NataLife

I never saw myself as “good looking” as a child and teen. I have found that now in my mid 20’s, I have “come into my body” My face is what people would called pretty, even beautiful. My body as well. I find myself still trying to find myself in heart and soul when society says I should jump on this opportunity of good looks. “Turn heads, get laid, get a hot boyfriend, make people jealous” and so on. I object to this way of thinking! No. My faith and inner beauty is still the most important thing to me. How can I BE a better person, and not be told constantly to just be simply better looking.

think before you act.

just saying….

Alternator round 2

Car: Nissan Sentra 1994

Weather: Cold Night, Snowy. Silent.

Let me set this up for you. My poor old little car had a strange habit of eating through alternators. I never had to replace a battery in the car. Instead I went through 3 alternators in 4 years.

I will bring you back to alternator #2 its January. It’s a silent snow covered night. I should be inside sipping hot coco or something. Instead I am outside quietly setting up the trickle charger on my car battery muttering profanities softly, with a flash light in my mouth.

Since this was the second alternator I was pretty aware why all this was happening and how much money I did not have to fix it till I got paid.

So I  busy myself making sure I have a good connection and that I am getting aps off the meatier from the second extension cored I tried stringing from the garage.

It was so quiet that I could hear my heart beating in my red ears.

My little part of earth was experience a brief complete silence.

When from right behind me in the garage somewhere that could not have been 4 feet from my head a noise.

O what a noise so loud and strange I screamed a stream that no one heard over the other piercing the silence of my mind and place.

I felt myself go hysterical briefly for I feared my death would be attached to the noise.

The 2^nd second it was happening it was over.

I now was flashlight-less as it had fallen into the snow. Curled up in the fetal position almost under my front bumper.

I was breathing like I had run from an ax murderer.

After discovering I had not wet myself I got up and marched right into the garage making the door crash into the broom collection in the corner.

I said some chose words inquiring what on God’s green earth are you doing?

To my dad hunched over his own car with earmuffs on, said. “I am setting up my new horn. It’s an Awooooooga horn.”

I was so mad I said some other chose words I am not proud of, along the lines of “Lord have F”*ng mercy”

I went back out in the cold and finished my work angrily.

Since that day the only thing I have heard louder was lightning.

Oh my head…

It’s so loud

Car: Nissan Sentra 1994

Weather: warm dry, summer.

The summer before my senior year of high school I was given my first car.

It was a great way to get from my house to the boy friend’s house but I had no air.

As I was rolling off the neighborhood 25 mph street enjoying the breezes from my forward thought before I left to roll (yes I had to manually ROLL all the windows down) the windows down. That was my down fall. Because there was no traffic and I wanted more air in the car I hit the gas. As the first bit of acceleration was felt in my seat a simultaneously a roaring engine and terrible grinding noise was coming from the car.

It was so loud at the moment I went to plug my ears to avoid the pain. To then quickly realize that was no possible because that would require me to take my hands off the wheel while driving. Ok I had just started driving but I knew that much. Lucky for me, I did not get to the state rout I was about to turn onto. It had a 40 mile per hour speed limit and people rude enough to run me over without a thought.  Also lucky that there was a car wash and a large place to park and look to see what was happing to my “New” car.

I got out not wanting to look put my hands down on the plastering hot black top and put my head to the side.

There lying like a wedge agent me going any further, was the whole exhaust pipe severed at the pivot joint where it comes out of the engine.

At this point I had just got my first job. With that pay I had just weeks before bought a pre pay cell phone. (This was 2003, not “cool”) I called the boyfriend at the time and he drove the 5 blocks down to where I was. Then called under my car with a cut mettle coat hanger and pulled my exhaust pipe off the black top.

Standing up from my car and checking the burns on his arms he said “Now you can drive home.

I drove with no excuse for 3 months.

It was so loud that when I would leave work. All my coworkers smokers or not would take a smoke brake and come outside to watch me leave.

For when I did, the noise my car made on startup would set off every alarm system sitting in the parking lot, all at once.

I recently decided that journaling needs to be a part of my life for a healthy mind and spirit.

Being your own interviewer is a good way to stimulate deep thoughts.

So I have found some good questions that I will stimulate such a discussion, story time and deep thinking I crave.

If you would like to join me I will be posting the question up so you may reply.

I will not post them if you request it not be shared.

However if they are amazing writing and you let me, I will post them on my blog.

Happy writing,

~Nat

I was greeted today with the usual morning text messages from the usual suspects. One of which is my cousin. I love her dearly; she told me she was watching a rerun of the doctor Oz show with Rosie O’Donnell on as the guest. She said “your mom needs to watch this episode; she is talking about being overweight”

            My mother has been overweight, my whole life. She eats her feelings, has diabetes and complains when asked to do physical stuff. It’s frustrating to love her and see herself, selfishly digging her grave because she does not know any other way to make herself happy.

            That being said I watch the program and Rosie talked on the show about how she knows a lot about why she knows what she does is wrong but still dose it anyway. “Cut to me, alone, with an Oreo.” It got me thinking about a conversation my mom and dad had just the day before that made my dad angry. My mom was beating the usual dead horse with the conversation about why she was, the way she was. It was about how she did not know how to cope with her dad’s alcoholism and her mother’s insanity and untimed abandonment. “I am just trying to understand it so I can move on and not be depressed.” “But you still are.” My Dad would say “This is the same crap you brought up 20 years ago when we were in consoling. Remember we spend a ton of money so we could get over these issues?” “If you still talking about it and your depressed over it, it’s all talk and you’re not over it, and that is why you can’t lose wait” “You can’t keep pointing the blame at your dead parents”

            This got me thinking, hmm. Maybe I could help her and we can take a walk today to get lunch. So that is what I did. I told her we were going to lunch got her outside and said “we are walking” the groans stated but I insisted…(by telling her to “o Dear God, don’t start”) so we walked the 1 mile to the restaurant. It was a beautiful day! No one was out because the Bears game was on. It was a great way to enjoy the day and get some exercise.

            When we got home however I sat down for just a second to turn the end of the football game on and she sat down also. She sat down though with a huge bowl of chocolate ice-cream. I was mad. I don’t get mad vary easy. Don’t get me wrong I love ice-cream! But come on. I just heard you complaining about how you are overweight and unhappy and I try to help, you complain about me helping you and then undo the thing we just did. I said “why are you eating that? We just went for a walk.” She said “because” I said “that is way too much, why did you take so much, you could have like ½ of that, that is so un healthy/” “Because I want it, ok.” She said. It was like a slap in the face. I was so angry I left, I did not say anything and I did not stand up for what I did as a gift of my time and self and I should have.

            I told my cousin the same story. She understood why I was upset and clarified some things for me that I could not put my finger on.

“She is like a child, a 12 year old stuck in a 50 year old body, it’s like she will not let the little fat kid die.” This also got me thinking.

            Yes it’s easier to sit around. But is it better? No. There is no growth there for me. There is no growth there for anyone I think. I want to fight for my life, because I have a very good bad example of how to lie down and surrender to the things that want to keep us down. The devils that keep us away a happy person we can be even in struggle. I like to say “hurts so good” when I am getting a good workout burn. My mother thinks that is just pain. I have been looking at and striving for personal growth ever since I needed to scrape my flat, fat and broken self off the floor of my soul and get to work making a new and better self. First it was moving on. Now it’s making the best person I can be, for no one but me and my God!.

After all this I needed a mental break. That means Tumblr dash trash! Bo yeah! Right away I saw a quote and sent it to my cousin. It was so perfect just want I needed to hear and see. Halleluiah!

It went like this

~ “Plant your own Garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” ~ Veronica a. Shoffstall, (After a While)

My mom sits and waits for people to bring her flowers. And they will never come.

I will NOT be like that

I hope this inspired you. I can’t help you tend your garden but I can give you seeds that worked in mine. I will also tell you how beautiful your garden is because of all your hard work and love.

I have heard it said that the best version of yourself is what you should strive for and its hidden inside you and you need to bring it out in yourself. I respectfully disagree. The best version of yourself is in leaving your old self behind grabbing on to the next rung of the latter of what you’re going to be and punching your old self in the face. Because let’s face it. Your old self had good and bad quality. But the better version of yourself is not in this person waiting to be “brought to the service” The best version of yourself is in the moments you did not give up. The moments you had with friends The night you were going to stay in and you didn’t The day you bothered when you never did before. The long way The short cut that gave you a buses The Faith you acted on. And the people that want you to get there. The best version of yourself is out there, not in you. You will be a million miles away from your old self when you finally look back to see if they followed you. and to your delight they won’t be there. Do your new awesome self a favor and don’t call that lazy person back to be with you! WORK IT, LIVE! Run Away! Right where you are.

1. Indiana Dunes

2. Staved rock

3. the art institute of Chicago

4. Go Fishing in lake Michigan

5. Baseball game!

6. Paint Balling

7. Run a 5 K!

This is so true. I would thank them for it all.

(Source: fearlessknightsandfairytales, via takarnage)

#shame #messy…yep

Word!

(Source: s-traw-berry-fields)

I was just informed that the year i was born, Gas prices in the USA was only $0.79. 

I will have to fill up after work and the price i will get it at will be more like $4.59

Looks like i will be riding my bike to work, 17 miles there, 17 miles back.

word! 

(Source: bestpostarchive.com, via sc4rfield-deactivated20120516)

be humble,

(Source: everythingisstatic, via runningischeaperthantherapy)

meh!

(Source: h0rdep)