What to Do What to do

I’m finding myself with more and more free time these days, although, I’m broke so it’s not like I can do anything or go anywhere (which is fine by me), and I still get a few sporadic clients who request me during the week so I can’t make plans easily even if I do only work one hour a day.

Which is fine by me since I’m broke anyhow.

And when I do have a client, let’s say at 6 o’lock in the evening, I spend the whole day being cranky in anticipation of massaging that one client.  I wake up late out of spite, I watch anime to help me feel better, ignore the world around me and sulk until 6 o’clock when I massage that one client.  Then I return home in exhaustion and watch even more anime.

Here’s a list of Japanese words I learned:

Sigoy – Awesome

Itadakimasu – let’s eat

Kaza – Mother

Doza – Father

jawnney – see you later

Yadayada – God help us

Hello – Kinichiwa

Thank you – Arigoto

Sorry – Komenesai

Good Morning – Ohio

Stupid – Baka

Don’t you know – dattebayo

Nanee – What?!

(Spelling doesn’t count)

I’ll update this list as my vocabulary grows.  I practice speaking them with my Japanese client.

Today was one of those precarious days where I had no clients.  All I had to do was charge my member clients and pick up a sheet of vinyl at either an art store or hardware store for our shirodhara treatments (so the oil can drip down into the copper vessel without getting everywhere).  I ended up at an art store and after finding exactly what I needed, I picked up a pair of large googly eyes and velcro’d them to the hood of my car.

“There, that’s better.”

On my ride home I wondered to myself, “now what?”  “No money, I feel too defeated to want to call anyone, what do I do with myself?”

I can’t concentrate on more than one thing at a time.  That’s why it’s imperative for me to have a To Do List to avoid getting overwhelmed, but what if there’s nothing left for me to do?  At least, nothing more I can do for today, anyway.

There are two things that I have my heart set on accomplishing:

1)  My art idea (which is such an awesome idea that I must keep it a secret)

2)  My book

Since I can only focus on one thing at a time, I must choose only one of these things.  After much deliberation, I chose to focus on my book.  Mainly because my art idea costs far too much money at this moment.

I found my main character, Frankie (short for Frances), she’s abnormally tall and thin with frizzy red hair, an overbite, horrible rosacea and acne.  She lacks intelligence and has no major talents or qualities that stand out other than being tall and ugly.

That’s my main character, Frankie.  I laugh just thinking about her.  I picked the name Frankie because my Gramps, Dad, and brother are all named Francis and it means “The Free One.”  It’s kind of perfect for the story.

Normally during downtime such as this, I’d be playing a video game.  But thanks to my financial status, I can’t afford one.

Anyway, I’m going to focus on my book and by doing so, I must *read* books.  But I gotta say I feel a bit guilty for laying around listening to audiobooks all day.  Can this truly be productive?

Frankie – “Productive is what productive does is what momma always said.”

You think you’d be a good protagonist?

Frankie – “I don’t know, you gave me such a big over-bite that I’d probably be better off eating apples or opening beer bottles with my teeth all day.”

I’m glad you can laugh at yourself.

Frankie – “I’m not laughing, I’m pissed!  You make me sound like a brain defunct Carrot Top!”

Oh god, my protagonist already hates me…..

Frankie – “You called me ugly!”

Pipe down!  You’re a fictional character in my head.

Frankie – “But you have to treat me like a 3-dementional being with thoughts and feelings in order to pull off writing a compelling novel.”

You’re not really stupid, are you?

Frankie – “People only think that because I look stupid.”

Shut up before I give you a Mike Tyson Lisp.

Maybe a fiery redhead isn’t the best idea here…..

After I get done with my book of the month, I’m going to listen to book one of Harry Potter.  I never read book one and I need pointers on writing in third-person format which JK nails.

I better hop to it – laying around listening to audio books!  At least I can go for a hike or rollerblade too while I’m at it.

You know, in an askew way, my blog is like a To Do list.  It makes me feel like I’m in control.  Anyway, I can’t really explain it, but I like to keep everything in one place and having a blog does that.

Frankie – “How do you think the unthinkable?”

How?

Frankie – “With an itheburg!”

I didn’t actually give you a Mike Tyson lisp.  You can stop that.

Frankie – “You know what a good idea for a story is?”

What?

Frankie – “What we’re doing right now.  Having a dialog like this.  Then you’ll start putting me in weird situations to form somewhat of a plot, and I don’t like the weird situations so I tell you off.”

And?

Frankie – “The more I tell you off, the angrier you get.  So you get back at me by putting me in an even worse situation than before.”

Where’s the plot though?

Frankie – “I find the writer who’s writing YOU!”

Huh, that is kind of a cool idea.  Holy shit, did I just come up with that or did you?

Frankie – “HellOOoo, I’m a 3-dementional character, remember?  I came up with it.”

My mind is fully scrambled.

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Filed under All about me, humor, journal

The Fray

Okay, well, I didn’t go to my book club meeting.  First reason being that they found a human torso across from 300 George street in New Haven – the address where the book club was being held.  Second reason, I wasn’t in the mood.

As insane as it sounds, it was mostly due to the second reason why I didn’t go.

My business made it into August without having to go further into debt so I should feel relieved, right?

Not really, no.  I’m not relieved.  In fact, it seems that this gloom and doom has glued itself in me – sticking to my ribs.  And I can’t get that gruesome image of a human torso out of my head.  It’s muddying up my thoughts.

I’m trying to charge all my member clients.  It’s the most important thing to do on my monthly To Do list.  My livelihood depends entirely on charging those member clients.  But the system keeps acting up and it won’t let me do it and it’s already almost 7 PM.

It’s hard for me to breathe.  I can’t explain this exhaustion.

While the system tries to charge all its members, I’m listening to my new book of the month, The Little Stranger, and it’s scaring the shit out of me.

My Uncle Snooky is having his birthday party today and my Mom really wanted me to be there.  He’s been struggling with health issue’s and both him and my Father lost their best friend a few months ago, so my Mom really wanted me there.

But I can’t breathe.  And I can’t charge my members, I have an image of a bloodied torso in my head, and the exhaustion…..And my new book is scaring the shit out of me!

The anticipation and worry I carried with me into July when I needed an extra $5,000 in the bank, has finally globbed together to form a festering pustule in my chest cavity.  I feel it’s not over yet, the worry.  And now I can’t even charge my freaking members?!

Most things don’t bother me, no, that’s not true.  Everything bothers me.  But as long as I can blame myself for what goes wrong, I feel I’m in control.  I have a handle on things.  But when somethings not in my control, that’s when I want to bury my head and struggle to breathe.

If the system doesn’t fix itself by tomorrow, I’m going to have to manually charge all my members one by one.  I tried fixing it through support but they claim it’s happening due to high volumes.  There’s nothing they can do.

I’m going to look back on this month and let out a big sigh of relief knowing that I’ll never have to worry like this ever again.  That it was all part of the journey.  And I’ve learned a lot about hopelessness and how it fucks up my head – that’s a lesson worth learning I tell ya.

Right now, it’s not that I’m feeling hopeless (there is always an answer and a choice), it’s just that I’m tired.  I’m literally miserable.  I have a heavy heart but you know what’s crazy?  Once I finally charge these bastard members (which will happen whether or not I have to do it one by one), I’ll feel this cinder block rise off my chest.

Something so small and simple as this – something that can easily be remedied – has this much power over me simply because I’m fed up with this shit.  So freaking fed up.  My pockets are coughing up their insides and my work pants look like I’ve worn them for years alone stranded on a deserted island.  I have to roll them up to my calves to hide the fray.

The upside is, we’re busy.  Clients are loving us.  My new therapist is a godsend and because of her, we’re not completely booked two weeks out in advance.

And I have a few marketing ideas to boost membership sales.

I don’t know if it’s stress or what it is, but I swear I have some kind of benevolent force helping me.  I’ve come close to the edge before (never quite like this), but each time I gotten close, something miraculous would happen at the last minute before impact.

It’s just that it happened so many times already that I can’t help take notice, or it may just be wishful thinking, stress, schizophrenia, I don’t know.

I feel horrible about not going to Uncle Snook’s birthday party, I really do.  But they asked me yesterday at like, 8 o’clock at night.

I’m not happy and when I’m not happy, I don’t want to see or be seen by others.  And I really am tired.

I can’t wait until the day comes when I can look back on all this.  Seriously, I think it’s bad for my heart.

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Ancillary Justice

A minute into blowdrying my hair, I always find it the opportune time to check my texts, email, IM’s, take my Flintstones vitamin..etc.  I never seem to quite make it through blowdrying my hair without finding something of importance that takes precedence.

“No no no, I can’t be doing this right now!  WHERE’S MY VITAMINS?!”

It’s 2:30 PM on Thursday.  I have a few things to do today like, go to the bank, the office, my friend wants me to watch her get a tattoo, and I have my geek book club meeting later.  The first I’ve ever been to and, well, the book sucked.

Not only did it suck, but it was thee most boring gibberish I’ve ever laid eyes on.

One girl from the meeting posted, “looking forward to tonight!  Really enjoyed the book!”

I want to fit in with these people.  They are my kind of people.  Geeks that love sci-fi, anime, and superhero’s.  There aren’t many of us around but since we’re a vocal minority, you’d think we’re abundant.

But no.  We’re not abundant.  And since we’re not abundant, we’s got to stick together.  How would it sound, especially since it’s my first meeting, if I barge in there toting a forty and explicitly discriminated against a book they all cherished?

“This shit is garbage, unreadable, nonsensical, complete waste of an Audible credit.”  I slam my beer down.  “You liked this book?  What the hell’s wrong with all of you?  Did we read the same book?”

Let’s hope I can control my initial reaction.  In real life, I will not be drinking beer nor will I storm in there picking fights (at least I hope).  I’ll try to keep my knuckles from hitting the floor.

Ancillary Justice is the name of the book.  It won a bunch of awards and shit.

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Knowing Demon Mel

I just ended a post and started up a new one!  It’s the same night, a few minutes later, and here I am still exhausted.

I just wanted to clarify something and I may need the help of Rational Brain to do it.

Rational Brain – “You rang?”

I totally contradicted myself by writing that you shouldn’t adapt.  More accurately, I contradicted Bruce Lee, “Be like water my friend.”

It’s wrong to adapt to something you’re not passionate about.  Like shitty jobs or shitty friends.  It’s only then do you feel pieces of yourself ebbing away.

Whoa, I feel like I just taken this concept on a much deeper level.  Ayahuasca level.  Hold on, let me explain.

It’s not about you adapting to the environment, it’s about the environment adapting to you.  You become one with it.  You own that shit (I’ve been saying that a lot).

What’s the environment?  Anything that isn’t you.

How do you do this?  By remaining present and in the moment.  By conspiring with your inner Demon – the so-called “bad” guy who wants to do only what *he* wants to do (aka, your true nature, your true intent).

So what are you adapting to exactly?  Nothing.  The environment is adapting to you.  You remain still, like water.  Ahhhh I totally get it.

In essence, you’re not fighting anything.  You’re not fighting the current by being miserable by refusing to adapt to the environment.  Instead, your working with it.

When I don’t adapt while massaging someone, I become miserable.  I clash with the situation.  My true intent (money and freedom) has to be sacrificed for the greater good of the client and I’m a little less miserable by doing so.  How is this a bad thing?

By denying my true nature, my environment will never adapt to me.  It leads to stagnation.

The question is, who is this Demon Mel?  What exactly is my true nature?

There is no you, only desires.

By relinquishing my desires, I’m less miserable.  How is this a bad thing again?

Why are you relinquishing your desires?  Is it out of fear of never obtaining them?

Yes.

So, I’ll never be rid of my desires as long as fear controls them.

I know how I sound right now, I know.  But I can’t shake the Law of Attraction and how ayahuasca told me I’ll never obtain anything out of fear.

Everything coincides.

I have to accept that I do desire money and freedom and by accepting my desires, I accept my inner demon.  The one capable of transmuting my surrounding environment.

I have to remain still, like water, and present, unchanging.  I have to work with what is there.  No conflict, no turbulence, just pure intent.

Okay, well, I polished that thought up nicely enough.  I just wonder if I’ll ever implement it?  Because whenever I let Demon Mel sit and stew, I befall to hatred.

“I really hate this.”  Is my prevailing thought.

Rational Brain – “That’s just weakness.  It’s doubt.  And it happens when your actions don’t match up with your intentions.”

I think I’ll end this post the way it is.  I’ll just keep going around in circles if I don’t.

Rational Brain – “And I think you’ve written about this before.”

Hence, it goes around in circles.

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Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help

Itadakimasu!!

Itadakimasu!

Itadakimasu!

I’ve been watching anime incessantly for months now and learned a small arsenal of words during my loyal viewing.  Hello, goodbye, good morning, thank you, I’m sorry, stupid, see you later, god help us, don’t you know, no I don’t, and of course, itadakimasu!

Japanese people say itadakimasu (you don’t pronounce the u at the end) at every meal before they eat.  So like any fledging young adult, I started saying it – loudly I might add.  Before every meal, after every meal, even when there aren’t any meals.

Itadakimasu!

Finally I went on Google to see what it actually means and found this:

itadakimasu:
A word used by the japanese usually said before meals or by people who watch anime way too much.

Thank you Urban Dictionary for clearing that up.

I woke up early today to give a massage (which I didn’t actually do because I pawned it off on an employee [who da boss?  Ain’t Tony Danza, it me!]) and wanted to take a shower to wash all the laziness and non-activity out of my hair.

Me – “Are you all done with the shower?”

I politely asked my brother.

Brother (in a high-pitched piercing cry) – “Shut up!  Shut up!”

Me – “So you’re all done in there?”

Brother – “You’re an asshole.  An asshole!”

Me – “Okay, I’m going in then.”

Brother – “That’s MY bathroom.”

Last night when I was making myself some hamburgers to eat….

Brother – “Those are MY hamburgers.”

I used up the rest of the mayonnaise.

Brother – “That was MY mayonnaise.”

I can’t compete with his humor.

Brother – “That’s my old bedroom!  I want it back!”

**************

I was PMS’ing when I wrote about my dear friend Kristi.  There’s no possible way I can give her an ultimatum.

She’s a good person and I care about her.

But……

I know sooner or later she’s going to ditch me again.  I know it.  For something stupid too.

**************************

Baka!

Baka means stupid in Japanese.  I scream it whenever possible.

I’m going to Japan in April and need to start utilizing their language you see.  Itadakimasu and Baka help me get the juices flowing.

*******************

I have to leave soon to massage one of my weekly clients.  A man who is, well, unlike me.

I’m a goofy-ass basterd.  I take nothing seriously.  I’m callous and aloof to others feelings when I’m at my best and at my worst, I analyze and judge.  Don’t pretend you’re any different, this is how we all are.

One big reason why I hate massaging is because it’s a vaccination against my callousness.  It impedes my ability at taking things lightly and forces me down into the depths of nether worlds that I normally don’t inhabit.  The world of gushy understanding and warmth – bullshit stuff that I want to extract myself from.

“Melanie’s so nice.  She’s so innocent.”

You don’t know me Baka.  Eat your own food and stop leering at mine.  Itadakimasu dattebayo.

You know what I mean?

Fuuuuck.

And if I massage him whilst inhabiting my own world, I’m miserable.  If I don’t return to that gushy place of unicorns and sunflowers, I’ll be more miserable massaging him than if I stayed true to my nature.

So I adapt to make myself less miserable.  And fill my blog with rubbish taken from these nether worlds.  I’m too damn impressionable and I like everything.  That’s my problem.  I’m too damn curious and open.  And adaptable.

A girl from a spiritual retreat I attended said that she collects her menstrual fluid in a cup and uses it for her garden and since I was so gun-ho about adapting and surrendering that I wondered to myself, “is that something I should be doing?  Should we all be doing that?”

Spiritual retreat girl – “It smells though.”

Me thinking – “Maybe it acts as a natural pesticide?”

I’m the opposite of stubborn because most of the time I plain don’t give a shit.  I’m too busy being accepting and nonjudgmental thanks to these past 10 years of being a wellness provider and being forced into the world of organic wholesomeness.

But it’s not real.  It’s not me.  It’s not my natural inclination to think about collecting menses (did I just say menses?) to garnish a garden with.  No, it’s my natural inclination to shout, “it’ll help with the blood oranges!”

It’s funny how mostly everyone wants to be a good “saintly” person while here I am running for the hills with my pitchfork and pointy tale.  Chasing after money and freedom.

I can remain open, but stubborn when it comes to acquiescing my bodily fluids all over a vegetable garden.  There’s got to be a line somewhere.

And it’s not even like I put on a fake smile for anyone – I basically surrender myself over and over again each time I give a massage.  I surrender and it keeps me genuine.

But lately, since I’m massaging one or two clients a day, my inner demon is clawing her way out.  It seems that the less I massage, the more I hate it.

That’s why massage acts as a vaccine with me.  But the vaccine must be administered everyday in heavy doses in order for it to maintain its effect.  Otherwise you get me, Demon Mel.  The passive, selfish, narcissist who loathes whiny bitches.  Suck it up Baka.

But Demon Mel still loves her parents and that alone makes me gush rainbows out my eyeballs.  It’s just that…..the problem is…..

Boundaries!  I meld with people way too easily.  I lose myself every time I’m faced with the decision to either understand a person, or go my separate way.

I have to learn the art of understanding while remaining separate and intact.  A bystander, a witness.  I feel little pieces of myself chip off the more I’m surrounded by people I want to know better, or, who want to know me better.

And I’m left feeling like I can’t keep up.  I have to keep sloughing away pieces until I’m forced to return to my domicile to recharge which happens to be all of the time since becoming an LMT.

So yeah, let us embrace our inner demon.  He’s not such a bad guy.  You’ll be rewarded with copious amounts of indestructible energy if you embrace your truest nature.

As for Kristi, she gets under my skin because of my trouble to remain separate from her.  It’s like the time I had that lucid nightmare dream and even though I knew it was a dream, I couldn’t separate myself from it.  I couldn’t remain conscious and in control.

My inner demon, no matter how obstinate and independent she may be, is my ticket to remain in control of my thoughts and emotions.  Sure I may be miserable, but I don’t fear death when I’m miserable.  There’s courage found in staying with the pain and refusing to adapt.

Be stubborn when it comes to keeping yourself unaffected by others.  Surrender yourself to your true nature and not one concocted out of avoidance.  Don’t feel self-conscious, ashamed or embarrassed because according to my high school nightmare dream, you must “own that shit”.

Own

That

Shit

And by doing all this, I can keep caring about Kristi.  I can keep her as a friend just the way she is until she’s forced into changing herself (or stop talking to me) simply because she can’t control me.

And I’ll be less inclined to continue this crusade of massaging people.  I’ll be more adamant to journey forward and take the appropriate action to better my situation.

I’m so freaking tired right now.  I have the next two days off so I gave myself the blessing to write tonight even though it causes me insomnia.

 

 

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The Good the Bad and the Ugly of The Power of Now

other side of fear

 

As you may know, my business is going through a money crisis these last few weeks of July.  I’m not a happy camper.

I’ve been trying to listen to The Power of Now but Eckhart Tolle  lulls me to sleep each time.

I fell asleep listening to him at 10 PM last night (wicked early) and woke up today at 10 AM, listened to him again, fell asleep again, and woke up at 1 PM.

I’ve gotten a shit ton of sleep.

It’s 2:39 PM on Monday, my day off, and I’m waiting for my mother’s eggplant parmesan to be ready.

How depressing.

I don’t care what Eckhart says, when you’re broke and worried, you can’t go out, you don’t want to have fun.  And all the small stuff that never bothered you before, starts eating away at you.

EVERYTHING annoys you.

Okay ok now wait a sec, I’m blowing things out of proportion for the sake of emphasis.  In reality, I’m enjoying all this sleep and really looking forward to the eggplant parmesan.

And I’m loving my day off from clients.

It’s just that……hold on, the eggplant parm is ready.

YUM!

It’s just that, when I was in Thailand standing on the roof top of that really expensive hotel and looking at my bank account thinking “holy shit I’m rich!”

I was happy.  The happiest I’ve been in a really long time.  All my burdens lifted and it felt real, not delusional.

Mmmm….garlic bread.

One broken armed therapist, higher rent, and a few big investments later, here I am, starting all over from scratch.

I hired two new therapists.  We’ve been getting slammed lately.  So not only do I need $5,000 extra this month, but that’s not counting paying these two new therapists.

I had no choice.  I won’t go into the boring details but it has to do with Groupon lowing the price of our deals without my consent.  They sell couples massages for $89, but lowered the price of our single massages.  So we are hammered with clients this month.

I had to switch to only selling couples massages with them which requires more therapists.  And okay, I went into the boring details.

I hired independent contractors.  They only get paid when they have clients.  Doing that will save me a ton of money by not having to pay their taxes or downtime.

My broken armed therapist taken her first client in four months yesterday.  She’s going to take one client a day until she’s all better.

I finished furnishing the room upstairs, I just need to hang up a mirror and screw in a light bulb and boom, done.  My friend Jill gave me her old massage table.

August 1st I’ll send out an email promoting the membership and our two new menu options, shirodhara treatments and psychic readings.  It turns out that my esthetician is a card reader and she wants to offer readings to people.

Should I get more eggplant?  I kinda want to nap.  I have until 6:30 to lay around until my friends want Mel time.

And come August, I’m going to promote my membership with the Record Journal again.  They’re the guys who made me feel rich last January when I was standing on top of that expensive hotel in Thailand.  They sold a f*ck load of memberships.

It’s always darkest before the dawn they say.

But good lord the helplessness I felt!

Here’s why:

1) I’m getting fat

2) My room is a mess and I have papers everywhere that need to be filed

3) My car is also a mess

4) My debt has never been greater

5) I have more clients than I do therapists and no money to pay them

6) I don’t have enough members to break even each month

7) Groupon lowered the price of our single massages

8) My broken armed therapist does not pull in any money and is costing me hundreds of dollars

9) I’m still massaging people

10) My debt is so great that I don’t have much of a safety net to fall back on when times get tough (such as now)

Numbers 5-9 are being remedied as we speak, 1-3 are easy to fix, 9-10 will be fixed after 5-8 are completed.

When you’re this hard up, depressed and hopeless, it’s easier to bury your head, you know?  You just don’t want to move.

I still don’t want to move.  God why am I so tired?

Poor Kristi, the girl I want to give the ultimatum to, she gets so damn bored and lonesome that she always tries to get together with people but like I said, if you met her, she’d annoy you too.

brushes

Anyway, originally I wanted to write about The Power of Now, but things taken a different turn.  I’m going to write about it as quickly as possible so I can squeeze in a solid nap.

The ugly side of The Power of Now is that you’ll be more accepting of annoying friends.

“I can’t judge them on their past behavior because it’s all in the past.  No one know’s how they’ll act today.”

Basically, you’ll be more susceptible to live with how things are.

The bad side is that it’s possible for you to become delusional by denying your past (escaping it), or fall victim to abusers by thinking that your situation will change if you ignore your past and future.  Everything is “OK” right now.

My happiness on that roof top in Thailand was incalculable.  But Eckhart says that that kind of happiness isn’t real because it has to do with material possessions.  It’s not lasting.

But it wasn’t money that made me happy, it was freedom.

Damn, I’m going up for more eggplant….hold on.

Mmmm so good.

I need to learn how to photosynthesize.  I hear a guy in India does it.

But anyway, unlike Eckhart Tolle, I believe the present moment is a culmination of the choices we made in the past.  By understanding our past, we understand how and why we arrived at this present moment in time.

If you don’t appreciate the effort you made in the past, you’ll never appreciate the present moment.  You’ll not appreciate yourself.  I was able to experience happiness on that roof top simply because I knew how I got there.

Kristi doesn’t appreciate herself because she doesn’t feel her efforts being reciprocated.  How can she appreciate her efforts when she gets nothing back?  How can she appreciate herself at this present moment when she basis her entire worth on how other people respond to her?

I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.  But if you’re not able to let go, the cycle will continue to repeat and I think that’s what Eckhart was getting at.  To let go of expectations and disappointment in order to free yourself.

For me, it’s the effort that matters.  If one thing’s not working, try something else.  And whatever you do, don’t take anything serious.

These last two weeks in July are critical, but not serious.

I guess you’d have to be me in order to understand what I mean.

It’s like saying you can’t be beaten.  You can’t be beaten because your identity isn’t attached to these things.  If your identity is attached, only then it’s serious.  It’s serious because your ego is threatened with annihilation.

In Kristi’s case, her ego is threatened every time she’s bored and lonesome.

Everyone is different and carry their own triggers.  Mine happens to be when I feel my freedom is threatened or when I’m being misjudged.

Oh man I should shower.  I don’t feel like doing shit.  It’s like 90 degree’s outside.

And Kristi is one of those people who tries to be funny.  I swear that girl nails down every one of my pet peeves.

By living in the present moment, you’re able to feel the crowd and read the environment – I’ve been doing this since I turned 18 and decided to be as authentic/honest as possible and realized it involves being in the present moment.

The present moment has nothing to do with “you.”  That’s the beauty of it.  And thereby you’ll never take it seriously.

My parents just left for the casino.  Complete peace.  Absolutely no noise.

 

Brianna is texting me to go to Japan with her in April to go hiking around Kyoto.  I promised my friend Jay I’d visit him in Alaska next fourth of July.

If I reach 200 members, all this is possible.  Especially since my broken armed therapist will be taking clients again.

I was going to organize my papers today….I was going to go hiking today……I, shit, I did nothing today except eat eggplant.

I’m laying here, I don’t want to tell you what time it is, but I’ve been laying here all day in bed sweating in my pajama’s that I’ve been wearing for how long now?  20 hours?

I should shower dammit.  Hold on.

*******************

It’s now the next day.

Since Groupon lowered the price of my massages, they’re sending me an extra $1,200!  They lowered the price, but are still paying me the same amount.

You have no idea what this means to me.  It means I’m saved.  I’m saved from having to dip into my personal line of credit money.

If I made it through this month without getting further into debt, my business is indestructible.  But how weird how it happened!  Groupon NEVER did this before and not only that, but they’re known for only giving 60% commission – now it went up to 80%?  And I get the money tomorrow?

WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

I’m looking into salt scrubs and body wraps for either my broken armed therapist or esthetician to do.  I can introduce them to clients by September.

My goal is to own a spa that is nearly impossible to refuse a membership to.  Not only would it be impossible to refuse a membership to, but have no reasons to cancel it.

I organized and filed all my papers and made a “To Do” notebook.  I love finding old “To Do” lists crumpled up in my desk drawer because it makes me reminisce on how I got through those “tough” times of having stuff to do.  It makes me feel like I accomplished something.

So I’m keeping a To Do notebook where I can keep them all in one place and feel perpetually accomplished.

I feel renewed happiness.

Okay, I’m going to take a shower, eat, and get some shit done on my list.

 

 

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Filed under journal, philosophy, Self help

Countdown

It all comes down to these last 16 days of July.  The fate of my life rests upon these last two weeks.  And if I fail, it’s not like I can cry back home to mommy and daddy because guess what?  I’m already there.  I’m already at ground zero.

I have $10,000 in the bank but come tomorrow, I’ll have $5,000.  Maybe less than $5,000.

I need to make $157 a day for the next 16 days in order for my business to survive without dipping into my personal line of credit.  If I can make it to August without going into debt, I’ll be able to survive anything.

I had another bad dream when I woke up today.  I was wrongfully accused of something and thrown in prison.  It’s a variation of my humiliating high school dream in the way of people judging me and sentencing me away.  Only this time around I actually had friends in prison and was popular.

But I wanted to get out of there.  It was still a shitty dream and I woke up tired and miserable.

Maybe it’s telling me to enjoy the journey?  Enjoy this prison that I put myself in?

After July, these dreams will disappear.  I know it.

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What the hell do I call this?

I changed my mind on what boat to buy when I become rich and famous. I want this one instead:

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Click the pic to see inside!

I feel that a floating city is more my style.

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A woman applied to my business.  I Googled her like I do with all my candidates and found that she runs her own massage business, has years of experience, she’s physically fit, attractive, not too young, not too old.  She basically embodies the ideal, successful massage therapist.

THEN WHY THE HELL IS SHE APPLYING HERE?

I automatically assume she’s up to no good.  I’m guessing that she’s out to get me like Sara E, the woman who left a nasty review about us on Yelp.

Anti Massage Envy activists should not be underestimated.

That’s the only logical reason I came up with.  If that’s not it than I honestly don’t get it.

I might be interviewing her tomorrow.  We’re corresponding through email and in my last email, I gave her 100% full disclosure of how much $$ I can pay her.  So there’s no misunderstanding when we meet.

******************

It’s Monday, my day off.  I stayed up late last night finishing up a video game, Dragon Age Origins.

******************

I need to drive to Wethersfield to pick up a massage table that an old friend doesn’t want anymore and finish furnishing the room upstairs.  And do payroll.

I HATE doing payroll.  Doing payroll is like homework, only you’re not gaining anything but losing thousands of dollars.  And I have trouble sitting still long enough to do it.

********************

I had a bad dream when I woke up today.  I dreamt that I was in high school again, wearing foot pajama’s that zipped up in the front and well, I shit inside them.

There was a laundry room in the school so I ran to it, undressed, and threw my dirty PJ’s in the wash hoping that nobody would see.  But somebody did see.

There was a group of foreign kids standing there to witness it.  They all started laughing.  I ignored them and went about my business (I don’t know where I found an extra change of clothes but I did.)

I started feeling paranoid that everyone would find out.  It seemed as though nobody wanted to talk to me and I assumed it was because they knew about me shitting my pants.

But then I saw the first boy I ever kissed (in real life).  He ran up to me, hugged me, and told me he missed me.  He became my one and only friend, oblivious to me shitting my pants earlier.

Until that group of foreign kids found my shitty underwear and were about to broadcast them to the entire student population.  My one and only friend was about to find out my most humiliating secret.

I made my way to where the foreigns kids were stationed, picked up a chair and threatened to smack them with it if they didn’t stop.  They were all laughing in delight.

I held up one leg of the chair and lined it up with the eye of one of the foreign kids and said, “I swear I’ll skull fuck your eye socket with this chair if you say one word to anybody.”

They found this hilarious, and I found it funny too after having said it.

I never hit any of them with the chair – I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  And after threatening to skull fuck them with the leg of a chair, we all loosened up.  I loosened up enough to break down.

Me – “Do you have any idea what it feels like?  To be so completely alone?”

Them – “We’re not from here so yes we do.”

Me – “But at least you all have each other.”

That’s when I started crying my eyes out.  The foreigners comforted me and no longer cared about my shitty underpants.

My blog is like my shitty underpants.  My story is told here to everyone and I can’t escape the prying eyes and humiliation that comes with it.

I made a rule not to publish anything while I’m drunk.  I have countless drafts because of this.  I can at least stave off some humiliation that way.

Seriously though, I think the dream symbolizes my fear of rumors, of being judged, ostracized, having close friends turn on me.  In all my experience, there’s no greater hurt.

The crazy thing is, in real life, this fear remains hidden from me.  I never think about.

But when “S” gave me advice straight from my blog, I didn’t realize it at the time but, it all has to do with this hidden fear of humiliation and of being ostracized.  I unconsciously thought that if the haters were still reading my blog and reiterating it, that must mean they’re also spreading rumors about me.  Reading my blog for the purpose of finding new things to judge me on – so they can spread it to others.

That’s what made me upset.  At the time I didn’t know why I was upset, but I get it now.

Crazy unconscious associations.

I have to learn not to care what people think of me.  Even when it comes to friends, I can’t care what they think – I don’t for the most part but it’s when they start hating me that gets to me.

I have to stop caring.  But is it wrong to stop?  Is it a form of pigheadedness?  The stubbornness that leads to someones downfall in life?

Or maybe I’m making more irrational associations?

“You won’t be punished for your anger.  You will be punished by your anger.” – Buddha

“I won’t be punished for caring.  I will be punished by caring.” – Melanie

No, I like the Buddha’s saying better.

But I do have to work on this issue.  If only to stop having these damn high school nightmares.

You know what just came to me?  Being proud of shitting my pants!  Not caring that I shit my pants!

Hold on now, there’s wisdom in this.  There’s strength.

By not caring if I shit my pants, I wouldn’t care who knew about it.  Not only would I not care, but I wouldn’t want to skull fuck someones eye socket with a chair leg.  I wouldn’t be angry, I wouldn’t resort to violence….

I wouldn’t feel ashamed and if I’m ostracized or judged, I wouldn’t blame myself.  I wouldn’t blame anybody and simply allow others the freedom to think whatever they want to think.

It all comes down to me.  My fear of loneliness, being misunderstood, betrayed.  All because of something that couldn’t be helped.  Something I shouldn’t feel ashamed of.

I associate caring with being hurt.  I think we all do.  We’re only hurt by those we care about.  But the thing is, when you break down the reason why you’re hurt, it all comes down to a selfish hidden fear.  So obliquely hidden that it only shows itself in dreams (in my case, high school dreams of humiliation).

According to the stinking Law of Fives (or law of attraction), if you’re not ashamed of yourself, you will not be shamed.

In my dream, when I was able to laugh at myself after I confronted those foreign guys, I let go of shame.  In a way, I surrendered to it.

I couldn’t beat them and in the end, I only wanted them to understand.

Rational Brain – “What if they didn’t understand?  What if they hung your shitty underwear up on the flag pole?”

As long as I’m not ashamed of myself, I wouldn’t care what they did.  I wouldn’t even be angry at them.  I’d own that shit, you hear me?

I know this sounds impossible, but you just got to trust me.  I’m onto something big here.

I can’t be ashamed of my blog, but I’m not going to broadcast it either.

I get angry in other ways too that need to be addressed.

I get angry when people over-react to things.  When they hate a person for doing something trivial.  I get VERY angry and impatient.  I also get impatient when people talk non-stop.

I have a friend who does both of these things and then some.

She’s also up my ass constantly.

A long time ago I wrote about a girl who defriended me because I chose to hang out with Dave over her.  Because he invited me to be his guest at a wedding on the same day she wanted to do something.  Friendship over.

I didn’t much care because I felt no shame in what I did.  I was more concerned about her and how depressed she must have been to have come up with that decision.

When I got back from Ecuador, she apologized to me and wanted to make amends and I said, “sure, why not?”

I made sure to set boundaries – that I wouldn’t be there at her beckon call, and things have been fine since then.

But now she’s starting to expect things from me.  Not only that, but my patience is wearing thin with her constant nagging and drama.  We’re too different and not compatible at all.

I hate ultimatums.

“We can’t be friends unless you change.”

Real friends accept you, right?

How can I be okay with wanting to skull fuck my own eye socket with a chair leg whenever we hang out?  How is that okay?

I associated “real” friends with irrational expectations. Unconditional acceptance of me, always being there, looking out for me.  We grow up watching movies, tv shows, and reading books that tell of these expectations.  This is what it means to be a “real” friend, right?

I abide by those irrational expectations and judge any who don’t.  They’re scum, they’re selfish is what I say.

But here I am wanting to give her an ultimatum – the opposite of a “true” friend.

If you’re around this woman trust me, she’d get on your nerves too.

She texted me the other day asking me if I’ll miss her while she’s away.

Annoying.  Annoying annoying!

I ask people not to tag me on Facebook because she’ll know about it.  I’m weary of posting pics.

I’m pretty sure the end is near.  She’s going to stop talking to me again.  If I ever run into her, she’d ignore me.

But since I’m not ashamed, I’ll not feel bad.  And if she wants to be friends again, I’d say, “sure, why not?”

I’m too passive and noncommittal to ever put my foot down.

“No!  Go away!”

I wonder what a person would have to do to get me to that point?

I hate ultimatums but sometimes they’re the right thing to do.  It’s something a “true” friend would do.  It’s called being honest.

I keep six honest…

I keep six honest serving-men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who.
I send them over land and sea,
I send them east and west;
But after they have worked for me,
I give them all a rest.

I let them rest from nine till five,
For I am busy then,
As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,
For they are hungry men.
But different folk have different views;
I know a person small-
She keeps ten million serving-men,
Who get no rest at all!

She sends’em abroad on her own affairs,
From the second she opens her eyes-
One million Hows, two million Wheres,
And seven million Whys!

-Rudyard Kipling

I hate titling posts.  What the hell do I call this one?

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Filed under journal, rant, Self help, Writing

The Prattler Rambler

I have an immense capability to fantasize.  My fantasies are outlandish, absurd, but they pass the time while giving massages.

I’m fantasizing about a new book idea.  I’m up to chapter 3 in my head.  The story is getting so intoxicatingly good that I’m dreaming more about becoming the next JK Rowling than plotting my actual book.

My book idea is so good that I went on ahead and picked myself a boat to buy once I’m rich and famous.

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Click the pic so you can see inside it!

I have to give two massages today.  It’s very rare not having a day when someone doesn’t request me.

I’m about a year away from not massaging anymore and this month will be the hardest since I’ve opened.

I need to pay $1000 in quarterly taxes and an extra $4000 to my employee’s.  So, that makes $5000 I need to pull out of my ass.  The question is, do I have enough of ass money?

I’m hurting.  I’m hurting and I’m once again missing the summer – my favorite season.  Even on days when I do go out, I’m exhausted from massage and tired from stress.  Not to mention my ass hurts by me keeping money in it.

At the start of next month, I’ll be lucky if I have $2000 in the bank.  $2000!!!  Do you have any idea how low that amount is?  When I spend at least $12,000 a month just to run the joint?

Stupid July…..

Enough on that.  No more talk about that.  Let us accept and surrender.

Accept and surrender….

BULLSHIT!

Eckhart Tolle makes some good points, and he’s definitely connected to that same mass consciousness that I experienced (under ayahuasca), but man.  I’m telling you, it’s impossible to separate yourself from your ego unless you’re dead.

Which brings me to my book……

My book will be awesome!  Let me look at my boat again….ahhh yes.  There it is.  There’s my boat.

*Sigh*

I’m creating a superhero by incorporating both science and spirituality to forge a protagonist that embodies true free will.

I can write an entire book about how “free” our will is and oh look at that, I am!

We think we’re free, but no.  Not as long as taxes exist anyway.

Thoreau couldn’t even escape taxes – he depended on his buddy there, what’s his name?  Emerson.  He lived on Emerson’s poetically picturesque property to focus on his writing about how minimalistic and courageous he lives.  Pfff….good for him to have a rich friend.

That’s the sort of place I need to write my book at.  And work on my grammar at.

***************

I’m getting fat.

I never write about my weight, I never even think about my weight, but after getting back from Thailand, I’ve been stuffing my face.

When I travel, I eat in bulk.  I have to taste and sample everything.  Basically, it throws off my metabolism.

When I got back home this time around, I kept stuffing my pie hole.  Hot dogs, pizza, pasta – loads and loads of pasta.

My pants that once hung from me are now squeezing my thighs like spandex.

I experienced weight gain 10 years ago when I was 25.  It taken me 3 days a week of exercise and limited sugar intake to get rid of it all in about a year, maybe two years (I stopped keeping track).

However, with my current schedule, I don’t have time to exercise the same way I did when I was 25.  I don’t have those 3 lofty days off.

Basically, I can’t write my book or exercise until I retire from massage.

I tried for weeks to schedule Tuesday’s off, but I’m continually getting booked despite my efforts.

***********

Enough garbage talk for one night.  Damn I can prattle.

The prattler rambler, when will you stop?

This shit don’t matter,

Your writings a flop.

Tip your hat you’ve been beaten

You’re all out of reason

The prattler rambler

Please just stop

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Cranky Mel

I was super cranky last night.  The worst kind of cranky.  The kind of cranky where you don’t realize you’re being cranky until you wake up the next day and read your rant blog post from the night before.

“What the hell Mel?”

It was fourth of July weekend and I drank innumerable beers.  I had an incredibly fun time until the last leg of it when I didn’t realize how tired I was.

After “S” told me her advice (verbatim from my blog), the wool came down and I was in it.  Submerged in the past.  That was the trigger.

My crankiness bloomed instantaneous and for the rest of the night (the last one or two hours that remained), I was sad and paranoid.  How quick it turned!

I’m almost positive that crankiness, or craziness rather, can start at the on-set of dishonesty.  When I withhold from others and not go with my otherwise open flow response.

How odd it is to actually see it happen.  To see exactly what happened and why.

I withheld my initial honest reaction, that’s all I did.  And by doing that, I unintentionally manipulated the situation to keep me free and in the clear.

Manipulation comes at a high price – your sanity.  It costs the same price as your happiness.  And you can’t see it happening until the moment has passed and you’re someone new.

I love fairytales, I love the black and white, good vs evil – so by breaking down something as simple as this, I can see the black and white.  I can see my own evil doings and how they affect me for the worse.

Manipulation…..knowing right from wrong….

The sun, lack of sleep, the 30 beers in my belly, all weakened my immunity to crankiness.  I couldn’t see that I was manipulating and self-preserving.

I’m now laying in bed with tired eyes.  It’s noon on Monday.

I don’t silence my phone anymore before bedtime just in case my employee’s need me in the morning, they can wake me.

My phone started going off early.  One text every half hour.  I’d wake up, see that’s it’s not from my employee, and go back to sleep.  Literally, this happened at least 6 times.

I have to hire another employee, finish furnishing the room upstairs, add shirodhara to website and online store….

But for right now I’m going to eat lunch and nap.  Yes.

I’m still cranky dammit.

 

 

 

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