Who doesn’t like to earn a little cash

I love being paid for taking surveys. Well the ones I have been on have been a no go. Mostly Spammers sites. So I decide to do some research and fell upon Cash crate. I am already on my way to my first check. I do advise you to create another email account just so you can keep up with when your surveys are coming in and such.

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Finding God and closing chapters in my life

I’ve had a pretty neat childhood, from traveling to simply family time. You could say I was bit on the spoiled side but I had something deeper going on. I was a child/teen with an heartache that made me someone I was not. I was hit with a tradegy that shouldn’t of happened, yet it happens for a lot of people.  Losing someone. Now I was nowhere near close to my dad and there are a lot of people out there growing up and have grown up not knowing family. In a sense I became my dad, doing things he was doing, drinking to numb the pain, or trying to get a high to get a moment of happiness. I became consumed with escaping and I drove so many away. I drove myself away from my own self. I couldn’t stand being me. Then something happened. I got pregnant at just 19 and my whole life begin to take a brighter path. I eventually found God after having my daughter and life has been nothing but in the up swing. I have my lows here and there but bounce back a lot faster now. Now the greatest thing is, I am finally closing another chapter in my life, my dad. I did something I hadn’t done in 12 years nor had ever thought about. It was looking at the items my dad had left behind. He had little to almost nothing. This man lived in a parking lot booth and partied like a 21 year old. What i found in that little backpack was the picture of virgin Mary, a rosary, a pocket watch a bunch of junk, his wallet, and much more. Looking at this stuff as an adult opened my eyes and made me realize my dad was here, wrote this stuff and really did think of us children. He just couldn’t do the write thing because he was so sick. I honestly believe my dad was religious but he couldn’t connect with God because he was in so much turmoil himself. He had dug himself so far in, that there was no turning back. He was a criminal and a alcoholic. Going through his stuff tonight help me close a very big chapter in my life. Now it’s not going to be easy and I still have a hard time moving on but i feel with God’s help, looking at his things, things are finally getting packed up and put away in storage and that goodbye will really mean goodbye.

USA TODAY: Flight 370: The newest leading theories

From USA TODAY

Flight 370: The newest leading theories

The disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 sparks more questions than answers as 26 countries search for the plane more than a week and a half after its last signal faded away. The mystery of what happened to the plane and the 239 people aboard deepens each day when partial explanations that emerge unravel. If there was a catastrophe – a crash or a breakup in flight – where is the wreckage? If somebody commandeered the flight, either the plane landed safely or there was a crash. But where, in a circle of possibilities more than twice the width of the United States, are the answers? “First off, they’ve got to find the darn thing,” said William Waldock, who teaches aviation safety at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Arizona.

http://usat.ly/1fWR5bS

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This is only the beginning…..

I close my eyes. Its 12 years later and I can still see the man that forever changed my life, lying on that bed, unconscious, barley there. That man was my dad. He was an alcoholic and his drinking is what killed him. I was 11 years old. I have very vague memory of that fatal trip to Denver, Colorado but I have found certain memories pop up sporadically.

Let’s go back to the beginning. Let me explain to the best of my ability about the man I call my dad.  I can only pause and think hard. There is nothing, I know nothing about my dad, except for the times, he would appear in front of our house, or be over at Little Dukes, Or when he called the house and hang up. Those are the memories I have. There is no special memory of my father tucked in my heart. Although, I get to hear bits and pieces of him, I seem to forget them. It’s like I’m afraid to hold on to him, a fear of being too attached to somebody that is already gone but in fact I’m already attached to his death, clingy to it for dear life.

So I am laying everything out. My whole heart, in the 12 years I have not let go. I had so much anger, hatred, and disappointment towards my dad. I should have easily moved on with my life but how do you manage to do that when you hear, you’re a splitting image of your dad. Truth is, I am, and so is my older sister.

This is the most I have opened up about my father. The most I have let myself admit out loud. I can’t sit around mourning over my dad anymore. For me this is a new beginning.