burned in what could be noted as the shortest relationship of my life.  That’s what I get for allowing myself to be swayed by some jerk’s sweet talk.  Ugh.  I’m just grateful I only
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yoPTz2FdZqe9X_WlLgydOb1gLzA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yoPTz2FdZqe9X_WlLgydOb1gLzA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yoPTz2FdZqe9X_WlLgydOb1gLzA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yoPTz2FdZqe9X_WlLgydOb1gLzA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/l6sJwS60P9Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/lhomme-francais-aka-frenchman.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4DSH05eip7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-5620569451156124744</id><published>2010-08-16T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Sailor" /><title>The Sailor, part 3</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/5620569451156124744/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/sailor-part-3.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/5620569451156124744?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/5620569451156124744?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/XT5ydPKn7-I/sailor-part-3.html" title="The Sailor, part 3" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">“I love you,” was all I could say.  It summed up all the unusual emotions I had been having.“I love you as well,” Sailor replied.I didn’t know if anything else needed to be said.  He obviously had more on his mind.“I love looking into your eyes.  They are so dark and mysterious.  They draw me in.”I chewed my bottom lip, unsure how to respond or if a response was even needed.“We have one problem 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BvD47noLjOsdNoagoV0kvwJoq5g/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BvD47noLjOsdNoagoV0kvwJoq5g/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BvD47noLjOsdNoagoV0kvwJoq5g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/BvD47noLjOsdNoagoV0kvwJoq5g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/XT5ydPKn7-I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/sailor-part-3.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUERXc5fCp7ImA9Wx5SFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-1411932925174637619</id><published>2010-08-11T08:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T08:23:24.924-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-11T08:23:24.924-07:00</app:edited><title>QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1411932925174637619?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1411932925174637619?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/_NgNeFdyvq4/questions-and-answers.html" title="QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><content type="html">I receive emails on a regular basis asking questions.  I'm pretty certain that some of them will be redundant so I will be creating a separate blog to answer all your questions.  If the question is on your mind, please check there or email me.  I will keep your name private!Ask me anything and I will answer to the best of my opinion.  No topic is off limits!~Chelsea~
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RPBYQ_DeyvVoQ-MZ-P16fvn1lNU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RPBYQ_DeyvVoQ-MZ-P16fvn1lNU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RPBYQ_DeyvVoQ-MZ-P16fvn1lNU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RPBYQ_DeyvVoQ-MZ-P16fvn1lNU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/_NgNeFdyvq4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/questions-and-answers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAMRXw6eSp7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-8538219821241231849</id><published>2010-08-09T05:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:13:04.211-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:13:04.211-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Chief" /><title>The Chief, part 4</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/8538219821241231849/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/chief-part-4.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8538219821241231849?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/8538219821241231849?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/FkkcKWq13U4/chief-part-4.html" title="The Chief, part 4" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">We finally arrive at his apartment and unload my luggage from his truck.  Once inside the apartment, he drops my suitcase on the floor and pulls me into a tight hug.  His lips are pressed against the hollow of my neck.  I melted right on the spot.  Chief knew where my weak spots were.  I had instantly become his slave.I pulled away from him to look into his eyes.  His hands were on my hips as I 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zHnTERQHBERKX1qnIqB8RK72nc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zHnTERQHBERKX1qnIqB8RK72nc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zHnTERQHBERKX1qnIqB8RK72nc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6zHnTERQHBERKX1qnIqB8RK72nc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/FkkcKWq13U4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/chief-part-4.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4DSH05eip7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-6176598080307995829</id><published>2010-08-03T15:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Sailor" /><title>The Sailor, part 2</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/6176598080307995829/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/sailor-part-2.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/6176598080307995829?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/6176598080307995829?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/Qf-EA9Kv0PA/sailor-part-2.html" title="The Sailor, part 2" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Sailor was gentle and tender.  He made sure I wanted him before we went any further.  I had wanted him since the day I met him!  Was he nuts?  Could he really not tell that I wanted to spend every waking moment with him?  Hell, I’d spend the rest of my life with him if he asked.We continued kissing for the longest time.  Then Sailor peeled my shirt off and caressed my breasts through my bra.  My 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3iVi_tP0LjWQYYg_4XImexeY_k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3iVi_tP0LjWQYYg_4XImexeY_k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3iVi_tP0LjWQYYg_4XImexeY_k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C3iVi_tP0LjWQYYg_4XImexeY_k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/Qf-EA9Kv0PA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/08/sailor-part-2.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUGSX4yfSp7ImA9Wx5TFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-4605808910611209506</id><published>2010-07-31T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T15:43:48.095-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-31T15:43:48.095-07:00</app:edited><title>TWITTER</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/4605808910611209506/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/twitter.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/4605808910611209506?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/4605808910611209506?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/LsRnr-TfYn8/twitter.html" title="TWITTER" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Chelsea has caved in to the demands of the DARK SIDE!!  She has joined TWITTER!  Come, rescue her from TWITTER HELL!@chelseadiaries~Chelsea~
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TTUbKTAqWzhTmx09VOKMu5A9l28/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TTUbKTAqWzhTmx09VOKMu5A9l28/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TTUbKTAqWzhTmx09VOKMu5A9l28/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TTUbKTAqWzhTmx09VOKMu5A9l28/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/LsRnr-TfYn8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/twitter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAMRXw6eip7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-795855379708181233</id><published>2010-07-30T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:13:04.212-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:13:04.212-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Chief" /><title>The Chief, part 3</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/795855379708181233/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/chief-part-3.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/795855379708181233?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/795855379708181233?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/nUUL3nrpu9s/chief-part-3.html" title="The Chief, part 3" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">I would get through the weekend with him.  He was like a gleeful child when I said yes.  The sad puppy dog look was gone from his face.  We continued the drive to the restaurant in silence.Chief knew of my weakness for authentic Mexican food.  It was no surprise where he took me.  He held my hand as we walked from the car.  Chief has always been a gentleman with the ladies.  I must admit this is 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uKQ4kb5DvqVQy1BFLA0yXJpwNts/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uKQ4kb5DvqVQy1BFLA0yXJpwNts/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uKQ4kb5DvqVQy1BFLA0yXJpwNts/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uKQ4kb5DvqVQy1BFLA0yXJpwNts/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/nUUL3nrpu9s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/chief-part-3.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4DSH05eip7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-1410180959875082708</id><published>2010-07-27T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:16:19.322-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Sailor" /><title>The Sailor, part 1</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/1410180959875082708/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/sailor-part-1.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1410180959875082708?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1410180959875082708?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/1ata6T_zavI/sailor-part-1.html" title="The Sailor, part 1" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">I met Sailor when I was in my teens.  He was a friend of a friend of a friend.  Sailor was green from boot camp and getting ready to go to school for his specialty.  He wasn’t quite 6 feet tall, which was a prerequisite for getting into bed with me, but he had these intense blue eyes that made me melt every time he looked at me.Yes, I know.  This is the second chapter about a man in a uniform.  
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-sfyfVVTMPn0ut95cxHT6LsCmJI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-sfyfVVTMPn0ut95cxHT6LsCmJI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-sfyfVVTMPn0ut95cxHT6LsCmJI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-sfyfVVTMPn0ut95cxHT6LsCmJI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/1ata6T_zavI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/sailor-part-1.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYEQn0zfyp7ImA9Wx5TEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-3451123927149497823</id><published>2010-07-27T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T06:41:43.387-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-27T06:41:43.387-07:00</app:edited><title>HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEB!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/3451123927149497823/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/happy-birthday-deb.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/3451123927149497823?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/3451123927149497823?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/FKSxujID7BM/happy-birthday-deb.html" title="HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEB!!!" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Please join me in wishing one of my faithful readers a happy 30th birthday!  May you have a blessed day!~&amp;lt;3 Chels @&amp;gt;--
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gQGNMbhXnwH9tY5uxfoywYcdRyc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gQGNMbhXnwH9tY5uxfoywYcdRyc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gQGNMbhXnwH9tY5uxfoywYcdRyc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gQGNMbhXnwH9tY5uxfoywYcdRyc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/FKSxujID7BM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/happy-birthday-deb.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4BRXk5cSp7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-6626440683943972337</id><published>2010-07-24T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:15:54.729-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:15:54.729-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Boy Next Door" /><title>The Boy Next Door, part 2</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/6626440683943972337/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/boy-next-door-part-2.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/6626440683943972337?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/6626440683943972337?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/Rc7PW6DNkVM/boy-next-door-part-2.html" title="The Boy Next Door, part 2" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">I couldn’t call him.  I could call him.  I couldn’t call him.  I went back and forth for those days.  I was too shy to call him.  What would I say?  Uh, um, hi, I talked to your mom the other day?  How foolish would that sound?  I liked him.  I mean really, really liked him!  I knew I couldn’t get past saying hello without feeling flustered and tongue-tied.I took his number down and threw it in 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_C5VKC4L2NP4uHzleyGW-mFfcB8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_C5VKC4L2NP4uHzleyGW-mFfcB8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_C5VKC4L2NP4uHzleyGW-mFfcB8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_C5VKC4L2NP4uHzleyGW-mFfcB8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/Rc7PW6DNkVM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/boy-next-door-part-2.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAMRXw6eip7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-1442286659914009208</id><published>2010-07-19T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:13:04.212-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:13:04.212-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Chief" /><title>The Chief, part 2</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/1442286659914009208/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/chief-part-2.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1442286659914009208?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1442286659914009208?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/vQi0f5e11sM/chief-part-2.html" title="The Chief, part 2" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">I knew my luck was going to run out eventually.  I ended up with an assignment on Chief’s base.  I couldn’t avoid him.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him no when he asked me to dinner.  We had been friends for over 10 years.  He knew how to get under my skin.  He knew how to corner me so I couldn’t deny him his request.I felt so weak.Every location I go to, I am given a private office.  I don’t
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Cna5bF6Pcg6nFVGHTUG2vTesigE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Cna5bF6Pcg6nFVGHTUG2vTesigE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Cna5bF6Pcg6nFVGHTUG2vTesigE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Cna5bF6Pcg6nFVGHTUG2vTesigE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/vQi0f5e11sM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/chief-part-2.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4BRXk4eCp7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-1411606251470141162</id><published>2010-07-16T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:15:54.730-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:15:54.730-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Boy Next Door" /><title>The Boy Next Door, part 1</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/1411606251470141162/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/boy-next-door.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1411606251470141162?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/1411606251470141162?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/fyFpO3hsJD4/boy-next-door.html" title="The Boy Next Door, part 1" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Boy lived next door for as long as I can remember.  He is a few years older than I am.  He was my very first crush.  He was tall and muscular, with dark hair.  His eyes felt like could bore holes into you.  Boy always looked at everything with a deep intensity.  Always sent shivers down my spine.At first, I never bothered with him.  He was a boy and boys had cooties.  Hey!  I was only 10!  Boy 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zeAw-hp4hzJutdZqcghF8Zt03wQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zeAw-hp4hzJutdZqcghF8Zt03wQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zeAw-hp4hzJutdZqcghF8Zt03wQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zeAw-hp4hzJutdZqcghF8Zt03wQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/fyFpO3hsJD4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/boy-next-door.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAMRXw6eip7ImA9Wx5VFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-7306019424108084250</id><published>2010-07-09T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T07:13:04.212-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-07T07:13:04.212-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="The Chief" /><title>The Chief, part 1</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/7306019424108084250/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/chief-part-1.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/7306019424108084250?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/7306019424108084250?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/ZN03nLc8870/chief-part-1.html" title="The Chief, part 1" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">I’ve known the Chief since I was in my teens.  He was my late boyfriend’s roommate before Chuck passed.  Chief never held much interest in me until much later, after I had officially become an adult.  It was a simple letter that triggered the unexpected response.I wrote a very provocative letter to Chuck.  It was for Chuck’s eyes only but never stayed that way.  He had the audacity to show it to 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fj27iSGd2J_9HbGzqWqzDGll2dw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fj27iSGd2J_9HbGzqWqzDGll2dw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fj27iSGd2J_9HbGzqWqzDGll2dw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fj27iSGd2J_9HbGzqWqzDGll2dw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/ZN03nLc8870" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/chief-part-1.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcFQ3gycSp7ImA9WxFbEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7742516777145330704.post-4080127598026337408</id><published>2010-07-02T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T09:20:12.699-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-03T09:20:12.699-07:00</app:edited><title>Who Is Chelsea?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/feeds/4080127598026337408/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/who-is-chelsea.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/4080127598026337408?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7742516777145330704/posts/default/4080127598026337408?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~3/LvvqlexRaGQ/who-is-chelsea.html" title="Who Is Chelsea?" /><author><name>Chelsea</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14977281983110684132</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="21" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_6Vuk5_pgH8k/TC9eZYBu0AI/AAAAAAAAAAY/61HUsdYVCP0/S220/23092_580655922_9725_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">I will attest to being a unique breed of womanhood. I have no idea why or how this has happened but it's the reality of my life. I don't do anything out of the ordinary. Yet, I garner the attention of men everywhere. Looks? HA! I have mousy brown hair speckled with gray and dark brown eyes. Not in the least what you would call attractive. Definitely not in the same category with Julia Roberts or,
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WLao1NW0bGvdQzhSjupOyx70uYw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WLao1NW0bGvdQzhSjupOyx70uYw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WLao1NW0bGvdQzhSjupOyx70uYw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WLao1NW0bGvdQzhSjupOyx70uYw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheChelseaDiaries/~4/LvvqlexRaGQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://thechelseadiaries1.blogspot.com/2010/07/who-is-chelsea.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

