Category Archives: journal

Laying in bed on a Tuesday

I originally wanted to tie up loose ends from my last post such as the “letting go” part of it.  If my esthetician “let go” of the taxi cab she was in, she wouldn’t be around today to tell her tale.

I would’ve went on a long wild tangent on how you have to make a choice and to trust God within you.  To “let go” of all that is unnecessary, to trust, to choose, and to take action knowing that you will NOT fail.

There’s a very fine line between letting go in the physical, intellectual sense of the meaning in comparison to the other way of letting go.  It’s such a fine line that I have trouble describing it which only makes me sound like I’m full of shit.

How do I describe it?  If she let go of the cab even after her instincts told her not to, it’d be more like giving up.  Giving up is not the same as letting go although for most of us it’s the same thing.

People choose to fail because they still have power as long as they can choose.  They choose failure because they have no trust in themselves or the process found in courage.

Choosing failure is the ego’s last resort to exert control over a situation that takes courage to endure.

The “letting go” I’m talking about, the one my esthetician described to me is just the opposite of giving up.  She let go of fear and made a choice.

But anyway, it’s too heady even for my head.

So instead of going into one of my transfixed wild tangents, I want to write about my business.

A few posts ago, I was having a really good week.  An astounding month actually.  I claimed that my take-home pay was $1000 a week.  Well, it’s a few weeks later and no, I was wrong.

I keep ping-ponging back and forth between success and fear (failure).  At the beginning of the month when I charge all my members, I feel relieved and successful.  But then as the end of the month approaches, when that money drastically dwindles, my stomach turns upside-down.

“What can I do.  What can I do to help my finances?”

All my choices thus far have been thought-out and calculated.

Every action, every investment I made – everything figured out in my monthly budget.  Everything except one thing.

My therapist broke her arm and instead of taking in money (clients), she sits there answering phones all day.  Roughly 35 hours a week, $350 a week, $1400 a month.  Figure in taxes, that’s about $2,000 a month I’m investing in with no added return.

I was planning on hiring a receptionist eventually when I could safely afford it, but it happened too soon.  And as a way of compensating for my new expense, I invested in facials and rented the rooms upstairs for more space to accommodate those facials.

The money I spent as the result of her broken limb is immense.  Not only do I pay $2000 a month, but all my new improvements are enough to bankrupt me.

So what do I do?  I have to get her taking clients again as soon as possible.  The only plan I thought of to combat this was ashiatsu – walking on clients backs.  And with the two new rooms, I’ll be able to fit in the ashiatsu bars.

I love this employee and she loves me.  My esthetician even pointed it out that she loves me.  So this employee is going nowhere but here.  I care about her too much.

If I can take back my $2000 a month, I’ll definitely be making $1000 a week after all my bills (personal and business) are paid.

The next ashiatsu class is July 24th.  Can I hold out until then?  During the dead of summer when no clients book?

On the ride home yesterday, I discussed more menu options with my esthetician.  We decided to add eyebrow threading and waxing to the menu – both being of little expense on my part but have big payouts.

Today I have to figure out her commission for doing these new services, and finish my brochures.

I strive for peace of mind – I’ve been striving since I opened up this place.  But it never ends.  There’s always something.

I work but I don’t have anything to show for it.  I work and get nothing but worry.

My estheticians story from yesterday unknowingly showed me the difference between letting go and giving up, although I can’t put it into words.  I feel it emotionally.

Giving up causes hate and anger towards her offenders, but letting go releases all that.  In a way, it’s acceptance.  It’s taking responsibility.  It’s accepting death in lieu of your fears winning over you.

My esthetician – “I kept telling them to kill me.  They threatened me with being tortured in prison and I say ‘kill me now then.  Kill me now.  I’m not leaving this cab.’

She accepted death and let go while still not giving up.

I know you don’t understand, I know.  But I can’t explain it any better than that.

She’s an amazing woman, my esthetician.

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Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help

My Day

I’m sitting at a Starbucks in downtown Manhattan on official business.

At least, that’s what I want to believe.  I want to believe that I’m a successful business entrepreneur who ended up in a downtown Manhattan Starbucks on official business.  With her Apple iPhone and Macbook at hand, dressed like a smart hipster with a cool aloofness that draws people in.

No, instead I’m cleaning my computer screen with the sleeve of my shirt and itching my runny nose with also, the sleeve of my shirt.  I’m wearing second-hand pants and my shoes are made out of some kind of plastic or something similar to plastic.  I’m not sure what.

What the hell are my shoes made of?  Now I’m searching the inside of my shoe.  Doesn’t say.

I’m supposed to be working on brochures for my business but I’m too tired for that shit.

Why am I here?

I’m getting my esthetician trained in micro-current facials.  This is the closest school I found that does it.  I offered to go with her so she wouldn’t be alone in NY and she said ‘yes please’ and so here I am.

I hate that I’m nice.

I’m roughly 1 hour and 45 minutes away from home but the traffic tacks on another hour or two.  An hour or two of teeth grinding traffic.  I have a mouth full of teeth sand.

I got lost and had to go over the GW bridge twice which ended up costing me $16.  Going over the GW twice is becoming a tradition.  One of Melanie’s many humiliating traditions.  I dropped my esthetician off at the school just shy an hour late.

I parked at a garage not knowing the full extent of how much they charge.  Across the street from where I’m sitting, I see a place that charges exactly $10.14 for up to 30 minutes.


After parking I came here, to Starbucks.  There’s one on every block.

I really want to pick up my car….

So far this trip is costing me a fortune.  I want to feel like a successful entrepreneur doing work at a Starbucks in downtown Manhattan but the truth is, my shoes are plastic (or something similar to plastic), and I’m too cheap to even buy myself a sandwich.  Not cheap, poor.  There’s a difference.

Maybe not poor, but realistic? I get my sandwiches at home for free mothafugas so why pay?

Today is payday for all my employee’s which means today is the opposite of payday for me.

It’s 1:50.  Only four more hours to go.

I dropped my car off at 11:20 at the parking garage and I’m not thrilled about leaving it there.  What was I thinking?  I didn’t think it would cost so much that’s what I was thinking!

I should go back and get it.  Yeah, I have to.  Definitely have to.

Okay I’m back.  My bill totaled $30.  Not horrible, but not great either.  I moved my car to the street which costs absolutely nothing.  And the absurd thing is, there’s ample street parking everywhere!  I didn’t think a garage would cost so much seeing that their competitors offer free parking.


I just met Phil, an old woman who works at the Gershwin theater.  She wants to get me free tickets to see Wicked.  We exchanged numbers and ate ramen together at a small but popular ramen restaurant that had a line out the door.


I’m home now.  I’m fried.  Big crowds seep up my energy like suction cup tentacles.

Oh and my car got hit!  How did I forget about that?  I heard a dull thud while I was driving 5MPH and I thought it was a pedestrian at first and…..oh god this is bad…..I shouldn’t be telling you this…..

I ignored it and sped up!

Okay okay, I know that sounds bad but if you were there you’d understand.  I thought a person fell into my car – not me hitting them, but them hitting me.  When I came to my senses and looked back, I saw a yellow van pulling out into ongoing traffic – it was him that bumped my tail end.  Not a pedestrian.

“That asshole.”

My esthetician told me the most amazing stories on the ride home.  Crazy crazy stories about her visit to Saudi Arabia where she was held at gunpoint, and her friends living in Iran with abusive husbands.

The judges over there don’t allow divorce due to abuse (even if it was an arranged marriage to a man 34 years your senior and who already has wives) and they even tell the victims that it’s their own doing.

Not only that, but rape victims get thrown in jail, whipped, tortured, and one woman that she knew of was sentenced to disembowelment – they took out her intestines because she got gang raped.

Women are not allowed to be in the company of men who are not blood relatives or their husbands.  When seen in public, the woman is arrested, tortured, and thrown in jail.  This is what happened to my esthetician when she shared a cab with her male friend.  That’s when she was held at gunpoint and nearly raped by a gang of men claiming to be authority.


I love America.  Americans don’t know how good they got it.

My esthetician – “I asked God to help me.  I kept thinking about that quote that says, ‘if you were to fall from a cliff, God will be there to catch you and if he’s not there to catch you, he’ll give you wings.’  And I was trusting God will help me and I heard him tell me that whatever happens, don’t leave the cab.  Don’t get out of the cab.  So I held onto the cab and refused to leave it.  They were punching me and kicking me in my side but I didn’t feel it.  They kept pulling and pulling on me to get out.  They couldn’t get me out and so they stopped.  I’ll never forget that day.  9 hours it lasted.”


I’m exhausted.  Crowds man, they kill me.  Life kills me (literally).

You know, if God didn’t exist there wouldn’t be atheists.

Think about it.

Beliefs like that are trippy.  I can understand agnostics, but ANY hardcore belief trips me out.  Atheists have faith that there is no God, while everyone else has faith that there is.  It’s all the same.  Whether you do or you don’t, it’s the same.

That’s why I’m not a fan of faith.  I’m a fan of “knowing” and when I was under ayahuasca, she said that faith is not part of our spiritual evolution but actual “knowing” is.  Faith doesn’t exist in the spirit realm.  It’s just another lie we tell ourselves.  An illusion to help our ego’s control and understand.

Do you have faith that you exist?  No!  You know you exist.  Why?  Because we think.

{Completely off my original topic, but if our thoughts are the only proof of our existence, wouldn’t that mean the closer we get to silencing our thoughts, the closer we get to the source of its power?  The soul?

Now now wait, just hear me out a sec.  If we abolish the “self” and empty our contents, there wouldn’t be anything left separating us from the source.  I was high one night and totally understood this!  It’s our own fear that keeps our thoughts in place.

I tried and tried to empty my mind and meditate while I was high, but it was like a tug of war.  I kept holding on and it dawned on me that it was my own fear.

Ultimately, I believed that I would die if I let go of all thought.  No matter how ridiculous that sounded, I couldn’t deny my reasoning.  I was in fact, terrified of dying.}

Now back to our regular scheduled topic….

I understood this on an emotional level and it was immense (that faith doesn’t exist).  There IS no faith.  Faith is an illusion.  But how do you get to the “knowing” part?  Through suffering and in letting go.  Trust is real.

The words we use in everyday speech take on different meanings – deeper, emotionally felt meanings that can’t be put into words.  Trust and faith are not the same.

Trust is tangible while faith is a dream.  You’re able to let go because of trust – trust in that whatever happens, is meant to be.  And whatever you do, it’s all part of the process.

Trust the process!

Rational Brain – “Okay there Gandhi, let’s wrap things up before you go on one of your wild tangents.”

Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?

The thing that gets to me is, some people don’t think it’s that bad over there in Saudi Arabia, Iran, Africa or wherever.  They say it’s their culture and it’s what they agree to.  It’s all they know and it’s not our place to fight it.

They turn a blind eye to it.  If we label the country as bad, than that means the entire nationality/race must be bad and us pious non-racists don’t adhere to that.

It really irks me that people do that.  They label an entire race or nationality of people based on what country they’re from.  They can’t separate the one from the whole and because of this, we allow bad behavior to continue because if we didn’t, we would hate and discriminate.

For example, if you agree that it’s not bad over in Saudi Arabia or Iran, but your ears perked up in agreement that yes, Africa IS bad – there’s a good chance that you’re a little prejudiced towards black people.  Unless that is, if you’re one in the few who can separate the one from the whole.

Another reason why we refuse to “discriminate” is that we don’t have the power to do anything about it.  We don’t have the power to help anyone.  And because we lack power, instead of admitting to our lack of power, we end up defending ourselves.  We defend ourselves by denying that there’s a problem in the first place.  All because of our ingracious ego’s.

I mean, to me, it’s the obvious reason why we turn our heads when we see others suffering (especially by our own hands).  We end up blaming the victim which is no different than sentencing them to death.  We all lack power and can’t let go of our own needs.

We are globally the same.

My esthetician – “I come to America and I get job, I get shelter, food, I get a big welcome.  But in Iran we get none of that.  We have only our family and our culture.”

This makes me think that the more we depend on our family to care for us, the harder it is to let go of culture and outdated beliefs.  If we were to let go of one, the others will topple like a 4 foot tall jenga.  Our world unravels and we are left with nothing.

It’s like instead of having both feet planted firmly on the truth, we’re stationed up in hammocks not wanting to get our feet wet.  The stronger your “faith” in the hammock, the less likely you are to get wet.


Aaaagh…..I can never up and leave to go live someplace else.  But what if I’m just looking at shadows on the wall?  This is my culture and I can’t see outside it?

Okay, new item on bucket list:  Live somewhere else for at least 6 months.

Rational Brain – “Are you done now?”

Hold on let me think…


Rational Brain – “This is all said by someone who sped up after thinking she hit someone.”

Reflexes Rational Brain!  That was from reflexes!  It would’ve been their fault anyway!

Rational Brain – “Blaming victims are we?”

Oh shut up.  Just shut up.


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It’s A Weird World

One of my long time clients from Massage Envy told me a few months ago that his nephew was going to audition for American Idol.

Me – “That’s great!  I wish him the best of luck.”

I didn’t think anything of it, really.  Thousands of people audition.  It was only a matter of time before I met someone who know’s someone who did.

But then his nephew kept moving up the ranks.  The more he moved up, the more excited and inspired I became.

He’s my client’s nephew, I never met the guy, but still.  Something about it makes me feel wonderful.

He won tonight.  He won American Idol.

I can’t wait to see his uncle.  He’s actually one of the two clients I told about this blog.  Now I don’t even tell my friends about it.

But he won!

In a roundabout way, I feel like my dreams can happen too because of him.

It’s just so bizarre.  A real living dream happened so close to where I can almost touch it.  And when I first heard about it, when he was first auditioning, I didn’t think anything of it.  It was just another bit of news to me, nothing out of the ordinary.

It just goes to show that anything can and will happen.  Even when you least expect it.


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Where My Empathy Comes From

It’s not from being a saint. I’ll be the first to tell you that. No, but it’s because of my Mother.

My Mother – I love her to bits, but she’s crazy. I learned of her craziness when I was young – super young, like four or five years old.

Let me start from the beginning…..

We are helpless as infants.  We take a massive amount of time to mature.  During our maturation, we develop what’s called mirror neurons.

Basically, when we see someone doing an activity, mirror neurons fire off and our body feels as if it’s doing the same activity.

This is why people watch sports, although, I never been into sports – especially not watching them, but that’s besides the point.

Mirror neurons also help you imagine what others are thinking and feeling.

This means that all of us have the ability to empathize.  That is, as long as our ego’s don’t interfere. I have my mother to thank for letting me push my ego aside.

Let me explain what I’m talking about, it’ll be worth the read.

We are the most vulnerable of all species as infants.  We die if we’re not being held.  Even if we have food, water, and shelter – that’s not enough.  We die.

The thing is, when we’re completely dependent on a care-giver or whomever, that person becomes a representation – an extension of ourselves. We idealize them. We don’t see their flaws. This is because we depend on them for being strong – we see what we need them to be in order for our safety and survival.

As we get older, we project this idealism onto teachers, friends, representatives. Instead of seeing a person for who they really are, we only see our needs being met or not being met. When they are not met, we lash out and defend ourselves – especially to those we love and care about. Because they’re an extension of ourselves, a lifeline, a factor in our survivability, they represent ourselves and we can not have a person of little worth representing who we are.

We either deny our representatives of partaking in any wrong-doings, or we exaggerate their flaws and push them off their high horses in an attempt to recover our own lost value. By defining ourselves through the people we don’t accept, we regain our power.

When we don’t accept a person for who they are, drama ensues. Wars break out.

But then there’s my Mother. A care-giver whom I stopped idealizing at an insanely young age and instead, learned to accept her. I saw her for who she was and since she’s my Mother, I grew to love and accept her in a truer sense, and not thru the needs of my ego.

Only when you don’t need someone, that’s when you’ll find real love.

Most people don’t understand this – no matter how hard they try, they’ll always think to need a person foretells real love. It’s hard to undo the beliefs you developed as an infant.

But anyway, how was I able to accept my Mum? Because I understood her. Understanding a person is EVERYTHING when it comes to empathy. I understood her because my mirror neurons wanted to understand. They didn’t just want to understand, they needed to. They needed to understand simply to ease my anxiety of loneliness, of not understanding.

While most kids were enjoying the worship and sanctity of their parents, I evolved in the opposite direction of detached rationality. I was on my own, but calmed by my ability to empathize.

How was I still able to love her? Through her flaws. Through her most vulnerable, sensitive self. She was sensitive because she was frightened. I understood and saw it all. It’s because of my Mother, that I learned compassion.

Empathy is understanding, compassion is the action you choose to make stemming from that empathy. Just because we empathize, doesn’t mean we automatically know what to do with it.

You can either choose compassion, or push your Mother off her high horse – denying any attachment or value to her. As long as she represents you, you’ll keep pushing her away. You push her away in order to define your own worth.

Nowadays, whenever my mirror neurons pick up on a persons frightened ego lashing out, I immediately feel compassion towards them. No matter how horrible that person is, no matter how awful their despicable behavior, I empathize.

The only thing that really gets to me is me being the cause of their despicable behavior – it is I who unleashed the beast. I made them scared. I caused them harm. How can I blame them when it is all my fault?

This is another lesson I learned through my Mother. I learned how to see the best in people.

When I see the best in them, that is my way of enjoying a little of the worship and idealism that I was missing. I get to experience both worlds. One being selfish and wanting to see the best in people (to quell my loneliness), and one being unselfish; acceptance.

As long as I continued seeing the best in my Mother, I was less likely to unleash the beast within. Doing this was just another ploy at my survivability – filling the missing gap from not getting my needs met by a crazy parent.

As long as I saw the best, I again, was able to hold on to the loving safely of stability. The feeling that I’m not alone.

And these days mom Mom is fine. She’s a hell of a lot less crazy than she used to be.

Anyway, in other news, my email campaign brought in about 15 or 17 new members. I need at least 20 more to ensure I don’t fall short every month. My cross-county motorcycle adventure is a far reach at this point. An impossibility really.

Last night I had trouble coping with this. The fact that my life is slipping by. The fact that my business is in jeopardy. I even turned to the ICHING which only confirmed my worry. It said that I’m pushing too hard and with each push, I get stuck further in. I’m burying myself. It also said that I’m getting arrogant with having too high of hopes.

Its advice is to remain still, don’t invest any further, and in time, everything will work out.

In time……

Nobody cares what I do, which to me, is freedom. My parents don’t care, my brother doesn’t care, my friends don’t care – nobody cares what I do and because of that, I’m free. And this is true for most people. It’s our own self interests that shuts us in. My self interest is with money.

I’m not free because I depend on money. Just as it is with people depending on people – they will never be free.

But then again, as long as money exists, we’ll always need it and as long as people exist, we’ll always need them no matter how much we tell ourselves we don’t.

It’s now a few days later. A week actually. And I had an awesome week!

I first started this post with a heavy heart. My projected outcome in the bank next month was only going to be $2000. I need at least $12000 a month to pay for everything so naturally I had a heavy heart. I resorted to valarian root and the iChing.

But now, being a week later, I’m actually looking at buying a tanning bed! It’s not a tanning bed exactly, but a skin rejuvenation bed that uses red LED light therapy. It just so happens to also bronze the skin.

I have my heart set on this tanning bed. It’s about $3000 including taxes and shipping – the same price as my Honda Grom, the motorcycle I want to go cross-country on.

Damn damn damn.

The iChing told me to stop investing for a while. I need to cool it. But if I get this special tanning bed, I’ll get even more members!

According to my outward projection, I’ll have more money in the bank than ever before by August which means that I’m no longer breaking even. If I were to have a take-home pay, to cut myself a paycheck, it’ll be close to $1000 a week. Shit accumulates fast – really fast.

Yes I want this tanning bed, but should I wait until August when I don’t need to dip into my personal line of credit? That’s 3 long months away!

I have a ridiculous marketing idea that will no doubt humiliate me. I won’t tell you what it is yet, but I’ll show you in my next post. Depending on how well it does, I might not need to wait until August for the tanning bed. And if it works REALLY well, I’ll be able to take my cross-country trip.

I need to get my ass up out of bed. I’m back to having only one or two clients a day (thank god). Just imagine what I could accomplish if I wasn’t so lazy!

I have to put together my humiliating marketing stunt and finish at least one of the new massage rooms I added upstairs. If I can get those two things done today, I’ll be happy.

Then tomorrow I’ll try out my marketing stunt. If I get even just one new member from it, I’ll deem it a success. If I get just one new client booked from it, it’ll be a worthy humiliation.

If it doesn’t work, I’ll have to wait until August for my tanning bed and worse than that, I’ll have to wait until next year for my motorcycle adventure.  As of now I am broke and it’s too much of a gamble to leave for a month. It wouldn’t be any fun if I can’t relax.

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Tomorrow is blast off

OMG I love old people.  One of them is sitting across from me.  She’s reading the Cheshire Harald and sipping her lemon Snapple.  Oh and there’s another one!  She’s sitting o’er yonder.  Her little head is wobbling a bit, a common problem for old folk.

I’m sitting at the coffee shop near my business.  I love coffee shops.

Damn I shouldn’t be writing.  My main objective for my being here is to write up a Mother’s Day email that needs to get sent tomorrow to 1900 people.  This email is the God of all emails.  An email that can make me or break me.  It has to be perfect.

I’m just waiting for mail Chimp to process my client list.  It should be done by now.

Yep it’s done and I tried writing the email but I keep getting swept up in love.  This coffee shop has so many freaking old people here that it’s making it impossible for me to concentrate.

Rational Brain – “That’s nice Melanie, blame the old people who are silently enjoying their coffee for all of your problems.”

I can’t help it.  I’m in one of those moods.  The “I love everyone and the world is glorious” kind of mood.  It’s not exactly a problem but it is distracting.

I feel high even though I swear that I’m not.  But I am menstruating, so that’s probably the culprit.

A few minutes later…..

I’m exhausted.  My love mood is going away.  I’m getting pissed at myself for not writing the email.  I’m glad I can at least secretly contain my mood swings inside this blog where nobody can see.

Many hours later….

I’m home, everything done.  The email is scheduled to go out tomorrow at 8AM.

I resigned myself with being okay if I don’t sell any memberships with tomorrows email.  I can still squeak by with the one’s I got and I have plenty of other marketing schemes that are sure to work.

If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.  One thing I know for sure is that I’ll never give up on my business.  Not ever.  It’s the one key to my ultimate goal (I’ll save that for a different post).

Since I cut Laurie’s hours down to Fridays, the number of members who canceled this month?  Zero.

40 more members and I’ll be a success.  40 more and I’m truly home-free.

Please oh god lord Jesus…..

I spent roughly $20,000 these past two months all leading up to this one massive email that gets sent out tomorrow.  $20,000!  I literally put everything I have into this.  Everything and then some.

But it’s no big deal if nobody signs up.  No big deal at all.  Pffff, that’s silly, why would it be a big deal?  All my improvements will merely aid in retaining members while having new members trickle in at a greater speed than loss.  It’s a win win, really.  Investment well spent.

So calm your shit Mel.

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My motorcycle dream

I had my first motorcycle dream last night.  I dreamt I was riding a blue Honda Grom.


I’m surprised it was blue since that’s the least likeliest color I’d pick in real life.  But after having the dream, I sorta like the blue now.

I was confident and maneuvered the bike like a pro.  It was bliss.  It was the freedom I’ve longed for, only, I was late for work.  Not only was I late, but lost too.

I had to work at a banquet facility to do chair massage.  The location was beautiful, very woodsy, green and lush.  A handsome man saw me looking at a map and offered some help.

Me – “Do you know where the banquet hall is around here?”

Man – “I sure do but you don’t want to go there.  There’s nothing there.”

Me – “I don’t want to go there either but I’m already late for work.  I have to get there fast.”

Man – “It’s too far.”

All I wanted to do was hop on my bike and drive far away from work and everyone.  The bike felt like an extension of myself, I had no fear what-so-ever while riding it.  But I had the panic that comes with being late for something important.  I couldn’t fully enjoy the ride.

I’m still stuck in fear and it’s holding back my heart.

That’s all I can remember about the dream. It’s not difficult to decipher.

All I have to do is furnish at least one of the new massage rooms upstairs and hire another therapist – that’s it.  Then I’m done.  But my biggest problem is my finances.

According to my outward projection, next month I’ll only have $3,200 in the bank and I need at least $12,000 to cover all my monthly expenses.  So yeah, it’s a bit of a problem.

But I’m going to run a Mother’s day special, promote the membership deal again, and offer a “members facial” just for members.  A facial that changes with the seasons so nobody gets sick of it.

I need 40 more members.  Only 40.  I’m going to email blast everyone on Saturday, May 2nd.  I’ll even offer a bi-monthly membership because the number one reason why people drop out is because they have way too many massage credits to catch up on.  Some people can’t make it in every month and they start accumulating.  It’s actually the only reason aside from a few clients who dropped out due to financial reasons.

The bi-monthly membership will remedy both causes.

I’m extremely hopeful even though my bank account is in the red.  I’m hopeful to the point of delusion.

I’m turing one of my new massage rooms into not another couples room, but a tri-client room.  Three people can get massaged at the same time in the same room.  And also it will be my laser light show room.  Laser lights, a fog machine, psychedelic music and black lights – I’ll make it look like nothing anyone’s ever seen before.  I can hang a special laser high up on the wall to point down at the floor so it looks like you’re walking on water.  I can sell it on Groupon and make a killing.  I’ll call it the Party Massage, or something.  Maybe add a little wine before and after.

Everything happens on May 2nd.  May 2nd is the moment of truth.  Can I sell 40 memberships on May 2nd?  Stay tuned…..

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It’s Midnight on Tuesday Night. Do You Know Where Your Parents Are?

No.  No I do not.

If I were to guess, I’d say they were at the casino feeding slot machines when they should be at home feeding me.

Just kidding, I can feed myself.  Mom purposely left pasta out for me to boil.

I always sound so damn helpless when I write truth.  Stupid truth….

Anyway, I got home from work tonight at around 9:30 and boiled water for my pasta.  While I waited for the pot to boil, I sat at the kitchen table and for the first time in a long time, I was completely alone with myself.

No TV, no internet, no phone, no noise, no flatulent worries that reek my mind.  Just me and the kitchen.

I gazed over at our deer head collection.


There went my serenity.  Deer heads?

“Why would anyone want to hang death on their wall as a trophy?”

And for a moment I felt like I was on drugs.  Sometimes when I’m high (which is roughly once a year), it connects me to the emptiness I experienced for two seconds a while back.  Inside the emptiness, you step outside the box (which was never there to begin with), and see things as though it was your first time seeing it and no matter how hard you try, you can’t understand what you’re looking at.  And it’s not about judging anything, you simply don’t understand the reason for something.

This is what we do.  We hang animal heads on our wall.  Why?  There are too many reasons why.  And once you find a reason, you question the reason too.  Why?

A tribute, a trophy, for beauty, for brawn.  We defeated our fear of death by killing something beautiful to feast on.  The mounted head can symbolize the life we have yet to live.  The glory of the hunt, we shall live another day.

Then I looked straight in front of me.


Our house is cluttered with several lifetimes collected on our walls.  I remember when my mom made that sack of potato’s in her arts and crafts class.  I was there with her and made one too.  I was 10 or so.  I bought my mom that picture of the last supper one year for christmas.  She likes that sort of thing.

Then I sunk slowly into sentiment – it’s not the best place to be.  My tarot reader specifically warned me about my sentimentality.

“I won’t be able to live in this house once my parents are gone.  Everything will remind me of them.  I’ll never stop crying.”

Rational Brain – “You have to appreciate them while they’re here.”

“Do I do enough for them?  Do they know how much I love them?”

I’ve experienced true regret only once in my life.  It was real down-hearted grief over not being there when my dog died.  If I never experienced this deep regret, I never would have learned appreciation like I do now.  I never would’ve learned an important facet of love.

My water started boiling.

My business is on the brink of something.  Either failure or success, only time will tell.  My new esthetician is on the schedule for 35 hours a week and I just rented the two empty rooms upstairs for more treatment rooms.  This will cost me a minimum of $2000 a month which I can easily pay if 40 more members sign up.  I believe I can reach 40 more.  The question is, will I reach it before I go bankrupt?

If I get to take my cross-country motorcycle adventure this year, I’ll head straight to California for a 10 day meditation retreat.  I’ll experience true freedom by having all my needs met so I can empty my mind into the emptiness and open my innocent untainted eyes for the first time to connect me with the infinite potential.

It’s real.  That’s what’s crazy.  It’s a real place, the emptiness.  Monks spend years trying to find it, but I found it while falling to sleep while listening to an audiobook.  Albeit it was only for two seconds, but that’s all I needed to understand it.

If I were to experience emptiness while being under the influence of ayahuasca and step into the gateway, I could get lost in there.  I’ll come back being a guru or something.

I should stop blogging for the night.  Before leaving work tonight I surfed the net to escape my mind for a while and ended up on a website that showed pictures they claimed would “make me gush tears”.  And it did.  I gushed.  It’s still lingering in my system like caffeine.

I hate when I get like this, but I’m extra sensitive lately.  Stress makes me more susceptible to feeling things deeper than norm.  It’s like walking around with an open wound that can get infected.  And it’s painfully addicting to keep picking at it.  Almost like you don’t want it to heal.  If it heals, you’ll have nothing to pick at anymore.

Perhaps my sentimentality is a form of control?  No no, I have to stop blogging.  No more questions tonight.


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June 1st is when it’s at

I’m going to hang up my holster and retire from massage starting June 1st.

I can’t do it anymore.  I’ve never been more miserable than I am now.  It never stops.  They just keep booking and booking with me.

For the next two or three weeks I’m booked with clients.  I’m extremely annoyed, frustrated, tired, not to mention broke after spending over $6000 these past two weeks on facial supplies and quarterly taxes.

My esthetician starts work on Monday.  I’m putting her on the schedule, have her fill out paperwork, organize the facial room and go over protocols with her – I have lots to do on Monday, three days from now.

Once my facials are set up and in the system, I’ll promote the membership deal and I have no choice but to rent the two empty rooms upstairs and convert them into treatment rooms.

Which means, I have a shit ton of shit to do…..again.  There’s always a shit ton of shit.

I’ll be having to go to Ikea at least a good 10 to 15 times before getting all the furniture I need for the new rooms.  Then buying the massage tables, stereo systems, more lotion, more sheets…more money out the window.

At least I’m figuring out that the more therapists I have working, the more money I’m likely to make.  This is a HUGE realization, and probably the best news a business owner can hope for.  However, I can’t hire anymore therapists until I rent the rooms upstairs.

I need at least one more therapist.  Just one more and I’ll be free.  Of course I say that every time I hire a new person and it never free’s me.  This time will be different.

I have two therapists waiting for me to hire them – two that are pretty, experienced, and smart!

I hate waiting.

And on top of everything, I still have to give massages.  My frustration is obscene right now.  Ob-freaking-scene.

One of my therapists is on vacation this week.  That’s why I’m more angry than usual.  I’ve been massaging a hell of a lot more than my normal amount.

My brother isn’t speaking to me anymore.  He’s upset that I’m offering facials and he’s scared that I’ll take business away from him.

First of all, his girlfriend is the one who bought the spa near mine and when they split up, he bought her out.  He bought her out even though he knew my business was next to his.

Screw that shit.  I’m not apologizing for anything.  He’s threatening to take down my business – real threats too, not just stupid talk, but hateful comments.  Things you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone who supposedly loves me.

He says that I don’t work hard, that I’m low-balling the massage industry and bringing down its value.  All because I offer memberships.

I’m not only hated by other massage therapists, but now my own brother hates me.

I’ve seen the future of the massage industry way back in massage school ever since learning about Massage Envy.  Massage Envy is the future of massage, we have to keep up with it or get out of the business.

And because I’m keeping up with it, I’m the enemy.

I have too much on my plate to care about anything small.  Petty people, insincere people, spiteful, jealous, insecure – they all piss me off.

Gossip and rumors – who the fuck cares!?  You know?

He’s home.  My brother just got home.  I have to go back to work.

June 1st is my deadline.  June 1st is when I’ll be free of it.

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Stomach cramps to the extreme, enrolling in Husky, and trying to sue a woman for slander all in today’s post

10 years ago I got really sick and sent to the ER for eating an entire loaf of beer battered bread drenched in french onion dip dressing made by the company Tastefully Simple.

You see, I attended a Tastefully Simple party one evening while I was famished and I ate small sample’s of their beer battered bread dipped in french onion dip and loved it so much (because everything tastes amazing when you’re hungry), that I went on ahead and ordered some to make for myself and well, I’m a child when it comes to it.  I can’t feed myself properly.

Anyway, I ended up at the ER with a lousy doctor having no bedside manner telling me I can end up with a colostomy bag and my intestines partially removed.  She said I should get biopsied to see if anything’s cancerous because apparently my insides are a mess.

Well, none of that happened.  I never got a biopsy and never had any part of my intestines removed.  I did however, get a bill for over $2000 which taken me stacks of time and paperwork to finagle myself out of paying it.

Long story long, a few days ago my tummy started up again with the incessant cramping, extreme fatigue, muscle aches and nausea.  It feels like menstrual cramps, but they’re not.

And so like the responsible adult that I am, I called up my landlord whining to him like a baby and asked him to sign me up to Husky because I don’t know how to do it myself and I might die if I wait any longer or worse, have my intestines removed and have to defecate into a bag around my leg.

My landlord helps people sign up for health coverage, it’s one of his many little services he offers.  But there was a bit of transference happening, I ain’t gonna lie.  The guy cares about me and has a ton of experience dealing with sick people.  He was very fatherly to me over the phone and I LOVE when people do that.  Because, well, I am a child.

And so now I’m a proud member of Husky healthcare.  The insurance for poor people which covers EVERYTHING.  They can provide me with food stamps and cell phone coverage if I deem it necessary (which I don’t).

My landlord said that I have to take advantage of it now before I start making money next year because Obamacare is way worse than Husky with their high deductibles and selected doctors.

I laid in bed for most of the day with frozen tater tots on my belly.  I’m going to hold off on seeing a doctor until it’s absolutely necessary simply because, well, shit man I don’t want to get biopsied for cancer.  Can you imagine waiting for those results?  Not for me, no thanks.

But I’m going to look into getting my wisdom teeth removed so they stop f*cking up my mouth and have my eyes checked especially for night blindness.

In other news, Sara Evil, the crazy woman who wrote that nasty review about me, sent me an irate email about how I cancelled her appointments yesterday without her consent.

One of my therapists wrote her an email confirmation explaining that since she was a “no show” for her previous appointment, can she please respond back to confirm it this time.

Then I read the review she left and so logically I had to cancel her – screw that shit.  But I knew in the back of my mind that no matter what I did, she was going to screw us over.  Either by not showing up, or complaining that her appointments got cancelled and guess what?  I was right.

When we cancel a client, they get an automatic email notification saying that their massage been cancelled.

Here’s what she wrote:

I cannot believe you cancelled my appointments because I didn’t confirm with you. You didn’t even give me time to respond. I didn’t get to check my email until 3pm, which by that time I got the cancellation notice. What kind of business do you run? This is ridiculous. I had booked those massages for my husband and I for our anniversary, and was surprising him. So, thanks to you, it was all ruined! I never booked the massage in which you claim I no showed, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. If I had booked a massage, I would surely show up. What is the number you have on file for me?

We have what’s called a “four-handed massage.”  It’s when a client gets massaged by two therapists at the same time.  Well, she booked two of them after having written that nasty review about us.

I tactfully responded with:

Whoa there, settle down. We were all there and you still could’ve came in for your massage but we didn’t hear anything back from you. Have you ever been here before? It looks like you’ve never showed up for any massages you booked in the past.



If she responds with, “no I never been there before”, than I can sue her for slander because her email address is tied in with her Yelp review claiming that she has been here before.  But unfortunately, she’s too smart for that and caught on to what I was doing so she never responded.  She’s probably busy making new aliases so she can write up even more false reviews and in which case, I’ll delete my Yelp account.

As far as my Groupons go, they started selling again today.  So even with her review, we’re still getting clients in here.  I sold 20 today and felt the cramping in my stomach subside and the black cloud removed from my heart.

So, whew, right?  Now I just have to worry about my health and honestly, I’m not even worried about that.

I’m back again at being my happy ol’ self.  It was all just another episode in my life, one of several dozen that usually never make it into my blog.  But I have time now.  I have time as long as it’s not a Friday or Sunday – the two days I’m still scheduled to work.

Deep breath Mel, it’s over.

Why does every goddamned thing I go through have to be so freaking gut wrenching?  Literally this time!?

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Melanie’s black cloud day


Today was weird.  Completely and utterly weird.  And not just because my Mother wanted me to have Fed Ex trace down her package of baby wipes, I mean seriously?  Baby wipes?

My heart is sinking.  You know that feeling?  That feeling you get when a dementor pays you a visit?  It’s fear without hope.

Some woman is out to get me.  She wrote a nasty review on Yelp and said I was a terrible massage therapist (the worst she’s ever had) and she had to go to the hospital after her massage.  The hospital!

Okay, first thing you should know is that this woman was never at my business – I NEVER massaged her.  She said in her review that I offered to give her a spinal adjustment by walking on her back which I’ve never done in all the years I’ve been doing this.

When I get a bad review, I shrug it off.  But what I can’t shrug off is a blatant lie.  I have zero patience for liars.  I’m pissed.  Horribly horribly pissed.

Oh and that’s not all!  This woman keeps booking appointments with us and not showing up for them!  She goes under the alias of Sara E.  She’s never once been here.

I contacted Yelp, the place where she published her slander, and told them that it’s a fake review.

But as a result of her review, my Groupon sales plummeted.  I used to sell 40 Groupons a month which gave me a steady $1000 extra cash a month and now this month I only sold two.

And thus, I’m freaking out.

I woke up from a weird dream today.  I dreamt that some guy was spreading nasty rumors about me that weren’t true.  He was telling people I that I smoked cork, not crack, but cork – what we use to plug wine bottles with.

And yes, it makes no sense.

But I got on his ass and repeatedly asked why.  Why lie about me?  What did I do?

He ignored me and didn’t answer.  I was heated in the dream, but didn’t lose my cool.  My curiosity outweighed my anger.

That’s what’s driving me crazy about this whole thing.  Not knowing why.  Why me?  Why do this?

My employee’s today are the one’s who pointed it out to me.  They saw her on the schedule, knew she wasn’t going to show up, and then searched for her on Yelp where they found her review.  They said the E is for Evil.  Sara Evil.

My therapist – “She’s got it out for you.  This is personal.  Do you have any enemies?”

Me – “Um, sort of.”

What she’s doing is actually a felony.  Slander is a felony.  Unfortunately, the only lawyer we have in the family is a complete bitch.

It’s like, there’s always some kind of nasty hurdle I’m faced with.  This is the first one that’s really nasty though.

I had that dream before I read her review.  When I woke up today I was like, “Shit, I really hope that one doesn’t come true.”  Lo and behold….

I can’t believe the accuracy of my dreams.  I hate them.  I really do.  And I hate my emotional telepathy – being able to read someones thoughts just by feeling their emotions.  I hate it.  And I know you don’t believe me.

I normally don’t crave alcohol, but tonight I’m jonesin for a beer.

I have to get to work on casting the most powerful petronus spell yet.  I have a flurry of swag up my sleeve.  There’s always an answer to every problem.

And as shitty as today went, I swear I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling like my happy self again – I’m not just saying that either, I mean it.  Shit stuff always happens to me, but the next day I forget all about it and keep plugging along.

Oh god I hope I forget about this.  And I hope yelp takes down that false review.

Today felt like the “real” world everyone talks about.  “Welcome to the real world, Mel.  A place where people are rotten and life sucks.”

That’s not my normal world.


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