IF YOU LIVE IN THE OTTAWA AREA, PLEASE REBLOG THIS.
this is a picture of my car. It was stolen this morning, Feb 18, 2012. License plate: 263 RTG. If you see it, PLEASE call the police to report that you’ve seen a stolen vehicle.
HELP MY GIRL OUT!
I don’t live in Ottawa, but if you do and you see this car, please help my friend out so she can have her car back!!!!!!!
reblogging my own post. COME ON PEOPLE GET THIS OUT THERE!
Sometimes the end is really the beginning. The start of something scary. Taking that first step into the unknown can be quite paralysing. But we do it. Sometimes because we have to. But mostly because we choose to. We choose to go down this path, be it alone or with someone else. This path that you’ve chosen? The one that terrifies you, the one that makes you want to hold yourself and cry? Not too far down this road you’ll be walking with your head high, eyes straight ahead. It’s okay to look back, so long as you remember to keep going. The road might fork. It will mean the end of this particular road. But the beginning of a new one.
Dating sucks. Seriously. I hate not knowing what the other person is thinking, how they feel, did I do something wrong, or are they simply busy. I hate this. I just want to find someone who gets me. It would seem that that is a tall order and can’t be filled. Urgh. Seriously.
| — | Don’t You Wanna Stay- Kelly Clarkson & Jason Aldean |
Look at us for who we are, and not who you’d like us to be. Don’t look at us and think “damn, she’d be *insert thing here*” We are who we are. Love us for it. Love us for crying over sad movies. Love us for being so excited over something we literally can’t contain it so were jumping up and down in our seats. Love us for being childish and going out of our way to jump on a leaf that looks crunchy and being so satisfied when it is. Love us for remembering where we were during our first kiss. Love us for getting so mad at you over something stupid, but then forgiving you 5 seconds later. Love us for taking an hour in the bathroom (we do it for you). Simply love us.
Stop being such asses. Stop leading us on. Stop it. You don’t like sharing us? It shouldn’t be news to you that we don’t like to share you either. Stop making us fall for you and then saying oh, btw, I’m seeing other people. I hope you don’t mind.
Fight for us. When we say things like “I don’t know if I can do this anymore” most of us? Really want you to say “Don’t go. I’ll be better, let’s try again, I need you.” Don’t sit there and watch us walk away. Fight dammit.
why is it, that some days you know exactly who you are, and who you’re supposed to be….but others you feel like you’re drowning.
Things used to be so clear…I think back to my last year of high school and I knew. 5 years later, I am not even close to being the person I wanted to be. I answered this question the same way back then “What do you want to be in 5 years?” I answered: Happy.
5 years later, I can tell you that I am not as happy as I wish I was. In 5 years, I want to be happy. But more then just happy. Content with myself, with my surroundings, with the people in my life.
Maybe all I need is a little bit more time before I can really say “this is where I belong”. I graduated ECE while on my last placement. I never left. I’m still at the same centre. So maybe changing centres in September is what I need. I’m slated to, because my cotract ends.
let’s hope it’s one step closer to being the girl I need to be.
I saved this picture off tumblr months ago….if it’s yours, let me know.
2:05 AM
screech. crash. thumping of my heart.
Open eyes, staring at the curtains. Crawl out of bed, afraid to look.
Pull them open, stare at the car that is totalled.
please, please, open the door, get out, get out, open the door, god, be alive
door creaks open
beside the car, a man climbs over the brick wall that had been hit moments ago
“Are you okay?”
he’s out, he’s walking, mum’s on the phone with 911. Everything will be okay.
“He’s okay!-Dude, where are you going?”
He begins to run, in a zigzag pattern. The bystander runs after him, brings him back.
“You don’t understand, I know you’re trying to help, but let me go!”
As we watch from our third story window, he takes off running again. A friend of the bystander has climbed the fence
follows him
Police officer pulls up, bystander points to the way they went, telling the officer the man is wearing all black
“Follow me, I’ll show you where they are.”
The cop pulls out, tires screeching.
I realize I have the shakes, the cold sweats. Nothing about tonight is okay.
My mother and I watch as another office pulls up, starts doing what she needs to do. Fire truck pulls up, checks the car, lays salt, leaves. The first cop car comes back, the two bystanders walk over the second cop, give their statements. Tow Truck arrives. Takes the car, and the pieces. Everyone leaves.
3:00 AM.
An hour later, nothing is left but the salt on the road from the firemen.
But even that doesn’t last long.
Ever been in a car crash? I have. I’ll never forget it.
3am. On our way home from the airport, getting home from a vacation. All I wanted was to go to bed, snuggle with my cat. I looked over at my sister, she was looking out the window. We were in the backseat. My step-dad was driving. He was going too fast, but all I could think was faster, faster, I just want to get home.
I looked out the windshield. I knew we were going to hit before my mother said “Ron!” I closed my eyes.
They say your senses shut down when your body senses it could die. You can’t hear, you can’t see. Take bungee jumping. My sister couldn’t hear herself screaming when she did it.
Everything was silent. Everything, that is, except for the sound of the car crunching. We did a complete 180 on that stretch of road. When we came to sudden stop, I was afraid to open my eyes, to see what was left. We all confirmed we were okay. That’s when I started crying. I was in shock. I couldn’t even get out of the car by myself. I was just too frozen. My sister, who got whiplash because she had been looking out the window, got out and came around to help me out. Because I was crying, she was so afraid I had been hurt, and hadn’t felt it till then. I was okay physically, but not emotionally. We could have died.
We had people come out from the building beside us, telling us they had called 911, was everyone okay, did we need anything. I stood on the sidewalk in my sister’s arms, crying.
The people in the other car were okay. One was taken to the hospital, just in case.
Car crashes. Everything goes silent except for the noise of the car. I’m eternally thankful that those sounds, were not the last any of my family heard that night.
During most of my life, when people mentioned they had parents who were divorced, or were getting divorced, I never responded with “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I, without fail, would say “at least you still have both of them.” But growing up has made me realize this:
My dad was taken from me. But he would still have been there if he could. I think it might better have lost, but know that had he had the chance, he would be here, then to have a parent make the choice to leave.
I grrew up with my mother. But not because he made the choice to leave. I grew up knowing he didnt want to leave.
So to all of you who I said “at least you have a dad” to, I’m sorry. I was just jealous, and didn’t understand the pain you were going through. Not every situation is like this. But if your parent left you by choice, I am so sorry. You didn’t desrve to feel like your parent didn’t want you.
Because mine wanted me, and that makes all the difference.
I am so sorry for any pain or hurt, or discomfort I have caused you.
