Category Archives: journal

I Missed it Again

I ended up not going to the book club meeting again.  Instead, I played on the computer and lost track of time.  When I looked at my watch, it was 7:10 pm, I had to be there by 7:30.

I actually hopped in my car and drove to the Heart of Darkness (AKA New Haven CT), parked in a garage and stood in front of 300 George St.

It was a big building.

Me – “What room is it in?”

I looked at my phone to see it was 10 of 8.  It was getting dark.  I was hungry, dehydrated, tired and scared.  It was only 30 days prior in that exact location where they found a bloodied human torso.

Me – “Walking back to my car will be a bitch.  And I’ll be tipsy on wine……it’s scary here.  It’s freaking scary.”

In other words, I chickened out.  I totally and completely chickened the fuck out.

I posted a message on their website apologizing for not showing up due to tardiness and the organizer responded back with, “Everyone’s late.  You would have been in time for pizza!”

While I was on the Meetup website, another group was recommended to me.  A writers workshop group.  I clicked ADD ME.

It’ll be just another group that I’ll say I’ll attend but never do.  The thought of going seems like a wonderful fantastic idea but once I’m home, it’s hard prying myself back out.  I’ve always suffered with this affliction.  Especially if it entails me having to drive into the Heart of Darkness meeting people I’ve never met before.

And I’ve developed a new system for keeping track of member clients.  Well, I didn’t actually come up with it, my new employee did.

But in order to change over to the new improved system, I have countless hours ahead of me with having to go through each member and looking up their history, all their appointments, all the times they’ve been billed – it will take a gargantuan amount of time.  Seemingly, an infinite (yes infinite) amount of time.

There’s always shit I have to do and whilst in the midst of getting this shit done I always say to myself, “this will be the only time I’ll ever have to do this.  Once it’s done, it’s done.”

But then a completely new shit will arrive.  There’s ALWAYS shit!

You want to know the worst shit of all?  Sheets.  Going to the laundromat to wash sheets.

I.  Fucking.  Hate.  It.

I blocked off tomorrow night for some reason.  I wrote in the notes “I have plans.”

I block time off my schedule whenever I make plans so my employee’s know not to schedule me.  But I always forget what my plans are – almost every single time I forget.

So, I have plans tomorrow night.  Friday night.  I’m sure those plans, whatever they may be, are awesome.  But guess what those plans are now?  Washing fucking sheets.  I’m glad I blocked off Friday night – I’m glad so I can wash fucking sheets.

I’m miserable at the laundromat.  Everyone knows to stay away from me.  I put on my heavy-duty headphones so I can’t hear myself swear.

I have the habit of swearing in my head.  “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck fuck fuck.”  But when I’m at the laundromat, it’s audible.  I can’t contain it.

When I drop my quarters on the floor, “Son of a fuck.”

While I’m struggling with stuffing clean sheets into my sack, “Son of a fuck whore.”

When the sheets take forever to dry, “You’re kidding me with this shit.”  I fish out another quarter, shove it in the machine, “Fucking dry already!”

All while listening to my headphones, being completely deaf to myself.

The first thing I must do after fixing my debt is to get my employee’s mother to start washing sheets again.  This is URGENT.  Other than my impending doom involving the police, washing sheets is the next urgent matter.  It’s killing me.  It’s turning my nails yellow.

I NEVER swear.  You can ask anybody, I’m not a swearer.  But nowadays it’s slipping out unperturbed.  Audible diarrhea.

I desperately need to write my book.

Every great once in a while (about once a month), I find myself with nothing to do for the day.  I’m rested up, fed, everything’s done.  That’s the time I ask myself, “what do you want to do today more than anything?”

Write.  It’s always write.

I used to love playing alone when I was a kid.  I was able to concoct fantastical worlds using pure imagination – my imagination, my rules, my world.  I had the best time of my life doing this.

I remember when that feeling started slipping away.  When I held an action figure in my hand and I was like, what the hell do I do with this?  I tried playing with it, but it lost all magic.

You have no idea how deviated this made me.  I was heartbroken.  My one true joy in life no longer filled me and it edged a little bitterness into my heart.

I washed this bitterness down with video games.  I was around 9 when it happened, close to 10.  My aunt bought me a really cool Teenage Ninja Turtle fortress for Christmas and I was looking forward to playing with it, but I couldn’t even when I tried.

But I think it’s because of my love of fantasy, that makes me want to write.  To be able to experience that world again, to completely lose myself in its divinity.  Oh God how I loved it.  I even remember the stories I made up!

I need to end this post.





Filed under All about me, journal

The comfort of the dead of winter

With my new explosive problem looming on the horizon, I’m doing what any sane business woman would do; closing my eyes as tight as I can until I disappear and I’m left with just a really long forehead.  I’ll open them again once the storm passes.

The detective stopped by the office today.  It was nice having my employee’s there with me.  It’s like I don’t have to go through it alone.  They are all on my side.  The detective was even on my side.  The support I felt was very, well,….supporting.

Um nom shabody Um nom shabody….relax.

I’m ignoring it.  I’m ignoring everything.  I’m asking the appropriate questions and doing what needs to be done, other than that, I’m ignoring it when it’s not there in front of me.

I just woken up from a nap.  I’ve been extra sleepy lately due to sunburn.  I don’t apply sunblock to my face anymore because it always gets in my eyes, and I forgot to wear my hat so I brought home a lobster face after boating on the Connecticut River.

Connecticut is so beautiful……

Summer is my favorite season.  I love it more than anything.  But because there’s a fine line between love and hate, I actually hate it now more than I love it.  I hate it simply because I can’t have it.

It’s been one problem after another this summer.  I had to be at work almost every single day.  And when not at work, I was majorly impacted with money issue’s.

And so, my new favorite season is the dead of winter.  I don’t give a shit about the dead of winter.  The dead of winter doesn’t make me feel guilty for missing its bleak frigid stiffness.  Like a cold shoulder you can count on to be cold, you’re not hurt or taken aback by expecting anything less.

Tonight is my science fiction book club meeting and I’m laying here in bed not wanting to go….again.  But I read the book and I liked it this time, and the organizer posted a message saying she has wine, lots of wine and she’ll hunt us down if we don’t show up.

My stupid grinning face is on the list of people who are going.  I’ll feel bad if I pull another “no show” .  Plus, these are my kind of people.  Superhero aficionado’s, video gamers, and gadget geeks.

The other day I was studying up on origami by watching YouTube tutorials (I watch how to make them but never actually do it), and guess what one girl posted in the book club group?  A link on how to build Iron Man origami!  Yoda, the dementors from Harry Potter, Batman, and a few others were there.


I can’t believe this is my branch of the category tree.  This is the stereotype that I fall into.  It would be awesome if any of them would want to make funny YouTube video’s with me – yes, I’m a total geek.

A geek of my caliber isn’t afraid of the camera.  I have countless home video’s to prove it.

I’m inching my way closer to freedom (as long as my new explosive problem stays under wraps).  By freedom I mean, I’ll finally have time to blog more, travel more, live more fully – time to build those damn origami figurines!

This was a hard summer.  So hard in fact, that all I want to do is hibernate.  I want to sleep it off.  Sleep for the rest of my life actually.

I had a few golden nuggets of sunshine, but they were overshadowed with worry.  They took place only to show me what I’ve been missing.

I even had a hypochondria scare!  I thought I had jaundice, which is a disease that points to an even greater illness.  Like pancreatic cancer, or any type of cancer really.

I painted my nails black and when the paint chipped off, I could see in the sunlight that my nails had yellowed.  I freaked out.  I had trouble breathing, I got lightheaded, I felt like I might collapse……

This hasn’t happened to me in a very long time – panic induced by hypochondria.

“This isn’t real Mel, it’s not real.”

“But my nails are yellow!  My eye is yellow too!”

I’m still a little freaked, but it’s wearing off.  I’m not 100% certain it’s due to my black nail polish.


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Be Positive and Get Positive Results. THIS IS BULLSHIT PEOPLE!

Who’s to say what’s positive anyway?  How do we know if getting fired is a negative thing?  Or getting divorced, going bankrupt, getting sick, having nobody, thrown onto the street, how do we know all that’s bad?  How do we know for certain?

When I was under ayahuasca, she told me that the whole point of us being here is to evolve and that we evolve through suffering.  There is NO other point.

You can be positive all you want, but shits going to happen.  Bad shit.  Worse nightmare sorta shit.

Why?  Because of karma.  Karma isn’t what you think it is.  Karma is fear.  What you’re afraid of happening, will happen.

You can’t accept or conquer fear simply by denying it.  Positive thoughts = denial.  And denial leads to physical and mental disorders according to Scott Peck in his book,  The Road Less Traveled.

I live in a harsher reality than what Eckhart Tolle paints.  I live in the world ayahuasca showed me.  It’s not all shits and giggles.  It’s real.

I’m in the midst of writing a very long post about my business, but I just had to throw this one out to y’all in the meantime.  Something major happened.  Something majorly fucked up.

It’s so heinous in nature, so venomous, so demented, that I’m unable to write about it – it’s that bad.

Have you ever experienced something too painful to talk about?  Have you ever felt that way?  Well, I’m feeling it now.

I’ve never experienced anything I couldn’t share in my blog before.  This is a first.  The first time I don’t want to share something to my most reliable confidante.

It has to do with my business of course, what else?  I’m at the point where nothing else matters, all else is trivial – I have bigger problems, you know?  Bigger fish to fry.  I don’t give a shit about anyone’s else’s shit.

Something happened two days ago that holds the power of closing my doors for good.

I’m not kidding when I tell you this but, the business has been kicking ass lately.  Clients are loving us, we’re fully booked with tons of happy return visits.  I taken care of my financial situation to the point where I’m saving $3000 a month with cut-backs.

I’m not joking, but not even a week later after making these cut-backs did my business suffer an entirely different circumstance.  I was just starting to relax and enjoy myself when a new unrelated bomb dropped.

It’s already 12:30 am.  I better rest up.  Tomorrow I have four clients lined up back to back early in the morning and then I have to go to the police station after.  Yes, the police station.  I told you it was bad.

You know how I wrote about when I feel like I’m not in control of a situation I tend to bury my head?  And I like to hold my breath and wait until everything passes?  Well, it’s like that.  I have zero control over this situation.

But I also felt the same way during my financial crisis and I managed to get that under control.  Is that what I’m supposed to do here?  Finagle my way out of everything?

What the hell am I supposed to do?  I mean, as far as evolving myself, getting stronger and gaining more courage, what do I need to do?  What’s the purpose of this?

God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.

What the hell God, really?

I can handle a lot.  I mean, I fully believe that I can handle anything and everything.  But just because I feel that way, doesn’t give god the right to bombard me week after week, year after year.

Ayahuasca – “There is no god, only you.”

But you told me there is a god!

Ayahuasca – “Yes, there is a god.”

Goddamned ayahuasca…..

I’m glad I’m stupid at least.  I’ll always have that stupid annoying laugh and dolphin grin on my face.  I’ll take it to the grave if I have to.

What can I learn from this though?  What can I possibly learn that I haven’t learned already?  Trust?  Letting go?

It’s always about trust and letting go.  That’s the whole point of courage and strength, to allow ourselves to trust and to let go.

We can’t evolve otherwise and as I stated many times before, it’s the only point of us being here.  So trust and letting go are pretty damn fucking big deals.


I just felt a wave of love wash over me.  Somewhere in the wave, it told me I should believe in myself.  To stop worrying about the future but to take appropriate action at the same time.

This is so weird.  So super weird.

It’s all about making a choice.  To do or die.  It’s about believing in yourself wholeheartedly.

But when it’s out of my hands how can I……

Rational Brain – “But but but….there will always be a but.  Stop that.”

Trust, just trust.  And believe.  I can’t have my head buried in the sand for this trial (which may result in a real litigation trial).

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The 48 Laws of Power

Should be called The 48 Laws of a sociopath.  It’s the antithesis to the Power of Now.

This book tells you how to manipulate, con, betray, and gain power.  There’s no such thing as a trusted friend in the real world and playing games with a person is the best way to obtain their heart (power).

It tells you that all great people waiver and when they do, that’s the time to swoop in and knock them off their throne.

Always hide your true intentions.  Boast about your goals but have them be false goals so nobody can predict your next move.

This is a handbook for bad guys.

I’m only on Law 4, Always say less than necessary.

I just googled The 48 Laws of Power reviews and Meeb from Amazon summarized each law:

1. Kiss the boss’s ass.
2. Make enemies, because you learn from them.
3. Hide your intentions.
4. Speak cryptically.
5. Guard your reputation; destroy those who undermine it.
6. Be an attention-seeker.
7. Use other people to do things for you and take the credit.
8. Bait people.
9. Don’t analyze, act (the motto of fascism).
10. People who are hurt are like infectious parasites.
11. Make people depend on you.
12. Be “selectively honest”, disarm your “victim” with generosity.
13. People have no sense of mercy or thankfulness.
14. Pretend to be someone’s friend while gathering information on them.
15. Destroy people, annihilate them. Ruin their lives.
16. Play hookie to make people “want” you.
17. Interpersonal Terrorism
18. Be one in the crowd, use the crowd to shield you from your enemies.
19. Don’t screw over the wrong person.
20. Be non-commital.
21. Pretend to be dumb, so they won’t suspect.
22. Surrender, to stab your enemy in the back.
23. Use every resource you have to defeat an enemy.
24. Flatter people, yield to your boss, and be cruel to those under you.
25. Don’t abide by the social contract. Ally yourself only to your self. Redefine this self to get as much attention as possible.
26. Keep your hands clean- erase any knowledge others have of you messing things up. Never admit to your mistakes. Instead, scapegoat other people.
27. Develop a God complex. Feed people what they want to hear and make them follow you.
28. Be bold in all of your actions.
29. Plan out every little thing.
30. Make your accomplishments seem effortless. Also, never let anyone know how you did them.
31. Control people’s options.
32. Feed people the lies they want to hear.
33. Find out everyone’s button, save this information, and push it accordingly.
34. Act like a member of royalty.
35. Master timing.
36. Show contempt for things (and people) you cannot have. By showing you are upset, you are admitting “weakness”.
37. Create a lot of spectacles.
38. Behave like other people as a mask.
39. Use other people’s emotions; play with them.
40. Free things are dangerous. Instead, pay for everything yourself and make sure people see it.
41. Don’t follow in anyone’s footsteps.
42. Attack someone that bothers you. Don’t bother negotiating or understanding them. Just attack them so they shut up and your reputation remains intact.
43. Seduce people by playing with their emotions.
44. Mirror people so they get annoyed and humiliated.
45. Preach “change” and other vague promises, but never act too much on them.
46. Pretend to mess up once in a while. People will see that you’re not a sociopath after all.
47. Achieve in moderation.
48. Be formless. Form, order, routine= predictability. And those CIA guys following you over your shoulder all this time will spot that and destroy you.

I bought this book on Audible last night when I was searching for a book about voodoo or black magic (out of desperation for my business) to read.  This book popped up and got stellar reviews, so how could I not be interested?  I love itemized lists.

I had no idea what I was really buying.  First chapter in and I was like, furrealz?

I already wrote about every one of these damn laws.  It’s like I’m reading a book about why I hate people.

I’m interested in Law 48 though, Assume Formlessness.  That’s not our natural inclination and goes beyond ego.  I’m curious to hear his take on it.

Seriously though, he nails us perfectly.  From what I can tell, he’s spot on when it comes to describing why we do what we do.  It just sucks, you know?  It especially sucks that I’ve done many of these laws myself.  Law 27?  Um, yes I’m God!  Purposely act stupid around people with more power?  Yeah, I totally do that too.  I can’t wait to read Law 20 – that’s a major one for me.

He said “innocent” people are the best manipulators because nobody suspects them.  I figured this one out way back in high school and wondered if I would still get away with it as an adult.  But I’ve been doing it for so long now that it’s part of my identity.  I’m “innocent” because I’m a master manipulator, not because I’m stupid (see last post).


I just got back from my cousins wedding.  Good times.

But I’m tired now.  I spent the whole day feeling wonderful because  I’m diligently working on a plan to save my business and last night I dreamt that I was wealthy.

I’m keeping a separate blog post about the status of my business and will post the whole thing after my plan takes effect (around late October I’ll post it).  I no longer want to write anything negative about it.

Night is usually my favorite time of day.  But when I get real tired, my mind goes to the bad place.  The place of worry.  It’s so strange to see it do that.  I mean, I was completely fine today – no sucking sounds following me around (see last post), but as soon as I’m tired, boom, catastrophe.  It amazes me, it really does.  How easily my mentality can shift like that.

I have to start going to sleep before I get tired.  This gnawing is agony, trust me.

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I’m thinking about changing my name to MelAnus.  It’s close enough to Melanie so my parents won’t care too much.  And once it’s changed, I’ll switch the name of my blog to MelAnus Discharge.  Pretty cool, huh?  Thought of it meself.  Actually thought of it as I was typing it.

Because, well, let’s be honest here.  What I spew into my blog is no different then relaxing my bowels but man I tell you what, I enjoy both.

Enough small talk, I wanted to share with you my epiphany I had earlier.

I thought long and hard (while relaxing my bowels) about my curious “innocent” nature and it has nothing to do with me trying to cover up a demon – I love my demon actually, and recently wrote about him.

Cool guy.

No, I’m not actually innocent.  I’m stupid!  People mistake my stupidity for innocence which only means that those people are just as stupid as I am.

I’m glad I got that off my chest.  Acknowledging and accepting my stupidity makes me feel closer to inching my way onto one of the more specialized secular branches of the category tree.  I have fellow brothers and sisters who will laugh beside me and hold my hand – I am not alone.

And maybe I am fearless, but it’s only because I’m stupid – I don’t think, only do.  MelAnus do do.  It all makes sense now.

It makes me feel so much better by knowing myself.  Like finally getting a diagnosis for a horrendous rash on your genitals.  The itch will now stop.

So yes, I am playing spa owner.  Not because I want to enrich the lives in my community, but because I want to be rich and not have to work.

Okay, other than that, last night I hit my peak of fear and today I woke up bright-eyed and chipper thanks to my buoyant nature or what some like to call, being bi-polor.

Why was I at the height of my fear?  Have you ever owned a business?

Let me break it down for you, when your business starts siphoning money from an already depleted well, you’re going to hear a sucking sound.  And that sucking sound will follow you around everywhere you go.  Every thought that you have, every loose dollar you spend.

“I think I’ll get a dunkin iced coffee today!  Oh wait….”  Suck suck suck.  Your chest caves in.

You may not believe me, but it’s like going through a bad breakup, or a divorce – your heart smolders in satanic ashes, you breathe like you only have a quarter of your lung capacity left.

Nothing else matters.  All else is nonsense.

You basically lose yourself.  You lose yourself to the environment that you placed yourself in.

When you lose yourself, there is no joy there.  But on the flip side, others may feel that when they “lose” themselves, they’re free.  They’re at their happiest.  But they haven’t actually lost themselves per se, no, they found themselves.

As a proud member of the Stupid category, I’m adequately happy pretty much all of the time.  I let loose and I’m able to be myself – I’m not one that gives a fuck (just watch me dance).  What I’m trying to say is that I found out who I was a very long time ago but the seriousness of the world sucked it out.

It made me feel insecure, unsafe, unwanted.  I’m not “professional” or “responsible” is what I hear.  The world can do that people.  To just about everyone.

And now with my business hanging on the brink, it pushes me further away.

When you’re being yourself, you live in the moment.  I know this for a fact and not just by listening to the Power of Now but I’ve lived this way for years!  That is, before I started to “grow up”.

Everyone’s got it wrong.  Don’t ever grow up.

I’m a believer in choice.  Ayahuasca told me there is ALWAYS a choice.  And with this belief, comes answers.  Where there’s a choice, there is always an answer.

I woke up today happy because I remembered that there’s always an answer.  You only have to believe and do everything it takes and I mean everything.

Shit takes its toll.  Worse than going in circles over the GW bridge (which is one of my humiliating traditions).

When you see the answer, bam, you’re back to your normal self.  But sometimes you see your answer and it doesn’t register right away.  It may take a while until you fully see it.

“No no that’s too outlandish, it will never work.”  Then you sit on it for a while and you wake up one day and say, “That’s it!  Why have I waited so long?!”

Perhaps you have to be your normal self in order to see your unique answer?

What is my normal self?  Well, I forgot for a long time who I was until I recently remembered that I’m part stupid.

How do you know who your normal self is?

Okay, I figured out how to do this and I’m sure it’s different for everyone so I made it into a one question quiz.  For me personally, the answer was stupidity – this answer frees me.  For you it might be something completely different.

Okay, here’s the first and only question:  What are you most afraid of?

And I don’t mean bears or zombies, no, I mean, what are you afraid of being?  Right at this very moment?

This is a tricky question because I don’t want you to get confused with consequences or end result answers like, “I’m afraid of being alone.”

Being alone is an end result answer, not a present moment way of being.  Or, “I’m afraid of living with regrets” , “I’m afraid of being poor”,”I’m afraid of not being a good provider.”

Those are all end result stuff, future stuff.  I mean your quirks, your secret personality defects, your flaws – the really good stuff.

By finding out exactly what you’re afraid of being and then committing yourself to becoming what you’re afraid of then guess what happens?  The fear of it completely dissolves and what you’re left with is your pure untainted identity.

By accepting my stupidity and sharing it with others, I’m completely free.

When I smoke pot around people, depending on who I’m with, I can see these types of fears in others.  I can see how it holds people back, causes them to manipulate, get offended, skirt the truth – I see it!

The way out is in.  It’s to embrace.  If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to trust me on it.

Rational Brain – “What about rapists, pedophiles, or people with an urge to kill?  You want them to embrace their weaknesses?”

That’s not who they really are, it’s more like a compulsion they have, or a need.  Like smoking cigarettes or doing drugs, it satisfies a craving.  It’s a brain problem.

Rational Brain – “You have a bullshit answer for everything, don’t you?”

It’s not bullshit, I read an article.  It’s actually really sad.

But anyway, that’s how you find yourself.  By finding out what you’re afraid of being and becoming it by choice.  If you don’t do it by choice, it will happen without your choice and I promise you it WILL happen.

And if you do this correctly, you don’t actually become your fear.  You eliminate it.  And by eliminating it, nothing holds you back anymore.  You’d be fully present and I’d be able to smoke pot around you.

I guess it’s hard to explain.

It’s 1AM and I told myself I was going to exercise tomorrow before work.  I have to friggin sleep.

Before I go, I just want to say that I don’t think I’ll be blogging for a while.  At least, not until I whip my business back into shape.  I just hate writing the same morose things over and over again.  I hate whining.

You want to hear something disgusting?  I saved my dental floss!  I flossed my teeth with it and put it aside for next time.  Where is it?  Oh, I think it’s on the floor now.  Okay, I’ll throw it out.  But I just wanted to demonstrate to you just how much in the dog house I am.

MelAnus weeps.

My mom today gave me toothpaste, toilet paper, shampoo, and socks.

Me – “Thank you for these gifts!”

And I really REALLY meant it.

“I won’t have to darn my socks this winter!”

I can’t believe I wrote so much.  All I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to take a break from writing for a while.

To wrap things up, I just want to reiterate that living in the present moment requires you to eliminate all fear.  Eckhart Tolle, in his book The Power of Now, tells you to live presently and your fears will wash away by themselves, but I like my way better.  My way of confronting your fear is better.  If you don’t confront it, you’ll have no awareness of it and soon enough you’ll become that what you hate most.

My brain works swiftly when I’m in the present.  I’m less jumpy and I feel smarter.  Almost impenetrable, like nobody has any negative affect on me whatsoever.

I miss that feeling.

How do I get it back?  Two ways in conjunction:  By remembering there is always a choice and because a choice exists, I will find an answer.  And secondly, by embracing what it is I’m afraid to be.

MelAnus is done discharging for tonight.

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I just watched Insurgent, the second book in the trilogy and now I’m re-watching Divergent, the first book.  I watched it in the theater with my niece when it first came out so it’s like watching it for the first time.  It’s one of the perks of having the memory of a goldfish.

But I’m being completely, 100% honest when I say that I can’t find my category.  I can’t find my stereotype, my place.  I’m not even a full fledged geek, not a rebel or a drunk, definitely not a saint or scholar, opposite of marriage and/or baby making material.

Just what the hell am I?

Since I was a kid, I started seeing similarities in people.  I noticed that two people of no relation, never met one another, can have such striking similarities that leave me dumbstruck.

“How can this be?  Aren’t we all different?”

Stereotyping is a real thing and it’s okay to do so long as you don’t factor in skin color, race, religion – superficial stuff like that.  If you look beyond the exterior, that’s where you’ll find insane similarities in people from opposite backgrounds and cultures.  It’s not exactly stereotyping, but similar in the sense of categorizing people.

Okay, culture does factor in a bit and so does skin color, race and religion – but only if the person in question identifies with their superficial exterior.  As long as their identity is linked with their environment, they will become a product of it.  Not only will they become a product of it, but they’ll judge others on their superficial differences since they learned how to do it on themselves.

But….Sometimes environment doesn’t change a person and when that happens, the categories branch off into smaller sects – more defined personalities, less blind faith, more knowing.  Less grasping and more taking.  Less losing and more giving.  More choices.

The smaller sects are the people who interest me and if you take a person out of their element and thrust them into the unknown, you start to see them branching into one of the smaller rungs of a more competent nature.  I.e. , they learn more of who or what they are.

Perhaps that’s why astrology was invented – to explain why we all fit snuggly into categories.  Vata, Pita, and what’s the other one?  Kapha?  Those were invented too but as a way to assess and treat medical conditions.

I’ve only met one or two people in my day that I can say for certain are my kin.   We’re alike, but not totally.  Not really….Okay, maybe not for certain.

What I wouldn’t give to meet another me.  I’m like nobody I’ve ever met before and yet (truthfully), I can somehow relate to everyone.  I can find aspects of myself in just about everyone I meet.

I already did this with each of my employee’s.  It’s megalomanic of me to say, but they each represent a part of me.  Even Laurie, the girl I got rid of – she encompassed some of my worst qualities.

There are just so many Me’s!  So many perspectives, so many minute experiences that my mind grinds down into sand and throws back into sea.  A torrential, never-ending thread of thought and feeling.

How can I NOT write?  How can I not keep lists?

I loathe narcissists.  I don’t know why, but I hate them.  I’m well aware of hate being a strong word.  And here I am writing a post that would indubitably make me hate myself.

Indubitably…..who used to say that?  A cartoon character from the 80’s with a mustache and monocle?

I get inspired easily and Divergent is just one of those stories that does it to me.  Excuse my self-love for tonight, it’s a temporary fixture.

I was laying on my back while my employee practiced giving me a scalp massage and I started laughing – “I feel like we’re all playing together.  Like we’re playing spa.”

My employee laughs.

“I always felt that way since I opened.  It feels like I’m playing at being a spa owner.”

Employee – She laughs and says, “you’re so…. innocent.”

Innocent… my “innocence” an innocuous way of me hiding something more sinister?

That thought grazed my mind after she said that.  What if my “playing” is a ruse, even to me?  Intended to mask my inner demon?

My friend the other day slipped me a polished rock with the word “FEARLESS” etched into it.  She slid it into the pocket of my hoodie when we were walking back to my car.  I dug around for it, pulled it out and smiled at her.

But if my “innocence” really is a perfunctory attempt to hide what’s really inside, so much so that I can be seen and categorized under “innocent”, that only means I have more fear than your average deer (in headlights).

Innocence plus fearlessness equals early doom.  But I’m pretty sure my innocence is a ruse, and my fearlessness is mistaken for pigheadedness.

I have much to learn and much to let go of.  I sometimes wish people would question the words coming out of my mouth.

“Yeah right, you’re full of shit.”

Yes I am!  Thank you!

Or maybe I’m just bored and reading too much into things.  I’m transfixing and I have a headache.

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Filed under journal, random thoughts

What to Do What to do

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

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

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

Here’s a list of Japanese words I learned:

Sigoy – Awesome

Itadakimasu – let’s eat

Kaza – Mother

Doza – Father

jawnney – see you later

Yadayada – God help us

Hello – Kinichiwa

Thank you – Arigoto

Sorry – Komenesai

Good Morning – Ohio

Stupid – Baka

Don’t you know – dattebayo

Nanee – What?!

(Spelling doesn’t count)

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

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

“There, that’s better.”

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

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

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

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

2)  My book

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think you’d be a good protagonist?

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

I’m glad you can laugh at yourself.

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

Oh god, my protagonist already hates me…..

Frankie – “You called me ugly!”

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

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

You’re not really stupid, are you?

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

Shut up before I give you a Mike Tyson Lisp.

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

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

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

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

Frankie – “How do you think the unthinkable?”


Frankie – “With an itheburg!”

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

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


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


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

Where’s the plot though?

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

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

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

My mind is fully scrambled.

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Filed under All about me, humor, journal

Knowing Demon Mel

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

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

Rational Brain – “You rang?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is no you, only desires.

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

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


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

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

Everything coincides.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hence, it goes around in circles.

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Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help

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

other side of fear


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

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

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

I’ve gotten a shit ton of sleep.

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

How depressing.

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

EVERYTHING annoys you.

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

And I’m loving my day off from clients.

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


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

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

Mmmm….garlic bread.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s always darkest before the dawn they say.

But good lord the helplessness I felt!

Here’s why:

1) I’m getting fat

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

3) My car is also a mess

4) My debt has never been greater

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

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

7) Groupon lowered the price of our single massages

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

9) I’m still massaging people

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mmmm so good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

I should shower dammit.  Hold on.


It’s now the next day.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

I feel renewed happiness.

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




Filed under journal, philosophy, Self help

What the hell do I call this?

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


Click the pic to see inside!

I feel that a floating city is more my style.


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


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

Anti Massage Envy activists should not be underestimated.

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

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


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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crazy unconscious associations.

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

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

Or maybe I’m making more irrational associations?

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

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

No, I like the Buddha’s saying better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s also up my ass constantly.

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

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

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

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

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

I hate ultimatums.

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

Real friends accept you, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Annoying.  Annoying annoying!

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

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

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

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

“No!  Go away!”

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

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

I keep six honest…

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

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

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

-Rudyard Kipling

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


Filed under journal, rant, Self help, Writing