Category Archives: journal

Waiting for my key

I hired another person yesterday.  Can I pay this other person?  I don’t know.  But I desperately need her.

And that brings me up to 4 employee’s that I have to pay every other week.  A Latina, a Puerto Rican, a caucasian, and a half-black.  I’m technically a minority at my own business.  And because there were plenty of boring white people who applied, this is proof to myself that I’m definitely not a racist.  I haven’t hired an all black person yet, so there’s still a chance I might be.

I fork out over $2,000 a month to pay them.  It’s like I’m walking on glass right now.  Every step hurts.  But I can’t do it alone, I just can’t.

My Puerto Rican therapist just texted me that I have a beautiful soul.  White people don’t do that!  I told him he reminds me of myself because I’m a total schmoozer like him.

My Caucasian therapist is so up-tight that the only time I felt any sort of familiar bond with her was when we both laughed at one of my clients.

I had a client a few weeks ago.  A short plump woman who was all belly with skinny legs and arms, wearing a big tie-dye shirt.  She taken a huge shit in our bathroom just before her massage, and while I was massaging her, she kept nuzzling her head against me like she was a cat.  And then she taken another huge shit (leaving remnants) once her massage was over.

My Caucasian therapist who was working at the time, bursted out laughing.  And then I started laughing.  It was our one and only bond time and it was at the expense of someone else.

Gossiping / making fun of people has incredible bonding capabilities.

What if my minorities start ganging up on this minority (me)?

Nah….

I have so much to write about.  An astronomical amount.  But I don’t know where to start.

Today is Monday, my day off.  I went to work earlier to meet with a woman from the Record Journal.  She’s trying to get me to buy into an online ad marketing program.  Not like Google ad-words, but those other ads you see that follow you around everywhere.  The ones that pop up on random sites that are targeted specifically to you.

It’s just more money that I have to spend, although the salesgirl didn’t call it “spending”, but investing.

I don’t have the words to describe how destitute I am.  If this keeps up, I’ll be bankrupt and out of work within months.

I foreseen getting myself into what I call “Groupon debt”.  Groupon debt is when you sell a bunch of online deals, get one lump sum of cash, spend that cash before redeeming all those online deals, and then you’re left with no money to pay your employee’s – no money, but still a shit load of clients who need massages.

Groupon debt…..

I’m not exactly there yet, but I can foresee it happening.  Even before opening my business, this was one possibility that I had no control over – one possibility that I had no plan for.  My plan for success revolved around having those clients re-book, but here we are going into our third month and still most (about 95%) of our clients are new.

In the meantime, my arms want to fall off.  They want to detach and clatter to the floor like hard brittle rocks.

When I’m playing receptionist, I answer phones sounding so mellow.  Mellow, efficient, zero stress or emotion in my voice.  It’s like I’m doing exactly what needs to be done despite everything – I’m giving myself no choice and because I’m giving myself no choice, I become emotionless.  I’m like a stereotypical massage therapist who’s akin to being a backdrop – a tool, a prop – a secondary character of no consequence.  Someone who does her job so perfectly adequate that she’s disregarded, an after-thought.  Thumbs up and great reviews though.

Where is my heart?

I’m questioning myself.  Just like my tarot reader said I would.  I went to see her weeks ago (I already wrote about it), and she told me there’s a key.  A key I’m waiting for that will open the doors of success.

“It could be a contract, it could be knowledge about a particular software, it could be a skill set, it’s not a big-picture sort of thing, it’s a very specific thing.  Credit with a proper bank….  One key factor that has to be there in order for you to start to… open the doors.”

Those were her exact words.  I recorded the session and I already listened to it more times than I’d like to admit.

I had no idea what she was referring to.  Not only did this “key” not apply to me, but it was the first time I questioned the validity of this specific tarot reader.  “Are they all scammers?”  I wondered.

But then it came.  The key she was talking about.  And yes it is very specific, and yes I’m waiting on it like it’s a matter of life and death.

I have a marketing idea that is so absolutely, irrefutably awesome, that I have no doubt it will work.  At least it should work.  Just enough to keep me out of Groupon debt at least.  If it works better than my realism advises, I’ll be out of this dreadful stress zone and possibly start living inside a fairy tale.

If my idea works, everything, my whole life and everything leading up to this moment, will indeed feel like a fairy tale.  It won’t be a fairy tale ending exactly, but a beautiful beginning.

I’m not going to give you the full details of my plan.  I’m fearful right now, and fearful people are extremely superstitious, so it’ll remain a secret.  All I can tell you is that I’m waiting on my stupid mass emailer provider to kick on.

(My tarot reader said it can be knowledge of a particular software!)

SpaBooker uses MailChimp as their main email provider.  I sign up with MailChimp through SpaBooker (because they are partners), and they allow me to send out mass emails to all my clients.  I have not heard back from them.  Waiting to hear back is like listening to teeth grinding.  The fate of my business (the fate of my fairy tale ending), rests upon the shoulders of MailChimp.

This is the part of my life where I’ll look back on and cringe.

“Oh you poor girl.  You made it through though!  You wouldn’t be this successful if it weren’t for these strength and faith building years.  You are a true hero.  Oh shit, I’m my own biggest hero.  I sound like a damn ego-centric narcissist.  Stop that right now you!”

That’s my future self talking.  Am I accurate future self?

I hath no patience.

And that’s where I am right now.  In this semi-surreal summer of waiting and hoping.

I have quite possibly an awesome post about faith vs hope, but I can’t write about it now.  I have too many buckets.  When I’m carrying too many buckets, I have to put certain writings aside.  They expel too much energy and require full brain capacity.  When I’m operating on full brain capacity, that means I’m utilizing only one bucket.

While I wait for my key to arrive, I’ll have to settle on half a brain, if that.

Maybe that’s why 90% of the population are ignoramuses.  We’re all just waiting.

My new employee works tomorrow from 10-3, which gives me my first real break since I started this business.

For rest periods I now have all day Monday, and Tuesday and Sunday afternoons.  Friday nights can also be blocked off because I have two therapists working.  I unblock myself when their schedules fill up.  Starting tomorrow, it will be the first week of having a little extra rest time.

I’m paying a high price not to be there, but you have to believe me when I say I can’t keep up working all those hours.  8 hands-on hours 6 days a week – it’s impossible.

And I’m so tired……so unbelievably tired and stressed and worried.  I can’t wait until that moment when I can put it all down – all those buckets.  Like I’m returning home, to a safe place. Coming around full circle only to bring back treasure in the end.

Be strong Mel.  You’ve got this!

A client came in the other day with certificates of sponsorship.  He’s sponsoring a child from the Philippines.  I’m offering free massages to anyone who sponsors a child – and I do it happily!  That’s the crazy part.  I don’t enjoy manual labor, but I enjoy it when clients do this.  So if anything, if I completely fail at owning a business, at least I got to save a few kids before going down with the ship.

 

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Another Adventure Into My Head

Ugh, I had another panic attack.

The build (the trace beginnings of the attack) happened when I was depositing money at the ATM – the second day in a row, over $200.

“This is fantastic!  This whole business venture just might work.”

I went home and stared at my accounting chart.  Last week I was negative $359, and this week I’m positive $143.  All my clients today, both new and existing, sounded interested in the membership program, and a new client rebooked for a couples massage next month.  My employee’s are happy and hard working, my goal of reaching 60 members is daunting, but not unfathomable.

My employee has her first full paying client tomorrow – a returning client who specifically requested her.  That puts $58 dollars in my pocket, but only $17 in hers.  My morals are ping-ponging back and forth with wondering how fair this is.

“That’s highway robbery!” Versus, “I paid her $520 these past two weeks for having no clients.  Putting $58 in my pocket doesn’t come close to closing that gap.”

“What if she gets four full priced clients a week?  She’s going to start closing that gap and you’re going to profit off her.”

Versus,

“But isn’t that the whole point of having employee’s?  This is what we agreed on.  She agreed to this.”

Basically what my panic was all about, was my fear of success.  Not just my fear of success, but vilifying my means of obtaining it.  Is it right?  Is it moral?  If it’s so easy, something must be wrong with it.

I can literally feel a physical blockage.  One that doesn’t believe, one that doubts its realism.  With 60 memberships, I can stop taking new clients and only massage members.  60 memberships and my business will be stable enough to run on its own.  60 memberships and I can open a new location….etc.

Not to mention all those full paying clients – the one’s that I don’t personally have to massage.

Snowball effect.  The hardest roll is the first one.  The first 60 members…The first return clients….

If I had 60 members, I would be positive $843 this week in pure unadulterated spending money.  But it’s not that easy, is it?  Nothing can be that easy, right?  If it’s so easy, why isn’t’ everyone doing it?

Another reason for my panic is due to imbibing tea, coffee, and my nicotine e cig.  It’s 2 AM and I can’t sleep.  My panic attack peaked around midnight, I drank a ton of water (I learned from experience that dehydration plays a huge role), and now I can’t stop going to the bathroom.

During my panic, I speculated that it might have something to do with having a PH imbalance.  If our bodies are more acidic than alkaline, would that activate an emotional or mental imbalance as well?

I immediately bought PH strips on Amazon so I can test my urine and bought a book about alkaline diets.

What are you doing Mel, you’re crazy….

Shhhh, shhhhh…..I’m fine.

Then I decided I wanted to be a naturopathic physician and so I Googled how I can become one.

Eight years….med degree…..internships…. expensive schooling….not enough time in life, there’s never enough time.

I went back to thinking about my business.  Wanting to put together an iMovie skit with me and my two employee’s acting to the theme of Charlie’s Angels.  Whipping out our massage bottles like guns, talking on the phone to “Charlie”, all three of us posing at the end in that iconic, memorable stance.

“It’ll be perfect for YouTube, my website, Pinterest, Yelp, FaceBook!  It’ll get us more likes and more notice!”

So many idea’s….stop idea’s….just…. stop…..

“I can do massage bombs!  Ask clients to like me on Facebook and once a month I’ll send a Massage Bomb to one lucky liker for half-off their next massage!”

Brilliant.  Brilliant.

I ran to the bathroom for the 15th time while trying not to disturb my brother and his girlfriend asleep on the fold out couch.  I envisioned what that conversation would be like.

My brother – “What’s wrong with you?  Why are you going to the bathroom so much?”

Me – “I had a panic attack so I drank a lot of water.”

Zugzwang.  The only viable move is no move.

Nothing seems viable.  Nothing seems real – all is too fantastic – too grandiose.  Too perfect.  Shall I not make a move?  Or should I go on ahead?  Continue down this unknown path?

There is indeed a fear of success.  It demonizes you, demoralizes you, shreds your conscience into oblivion.  The only thing that makes sense, the only way to earn it, to deserve it, is to work hard – extremely hard!  That’s the only way I can eliminate the fear.  That black void, the plague, the plaque that corrodes my selfless fibers.

Work hard until I resurface once again at the beginning.  It’ll just be one big cycle, a loop of never-ending hard work and struggle all because I don’t believe it can be that easy.  If it’s so easy, why isn’t everybody doing it?

 

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The Beauty Of One Bucket

My mind is truly gone.

It came back for a few hours but nope, now it is truly gone.

I had a dream years back.  I dreamt of a golden scale.  Buckets of water sat on both ends.  Then I saw one bucket being poured into the other and the scale dropped to one side with a clank.

From the vision alone, I wouldn’t have known what it meant.  But at that moment I was seeing it, I was also intuiting its meaning.

It symbolizes the amount of energy we are given each day.  Everyday we wake up and are gifted with a respectable amount of energy that can be poured into whatever buckets we are focused on.

“But can’t we make more energy as we go along?”

“No.  It’s a set amount.  You can’t make more than what you are given.”

I argued with my dream.  I was stubborn as I typically am when I don’t agree with something.

It doesn’t have to do so much with physical energy as it does with mental energy.  Our mental energy (our focus) is limited and set.  We can’t have more of it just as we can’t have more of time.  As time is measurable, so is the energy we are given to focus with.  Time and energy are interchangeable melodies set to the rhythm of wherever our focus lies upon.

According to the dream, we can only fill two buckets at a time.  However, as long as our energy is divided, we can never master or learn anything new.  We must have only one bucket filled at a time.  Just one, otherwise the scale will remain motionless and unchanged.

“You and your silly dreams.  Dreams are not REAL.”

Oh hey rational brain.  What’s up?

“Explain to me then, what about people having two or more children?  You can’t deny having to split your attention with kids.  I swear Melanie, I don’t even know why I bother with you.  You’re off in you own world living in a freakin…..”

Okay okay, let me cut you off right there.  I understand and yes you’re right.  Focus is definitely divided given the more kids you have and the more responsibilities you get.  I get it.

“So are you saying life is stagnant for these folks?  They can’t get good at anything?  Can’t focus on anything?”

Well for the majority of them, yeah.  But there’s always a choice.  People just don’t have the clarity to see it.  Ayahuasca told me that no matter how dire the circumstance, there is always a choice.

“This better be good or I’m going to disown you as your conscience.”

Okay…..how should I explain…..I’m figuring out the best language to describe the indescribable.

“Blah blah quit stalling.  Out with it.  What’s your solution wise ass?”

One bucket.  Only one bucket must be filled!

“Yes one bucket.  We already got that much.  Are you purposely trying to piss me off?”

No I mean, if we’re only allowed one bucket, why not make it your own bucket?

“I wish I had the hands to slap you with.”

The energy your given each day gets divided into buckets that you’re focusing your attention on, right?

“If you say so.  I still think you’re nuts.”

It’s your attention that’s being divided.  Your attention, but not intention.  There’s AT-tention and then there’s IN-tention.  Focusing AT something takes away, while focusing IN gives to you.

“What the hell are you blathering about?”

It’s not about focusing your attention on something, it’s about having full awareness of what your intentions are.  You can have a gazillion kids and can still get away with having only one bucket.

“You’re still being evasive and alluding the question.  How?  Explain to me how.”

Let’s say little Johnny scraped his knee and needs to get it patched up, while another kid screams at you wanting milk.  Your attention is being pulled from you, not given.  AT, not IN.

“I want to punch your face.  Just be clear for once!”

The answer is to switch your energy inward onto yourself.  This is done through intentions.  And with intention, comes self-compassion, respect for yourself, and respect for your kids as people, not hindrances.

“Not good enough.  Try again.”

Instead of focusing on bandaging your child’s knee, and pouring a glass of milk, the secret lies in why you’re doing it.  Not doing something just to get it over and done with, but why?  What’s your intention?

“Sum it up in one easily digestible sentiment please.”

It’s not about focusing on your kids needs, dividing your attention, getting it pulled from you, it’s about putting it all in one bucket.  The “I intend to be a good Mother” bucket.  It only takes one bucket and pulling from there, you’ll never run out.  It’s either you do or you don’t.  You either have or you don’t have. Finding your truest intentions is the answer to everything!

“For the love of god….”

Hey I saw that eye roll.

“Okay smart ass, what about juggling a full time career and kids?”

That’s unfortunately where the trouble lies.  You can’t split your intention bucket without compartmentalizing.  You’ll have to choose one at a time.  At one point, the two worlds will collide and you’ll have to make a choice.  Growth and expansion can only be found when you decide.  It’s just the same if you are a divorced parent that starts dating someone new and your child feels as if you are choosing your new beau over them – worlds collide.  It’s not about AT-tention, it’s about IN-tention.  Children have a knack for knowing these things.

“Do you feel better after writing gibberish?”

I sure do!

Anyway, I’m writing this post because my energy is splayed out in way too many buckets.  It’s energy spent on worrying.  Nobody intends to worry, so worry is AT-tention, not IN-tention.  And there’s several of them.

Working at Massage Envy or my one-man stink hole office, I had little to worry about.

All that has changed.

It’s like coming home from a hard day and being too tired to exercise.  It’s the same for writing.  I’m spent after a hard day of worrying.

I started a new RPG, Demon’s Souls.  It was only $11 for the digital download on Amazon and it came highly recommended.  The game is punishingly hard.  It’s a vessel for me to pour all my worry buckets into with pure intentions on beating it.

Can you see why video games are so important?  They’re a cheap non-toxic way to self-medicate.

My life always seemed meaningless without writing about it, but now I’m too exhausted to even care.  That’s how bad things are right now.

According to my calculations, I’m bleeding out about $300 a week.  I’m supposed to be making $700 a week, but I’m stuck at $400.  It feels like I’m bleeding money.  Not pissing because that would require me having it to spend, but bleeding.  Pissing is wallet money while bleeding is personal line of credit money.

My Groupons went on sale yesterday and I already sold 127 of them.  I set the cap at 300.  Living Social also contacted me to set up deals with them, but I’m holding off for a bit.

I’m only counting the online deal income as they get redeemed.  I make zero dollars when my employee’s massage them, so I can only count the money if I massage them myself.  But if my employee’s massage them, that’s a wash for that hour and I won’t be negative the $10 I pay them while having no clients.  My employee’s HAVE to massage the online deal clients.  I’m only bleeding $300 a week because of paying my workers for hours when they don’t have clients.

I know it’s confusing, but this is my perspective.  If my employee’s weren’t there, I’d be able to afford the business on my own but that completely defeats the purpose of starting it in the first place.  I’d be sitting there right now answering phones if not for her.  She has one 90-minute massage today, so I’m losing about $35 for paying her for 3.5 hours that are without clients.  Not to mention the $100 I need to make which technically means I’ll be negative $135.  But I have two clients later, so that will eat into some of that negative money.  Not all of it though….not enough of it.

My plan was to not work anymore, but I can’t afford to pay employee’s to sit there without clients, so I have to work.

One girl I hired only works Mondays and is laying in wait for when I can afford her more hours.  I can only afford her when she’s completely (or almost completely) booked up.  Another girl works mornings.  She’s there now answering phones.  It’s ringing like a bitch from the Groupons.

Anyway, it’s stuff you don’t want to read about.  I don’t have the capacity to make it sound interesting.  This is what’s occupying my mind.  Well, there’s that and I have a really good friend of mine that’s refusing to speak to me.

I can’t wrap my head around it.  I asked if we can resolve everything over the phone, or over a cup of coffee, and because I asked that, now she won’t speak to me at all.

We have a rocky friendship.  I try to fix things, to include her in things, talk to her, but she avoids me like the plague.  The only time she actually did call me (in two years) was because another friend told her to.

I have friends that I haven’t spoken to in months, years even, but I know I can pick up the phone anytime and they’ll be there.  There’s no grey area.  I never had a friend in the grey.  It’s either all or nothing.  Just like with those damn buckets.  If you intend to be someone’s friend, you be their friend.  You either have it or you don’t.  It’s not about me not getting attention, it’s about understanding what her IN-tentions are.  Because as of now, I’m drawing a blank.

With Krissy and Amy, they were full on friends.  They either had it or they didn’t.  And they kept on having it up until the very end.  Both of them couldn’t get enough of me.  What I gave them wasn’t enough, so they high-tailed it out of there.  But with this friend, I’m giving my true blue honest all.

There’s underlining anger and resentment that she refuses to talk to me about.  And the more I press, the more she cuts me out.  The more I’m treated like a monstrous plague, the more I press, the more I’m repelled, the more I inquire, the more I’m avoided, the more times I text and press and wonder what the hell is going on, the more aggravated she gets.

God I love you blog.  You have the power of putting everything into perspective I swear.  Life is so ridiculous that I can see the humor in almost anything.  No no strike that, I can see humor in every damn near thing.

For any type of nonsensical drama – the kind that makes you feel real shitty, is the same type of drama that can make you laugh your ass off as long as you change perspective about it.  Haha, it’s funny.  Right?

Man I love myself too damn much….Yes I’m completely at a loss devastated.  Yes it hurts incredibly!  But shit yo, I love myself because I can feel so much.  And because I can hurt so deeply, makes me laugh at my sorry state all the more.

This is my story – my life story online.  The person I am, creates my experiences.  And according to some recent musings, we only experience something if we have an emotional reaction to it.  Emotions are key to life and to learning.  If you shut down one emotion, the rest will be affected in the fragile ecosystem of your humanity.  Your humanly flawed spirit.

My story doesn’t matter.  My experiences don’t matter.  The only thing that matters is who I am and who I’m becoming.

I still want to be Gatsby.  To have the big house, throw extravagant parties.  Invite every lonely sap over for every holiday when nobody else will have them.  When they feel dark and in the void, they’ll always have a place in my home.  Of course I’ll have to section off a part of the house so I’ll never have to see them, but still…..they won’t be alone.

I won’t always see them.  They’ll have to fend for themselves if they come over everyday.  They can all hang out with each other while I’m off doing whatever it is that I do.  Video games, blogging, or sleeping most likely.

I’m equal parts social and anti-social.  Leaning more towards the anti now what with all my new buckets I’m carrying.

Leave me the eff alone people…..

I should end this post.  I have to leave soon to massage those two people.  I still need to shower.

My initial intention was to write a quick blurb about why I haven’t been writing and the flood gates well, sorta opened.  I hardly even touched on a whole lot.

2,274 words later.  Hours to write, minutes to read.

 

 

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The End is Near

I had a credit card dream two days ago.  I dreamt I bought a new hat, a cowboy hat to be specific.  And it cost me $101,000.

Me – “But it’s just a hat!  A hat can’t possibly cost $101,000.  Someone over-charged me.”

Retail girl – “We’ll look into it.”

Then a cluster of shoppers stood outside the entrance of the store and they were all looking up.  I went over to see what they were all looking at, and that’s when I spotted a tornado.

Me – “Run!  Everybody run!”

I ran back into the store while everyone stood outside completely hypnotized by the swirling colors in the sky.  It was actually beautiful, but I didn’t stick around to see it.

People started getting sucked up to the left and right of me.  I figured that as long as I stayed in motion, it would be harder for the tornado to suck me up.  I was right.  I was safe.

Everything in this dream symbolizes monitory troubles.  Everything except the new hat – new hats symbolize business gains.

I went to work at my new business yesterday after having that dream, and sat down beside my new employee, Holly, behind our one desk.

My employee is great.  She’s young, cute, and came very close to selling a membership the other day.  But…..And this is a huge but….

Now I remember why I love working alone.

We have one large reception desk that I managed to squeeze two chairs behind.  We’re in very close quarters – shoulder to shoulder just about.  And this girl can talk.  Man-o-man can she talk.  Not necessarily crazy garbage talk that makes no sense, but the kind of talk you would expect to hear from a 23 year old fresh face normal everyday lassy.

I was never a normal everyday lassy even at her age.

I couldn’t blog, couldn’t read, I couldn’t fall asleep while listening to an audiobook.  I was stuck there – literally, I couldn’t get out.  Our chairs were jammed that close together.

I wanted to bang my head against the desk listening to her.  I couldn’t pay attention to anything she said – and it’s not that I don’t care or don’t like her, I like her a lot actually.  I just couldn’t do it.  My energy waned and I started looking forward to giving a massage – an escape back into my head.

I officially opened April 18 and today is April 24.  I managed to make almost $1000 ($990 to be exact), since I opened (not counting today).  This is in membership sales, gift certificates, and clients that I massaged during those days, 3 of which I had no clients due to Easter weekend.  So in 3 days, I made $990 (not counting tips).

I know what you’re thinking, “dang girl that’s the shit!”  But to me it doesn’t feel like the shit.  I’m still in freak-out mode.  $990 can’t pay for my rent which is $1250 and due in 6 days.  I’m running out of my personal line of credit, and my employee is there all day today with only two clients on the books.  She is my greatest expense.  Not the rent, not the utilities (I got that bill in the mail today), but it’s her.  Only when she has no clients.

I sold 40 Amazon Local Deals.  I get a check from them May 6 (which I don’t count as earned money until they get redeemed).  I’m also selling 300 Groupons starting May 6.

Groupon upped the amount they pay merchants from $18 a massage, to $20.  My therapists get $12 for massaging Groupon and Amazon Local people.  If they rebook with my therapists, they get $17 for massaging them.

I’m still utilizing my original plan of attack.  Sell Groupons, keep my employee’s fully booked, and wait (pray) for the rebookings.  Once the rebookings start, I won’t have any more dreams about tornado’s.

I’m using Massage Envy’s mode of structure which entails memberships.  If I can sell 60 memberships, I’ll be set for life.  My business will be established and stable with 60 memberships.  I sold 2 in those 3 days I been open.

I’m sitting in my office in Middlefield. I’m here today, tomorrow, and Tuesday is my last day.

There’s no better way to savor the end of an era with a video clip.  My little office may be dying out, but my dream of being a self-made millionaire shall live on.  And okay, I’m a dork with iMovie.

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The Guys I Dated

 

I dated a guy a while ago and wrote a trilogy about him.  It’s entitled “Why I don’t date.”  You can find the first post to it here.

I should come with a warning label for all who date me.

WARNING:  I read into and analyze everything.

Nothing slips by me.

I’m empathetic to a telepathic degree,

and I SEE THROUGH EVERYTHING.  

It’s illegal to remove or tamper with this tag.

The only time I get hurt is when other people’s insecurities seep out and affect me.

I’m going to go deep here, but if you think good and hard, you’ll understand all that I say.

It all comes down to insecurities.  Why do men use women?  Why do they sleep with them and toss them aside?  For one thing.  Validation.  And why do they need validation?  Because they’re insecure.  As long as a person remains insecure, they’re incapable of loving anyone – they can love a pet, or someone they feel comfortable around.  They can love a person they consider to be on or below their “level.”

If they’re attracted to someone who they discretely view as “above (doesn’t need)” them, they’ll cut them down.  Intentionally or unintentionally, it happens.  It happens because they feel threatened.  It’s an innate impulse that both men and women share.

When I was under ayahuasca (I know, blah blah shut up with that already), I seen all this so immaculately clear.  I also understood that as long as you love yourself unconditionally, you will never feel the need for validation.  And when that happens, only then can you love others unconditionally.

But none of us love ourselves unconditionally.  We always doubt.  We always need someone to tell us we’re okay.  We can only love ourselves when others love us first.

And when a person detaches themselves from us we say good riddens.  “I never liked you anyway.”

I’ve been in that bad place where I had no one to tell me that I’m okay.  I been there.  That’s how I know all this!  You can only know the things you’ve experienced.  But you can only wake from it once you’re aware of it – once you understand and actually see it.

The heart always leads you into understanding – don’t let go until you find it.

But then again, once you understand what’s happening, you realize that it has absolutely nothing to do with you.  And in some cases, it’s in fact you who needs and wants validation from a person who needs and wants validation from you.

Us humans make love out to be just another ego game.  We don’t have the capacity understand it.

Sure we can love our kids, but when they start misbehaving, do we retract our love?  Sure we can love our spouse, but do we retract our love when they’re unresponsive?

Love IS understanding.  If people understood each other, there would be no disagreements.  There would be no hate.  My heart is always tugged in the direction of understanding.

But then again, ayahuasca told me to let go and to trust.  That I don’t need to understand.  But how can I grow and evolve if I’m unable to see my own mistakes?

I can’t let go, understand, or see something that I’m emotionally attached to.

But anyways, where was I?  Ah yes.  Insecurities.

I am hurt by other people’s insecurities.  The way they treat and view themselves, is in exact accordance with how they view and treat me.  If you’re unable to understand this, you’ll just have to trust me on it.  I’m a big deep thinker and did all the grunt work for you, but yeah, it’s true.

Trust me.

But the crazy thing is, once you do understand, you can see it in yourself.  How your actions towards others is in exact accordance with how much love and trust you give to yourself.

Everything is relative.  There is only one tree of life, all is dependent (which by the way amazes me and I’ll have to write about that separately).

I’m NOT saying this to make myself sound grand or anything, but I can see everything there is to know about a person.  And I mean everything.  I swear, it’s like I have X-ray goggles or something.  I’m not embellishing.  If anything, I’m watering it down.

I step back, take in the full view, and I empathize.  I empathize while remaining detached.  I believe it’s for this very reason, why people are attracted to me.  And because I remain detached, they look at me as a puzzle to be cracked.

They don’t trust themselves, so they don’t trust me – they don’t trust me because they can’t own me, just like they can’t own themselves.  There’s a certain degree of fear in all my relationships.  I bring out the demons in people.  I swear I see everything.

I wasn’t expecting to write all this.

Initially I wanted to write about the guys I dated.

The guy that triggered my “Why I don’t date” trilogy, he’s been trying to contact me for the past month or two.  My interest in him has plummeted down to zero which leaves me to wonder, am I unforgiving and/or judgmental?

I just don’t give a shit to be honest.  I’m too tired.

But he’s not what brought about this post.  What really brought it on is that Norm, a guy I dated once two years ago (you can read about him here), died yesterday.

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I was a different person back then.  I was happier, but scattered.  Now I’m transfixed and miserable.  I dated him when I was scattered and happy.

I can’t believe he died.  It’s freaky because he said that life is short and we should spend every minute embracing it by doing exactly what we want to do in every moment.

He said it to get me to sleep with him.  But he was actually sincere in his words – it wasn’t just a line, he truly meant it.

One of the warnings on my label suggests that I’m empathetic – which means I can tell the fakes from the phonies.  Well, this guy meant it.  He meant it to the point where I felt what he was feeling and I agreed with him.

But he died of a heroin overdose.  He died doing exactly what he wanted to do, which leads me to wonder, at what point is the cut off?

Ethics, morals?  Do they play a part?

For me, it comes down to respect.  I respect myself and my body.  I respect it so much in fact, that I don’t want to do drugs or have promiscuous sex.  I can have either one.  They are a phone call away.  I’d rather eat cold shrimp and blog at 3:30 AM (which I’m doing now).

And in a weird way, because I respect myself and my body, I respect life.  My desires, or perspective rather, was different from his.  Not that his were wrong, only that they’re not mine.  Just a different path.  I respect his path and withhold all judgement.

You change your perspective, you change your life.  Stop being insecure, don’t stop wanting to find answers – you’re actually finding answers about yourself, not just answers to why someone hurt you.

Norm escaped all that.  He opted out.

I learned in life that the hardest thing to do is often the right thing to do.  It’s not about doing exactly what you want to do, but seeing the bigger picture and how everything ties in.  Empathize, understand, naturally detach only to reconnect with truth.

It all comes down to the bigger picture in the end.  It’s something none of us can see until a part of us dies.

 

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I’m officially the boss of someone

I had a panic attack last night all because the girl I hired didn’t text me back right away.

“Oh no she changed her mind!  Now I have to settle on one of those other girls I interviewed!”

I interviewed four people so far.  The only one I really liked, I hired on the spot.  I gave her a key and put her on the schedule starting April 18th.

I’m learning so much about myself during this whole process of hiring people.  I’m learning the importance of confidence and especially of self-worth.  The girl I hired acted like she belonged there.  That she’s not below me, or below being a confident MT.  I see her potential.

And as silly as it sounds, I hired her because she’s a new massage therapist.  I’ll get to mold her to my liking without her taking offense.  That can’t be done with seasoned vet’s.

Yesterday I interviewed a woman from India.

“Oh yay!”  I thought to myself.  “This woman must know her shit.  People from India take massage very seriously.”

I glanced at her application, and looked up at her.  “Oh man I really want you to massage me right now.”

“You do?  I can do that.”

Me – “Are you sure?  I don’t want to put you on the spot.”

Her – “No problem.  I’ll massage you.”

Well, she massaged me and it wasn’t what I had hoped.  She has experience, she’s Indian, professional, confident, but, eh.

Racial profiling is rarely accurate…

Also, she’s somebody that can’t be molded.  She’s somebody that believes there’s a clear definitive line between swedish and deep tissue.  There is no clear line, only sucky massage verses a great one.

Another girl I interviewed felt a bit impulsive and overbearing.  She told me I should charge more for pregnancy massage and that I should keep the massages to 50 minutes.

Another girl was incredibly sweet.  She’s been working at Massage Envy for 3 years and wants out.  She treated me like I was an actual boss and sincerely laughed at my stupid jokes.  But…..would I want to get a massage from her?  Would I come back to see her?  To request her?

She gave me the impression that no, I wouldn’t anticipate another massage from her.  But she’s so sweet and genuine!  Why Melanie must you be such a prick?

It’s business.  Nothing personal.

I’m looking for people with intelligence, confidence, and charisma – someone who wants to learn.  Someone I can teach without them taking offense.

And so, last night I panicked because the one girl I felt was perfect for the job, didn’t text me back right away.  My mind swirled out of control.

“It’s not real Mel.  None of what you’re feeling is real.”

The thing with panic attacks is that they’re just as much physical as they are mental.  Meaning, that becoming aware of my thoughts and getting a grip on them doesn’t always stop the physical side effects from happening.  Shortness of breath, speedy pulse, complete terror.  I swerved very close to experiencing the terror – I felt it before, and so I recognized what was happening to me.  And it IS physical.

“It’s an attack!  Calm the eff down girl.  Calm the eff down.”

It’s like sitting atop a spooked horse.  You, the rider, know what’s happening, but the bucking bronco between your legs won’t stop.

“First control your thoughts….but businesses fail.  MOST businesses fail!  I don’t know what I’m doing.  And I’m alone in this!”

“It’s not life or death.”

“But it’s my life!”

The physical side of anxiety can best be described as chronic pain.  People with chronic physical pain can’t get better because they can’t separate themselves from the pain.  It’s always there.  They can’t forget and let go, but cope.

Anxiety is no different.  You can’t separate yourself from the physical repercussions of it.  It’s a cycle that needs to run it’s course.

At the time of the attack, I was playing a video game called Borderlands which I attribute as being the trigger.  It wasn’t all because that girl didn’t text me back, but that I was playing a highly frustrating first person shooter game on a big screen TV.

It stressed out my adrenals, I was dehydrated, I haven’t been eating well because of stress – it was NOT a good time to be playing that game.  I’m throughly convinced now, after getting an attack, that video games cause ADD.

I’m home and working on a sign for my business that I can zip-tie to a poll on our one main road in town.  There aren’t many signs on polls where I’m from, so when I come across them, I notice and can’t help to read them.  One guy buys houses, another one is selling mattresses.  Really guy?  Mattresses?

My sign is going to overpower their little crappy signs.

$45 INTRO MASSAGE

GRAND OPENING APRIL 18TH.  

And since I’m an artsy dork with Prismacolor markers, I colored the crap out of it.

But anyway, interviewing people really got me thinking…

What makes a person confident?  Belief?  But what makes them believe?

I took this question and kneaded it over for about three hours while I was massaging.  And what I found it all comes down to is this:

Experience.

Not only experience, but the ability to do something scary – something you’re really not confident for, but you do it anyway.  It’s how people learn.  And in my personal experience with walking the Camino, it’s only when you push yourself, do you find your self-worth.

I’m slowly getting my mind back.  Slowly – very slowly.  This past week I blocked off most of my schedule because well, I needed it.

How easily we can get lost in our lives.  To lose perspective, to lose ourselves.  It’s too easy.  But for me, it’s a necessity that I don’t.  Because when I do, episodes like last night happen.

The thing is, no matter what I’m thinking about, no matter where my focus is, I go deep into it and stretch my sanity strands until they’re frayed and broken.  It doesn’t matter what it is.  I could be sitting on the toilet completely engrossed in my bathroom book (the lazy intellectual), reading about linguistics and the history of language – amazing.

Like for instance, did you know that seibzehnhundertsechsundseibzig is 1776 written out in German?  What’s it like writing out checks for those guys, you know?

It’s like massaging a person and palpating their tight muscles – it’s understanding them to the point where I communicate with them, I experience them as much as the client.

So if we learn through experience, and experience alone, what entails experience?  What is it exactly?

I kneaded this one over too.  While I massaged for those 3 long isolating hours.

When we perceive something, our eyes are the first to see it.  If what we are seeing doesn’t register, we have no gut reaction to it – no feeling towards it.  And so, our thoughts are used to decipher what we see when our feelings are absent.  Can thought be experience?

I found the answer to be no.

“Can you experience a thought?”  I thought to myself.  “Not if that thought doesn’t carry any emotion.  A thought can’t carry emotion like an idea can.”

In buddhism, yes.  Technically yes you can experience a thought.  As long as you’re an outside observer of that thought, you can say, “hey look guys!  I’m experiencing a thought right now.”  But that’s besides the point and will only confuse you.  I’m sure you’re already confused.

No, what I’m trying to say is that experience happens when you are emotionally moved by a thought.  Emotions help you to understand the thought.  Without emotions, we wouldn’t be able to comprehend anything and grow.

So, in conclusion, to feel something emotionally brings about experience.  Experience teaches you.  Experience brings you confidence.  As long as you’re aware of your emotions, you gain experience.

“But what about con men or sociopaths?  They have no emotions and yet they come off as being charming and experienced.  If you only learn through emotions, than how do you explain that?”

Rational brain, I missed our debates!

“Answer the question.”

Um, okay.  That’s a good one.  I was wondering that myself.

“You’re completely schizophrenic I hope you know.”

Con men and sociopaths have no empathy, but that doesn’t mean they’re incapable of feeling emotion.  If they were incapable of emotion, they wouldn’t get off on doing what they do.  They are emotionally selfish and have reached the highest level of narcissism.  Their emotions are self-fulfilling, completely turned inward.

“But aren’t all emotions inward?”

Not love or curiosity.  With those two things, you are connecting yourself with something outside yourself.  You can only know yourself by seeing the contrasts, and you can only see the contrasts if you experience the outside world.  This is where you find self-love, worth, and confidence.

“Sociopaths can be curious.  They can set people up and prod them to get a reaction.  Like all people are guinea pigs to them.”

“You are so freaking difficult.  Yes, okay, they can be curious.  I guess that’s partly where they get their experience from.”

Anyway, it’s late.  It’s 1:25am actually.  My sign board for my business sits uncompleted.  I won’t be able to sleep until it’s finished.

I have two more interviews to give tomorrow and then hopefully I’ll be done with that portion of the business building.

A part of me feels like it’s all pretend.  Like I’m interviewing these people, but not really.  I don’t have the money to employ them, I’m not a boss, I have no work for them.  It almost feels like I’m playing.  I’m playing a game called “let’s see what it feels like to start a business” game.

It would be horrible – absolutely horrible if this feeling actually holds merit.  A portion of it does, but the bigger part of it is yes, I can pay them, yes, I can get them tons of work and damn right I’m the boss.

Okay, I really need to finish my sign.

Tonight is the first in months where I was able to settle down and think.

There are three types of people in the world;  Those who can be moved, those who can’t be moved, and those who move.

Let your emotions move you, but not control you.  Let your thoughts guide you, but not fool you.  Let experience in, and become it to the world.

A wise tribal man once told me to “Be the experience.”  Since I’m on the topic of experience, I thought I’d throw that in.  I’m too tired to connect it to the post however, and I already wrote about his phrase thoroughly in the past, so I’ll just let it sit for now.

Okay, I gotta go.

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No rest for the weary

On top of everything, my two best friends in the entire world are going on vacation without me.  Not only did they not ask, but they refuse to let me come.  My two best friends!  This sent me into a torrential downpour of feeling sorry for myself.  I can’t explain why they won’t let me come because I have no idea, except, well, they hate me.

Me – “What if I come for the last day?”

Friend – “It wouldn’t be worth it.”

I can’t explain the amount of hurt this gave me.  It’s one of those things you’d just have to experience for yourself.

After hearing the news, I drank myself into oblivion at a friends house until 4:30 in the morning.  It was a fire pit and there were a group of us there.  I got along with everybody and felt they all loved me and my company.

That’s the thing about taking things personally.  All it does is hurt your ego.  You feel like something is wrong with you, or your money (worth) holds no value to anyone.  But then when you step away from all that, talking to people who adore you until 4:30 in the morning, you can’t help wonder why everyone can’t all be like that.  Why there are some who make things so complicated.  If it’s not me, then what?  And why?  What did I do or didn’t do?

I haven’t visited my friend who lives in MN for two years.  That’s what I didn’t do.  She texted that to me today, while I’m here massaging people in my tiny office – a place that drives me completely insane.

It’s dark.  I’m alone with my thoughts.  I listen to the same 100 songs being played over and over again all while it’s absolutely gorgeous outside.

Them going away together and leaving me out is my fault.  Nobody is completely blameless, but at least now I know.  At least now it makes a little more sense.

When I learn what I do wrong, that’s when everything makes sense.  I’m a bad friend.  A horrible, retched friend.  The reason why I forgive others so easily is because I myself, am horrible.

But at the same time, it’s all perspective.  People gossip and spread poison, it gets in your head until that’s all you see.  You stop empathizing and start judging and blaming.  The more closed off you are, the more things you hide, the more you blame and judge and close yourself off from any form of understanding.

All done out of pride.  To preserve the ego.  To bask in the merriment of being on the winning side and not at all be labeled the crazy one.  You can’t be crazy if others see what you see.  But how can anyone be proud of that?

I have little pride, but I know I’m worth something.  We’re all worth something.

Me having little pride and just wanting everyone to get along, gnaws at people.  By accepting blame, going any length to make things right – this gnaws at people too.  I don’t let up with wanting to talk things through.  I don’t let up with my apologies that land on stone ears.  I can’t let go if I don’t understand.

The stuff that happened with Krissy and Amy – I completely understand.  I tried talking things out with Amy, but it turned out that she couldn’t get past the fact that she can’t own me.  And it’s the same with Krissy.  I texted Krissy until my fingers bled, but I got nothing.  I let her down one too many times.

If I was under ayahuasca, she’d tell me all this is meaningless.  None of it matters in the end.  All that matters is how you’ve grown from it.

How do I know if I grew?  When I stop getting hurt all the time and instead I get disappointed?

Damn I miss you blog.  You’re missing so much of my life lately – more so than usual.

 

 

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My Brother’s using my laundry detergent

I’m almost sure he is.  Not only that, but my toothpaste too.

He has the tendency to fall asleep during a movie and the menu screen pops up and plays the same theme music over and over again.  Very loud mind you.

We both live downstairs in my parents split level house.  I have my own enclosed bedroom, while he sleeps on the couch without any real privacy. The place is a sty.

Two nights ago I woke up to the loud repeating theme music playing on the DVD’s title screen.  I couldn’t fall back to sleep with it on.  So I got up, opened my bedroom door and caught him in the act of “cuddling” his girlfriend.  I didn’t care.  I went right over to the TV and shut the damn thing off.

Not to mention there’s never any hot water anymore.

I’m sitting here in my stink hole office feeling thankful that my first client never showed.  My brain is still on autopilot.  I have no time to delve into deep thought.  My cheese is sliding off it’s cracker.

But him using my laundry detergent really irks me.  I need it to wash sheets everyday.  And the other day when I told him I needed to take a shower, he put a load of wash in and set it to warm/cold.

“But there’s no hot water for me!”

“This laundry needs to get done.”

I needed to be at work in an hour.

I switched it on cold/cold the first chance I got.  There was no warm water anyway!

I blocked yesterday off so I could focus on my new office.  I ran around from one store to the next, and stayed at the new office until 8:30 at night – when my stomach could no longer contain its hunger.  And I’m still not done.

I’m so close.  Sheets need to go in the cabinets, lotion bottles need to be filled.  I need to set up my Kuerig, unroll a rug I bought from Ikea, move a bench from my old office into the new.  Mount mirrors in each room, write up a cheat sheet so my employee’s can learn how to book appointments online and oh yeah, hire employee’s.

I can’t do anything while I’m here in this stink hole waiting for clients.

My excitement manifests into frustration whenever I can’t have my way immediately.  I have no patience.

And I’m sick on top of everything.  My phone won’t stop ringing.  Some weird guy just called asking about massages.

My blog will duly suck for the time being.  I must end this post.

 

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8 days left

My brain still doesn’t’ work.  That’s why I haven’t been blogging lately.

When my brain fails to ponder, life goes by really fast.  I can’t catch up to it.  I have no time.

Wow shit.  I can’t think.  Is this how normal people are?

Today is March 23, 2014 which leaves me with 8 days left to finish setting up my new office.   8 days to get everything done.  It sounds like enough time, but I’m still taking clients here at my stink hole office in Middlefield.

I’m here now.  Here at my little office.  The guitar instructor that rents an office down the hall bought a massage for his girlfriend and that’s who I’m waiting for.  A quick $70 bucks then off to Bed Bath & Beyond.

Okay, she’s done.  That was fun.

So yeah, my blog sucks right now.  My brain sucks.  I’m suffering from real exhaustion.  My eyes want to close, I’m coughing and I have a sore throat.  The people helping me with my office are Godsends – real life angels!

My friend fixed the closet in my office yesterday.  She fixed the damn thing in 10 minutes!  And the day before that, Dave stopped by toting a few beers and fixed a lock I was having trouble with and then helped me build two Ikea lamps.  He literally felt like an angel.

One friend gave me wall decorations, another is making shit loads of homemade soap so we can sell it together when the place opens.  My dad has unrelenting support in helping me build cabinets, move stuff, fix stuff.  My Mother is excited about the whole thing.  Texting me that everything will be wonderful.

My brother gave me shells he found on the beach. He calls them whompom and they’re supposed to relieve stress when I rub them.  Even if he’s full of shit, the fact he cared enough to do that, made me happy and appreciative.

I’m beyond words as to how much work is actually involved in something like this.  Something as simple as dealing with AT&T to come fix my severed phone line, made me miserable.  Four times they showed up while I wasn’t’ there.  Four!

Anyway, my brain is not working properly, so this post needs to end.  I’m writing with no point, just for the sake of it.  That’s never a good time to write.  I need to make face cradle covers tonight.  This involves a sewing machine.

I better go.

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A rubbish post

I shouldn’t be here.  My parents tried for six long years before they had me.  And after nine months of being in the womb, I still didn’t want to come out.  I was a full grown baby living inside someones stomach until the doctors decided enough was enough.  And now that I’m out (unwillingly), 34 years later, I still haven’t left.  Not really.

I always keep one foot outside reality, placed in a dream that I no longer belong to.  A dream of vast possibilities, of emptiness (the good kind).  A dream I could never understand or grasp for more than a few seconds at a time.

Lately I’ve been getting flashes of serenity.  Of some great power hidden inside me.  A power that I once knew how to wield, far before I knew this world.  It’s not exactly destiny, more like learning who I am.  Learning my capabilities and learning what I can do is just another way of learning who I am.

To avoid sounding vague, and to avoid subjective misinterpretations of what I’m saying, I’ll be clear.

I feel golden.

Not all the time mind you, just flashes.  They are golden flashes amid a sea of worry, sadness, doubt, and depression.  The sea of fear is where this little golden child was born into.  A place where she choses to keep one foot affixed in the interstellar matrix of wonder and amazement. Of possibilities that allude and delude….shit my next client is here.

It’s now the next day.  What the hell was I talking about yesterday?  It’s the kind of post that never leaves my draft folder.  My draft folder has hundreds of these doodles.  I call them “doodles” because they’re meaningless and have no ending.

Life is a doodle of creation.

There I go again.  WTF brain?

I’m in work and just finished with my last client.  Now I have to go to Target to exchange some curtain rods, then Joe-anne Fabric to get about 6 yards of fleece for face cradle covers (they are less expensive that way), then Bed Bath & Beyond to get their cute water jug with a spout and a versatile $50 cabinet that can store all my face cradle covers.  Then off to Pier One to pick up my bench that just came in, then to my office where I have mass tons of work to do.  Massive truck loads of work.

This is the shit that no one cares about.  The shit that goo’s up your brain.  Where am I in all this?  I haven’t’ been sleeping or eating.  I look atrocious.

My Dad – “You look horrible.”

Me – “It’s windy out and I haven’t been sleeping.”

That video I shot a few days ago, I was tired then, but things keep piling up and I look even worse now.  I can’t breathe, I can’t relax.

Shit, I have leave to go do all that stuff.  I need to go to the post office and the bank too.  Oh man…..

:(

This post is rubbish.  My brain can’t think when it’s like this.

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