Category Archives: rant

What the hell do I call this?

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

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Click the pic to see inside!

I feel that a floating city is more my style.

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

THEN WHY THE HELL IS SHE APPLYING HERE?

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

Anti Massage Envy activists should not be underestimated.

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

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

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

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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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crazy unconscious associations.

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

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

Or maybe I’m making more irrational associations?

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

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

No, I like the Buddha’s saying better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s also up my ass constantly.

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

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

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

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

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

I hate ultimatums.

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

Real friends accept you, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Annoying.  Annoying annoying!

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

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

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

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

“No!  Go away!”

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

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

I keep six honest…

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

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

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

-Rudyard Kipling

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

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Advice From My Blog

My neighbor tonight, a girl who’s a friend of a friend, wanted to give me advice;

My neighbor – “If you’re depressed, you’re living in the past, but if you’re anxious, you’re living in the future….”

Etc, ect…

She basically gave me the same advice I written about in my last post (or the post before that?  I don’t remember).

It’s not a coincidence.

People take shit from my blog and they spread it around without telling people where they got it from.  That’s from me!!!  Not me, but Eckhart Tolle!

No big deal, I know.  No big deal at all but the thing is……who the hell is still reading my blog?  And who is regurgitating my advice (Eckhart’s advice)?

It’s just weird, I mean, it’s super strange.  It’s strange for several reasons, I’ll start with the first:

“S” (keeping anonymity) is someone who see’s me as a goofy dip-shit.  She has absolutely no clue as to who I am.  She’s on a completely different level than me with having kids, a husband, a house, a full time career….

I’m basically a child to her.  She see’s me as a child.

And then she gives me advice from my own damn blog which someone else lifted, ahhhhh!!!!

Supposedly my friends don’t read this anymore, but tonight after hearing that advice from “S”, there are several people who could have regurgitated it to her, I just don’t know who.

Okay, I’m being childish right now, yes, but I guess it’s one of those things you’d have to experience to understand.

The thing is, the people who could have regurgitated my blog are the same people who don’t speak to me anymore.  The ex-friends.  I think that’s partly (if not all) why I’m making a stink about it.

So, the people who ostracized me are still reading my blog, but not only that, they are spreading my wisdom (Eckhart’s wisdom) off as their own, only to have it fed back to me in our social loop.

It kinda pisses me off.

But anyway, I wanted to say “Where did you hear that?  I just written that exact same thing in my blog a few days ago.”

But I didn’t…..Why didn’t I?

Any mention of my blog is off limits.  I made a rule.  I shan’t tell anybody about my blog (period).

Not only that but, I don’t know what it is…….Am I too proud?  Am I stubborn?  Do I still have some sort of loyalty towards the people who outcast me?

And she was so proud of her advice, so why ruin it?

I’m super tired.  I literally can’t keep my eyes open.

 

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June 1st is when it’s at

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hate waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Melanie’s black cloud day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And thus, I’m freaking out.

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

And yes, it makes no sense.

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

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

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

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

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

Me – “Um, sort of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s not my normal world.

 

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And the saga continues….

Om num sha body Om num sha body Om num sha body……

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You know that feeling just before your heart gets ripped from your chest?  When a big sweaty Indian man with crazed eyes sticks his hand in your chest (without sterilizing it first) and pulls out your still beating heart so it can burst into flames before your very eyes?

You know that feeling?

Well, I’m feeling it now.  Right at this very moment.  My eyes are wide with fright.

I just hired not one esthetician, but two.  TWO!!!  To do micro-current facials.  I interviewed both of them today, one right after the other and I liked them both.

Shit shit shit.

I must pray.  Do you have any idea how expensive employee’s are?  They’re freaking expensive, that’s how much they are.  Did you know a butt-load is an actual number?  I’m serious.  Butt is a unit of load.  Look it up.

But these girls do it all….Waxing, scrubs, LED light therapy, body wraps – both being experts in the field and placed in top managerial positions at their previous jobs.  I can easily see manager written all of them.

Thank the lord but OM NUM SHA BODY is my chant for this evening.  Every time my mind wonders to something different, but then remembers – I’ll be chanting OM NUM SHA BODY all day today, and possibly into next month and the month after that.

I’m laying in bed.  I just got home a little while ago.  Should I sleep?  I’m already lying here and in my pajama’s…..

OM NUM SHA BODY

Shit shit shit please oh please god.

I hope it works.  I shall part the heavens with my prayer.  I bought a Jesus bobble head for my car the other day and my mother blessed it with holy water.  I’m going to sleep with it tonight.

I’m not religious in the least but when a person is dying, that’s when they pray.  And since I’m having my heart ripped from my chest cavity and all…..

Why don’t they have stuffed Jesus dolls?  Or Jesus action figures like GI Joe, only have it be GI Jesus?  With his 12 disciples, lamb and myrrh accessories.  The Jesus doll can cry holy water and excrete concentrated evil out his bum.  Jesus Pocket instead of Polly Pocket.  Jesus in a barrel instead of monkeys in a barrel.

Okay, so here’s my plan:

1)  Get these girls on the schedule

2)  Announce micro-current facials to my 2,000 clients

3)  Sell 40 more memberships

4)  Rent the two empty rooms upstairs

5)  Hire more massage therapists

6)  Take myself off the schedule so I only work one day a week (maybe two).

And by the summer I’ll be cruising across the country on my motorcycle.

The question is, can this be done?  Can I seriously do this?  By the summer?  Without losing EVERYTHING in the process?!

I written down a few awesome philosophical debates for me and my rational brain to discuss, but I don’t have the capacity for it now.

Rational brain – “……….”

Yes that’s right.  Stay silent.

I wonder if there’s anything to eat upstairs…

temple

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Chirashi Sushi

“I’m majorly craving sushi today.  I’m famished!”

Rational Brain – “See if anyone wants Sushi House after work.”

“Yes!  Sushi House!  All you can eat you cannot beat!”

Rational Brain – “You can even offer to pay for everyone.  You had a really good month and should spread the joy.”

“Absolutely!”

I pick up my phone and ready myself to text.

Rational Brain – “But since you have the means to pay for someone else’s dinner, why don’t you just buy yourself two dinners and get take-out?  That way you can play your video game.”

“That sounds…..WONDERFUL!”

And that’s how I ordered and ate two chirashi sushi dinners.  Two soups & two salads also.  Why did I order two of the same meal you ask?  My email, chirashigirl at yahoo, is no accident.

I started wondering if maybe I might have a problem.  Not an eating problem, I still manage to stay trim somehow.  But a different kind of problem.

The best way to figure out if you have a problem is to see yourself from an outsiders perspective.  The outsiders perspective I chose was that of a parent – a mother.  “How would I feel if I had a daughter just like me?”

I went on an imaginary online forum for mothers complaining about their kids and wrote this:

Mom – “My daughter, Melanie, might have a problem.  She’s 35 years old, still lives with us, and she spends most of her time playing video games.  She has free time now that her business is doing so well, and she can spend days at a time in her pajama’s never leaving the house.  I’m worried about her isolation.”

Commenter – “Does she have any goals or hobbies?”

Mom – “She has too many goals if you ask me.  But once she sets her mind on something, she always follows through.  Right now she’s working on building up her client base so she can go cross-country on a motorcycle, take me and her father to Italy, and eventually buy a house.”

Commenter – “Does she seem like she’s happy playing video games and being in her pajama’s all day?”

Mom – “I’ve never seen her this happy.  That’s why I’m worried.  Is it normal?  She has no interest in getting married, having kids or even dating.”

Commenter – “Does she have friends?”

Mom – “I think so.  She wanted to go out to eat the other day with a friend but she got take-out instead.  Her reasoning was that she can get two dinners for herself instead of offering to pay for her friends meal.  And she gets to stay home in her pajama’s and play video games.”

Commenter – “So you’re telling me that your daughter is completely happy and content, has viable goals that she’s achieving, likes to travel, is self-sufficient, get’s to do NOTHING all day if she wants, and you’re worried why?”

Mom – “Um, okay never mind then.”

My only problem is that I’m selfish.  I wanted to address this issue by volunteering at a shelter or food place.  So I went on the website, Meals on Wheels, and discovered that one of the requirements to volunteer is that you have to be 55 or older.

I gave up and closed the lid of my laptop.

After writing my last post about casting the Patronus spell to get rid of dementors, I broke through into a bi-polar high.

If you can’t tell, I’m a little high on myself right now.  It’s subtle, but I assure you, it’s there.

It’s all about asking the right questions and to avoid at all costs, seeing no hope in any situation.

Whatever solution you may find yourself with will need one of two things:  Courage or faith.

If you have faith in a plan that can’t lose, you don’t need courage.  But if your faith is faulty, that’s when you’ll need courage.

And if you need courage, that often foretells that you’ll just have to plan more.  But this is where our evolutionary process occurs – by taking action using courage alone.  This is where we find choice – you find your power.

Rational Brain – “Why in the hell did you start writing a post like this at 1:30 in the morning?  You knew it was going to be a transfixed philosophical ramble that gives you insomnia!”

I had no idea I swear!  I was just going to write about my chirashi dinner episode because I thought it was funny.  Look, I even named this post after it!

Rational Brain – “Yeah right.  Anyway, take me through your thought process on this.  How does courage give you choice?”

You’ll have to use your emotional side of the brain for this because words can’t grasp what I’m about to say.  You’ll have to take a minute to feel it.

Rational Brain – “Ooooh-kay….how can I feel what you’re saying?”

Have you ever been so angry that you snapped?  A choice was made to hurt the person offending you.  You snapped and wanted that other person to feel the pain they caused you.  Have you ever felt that?

Rational Brain – “You know I have.  At least 3 or 4 times in my life.”

It’s like that, only non-violent.  When you make a choice that your heart is fused with, it’s undeniable action – you have to do something to avoid yourself further pain.  You start seeing your choice.  It’s like lifting the veil.  You feel your power, your own potential.  You take action without a plan because courage was thrust upon you.

Another way to help you emotionally connect with my words is that old saying “there is no try, only do.”  That saying always struck home for me personally.

Choice, in essence, IS action.  Taking action is the same as making a choice.  They are the same thing.  They happen simultaneously.  You can’t ask me to explain it, it’s one of those old truths that feels ruthlessly correct without explanation or rationalization.  It’s the same kind of truth ayahuasca taught me.

But this is where things get weird…..

Once the action has started, once it has moved, things start happening without your influence.  I’ve seen it happen time and time again.

My latest choice was to move out of my parents house as soon as humanly possible.  I was going to wait until I paid off my debt and saved a little for a down payment on a house, but I HAD to get out.  I was at the breaking point I mentioned earlier.

It’s all to do with my crazy aunt and OCD cousin who live with us.

There was a tremendous blow-out at my house a few days ago because my cousin was running the water…..again.  Our bathroom sink downstairs (where my boisterous temperamental brother and his girlfriend reside) clogged and as OCD cousin ran the water in the upstairs bathroom, it rose quickly up the drain and splashed onto the floor in our bathroom below him.

My brother was telling OCD cousin to stop running the water, but he wouldn’t stop.  If you knew my brother, this situation got ugly fast.  That’s to say the absolute least.  My bro was at his limit.

Basically without getting into too much detail, my aunt screamed that she was calling the cops – several times she screamed it but never called for fear it would be her son taken away.

OCD cousin…..OMG….OCD cousin, I’ve never heard a grown man squeal like that – literally squeal in a such an ear piercing manner like a child.  It sounded – no joke – like he had murderous rage.  I’ve never heard murderous rage from anybody before, but that was it.  Definitely it.

The only time I came out of my bedroom was to assess the damage done to our bathroom and help my dad and my brothers girlfriend clean it up.  I came out one other time to calm down my brothers girlfriend who was getting an onslaught of insults thrown at her from my crazy aunt.

Me – “Don’t respond to her.  You can’t reason with crazy and it’ll only make you crazy for trying.”

She was shaking with anger.

Me and my brother, and possibly my dad, know that OCD cousin is capable of evil things.  I say this as honestly as I can – the dude would kill us.  All of us.  Most likely in our sleep.

And we actually KNOW this!  For real for real!

My brother – “You better lock your door tonight.”

My brother and his girlfriend braved the snow storm and moved out that night.  That’s when I realized I needed to get out of dodge too.  My heart was set and I started looking at apartments.

Anyway, long story long, my crazy aunt and OCD cousin left here and my brother is back living with us again.

Crazy aunt and OCD cousin are staying with my Aunt Rosemary for the time being.  I don’t know how that happened, only that they are gone.

I’ve never been happier.  I mean, I’m falling off my rocker with joy!  Not only by them leaving, but my business had a REALLY good month.  I have four days left of February so I’ll write a post March 1st on how it did.

You must think I’m horrible for turning family away, so I’ll tell you two of my cousins latest freak-outs:  He made my 70 year old mother leave the house at night in the bitter cold to buy him lemonade, and he shit his pants and got his shitty pants all over the bathroom floor.  He didn’t even clean it up.

And that’s just TWO of his latest antics, before causing a landslide in our bathroom downstairs and squealing murderous rage at my brother.  Not to mention he can fill a swimming pool in one weekend with how much water he wastes.

Anyway, I stopped writing about them because I couldn’t find a solution to my problem (being them).  I don’t complain when there’s no solution.  And the reason why NONE of us should complain when there is no solution is because it’s your own damn fault.  It was my fault for living here.  But alas, the energy has moved, a choice made, and things started happening in my favor without my influence – without doing anything really, just deciding.

Them leaving is a better option than me having to move out.  I pay $1,000 a month towards my debt, it would never get paid if I moved out now.

Ayahuasca told me that there is always a choice.

Me – “How do I get to choose?”

Ayahuasca – “With faith.”

Me – “How do I get faith?”

Ayahuasca – “With courage.”

Me – “But how do I find the courage?”

Ayahuasca – “Through suffering.”

I’m sensitive to the extreme, I can be weak, easily hurt.  I don’t know how or why, but it’s my fragile nature and my weakness that makes me strong.  It’s like, I have something to live for, you know?  It’s hard to explain.  If I didn’t feel what I feel, I wouldn’t do what I do.

I still want to write about how asking questions is tied in with awareness, but it’s too late for that.

Rational Brain – “Another night perhaps.”

Yes, another night.

I still need to write about Thailand…

 

 

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How to get out of a dump funk

Whenever I ask myself a question, it’s as though no other thoughts infiltrate my head other than the probable answers.  My focal point is set and all else falls away.

Rational Brain – “And what question is on your mind tonight might I ask?”

No questions.  I’m just mulling this fact over in my head.  I mean, one question and nothing else seems to matter except for that one question.

I had a bipolar day today.  I can’t remember my last bipolar episode before today.  I’d forgotten what they feel like.

It feels like someone sits on my chest making it impossible for me to breathe.  I feel listless, without happiness.  Like a Harry Potter dementor came to pay me a visit.  It’s quite literally a physical sensation.  Only one who experienced deep sadness can tell you about it.  Your heart physically aches.  How was I able to forget that?

All because of my impending birthday coming up on stupid Valentines day.  I remembered it’s this coming Saturday.  Last night I remembered and last night was when it started – the polar shift in my icecaps.  I woke up today with a big fatty of a dementor hanging over my head, washing away all the nice dreams I had.

Then I started worrying about my business and how I’ll never make any money with it.  All my thoughts were void of question.  My thoughts were inarguable statements without choice.

That’s what dementors do.  They rob you of your questions.  Without questions, you lose your focal point, your purpose.  And something else takes the reins – fear.

It’s so odd coming to this realization.  It’s particularly odd for me since I don’t like to complain about anything until I find a solution first.  First a solution, than I can complain all I want about the thing that once made my life hell.  I complain with a light heart – one that I’m fully in control of.  But I slip up at times and unwittingly complain in my internal grumblings.

My friend told me the other day that I’m the most emotionally stable person she knows.

It baffles me because if I’m so emotionally stable, then why am I still up at 5:30 in the morning unable to sleep?  Writing about dementors and how I feel like I have a man sitting on my chest?

If I’m considered stable, I don’t want to know what other people think about.  It’s also kind of funny how nobody really know’s anyone.

I’m up because I’m excited about my new discovery that asking the right question is like casting the most powerful patronus charm against all dementors.  I had to look up patronus charm and Google miraculously knew my question before it was asked.

Screen Shot 2015-02-12 at 5.19.17 AM

That’s crazy.

Here’s a question for you…..are we more apt to be sad in these futuristic times when answers are given to us before we can type them into a search engine?  Since answers are ample on the net, forums and blogs abound, are we less inclined to seek out a more personal take on things?

In other words, do we stop asking questions because the answers are already there for us?  We only have to open a book, or more conveniently, a laptop.

We are taught from baby-hood to listen to those who know better – and those people who know better just so happen to be anyone that’s older than us.  We’re inclined to listen more than we’re inclined to think.  It’s what we’re taught.  Lucky for me, thanks to my mother, I learned how to NOT listen to adults.

My mom is crazy and I knew from an insanely young age that I had a better gauge on reality than she did.  I owe everything to my mother, but that’s a different story.

What was I saying?  Ah yes.  According to my new insight, if we stop asking questions, the dementors will come find us.  We lose our power and source of awareness.  Awareness is found by asking questions.

Rational Brain – “That sounds insightful, can you spread your words on that?”

Okay but I won’t get too deep into it.  I’m tired.

Shit no, I can’t explain it without getting deep into it.  It’ll have to wait.  Damn the thoughts are flowing.  Damn you rational brain.

It’ll wait.  Another night.

Anywho, in other news….

I’m looking to hire another therapist to work weekends.  I can’t hack it anymore.

Another reason for my malcontent earlier today was because I had to work.  It’s Wednesday, so I only had to massage clients who requested me, but even still – it brought me down.  The moment I was done massaging them, I brightened up and the shroud lifted.

So, my impending birthday wasn’t the only weight on my chest – it was the weight of work that sent me over.

When I worked at Massage Envy, I hated it don’t get me wrong, but I buckled down and did it because I didn’t think I had a choice.  But now that I’ve grown so much and am able to finally see that I do have a choice, the dread becomes more vehement in a way.  More angry, more rebellious.  Like a teenager with a curfew who just got her drivers license.

“I don’t have to do this anymore.” Is your new focal point.  And the fact that you’re still doing it, only entices your wrath against it.  And when left without asking questions that mindfully set your focal point, can lead you to a polar shift of malcontent.

Don’t ask “Why am I still doing this?”  ask instead, “How can I stop doing this?”

Holy crap I just deleted a whole bunch of shit I just wrote.  It was work rambles.

The endings to my posts often suck the shit out of everything preceding it.

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Reality Check

Nope I’m not rich.  I was way off.  How off was I?  If rich is the Ritz Carlton, then I am a tarp.  Not even a nice tarp.  A soggy ripped tarp that’s been left behind by a homeless man who found a better tarp.

I was at a five star hotel last week ordering room service with over $15,000 in the bank – not a care in the world.  This week I’m eating mom’s leftovers and I’m down to having $8,000 in the bank.  Where did it go?  No, seriously.  Where the hell did $7,000 go?

Bills and taxes.  And my employee’s got paid three times in December as opposed to their usual two.

I’m once again at an impasse with my business.  I’m at an impasse financially but I NEED to rent the two empty rooms upstairs so I can add ashiatsu massage.  I need a reason for clients to stay members with us – I HAVE to add more options.  But it will cost thousands of dollars to do this.

I don’t know what to do.  I can wait two weeks until I bulk charge my membership clients (I charge them on the first day of every month) and see where that leaves me, or I can wait a few months until it feels safe enough to splurge.  But if I wait a few months, my members might start dwindling in numbers and I’ll never get ahead if that happens.  I’ll always break even, or worse.  Keeping members should be my priority.

Shit shit shit.

In the meantime, I got back from Thailand the day before last and I’ve been working non-stop since.  Not only that, but people want to see me.  My friends want to see me but I’m so damn exhausted that literally I can go a full 6-months in solitude without getting lonely – at least 6 months. I have so much shit to do.  I have to do my friggin’ taxes….

My favorite place, my one favorite place that I missed the most while I was away was my bed.  I want to lay in it.  I want to nap as much as a person can possibly nap and then wake up and draw a picture, then nap some more only to wake up and write an epic blog post, then eat, then sleep, and wake up as late as I want and I’ll do the same thing I did the day before only with hiking thrown in there somewhere.  I really need to exercise.

But I have all this other stuff.  Too much of it.  I can never get married, never have kids – never have so much as a boyfriend with my attitude.  It’s unfathomable.

If our actions define who we are, then what does it mean when my actions consists of shit?  Where does the shit end and I begin?  Or am I merely a shit person with shit stuff to do?  Shit actions.

My friend is calling me.  She’s been at it since I got back.  Enticing me with beer so I’d come over.  I need another vacation.  I have three more people to massage today.  NOOOOO!

I need to hire another therapist.  I need to not massage anymore.

I’m skyping Brianna, my travel buddy, at 3 o’clock today.  She misses me.  But I’m afraid she’s going to start talking about plans for our next adventure and at this point, it feels like it’ll be years until I have that opportunity again.

I just want it to be over.  Building up my business I mean.  I want it to be stable, to have it’s five massage rooms, 8 therapists (not including myself) and one esthetician, ashiatsu and micro current facials.  One receptionist who manages the place while I’m not there.  Once I have all that, I’ll be free.  Then I’ll really be rich.

I’m happy with my false alarm however.  It was a little window into what it feels like to have money.  And it made me realize that money is not evil, it’s the opposite of evil.  You can’t help people and you can’t help yourself without it.  You’ll never feel settled and you’ll always have the fear associated with bad moods and depression.

Money makes you transcend all that.  Oh and to lay in bed…..OMG to lay in bed!  Have you ever laid in bed without any cares?  It’s like a hot shower after having a month of cold ones.

I know I’m childish, but having my bed right here and not being able to lay in it is like Christmas day watching all your cousins play with your new toys while you patiently wait until they leave so you can have them all to yourself.

I need to get my uniform back on and Skype Brianna before work.

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Miserable Melanie

My crazy aunt and homoscidal cousin are back here living with us again.  My happiness lasted for about a day and a half….

Damn hard day today was.

I had to go into work early for a client I never massaged before.  He was a man with a Groupon – he bought his massage from an online deal site and if I had one of my therapists massage him, it would’ve only cost me $3.

I pay my therapists $10 when they don’t have any clients, and $13 an hour for online deal clients (I know it sounds cheap, but we’re not massaging many deal clients anymore).

So, I went into work and saved myself $3.  I resented being there – I loathed it.  I was only there because of a technical malfunction.  He was a big black man with thick dreads and he kept his shorts on so I couldn’t massage anything above the knee (because his shorts were in the way), he didn’t want to put his head in the face cradle which made it hard for me to massage his neck and shoulders – and he wanted his abdomen massaged.  His thick dreads got in the way of massaging his neck.  Basically it sucked.  He was really nice though…

When the 60-minutes were up and I told him his massage was over, he looked up at me and said, “I thought I had 90 minutes?”

I’m the one who booked the appointment and there was no mention of it being 90-minutes.

Damn.  I massaged him all over again in a half-hour.  He liked it though, so that’s what’s important.

I worked a lot this week and kept reminding myself that starting next week, my new therapist will work Tuesdays and Wednesdays for me.  I’ll be free.  I always think I’ll be free, but no matter how many therapists I got working for me, I seem to always get booked.

I went home after massaging Mr. Dreadlocks and watched some TV and tried to relax without letting my crazy aunt and cousin eat at me little by little with running water and weird OCD grunts and my aunt saying “I love you, I’ll be right there” to her 45 year old son plugging up his ears and humming to himself – no he has no mental retardation.

“I can’t do this.  I can’t do this.”  I opened my laptop to look at apartments.

“20 more members.  I need 20 more members and I can afford one.”

I started going crazy.  Members.  All I could think about were members.  I need I need, I want I want.  I started spiraling into that dark place of hopelessness.  My whole world revolving around members.

“I need to pay my debt first.  I need more members to pay off my debt.”

“I’m stuck.  I’m stuck here.”

I closed my laptop and took a deep breath and thanked the lord I was going to Thailand.  I thanked the lord for giving me 128 members.  I thanked my new therapist who’ll be taking over Tuesdays and Wednesdays for me.  Thank you thank you thank you!

I went back to work for my last two clients.  One of whom being one of my favorite people to massage.  I made a full recovery out of the spiraling darkness.  How the hell do I do that?  My resilience never ceases to amaze me – seriously!

But then I got smacked in the gut hard with a dagger of a fist.

My new therapist:  “I have to tell you something and it’s not good news, but not horrible either.”

Me:  “Are you pregnant?”

Before she responded to that, I braced myself and remembered to remain calm.  Breathe, just breathe Mel.  Is asking an employee if they’re pregnant considered sexual harassment?  Probably.

New therapist:  “No, I got offered another job with benefits at a hospital and I need to cut my hours.  I can only work Tuesdays starting on the first.”

Me:  “Oh….”

New therapist:  “I feel bad because I asked for all those new hours.”

Is that why you feel bad?  You don’t feel bad because you’re only giving me a weeks notice and I’m going to freaking Thailand in two weeks?!

I didn’t say that, but I was screaming it in my head.  On the exterior, I was calm and understanding.

No no no no oh please god no no no no.

As soon as she left, I went on the schedule and blocked her shifts off before anyone else can book with her online.  Of course she had clients booked up until Dec 22, of course.  And of course she works Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday – why wouldn’t she?  Without her here, I’ll only have one therapist working weeknights for all of December while I’m in Thailand.  And we are BUSY.  We’re actually doing phenomenal here as far as clients and money goes – this month felt like a gift from god monetary wise.  But money means nothing if clients aren’t happy.

“I have to find someone ASAP ASAP!”

I went on zip recruiter to repost my job ad, but my initiation price expired and the price they wanted went up to $100 a month.  WTF zip recruiter?

I grabbed my old pile of job applicants and sifted through them instead.

“no, no, definitely not her, eh, nah, wait who’s this?  Oh yes!  Oh please oh please god….”

I found an application from a girl who applied here in April when we first opened.  I loved her and wanted to hire her but I held back because she didn’t seem confident enough.

I rolled my chair back over to the desktop and typed her up a pleading email.  Well, not horribly pleading, but pleading enough.  I sent it.

I waited 5 minutes.  I waited 10 minutes.  I was just staring at the computer screen.

“That’s all I can do.  I can’t do anything else about it tonight so I should just go home.”

But I didn’t go home, no.  I texted her instead.  She replied with:

IMG_2127

 

And once again, I made a full recovery back into feeling fantastic.  She’s willing to put in her two weeks at her other job tomorrow.  Words can’t explain how thankful I am.

The girl who cut her hours, honestly I didn’t think much of her anyway.  She’s one of those athletic types, you know what I mean?  Running, lifting, drinking kerotine or whatever it’s called.  I don’t get it.  I’m not saying she’s a bad person, just one of those types who have absolutely nothing in common with me.  It’s always the athletic type that I have the least in common with.  It’s weird because I really like karate and I run to my car in parking lots.

The person I have the most in common with?  My 22 year old puerto rican male therapist.  I adore him!  He ran track in high school, but he did it for fun because he thought he was the fasted kid ever.  We discuss video games and how much we don’t like dating.  And he has a true bona-fide love for people just like I do.  I can see it just by the way he treats people – he really cares.  He treats old people with genuine kindness.  Not to mention he’s a goldmine as far as clients re-booking with him goes.

Male therapist:  “We’re like the same person you and me, it’s scary.”

Me:  “Ha ha, I know!”

This new girl I’m hiring, I feel like she’ll be a narcissistic supply for me, you know what I mean?  One of those people who feeds ego’s.  All my other employee’s make me feel good about myself, sure, but then you meet someone who looks up to you and they hang on your every word more so than normal.  It’s not about love, but admiration and inferiority.

When something inspires you, it’s because you want to find that same hidden gift inside yourself.  It’s not real love, but a key.  Once that lock is opened, the love for the thing that once inspired you is gone and you’re left with nothing but love for yourself.  I know this is true, trust me.

And once you’ve opened the gift inside yourself, you want to keep it by never returning the power back to its source, so you push the original owner of the key down into inferiority.  Gaining power is what happens.  Stupid ego…

This is why celebrity gossip can crush a career.  Why oceans of people can tear a person down who once stood so high.  If celebrities, politicians, or any type of leader can make a mistake, that means they’re no better than the rest of us.  All their greatness gets transferred over to the people judging them.   It’s inspiring to know that great people are no better than the rest, so we keep the offenders far below our stilettos until we get inspired by a new target that is far more superior than anyone who has ever lived in our lifetime!  And then of course, ruthlessly crush them when they fail.

Martyr’s…I guess it’s part of our evolutionary process.

Truthfully, ego-feeders annoy me because of this.  But they have no idea what’s going on, so they can’t help it.

Whenever I’m admired I always I have the thought in my head, “find your own, don’t take mine.”  Because that’s what it feels like.  It feels like taking someone else’s gold nuggets without bothering to find your own.

I end up sounding rude, impatient, or being in a generally bad mood.

It’s a good thing I don’t have many admirers.  It’s a shitty thing to be admired.

 

 

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An update on my business. You can skip this post.

The archer Legolas Greenleaf, here portrayed b...

The archer Legolas Greenleaf, here portrayed by Orlando Bloom in The Lord of the Rings film trilogy, is arguably Tolkien’s best known elf. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Oh God blog…..

I can’t seem to catch up to anything.  My thoughts, my debt, my job, my life.

I got back from Ecuador, hmmm, when did I get back?  Three days ago?  Four?  My suitcase is still laying where I left it before slipping into bed after a long two weeks.  An awesome two weeks.

I have no time to unpack just like I have no time to write.  I’m laying in filth which I call my bedroom.  

Destroyed since my brother decided to go on a cleaning spree while I was away and threw a bunch of my old stuff in my room in order to “clean” his area of the house.  A guitar, old mail, storage containers, a life-size cardboard cut-out of Legolas from Lord of the Rings (don’t ask).

I gave one of my employee’s more hours.  Two extra shifts hoping that will free up some space.  So I don’t have to work so much.  But it seems like no matter how many hours I give my employee’s, I’m still fully booked from 11-8 six days a week.  Mornings and nights, before and after work, I find myself working still.

I need one more employee.  Just one more.  To take this burden away.  But I haven’t done the math yet.  I have yet to do the math to figure out if or when I can hire another.  All the numbers are there from last month – how much I made, how much I paid, my projected income for the months ahead – it’s all there.

But instead of pouring over the numbers, I’m writing this blurb.  A blurb that tells you absolutely nothing about anything of real importance.

It’s like having a lump of upset in your throat, only it’s in the pit of my stomach.  A tightening, a sort of wrenching feeling of constipation, only I’m not constipated (I ate so much freaking papaya).  My heart is beating so fast.

Oh God blog….

I’ve sold 74 memberships so far.  I need to do last months numbers to figure out how many more I need to sell in order for me to start breaking even every month.  But it’s a catch-22.  From every angle, it’s a catch-22.

If I continue having all these clients, giving shitty massages because I’m so damn worn out, I’ll never sell more than 74 – who would want to get a monthly shitty massage from me?  Not to mention I can’t get myself out there to market my business whilst I’m busy giving shitty massages all day.

Solution?  Hire another therapist.  Catch-22?  I can’t hire another therapist until I can make sure I can afford them.  I can make sure I can afford them by selling more memberships.

And the members that I DO have, I’ve promised them easy bookings.  They can get in whenever they want whether it be short notice or not.

I’m not keeping this promise.  All of us are completely booked solid for the next seven days.  There are five of us!  What members are going to want to stay if they can’t get in?

We have 550 online deals still circulating out there.  Once they get redeemed, we’ll have more space.

There’s always some kind of crunch to go through, you know what I mean?  Two months ago I was going through the online deal crunch – groupon debt.  This month I’m going through an entirely different crunch.  74 monthly members need to be able to conveniently schedule with us at the same time we’re redeeming all those stupid online deals.  Member clients make up 90% of our income (I’m not making anymore from the online deals), so they are priority, however, I need those online deal clients to sell more memberships (not to mention to keep my employee’s booked).  Catch-22.

And I’m drowning in skin, lotion, limp bodies, back and neck pain, sore legs, empty stomach, no sleep, stress.

Crunch…..

I need to do those numbers.  I need another therapist.  I haven’t been eating away into my personal line of credit yet, in fact, I paid half of it off leaving me with a remaining $4,500 of debt.  The only thing that could bring me into borrowing money again is a new hire – it’s the only thing that can tilt the scale.

But if I allow myself to borrow again, will I eventually be able to pay it off once we sell more memberships?  How long will it take to sell enough memberships until I can stop borrowing?

Oh.  My.  God.  Blog.

Growth seems to happen on a gamble.  Although, I don’t like to think of it as a gamble, but an investment.  We plant crops on a gamble hoping they’ll grow.  If we don’t plant, there will be no growth and where there is no growth, we find ourselves scrambling to the nearest wild berry brush, gnawing on cattails and grubs.  Always starving.

Do I start planting or start preparing for a hard winter?  Catch-22…..

Ayahuasca told me she will give to me as long as I give to her.  The more I drink, purge, let go, surrender, don’t slink away into control and darkness – she will show me everything that I’m ready to understand.  If only I give to her everything I have.  My heart, my curiosity, my strength.  I’ll get it all back.

How much faith do I have?

I go through this every time I hire someone new.  A period of torment.  And after each new hire I always exhale and say to myself “now I can relax.  Now I won’t need to work so much.”  And each time I’m wrong.

Shit I need to sleep.  Sorry for these types of posts.  They are mainly for myself so I can record my progress.

I’ll write about my trip to Ecuador after I crunch those numbers.  My next post I’ll tell you exactly how much I make and what I pay each month.  As of now I don’t know if I’m plus or minus.  Literally no idea.

Monday.  I’ll figure it all out on Monday.

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