I probably love you. <3
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I’m sitting in front of my laptop, with an extra monitor next to it, (for extra badassedry) and a large glass of sweet tea. Isn’t this the latest way to develop cancer? It seems there is a new way every single day. And every single day I develop a new fear. I was taught how to turn on my listening ears and be polite. I don’t think I ever learned how to turn them off. I hear everything everyone says and it consumes my brain until I am instilled with this irrational fear of getting aids from the toilet seat in walmart. My cat gets out (not trained in the outside world whatsoever) and I’m almost too afraid to leave the house in fear that I might drive down the road and see him all over the road. When I see something in the road, I will purposefully not look at it, and try and convince myself it’s a rolled up dirty piece of cardboard. Because my heart truly aches for whatever might really be laying in the road. I have never really lived through something very traumatic. I’ve been through some nasty heartbreaking stuff, but nothing to make me as timid as I am. I ask my boyfriend to text me as soon as he gets where he’s going… always. He’s good enough to do it for me. I believe that’s rare. I have never experienced someone not coming home. So I don’t know why I worry so much that he won’t. He is a very good guy to me. He respects (most) of my irrational fears and does what he can to remedy them. But every day I still get up and worry that we aren’t meant for each other because we have a hard time following the rules that we set for ourselves. No one ever told us how hard this would be. We have love coming from every place in our lives and yet we still have a problem believing what people might think of us if they knew the struggles we face as a couple. I spend most of my days comparing my “behind the scenes” to other peoples “highlight reel” And I know that’s no way to live, but why do I have such a hard time NOT doing that? I’ve never met anyone like Casey Michael McGuire. He is the most important person in my life, and for whatever reason I always find myself taking him for granted and almost expecting to be let down. Even though he’s so very rarely let me down. And even then it was understandable where he and I had both gone wrong in the situation. Am I the only one who feels these things? Am I completely screwed up? There are all kinds of tests in magazines and online “how to tell what he’s thinking by the way he sleeps at night” “Do you point the right way? Or are you going to hell because you start counting on your fingers with your thumb?” Cause if you’re going to hell by the way you count I might as well stop playing by anyone’s rule book. If Casey and I are destined for failure by the way we say goodbye at the door we might as well give up right now, right? The Lord tells us that if we live in His ways, we live in His will. And that’s right where I want to be. I am constantly scared that my God is disappointed in me though. I just want to say “But Jeeeesus. YOU know her fake tan was awful! You wouldn’t have whispered about that?!” But He wouldn’t. Love and be loved. I don’t have a problem being loved… most of the time. But I do have a problem loving sometimes. This is not be a preachy blog, but this is my vent blog, and this is what’s on my mind. You’re welcome to ditch at any time, I won’t know about it. I know that my God given gift is people skills. I can engage and connect with just about anyone. I grew up being the entertainer for my family. I am a goofy motherfucker. I love my gift. But I also don’t. I don’t like people. And I don’t like being nice when they are mean. My boyfriends God given gift is generosity. Sometimes we have a hard time seeing eye to eye on what the other is doing. But we do our best to.. well, do our best, really. I want to bang my head into the wall because of this awful cycle I go through every day. I should probably start showing signs of crazy by pulling my eyebrows out or something. The way loved ones have left me in the dust throughout my life is probably part of the reason I have a hard time trusting the love people say they have for me. I’ve had my heart shattered probably 5 or 6 times in my life. Maybe I’m just waiting for that next person who swears he’s always there for me to decide I’m not worth it… in the back of my mind I feel very insufficient. Damn you, who told me I wasn’t. And shame on me, for letting myself believe all those door slams, personal jabs, and disappearances being my fault. 2 Corinthians 10:12 says “When they measure themselves with themselves and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding and behave unwisely” My God says that I am good enough… and I need to learn to live that way. Caring less about what people think of my REAL tan, MY big mistakes, unmakeuped face, fear of going to the bathroom in public, and fear of being unloved; and care more about receiving as much of the love that is intended for me, and will keep me walking in the light always. I want to always be a mirror that directly shines the light of God on everyone I meet. And after working through all these thoughts, I feel better. And if you read this, awesome. Gohld shtar. I hope it helped you in some way. God loves you no matter what. I am living proof of that.
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Chernobyl, 27 Years Later
For more photos from Chernobyl, check out the Chernobyl and Pripyat (Припять) location pages, or search for photos tagged with #Pripyat, #Припять, #Chernobyl and #Чернобыль.
On this day 27 years ago, an explosion at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant near the city of Pripyat, Ukraine, killed dozens of people and released a plume of radioactive fallout that would eventually require the relocation of more than 350,000 people.
The event ranks as the worst nuclear disaster in history. The area immediately surrounding Chernobyl is still too radioactive for habitation and will remain so for another 20,000 years. Until recently, an exclusion zone of 19 miles (30 km) extended in all directions from the power plant, which is now entombed in concrete. In 2011, however, Ukraine opened up this area to tourists, giving the world a peek into a town abandoned and untouched for nearly three decades.
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Santa’s helper!
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Apparently this is NOT what your coolant should look like… I’m thankful for a mechanic boyfriend.
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Car talk
People always say “if these walls could talk” when reffering to what they are like behind closed doors… What if your steering wheel could talk? People alone in their car seem to think they can’t be seen. I know I would be extermely curious as to what my steering wheel would have to say about it’s previous owners, but then put to shame when it spoke of me. This is definetely one of those “look at yourself from someone else’ shoes” blogs. Think about what yours would say about you as I tell you (because of course you’d like to know) what mine would say about me. Now, I don’t know what kind of personality my steering wheel would have, but my car as a whole I believe would be a wise old lady. She’s knowlegable in her old age, that’s for sure. And she holds it together very well despite all her minor inconviences like oil leaks and weak ball joints. I think she would tell you I’m a very sensitive person. And I’ve probably cried more in my car than all her other owners. But it’s not just a “wah pity me” cry, it’s a “had a hard day, pour me a cold one and oh by the way, get off my feet gimme somethin’ to eat, fix me up my favorite treat” cry. (who gets that quote?) She would probably also tell you she is very sick of any version of the song “Crazy Love”, and Brantely Gilberts “You don’t know her like I do.” Those are the ones I play on repeat… no matter what kind of day it’s been. Those are crank-as-loud-as-it-goes songs. She would tell you I can get entirely too violent when you drive 10 miles under the speed limit, or make a complete stop to make a right turn. She would probably lock the doors on me if she could. Also that I truely do speak -out loud- to myself… constantly. About parking jobs, stupid drivers, the way I park, and about how much I love chick fil a. She would probably tell you to take notice that it seems impossible for me to drive without a drink-no matter what the distance. For that, I blame my mother. She always has a big cup of tea in hand as she leaves the house. It only feels natural to have a full bladder every time I arrive somewhere. My car definetely knows when I’ve been somewhere that I had a bad time, and it knows when I’m headed somewhere I don’t want to go. Basically, when I’m alone, I don’t hold back. Who does? My car knows what I’m thinking… always. It’s probably a good thing she can’t talk. -
Cousin time <3
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Conquered look out mountain!
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#flashbackfriday when I could eat the Sun no probz.
I don't post often.. but I post what inspires me/ makes me angry/ makes me smile.
