Day One of P90X

I’m not posting any pics.  Screw that shit.  I know people love looking at before and after photo’s, but maybe I’ll post those at the end of the 90 days, not during.  I don’t even know if I’ll make it to the end.

Day one was back and chest.  A lot of push-ups, chin-ups, and pull-ups.  I did what I was able to, which was a lot less than the last time I attempted P90.  It feels like I’ll need a lot more than 90 days.

When I first did P90X, it kicked my ass.  I was sweating profusely, super hot, drank a bunch of water – the works.  It was great.  But this time however, I physically couldn’t do what I did last time.  There’s not much of a workout if I physically can’t do one push-up.  5 years ago I was able to do 20 push-ups!  It whooped my ass but I was still able to do it.

I did what I could this time.  I had to do modified push-ups.  Not the girly kind that has me on my knee’s, but the kind where I don’t go all the way down.  And I used a chair to support my weight when I did the chin-ups.  I kept doing reps of 5 for everything which is hardly anything that can work up a sweat, but that’s all I had in me.

I didn’t think I’d be sore today but I am.  I’m feeling it.  Not horribly, but enough.

I’m going to attempt day two of P90X and after, if I’m not too worn out, I’ll hike up my big little mountain.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under journal

Entering into the Glory Days: My New Chapter in Life

My Dad woke me up today at 8am after I had a late night of 7-8 beers and little sleep.

Dad – “Mel”

Me – no answer

Dad – “MEL!”

Me – “Yeah…..”

Dad – “We’re leaving now for Atlantic city.”

Me – “Yeah….”

I fell back to sleep for what seemed like a few hours until I hear my Dad again outside my bedroom door….

Dad – “Mel”

I waited for the second, more boisterous MEL to jolt me awake, but it never came.  Then I thought to myself, “what are they still doing here?  Didn’t they leave?”

Me thinking – “Oh God, they did leave.  So who’s outside my door?”

Rational brain – “It was an auditory hallucination, don’t panic.  You’re still half asleep.”

Then my alarm went off about a minute after I heard ghost Dad calling me.  I slammed on the snooze.

My brother’s in Rhode Island with my dog and I’m all alone in the house until Tuesday.  I’m already creeped out.  It sounded so real!  An exact echo of this morning when my Pop first woke me.

I’ve had auditory hallucinations before but never like this.  The crap I hear is usually heavy machinery, 20 TV’s turned on and blaring, one time when I was a kid I heard a news bulletin but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

I only hear stuff when I’m super stressed, I drank too much, and/or had little sleep.  It’s annoying when it happens.  It is NOT a spiritual awakening, it’s science that we haven’t figured out yet.

But anyways, I made a pledge to myself that I’m going to start the p90X workout tomorrow.  90 days of pain.  I don’t want to do it because it cuts into my laying around time, but I have no choice.  And plus I left behind my only pair of sneakers in Italy – I need to wear sneakers or my ankles get sore (learned from last time I did P90X).  So now I need to buy a pair of new freaking sneakers.

I’ve been hiking up my big little mountain most days.  I push myself to do it and it has gotten way easier, but I still feel like a fat slug.  I still don’t feel my best, my confidence is low.   My pants aren’t getting any looser.

It’s taking way too long is what I’m getting at.

I’m highly determined when it comes to certain things but I’m equally as lazy.  How can I be both?

I’m determined when it comes to things infringing upon my laziness.  I can’t enjoy being lazy if I’m fat and progressively getting fatter – the enjoyment plunges and morphs itself into self-hate.  I swear to god, I know I sound dramatic but it’s true.  My favorite activity (laying around) becomes tainted, no longer care-free enjoyment if I can’t run to save my life.  Eventually I’ll need one of those electric chair thingy’s to do my Walmart shopping in and clearly that’s unacceptable.

Why do I enjoy being lazy?  Because that’s the place where everything settles at the bottom.  The waters become still.  I can finally think and clear my head, to see straight down into the muck of the person I am.  No other activity welcomes me as much as mucking around the still waters.  It demands so little of me (none of me if you want to get zen with it).

My laziness started around mid-May and now it’s June 25th.  The chronic worry I faced during the initial onset of my retirement is subsiding and being replaced with insomnia.

I’m a night owl by nature.  Night is when I come alive.  And since I don’t have to wake up early anymore, the combination of being awake at night and sleeping in is seriously messing with my circadian rhythm.  I had insomnia 4 days in a row last week and I haven’t suffered like that in years prior.

So tomorrow I’m going to FootPrints to buy sneakers, then heading back home to start day one of the P90X.  It should quell my insomnia to some degree.  Seriously, P90X is no joke.  It’s an hour of pure ass-kicking.

These past 4 years of working 70 hours a week has taken its toll just as I knew it would.  Yet another reason why I hate giving massage – it makes me fat.

But what blows my mind is – I foreseen all this happening.  Almost like I planned it.  I knew my body would be a wreck at the end but I also knew as soon as my time freed up, I would do something about it.  I’m not just all talk.  I’ve never been all talk.  I planned for this and I’m actually following through.

As far as my business goes…..

Have you ever looked back on a certain time in your life when everything seemed easy and fun?  Like an old job you out-grew, but loved the time you spent working there?

I’m horribly sentimental to a fault and I kept wondering over and over again ever since opening my business; “if I look back on this time in my life, would they be fond memories?  Easy and fun, filled with loving people?”

The answer I always found myself with is No.  No this is not a fun time and no I would not look back on it fondly.

That is until now.  I’m living in that time right now.  The time when everything is perfect.  I can look back on this present moment and say, “Best time ever.”

I’ve been waiting for this moment since opening.  And if you completely disregard the pending lawsuit, things will only get better from here on out.

I think things are good now but you just wait…it’ll get even better.  You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.

My receptionist has a lot to do with it.  She ties everything together.  She’s even throwing us an employee party at her house which is ultimate in strengthening the bonds we share.  The stronger the bonds, the more powerful the business.

I feel like I’m reliving my 20’s.  The ease and flow of life when you’re young, it’s all coming back.  Complete with care-free’s, no responsibilities, and following the fun.

When I look back on last summer, the only thing I remember about it is my spontaneous 5 days off.  I had 5 days off in a row, it wasn’t planned.  It just happened.  The rest of the time was spent on stress and one disaster following another.

So far this has been the best summer of my life.  Well, technically 1986 was my favorite summer since I thought it lasted an entire year (I was 6).  I graduated kindergarten and waited for first grade to start but it never came.  I remember asking someone if I had to wait a year until I can go to the first grade and they said, “it’s not a whole year, just the summer.”

But yeah….this is the best year of my life.  I can’t get over it.  And it’ll only get better!  As long as I keep the weight off and stay healthy, age won’t be a bother.  I have nothing but the best years still ahead of me.  And it all began last month.  It’s only been a month of this!

And according to my poor math skills, I’ll have an extra $2000 in the bank starting next month.

Don’t get me wrong, life still sucks.  I can never stop the suck completely, it’ll always be there.  All I’m trying to do is make the best out of the suck.  Despite the suck, I will enjoy what there is.  I laugh in the face of the suck.

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

I sat outside on our back porch today – just for a few minutes.  I went out there to throw a recyclable away and as soon as I slid open the sliding glass door, I was hit in the face with a beautiful day.  Literally, I felt it hit my face.

Me – “Wow, it’s so nice out.”

Me thinking – “We are floating in pitch-black darkness surrounded by nothingness.  No air to breathe, no plant or animals, not even gravity.  Nothing.  Just coldness and the sporadic clump of debris that formed into an orb due to gravity.  We are on such an orb.  One orb of debris out of infinity.

I HAD to sit down to think about this.  To look at the tree’s, the sky, feel the breeze, the colors and brightness, hear the birds chirping.  How are we even here?

I’m part of the earth, it made me.  I’m a natural part of it.  But why me exactly?  Why Me specifically?  My thoughts don’t feel natural, they don’t feel born from the earth.

Language, which I feel is the deciding factor between beast and man, allows these unnatural thoughts to occur.  Language creates a barrier between us and the universe.  We are not it and it is not us.  Language is nothing more than an evolved form of basic survival.  It came strictly from ego, our fear of death.  It’s both linear and restrictive and forms us into everything we are.

The sad truth is that there is no me.  I’m nothing but just another animal born from science.  No better or different from any other animal that lived.  Language is the biggest obstacle that makes us think otherwise.  Like we’re special, we’re separate.  It’s the biggest lie ever told.

Once you grasp this, I mean REALLY grasp it, it shatters your world.  You will suffer ego death (which feels like dying for real) and reemerge as the buddhist monk who ordered his hot dog “One with everything.”

It’s like you have to study really hard, learn all that you can and when you’re ready – forget it all.  Wipe the slate clean because it’s all false, it’s limited thinking, it’s not as real as now.

But now you have a base-line to shoot from.  If not for all you learned, you wouldn’t have a place to plant your feet.  Language is a place holder.  Until you swap it out for something better, what existed before you will continue to exist unchanged.

I’m clearly transfixing dammit.  I hate when I do that.

Shit I hope I sleep tonight.  I’m hungry.

Tomorrow is a big day filled with new sneakers and kicking my own ass.

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help

Keep on Keeping on

I’m legitimately happy these days.  Mainly because I stopped thinking about the lawsuit.  I shouldn’t even bring it up.  But the thing is, when something bothers me, I don’t shy away from it.  I allow the emotions to sink in and I wallow.  I feel the full spectrum of it, all the emotions have to offer.

Emotions, to me, are equivalent to experience.  And since you only learn from experience (via an emotional connection), denying yourself the opportunity to experience all the shit storms life throws at you, there’s no point in living at all.

I’ll be a better person because of it.  Not only better, but happier.  I’ll have all my mental faculties in check since I didn’t deny the truth or dull my senses.  And I’ll never get the Mean Red’s.

We’re subconsciously driven by pain and pleasure.  This drive is so powerful that it’s not just in the subconscious do we experience it (or not experience it I should say), but we consciously decide pleasure over pain on a daily basis sometimes knowingly and sometimes not.  And when things get too tough to handle, our brains shut down the neural pathways associated with the pain, virtually all of them in some catatonic cases.

You become a non-thinking vegetable.  Non imaginative, non-creative, boring, defensive, stupid, scared vegetable.

I’m not much of a fighter.  I go with the flow.  I don’t even fight off nasty emotions that normal people struggle with.  I feel EVERYTHING.

A nasty thought or emotion is like a parasite entering your skull and feeding off whatever supplies its nutrients.  It’s a battle.  But if you don’t fight it, there is no battle.  And the initial nutrients that first entertained the idea eventually run dry once you turned it over in your mind so many times like kneading dough.

The trick is to always land on hope.  And once you convinced yourself there is more hope than there is worry, you can let it go.  You don’t even decide to let it go, it happens on its own.

And that’s where I’m at right now.

I consulted the I-Ching a while back, months and months ago, before I received the papers that I’ve been served.  And the I-Ching said something bad will happen in August but it’ll clear up shortly after.

So I’m thinking August is the month this will all go down.  My big apocryphal battle that took 3 years leading up to.

Anyway, until then, I’m going to keep doing what I’ve been doing because whatever it is, it’s working for me.  I’m happy.

Leave a comment

Filed under journal, Self help

It’s Life, Actually

It’s June now.  Good old summer is here.  And I’m laying in bed at 8PM on a Saturday.

Okay okay, I know I’m being lazy, but I don’t do this all the time.  I’ve been really social lately, more so than I imagined I’d be.  I’m actually proud of myself for it.  And I’ve been staying true to exercise.  I’ve been hiking and rollerblading just like I promised I’d do.

I’m keeping up on myself.  Making sure I don’t slouch my life away.  It’s hard not to be a slouch when I don’t have to work anymore.  I have to make a conscious effort just to get up and at least go for a walk.  “It’s just a walk Melanie.  You can do that.”

And then after my walk, I somehow have a surplus of motivation to get in touch with people I haven’t seen in a while.  Everybody I ditched from when I had to work 70 hours a week.  It always happens after I take a walk.  A walk that I have to make a conscious effort to take.

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

I’ve been redefining my definition of love.  I always thought love meant that you cared about someone.  That you look out for them and keep their best interests at heart.  But this definition depresses me because it’s the “movie” kind of love.  It’s not real.  Assuming a person cares about you is the worst assumption you can make.  It sets you up for the worst kind of heart break imaginable.

In the end, all people care about is what they can gain from you.  What you offer them.  And if they like what you’re selling, they’ll love you for it.  Heck, they might even become addicted to it.  They may become in need of it and when they reach that phase of need, most people consider that love.

No matter what angle I look at it from, this is it.  The harsh reality.

I’m honing in on the unreciprocated kind of love.  The one-sided deal.  I love people, but in my own way.  The kind of love I’m talking about can handle rejection.

I’ve narrowed down what love is in one sentence;  Being happy that a person is alive (or has lived).

You don’t want or need anything from them, but just the mere fact that they are alive, brings you joy.  And therefore love.  It’s not even unrequited love because you don’t want them to love you back.  Sometimes even preferring that they don’t in some instances.

“Just do your thang man, I love ya bro.”

It’s the most basic kind of love.  It’s the kind of love people have for movie stars they’ll never meet, or fallen hero’s that died for a cause – you love them for merely existing.  “Thank you for your service” kind of love.

A new baby has entered the world.  They contribute nothing, drain you of money and sleep, but you still manage to love them merely for existing.

It’s a primal, earthly love that is lost to us in youth.  When we stop buying Teen Beat magazine and pining over Ralph Macchio.

Granted, you should never idolize anyone, I’m not saying that.  But you can appreciate their existence from afar.

After puberty, most kids stop appreciating from afar when they learn other needs can be met in closer vicinity.  Needs such as sex, or an egoic need that makes them feel good about themselves.  It has nothing to do with appreciation and it’s all about what they can get.

It’s like they stopped dreaming and started settling.  They settled for immediate gratification obtained through the use of another person.  And if that person stops procuring what they need, they get dumped.

I’m trying my hand at the unattached kind of love.  It’s like hippie love, but I’d rather think of it as the most basic primal love there is.  A love that we lost interest in since it’s not obtainable.  It can’t be controlled.

You love a person for merely existing, so let them exist.  Don’t interfere.  Add to their life, not destroy it by means of control or jealousy.   Because you’re afraid of losing them.  Afraid of losing someone that defines your own existence.

If you love someone, let them exist.  Appreciate them.

If I can find someone who’s able to love this way, I’ll marry them and never let him out of my site.  You can’t trust those damn hippies with their enigmatic gravitational energy.

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

The doctor thinks my Dad might have prostate cancer.

My brother – “Don’t google it.”

He know’s how much I like to Google things.  But I took his advice and have not done so.

My Pop went in for a routine blood check and found out he has a large number of a certain type of blood cell associated with prostate cancer.  The doctor wants to wait a month to see if they rise again.

I’ve always been a proponent of unattached love.  When I’m at my strongest, I’m invincible to all heartache.  I don’t let anything beat me down.

But that’s never been the case with my parents.  I’m attached to them big time.  I need them.  I’ll never be able to let go.  So this whole prostate thing, it can’t happen.

I’m not Googling it.  I can’t.  I won’t.

I can’t do this thing they call life.

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help

It’s 4 in the morning and I can’t sleep

I’m normally a sleep junkie.  Certifiably reliable in the sack.  But here it is at 4 in the morning and I’m trying to piece words together.

I’m not listening to my audiobook tonight, that’s partly why I’m not asleep yet.  The other part is that I spent about 5 or 9 hours researching what bike to buy for my cross-country adventure.

But before I get into that, I’ll start from the beginning.

I’m miserable.  Dog gone freaking miserable.  If it weren’t for my friends kicking my heals (and the sweet sweet allure of alcohol), I’d be in bed curled up in a fetal position all afternoon.

I sound like a little bitch.  A whiny, spoiled crybaby – but I can’t do a goddamned thing if I’m being sued.  What is there to do?  Mope.  I’m eloping with moping.

I lost my happy and the only thing that cheers me up to some degree is the thought of going far far away down the Californian Pacific coast highway, singing about rusted tin roofs.

In the last few hours I decided to first buy a Harley, then I wanted a Triumph Street Twin, then I downgraded even more to wanting a simple motoped, YouTube said Motopeds are shitty bikes so now I’m in the market for an electric bicycle.

I went from wanting an iconic Harley Davidson to an electric bicycle.

But I can’t buy one.  I can’t do anything.

I’m saturated with boring personality syndrome as of late.  BPS for short.  I think it has to do with listening to audiobooks before bedtime.  Instead of my active imagination keeping me enthralled, looping pretend conversations in my head, being the hero of an ISIS attack – I fall to sleep in mind-numbing blissful routine.  Practically morphine induced.  Audiobooks work like a drug.

Think about it.  Drugs are mind altering, right?  Isn’t that the whole purpose of listening to an audiobook?!

So I’ve been on drugs unknowingly for a while now.

My brain is dead partly from that.  And the crushing realization of a pending lawsuit against my business that cost me a decade of my life to build.

Damn, I forgot why I wanted to write this post.  I thought it out in my head beforehand but I lost it.

Melanie, what ARE you doing?

No, I think I wrote what I set out to write.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under journal

Sphincter Problems

I’m laying in bed at 3AM completely grossed out with myself.

I fell asleep around midnight and woke up a few hours later with a horrible taste in my mouth.  Only, the taste wasn’t in my mouth exactly, it was stuck in the back of my throat.  I went to clear the back of my throat and that’s when I learned that’s where the contents of my stomach migrated.

Ugh God.  Oh God no.  Why God?

It’s as disgusting as it sounds.  No, it’s worse than it sounds.  Much worse.  The textures and the smells wafting up through your nasal cavity, the slight burn of acid.

If you’ve never experienced this yourself, pray you never do.

I swallowed and nothing happened.  My stomach contents where still caught in the back of my throat.  Like an over-flowing pool.  Not only that, but swallowing was disgusting.

I never knew that clearing the back of my throat with an “eh-hem” happens as far back as the esophageal sphincter.  In fact, I thought that whole throat clearing business happened in the windpipe and not the food pipe.  I’m so confused.

But when I tried clearing my throat, it made matters worse.  Much worse with a simple “eh-hem”.

Don’t make that sound when your sphincter won’t close properly.  For the love of god don’t do it.

I sat up in bed and covered my mouth with my hand.

“What new hell is this?”

“I don’t feel nauseous.  I don’t feel sick at all!”

“It must be cancer.  Esophageal cancer.  The kind of cancer that makes your throat stop working.”

I started imagining how the surgery would go.  If I’ll have to wear a bag of some sort that held my stomach contents and then have to manually empty it each night with some kind of suctioning device that I have to push down my throat.

Goddamn imagination.  I smite you!

“It’s not food poisoning.  If it was poisoning, it’ll be coming out both ends.  Not only that but I’d feel real sick.  What the hell is happening?”

Rational Brain – “It’s most likely acid reflux.”

“But I never had acid reflux!  I never experienced this before and I didn’t eat anything I normally wouldn’t eat!”

Rational Brain – “What about that head cheese you had earlier?  And those 3 smoked meat sticks from the butcher?”

“But they were fresh from the butcher…..”

Rational Brain – “You ate a hamburger and a side of beans before you went to sleep, plus a shit ton of chocolate and washed it down with milk.  Milk mixed with a quarter pound of head cheese would make anyone gag.  What the hell is wrong with you?  I thought you wanted to lose weight?”

“Let’s Google this shit.”

Obesity can cause acid reflux.  And chocolate before bedtime can cause it.  They say to keep your head elevated and chow down on antacids.

I didn’t go hiking today because my feet were still sore from walking in Italy (I wore my trusty 7-year old worn out sneakers [no longer trusty]).  So instead I went to my brothers favorite butcher shop in Meriden to buy head cheese and meat sticks.  I gobbled up the head cheese, no, more like inhaled it in 10 seconds flat.  It was a bit vinegary.  And ate 3 meat sticks.

This is the first time I did anything like that.

Gross story long, I ended up throwing up.

Moral of the story:

I need to lose weight, not eat chocolate before bedtime and never eat head cheese or meat sticks again.

I’m going to take 2 more tums and see what happens when I lay back down.  Luckily my brother has all this stuff in the bathroom already.  I hope it’s not hereditary.  I never needed to take theses medicines before.  What does Imodium do?  Do I need Imodium?  Well, it’s there if I need it.

I mainly hate to think this is age related, you know?

Leave a comment

Filed under journal

I’m back from Italy!!

I got back Saturday morning at 5AM and didn’t fully recover from jet lag until today (Tuesday).

I was so tired yesterday that I opted for a nap at 5:30 in the evening, and didn’t wake up until 7:30AM this morning.  That’s 14 hours of dead sleep.  I needed it.  And I dreamt of a scarab beetle which is a good sign.  I didn’t even know what a scarab beetle was until my dream clearly stated that it was indeed a scarab and none other.

I returned to my normal shlog of worries when I got home.  I think I’ll be okay in the money department (I think, but not 100% sure), I’m mostly worried about that Goddamned lawsuit.  I haven’t heard anything from anyone!

I prayed when I was in Florence.  I found a huge church that didn’t require an entrance fee or a line to get in and knelt down to pray.

Me praying – “I’m sorry I never go to church to pray but just in case this works, can you drop the lawsuit against me?  No wait, that sounds really selfish.  I also pray for my family, my mom, dad, brother, niece, her baby…..I pray for health and happiness to all of them.  Okay, now can you drop the lawsuit against me?  Oh shit…..this isn’t working, is it.  The more I pray, the more I sound like an asshole.  How long have I been praying?  Where’s Jill?  I bet she thinks I’m a religious zealot for praying.  Especially for praying this long.  Okay I think that’s enough for now.  When I get to the Vatican I’ll do better.”

When I got to the Vatican, there’s no place to kneel or pray.  It’s shoulder to shoulder with everyone looking up at Michelangelo’s masterpiece.  That’s in the Sistine Chapel.  The actual church of the Vatican is yet another long line, shoulder to shoulder inside St. Peter’s Basilica.  We all agreed to skip that one.

The Vatican is not what I expected.  I thought it was a large open space like an amusement park.  Only instead of rides, they have churches, chapels, steeple’s, fountains, a predominant gift shop in the center.  You’d be able to get pictures with smiling nuns and archbishops wearing their pointy hats.  Hop in one of the many confessional booths and for a small stipend, be absolved of all your sins.  Check out the modest dwellings of God’s most humblest servants…you know, that sort of thing.

But it’s not open at all and I didn’t see any smiling nuns.  They don’t let you leave the museum once you’re in it.  You’re hustled inside after standing in line (first you have to find the correct line) and then you keep walking.  And walk some more.  Shoulder to shoulder with other people who are walking behind you, and in front of you.  You curse at those stopping to take pictures – those who hold up the line.

You can’t read the inscriptions on anything or you’ll get trampled.

I’m not a person who enjoys crowds.  I tend to keep this tidbit to myself, and I do a pretty good job of it, but friends take notice when they see me standing by the exit of a crowded place.

I did see a lot of Egyptian art and a few mummy’s which surprised me because, well, what the hell do they have to do with the Catholic church?!

I saw a homeless man sitting outside on the hot pavement leaning his back against the Vatican wall – makes you wonder just how “holy” the place really is.

I sound awful.  Truly and dreadfully awful.  But I also seen a few old women looking haggard and dehydrated trying to get a few coins from the tourists standing in line.  They held out their shabby little cups and shakily pleaded, “Help” or “Please”.  Until they got shooed away by military men with their finger on the trigger of a semi-automatic (their finger was always on the trigger, not just to scare away old lady’s).

But I mean, the Vatican HAS to have some refuge for these people, right?  Hold on, let me look it up….yeah, they do.  Thanks to Pope Francis, the newest Pope!  He’s cracking down on all the scoundrels who use the Vatican’s bank for the sole purpose of tax evasion too.  He closed 4,000 accounts already.  He’s the real deal.  Best Pope yet.

Totally off subject.  Where was I?  Ah yes, my trip to Italy.

The best part was strolling around Rome in my pajama’s and drinking beer that I hid in a brown paper bag.  I’m a simple person.  Some say I’m too simple.

On one of these outings, where I was strolling a nearby park, my travel mate, my office manager, asked me why I haven’t blogged about the trip yet.

Me – “You know about my blog?”

I haven’t told anyone about my blog in the longest time.  I made a promise not to.  I was so careful…I didn’t believe her until she gave me proof.

Apparently it happened during one of my beer binging nights (so it could’ve been any night really).  When I was telling her that I shoot video’s of my trips.  I must have used her phone to pull up one of my blog video’s.  I’m actually narcissistic when it comes to those videos.  I love when people watch them.

The scary thing is, I have no recollection of this happening.  But showing a video of a former trip is something I would totally do.

The thing with having your friends read your blog is, they think everything is about them.  All that I write about is inspired by them.  It can be something so completely innocent, but just seeing their name, or assuming their name, can bring an unwanted feeling of….”oh shit, is she about to write something horrible about me?”

It’s a HORRIBLE feeling!  And having that fear in the back of your mind while reading my blog will cause anyone to assume the worst.  And in turn, hate me for it.

People who either trust me or have a healthy dose of self-esteem can stomach reading my blog.  The rest don’t leave it to chance.  They opt out.

Would I opt out too if I were them?  No.  I’d want to hang out with them more to see what they write about me and if they don’t mention me I’d be like, WTF man?  I’m not important enough?  That probably means I have the self-esteem to stomach it, but not the trust.  Ultimately I would stop reading it entirely because it doesn’t involve me.

I can write a lot about my trip to Italy.  How we were nearly thrown out of both hotels (my fault entirely both times), how Jill’s mother thought she lost me inside the Sistine Chapel (I could be found near the exit), snapping an ass pic of the statue of David, the best spaghetti I ever eaten, stealing rocks at the colosseum, almost getting myself killed inside the Casablanca airport by two large Moroccan women (I’ll save that for a different post).

We were searched at least 3 times before being allowed on a plane to the United States from Morocco.  Since it’s mostly a Muslim country, security was extra tight but only when flying to the states.  I’ve never seen it like that anywhere else.  Absolutely no water bottles on the plane.  All laptops and iPads must be checked.  All passengers patted down as they boarded the flight.  I kept it light and simple with Jill’s mom.  “This is great!  I feel so much safer now that they’re being so thorough.  It’s one thing we can thank Trump for.”

I was responsible for Jill’s mom in getting her to Italy and back home again safely.  I tried my best to keep her calm but by the end of our last flight when we were safe and sound at the JFK baggage claim, her exhaustion got the better of her and freaked out a bit when I had to run back to the bathroom to fetch my phone where I forgot it.  It was the first time I had to leave her side and she nearly buckled in my absence.

We walked a lot in Italy.  I didn’t mind it since I’m working on getting in shape again.  It was a physically demanding trip and traveling is emotionally taxing especially when you’re not used to it.  We had some crazy long layovers and this little lady kept up just fine up until that point.

It was funny when we came up to the Capital building in Rome.  It’s an ancient building, huge.  With sculptures and fountains and pillars.  I thought of our little White House back home and compared it to their Capital building and thought..”The USA never looked so small.”

Rome’s streets are clean and safe.  So clean in fact, that I need to look up where they put their trash bags.  New York has their trash bags in the street to be picked up by the garbage men.  But not in Rome.  Rome has no garbage outside their establishments.  It’s really puzzling.

It was a good trip, I’m glad I got to see all those things now while I’m young.  I tell you, people always say to travel while you’re young – this is the first trip I took where that makes perfect sense.  It’s a lot easier when you’re young to do these things.

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

Anyway, today I had a student from CCMT (Connecticut center of massage therapy) come in to interview me.  It’s part of the program, to interview an owner of a massage business.

You want to hear something crazy?  Ten years ago, I was interviewing the woman who owned In Touch, the massage business that was here before my business moved in.  I interviewed the owner and decided I didn’t like her much.  Didn’t like her at all actually.  But there was something about that location that felt familiar.  Like I was going to end up working there.  It didn’t make any sense to me at the time because I told myself I would never work for that woman, ever.

And there I was interviewing a student today at the old In Touch, where I conducted my own interview ten years prior to some bitch.

It’s funny how things turn out.

I’m still entering the beginning phases of my retirement.  For the past couple days, I actually got to hang out with friends which never happens.  One of them even fixed my moped and got it working.

Today, Tuesday afternoon, I was zipping up and down my street on a moped.  Being one of those annoying people who got a new toy that makes a lot of noise but are too scared to take it out on the main strip.

I’m a 37 year old woman living at home with her parents, semi-retired with no real job, who has the time to zip up and down her street on a Tuesday afternoon on a moped.  I can’t explain why, but this reminds me of the feeling I had in Rome when I was strolling the streets in my PJ’s nursing a beer.

Something about it is so freeing, so carefree.  It’s a feeling I long for over and over again but it’s so rarely obtainable.

That is until now…..May 1st was the first day of my retirement but it really didn’t happen until the 7th.  Then a week later, my office manager went away to start her trip and I had to go to work to take her place.  Then it was my turn to meet her in Florence and I stressed about my financial situation until beer soothed it away.  And now here I am, I’m back home.

This retirement thing hasn’t really sunk in yet.  It’s May 30th, 30 days after the start of my retirement but really I only had about a week of it.  It’s hard to enjoy anyway when I’m worried about money.  Even harder to enjoy knowing I’m being sued.

I have no clue what’s going on with that.  My newest fantasy as of late is for those 3 women to drop the lawsuit.  My insurance companies won’t cover it and I’ve got no assets, so they get nothing.  If they hired a class action lawyer, she’s not going to waste her time.

Maybe it’s already been dropped?

I HAVE to not think about it.  You don’t understand.  If I think about it, I’ll drive myself into the mean Blue’s.  The meanest blue’s imaginable.  On par with heartbreak.

Today, after I gave that interview to the CCMT student, I found myself with nothing to do.  I didn’t want to watch TV, I didn’t want to nap because I already slept for 14 hours, I beat my video game, I didn’t feel like blogging or calling anyone.  I had nothing to do but instead of resting and enjoying my free time, my mind automatically jumped to the nearest thing to worry about.

The worry I felt, it acted like a rope connecting myself to the mainland – to salvation.  If I let it go, I would find myself drifting away uncontrollably.  I had to keep myself steady by worrying about my business, about money, about getting sued.  It was the only thing that made me feel safe.  Like I was in control.

When I have free time on my hands, my mind shifts into a dark place.  It’s the first time I’m cognizant to witness it happen.  It’s so hard to explain and I doubt anyone will have any idea what I’m talking about, but that old saying just popped into my head…..”Idle hands are the devils playthings” or something like that.

I always need to be doing something to distract myself from my worry.  But even when I distract myself, the worry is still there, it doesn’t vanish, but it doesn’t hit me as hard.  It’s tolerable.

If I have a problem, I have to fix it.  I can’t sit around doing nothing, I have to fix it.  My unconscious won’t let me relax.  Something is wrong.  And the more free time I have, the more likely the mean Blue’s will appear.  Because I can’t stop.  This won’t stop.

When will it stop?

As I look ahead at the future of my business, I’m sure that after the lawsuit (months after), there will be a recovery period and then the worry will ebb.

This is only the beginning of my retirement too.  I’m not acclimated to having free time.  It almost feels like I’m sinking, I don’t trust it.  And can you blame me?  I hate giving massages and yet at the same time, I need to give massages.  To feel like I’m in control.

I’ve worked so hard for this day to happen and it’s here!  And I paid $43,000 of debt off in one year!  And I just got back from Italy!  How many good things have to happen until I can eliminate this gruesome affliction?

Video games act like a medicine.  Hiking too and blogging.  Not to mention beer.  The more I think about it, every activity that I find enjoyable, is enjoyable because they distract me.  The more power something has over my attention, the more of it I want because without it, I’m sinking.  I sink until I find the rope attached to the mainland.  I’m slowly reeling myself in towards salvation, towards madness.

Okay, so I know this about myself.  That’s the first step.  Ayahuasca told me that I have to let go, over and over she told me I have to trust.  She said we’re only in control when we learn how to trust.

I also know that people who turn to spirituality, turn to it because they had their hearts crushed and 9 times out of 10 hippies are broken egomaniacs.  But I swear to Gawd that my time with ayahuasca was the real deal.  Just like Pope Francis is to the homeless.

I have to believe in the power of my awesomeness.

I gotta sleep.  I’m about to crash hard.  I hope it’s not going to be another 14 hours of sleep kind of night.  I’m hiking up my big little mountain tomorrow.

1 Comment

Filed under Italy, journal, Travel, video's

Half of us are infected by toxoplasma!

I woke up and went to work today to massage one client scheduled at 12 noon.  Then I went to hike up my big little mountain.

It kicks my ass with each attempt.  I’ve been up and down that thing at least 4 times now and it’s not getting any easier.  Today was harder than the last time.

But I shall keep at it.  It’s either hike or rollerblade.  No other forms of exercise excite me.  At least, none that are free.  My goal is to hike the scarecrow out of me.  So I can connect my mind to my flabby body.  And I’m preparing myself for another trek.  When and where this trek will be, I don’t know yet.  I actually looked into trekking the entire Wall of China (After watching the movie The Wall).  But I’d die for sure so I scrapped that idea.

Today is May 17th and I’ve been greatly enjoying my free time away from massage.  YouTube especially has sucked me into its clutches.  I learned so much already!

The purpose for today’s entry is to write about what I’ve learned so I don’t forget it.

Years ago I invested in a cleanse.  I swallowed pills that killed unwanted parasites, drank a thick ghastly shake, and finished off my treatment with a special tea brewed twice a day.  Long story short, this concoction gave me Dermatographic urticaria, aka the skin writing disease.  I developed the itch during my purported cleanse.

You can always find me scratching.  My arms, my head, my knee’s….etc.  Worse when I’m stressed.  It gets real bad whenever I eat TV dinners for some reason.

I’ve learned in my time away from work, that that cleanse actually did rid me of my parasites.  But unfortunately for me, they were good parasites.

This is nuts but it makes perfect sense!  The way they describe it I mean, it’s astounding.  Each person has his or her own eco-system.  No two people have the same set of parasites in their body.  Not only do they not have the same set, but there are so many parasites out there, we harbor trillions of them per person, and it’s more likely that you will have not one parasite in common with your neighbors parasites.  You carry with you a species of parasites unique to your body that no other person has.

You can find your particular little eco-system of bugs in your very own belly button.  Sick people however, don’t harbor many bugs in their navel.  The less you have stored there, the sicker you are.

Oh and get this!  People who have allergies, have them because their ancestral body – their coded DNA, had it’s mind set on fighting off parasites from day one but now that people are hand sanitizing crazies, our body fights itself instead.  Not necessarily fights itself, but overreacts to the smallest triggers.  It overreacts because they are just like the bored cops in my hometown, they got nothing better to do.

And that’s what originated my itch.  My good parasites that were unique to me, has taken flight and now my histamines pounce on any pressure given to my skin because they’re not battling it out with my forgotten brethren who lost the battle.

I’ve been trying to get that parasite back.  I’m starting to eat unwashed fruits and vegetables, eating sushi like crazy, yesterday I ate raw angus beef that was supposed to cook itself in my soup, but it didn’t quite make it.

There’s even a certain mix of parasites that cause obesity, or a slow metabolism.

And listen to this!  This is even crazier!  There’s a parasite called toxoplasma and half of us already carry it.  You want to know what it does?  First I’ll tell you what it does to mice.  Over the course of thousands of years, mice learned how to run and hide at first site of a predator.  Particularly cats.  Toxoplasma basically turns all those years of evolutionary instincts into irreverent fodder.  Mice now leap out at cats.  Not attacking the cat, but subserviently waiting to be eaten by it.

Why cats?  Because toxoplasma can only reproduce in cat guts!

And they did a study on how it effects humans and it is said that those with toxoplasma take more risks than those who are not infected.  I mean come on now, this shit is wack,  Amirite?

It’s makes you wonder if we truly are in charge of our thoughts and actions.  I say we’re not in control, I’ve been saying it forever, ayahuasca even mentioned we’re not in control.

I want to make a separate post describing all the psychological reasons as to why we’re not in control, but it’s going to be a fat hog of a post.  I need to invest real time when I tackle that beast.

Anyway, it’s 8:40PM and I need to wind myself down for the night.  I need an early cut-off time with my blog otherwise I have trouble sleeping.

Tomorrow I’m going rollerblading.  Then maybe Cheshire Coffee with my blog, we’ll see.  Oh god I love not working.  OMFG I lurve it.  I need to enjoy it while it lasts.

I also want to write about water memory.  It’s insane!  Insane I tell you!  Insane in the membrane of water.

All of this stuff I’m learning can be tied neatly together in the biggest, baddest, most epic sci-fi novel ever created.  Chock full of all this shit.  Both fiction and fantasy with the reader not knowing the difference.  Just like Orsen Wells, that cheeky bastard.

Leave a comment

Filed under journal, random thoughts

Melanie, what are you doing

I had a nice quiet day planned for myself.  I was to get up, get my hair cut at my brother’s salon, check in at work, go hike up my big little mountain and then finish off the day with my blog at Cheshire Coffee.  A perfect day.  The perfect plan.

But it all came undone when I checked in at work.  I was making confirmation calls (my receptionist is in Spain this week) and without going into the boring details, I was suckered into taking a client smack dab in the heart of the day (4:30pm is the heart).  My original plan was blown to shit.  On such a beautiful day too.

So instead, when I was done massaging, I took my $10 tip and bought myself a quart of beef Pho from the Thai place.  Then I went home to watch season 2 of Sense 8 with my dog.

Just as I was about to click on Sense 8, Netflix suggested that I watch Anne with a E.

Me thinking – “What is Anne with an E?  Did they remake Anne of Green Gables?”

“I’ll just watch the first few minutes of it to see how it compares to the old one.”

And here I am at 11 o’clock at night with Netflix asking me if I’m still watching.

“STFU Netflix, don’t judge me.  Yes I’m still watching!”

I’m on the start of episode 4 season one.  It’s better than the last remake.  They picked the perfect actress to play Anne this time.  I can NOT stop watching.

And this my friends, is my Tuesday.

 

Have you ever found yourself perfectly content, enjoying some mundane activity and then you catch yourself enjoying it?  Almost like you’re looking at yourself from third person POV, kind of spying on yourself, and you ask yourself, “Melanie?  What the hell are you doing….What is this….Is this your life now?”

Have you ever done that?  Because I do it at least once an hour.

“Melanie, what are you doing….”

When I smoke pot, this third person point of view is resounding.  Demanding attention.  Scolding me and calling me a fool.  For stupid things too, like for staying up late when I can no longer keep my eyes open.

Pot- “What the fuck is wrong with you?!!  If you’re tired, GO TO SLEEP!”

It happens with other people too.  “What the hell are they doing?  Do they even know what they’re doing?”  Again, it’s a hundred times worse when I smoke pot.  I can’t smoke around others because they all seem fake somehow.  Fake and scared.  Not everyone, but mostly everyone.

It’s like I’m forever in third person.  I feel this way when I hike.  My body isn’t connected to my head.  When I walk, I feel too high off the ground, too clumsy.  I’m like a scarecrow, full of straw with my arms flipping around whenever I stumble on a rock.  Like I have no bones in me.  I can’t see myself.  It’s like I’m walking blind.

It’s hard to explain, and no, I’m not high right now, but those words are the best I can describe it.

What are you doing Melanie…..what are you doing.

I’m tired but I want to watch one more episode of Anne.

“These episodes are long!  They’re like an hour.”

Pish posh I’ll have none of that.  I do what I please.

I keep looking at myself wishing myself into normalcy.  I’m scared is what it is.  Not the mean reds, not depression kind of scared, but scared of unhappiness.  I’m scared of being unhappy.  And that fear is keeping me from everything.  It keeps me away from romance, from having kids, from wanting a 9-5 job.

I believe everything will happen in time, when I’m ready.  And what makes me happy now is watching Anne of Green Gables….I can’t help it.  I can’t help being happy now at this very moment in my little life.  It’s like a secret I have to keep.  I’m not supposed to feel this way.  I can’t be content now, not when there’s so much more I need to do.

There’s a push and pull in me, always.  Just enough tension in my fraying elastic.

But all I can do is wait and see how everything plays out.  I can’t make my next move.  Not until this lawsuit is over, which already wreaked havoc on my psyche.

So let me enjoy these few simple moments.  These precious free days that I worked years to acquire.

What am I doing?  I’m taking one day at a time.  That’s what I’m doing.

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under All about me, journal

The ATM mugged me

This lawsuit has really gotten into my head and warped it.

I went to the bank today to deposit all the cash money I saved towards my bankruptcy fund and ended up accusing the ATM for eating $370 of it.

I flipped the fuck out.  I wanted to cry.

Remember that dream I had?  The one where I was eating money so nobody could steal it?  Yeah, well, I subconsciously feel like somebody is out to take my money.  That’s what I mean when I say the lawsuit warped my mind.  It got to me on the deepest levels of my psyche.  Not even $50,000 of debt had the capacity to do that.

So there I was at the ATM, subconsciously thinking that people want to steal my money.  I had NO idea what my mind was concocting behind the scenes.  No clue this was lurking in the shadows.

That particular wad of cash was symbolic.  Not like the other times I deposited money.  This time I was handing out my safety net, feeding it to the beast.  The cog of economy.  My subconscious was irate at this ATM for taking away my only security.

Long story short, I went through the rigamarole of filing a claim.  I was at the bank for at least 20 minutes.  The chubby girl helping me was so smart and kind and actually calmed me down because she wasn’t a dumb ass.  She was patient.  She was even patient towards the dumb ass banker on the phone with her.

After I was done, the claim filed and the missing money credited into my account, I walked over to the teller.

Her – “Did everything work out okay?”

Me – “Yeah, everything’s fine.  They actually credited my account.”

Her – “That’s good to hear.”

I handed her the money to deposit instead of going to the ATM again and that’s when I seen it.  The rest of my deposit money.

Me – “I made a mistake.”

Her – “Yes?”

Me – “I found the missing money.”

Both the tellers laughed and said “these things happen.”

The Chubby girl who helped me didn’t laugh.  I wasn’t laughing either.

This shit never happens to me – NEVER.  That damn lawsuit snaked its way in.  I’m starting to fall in line with the rest of the stupid lame ass adults not having a clue.  They’re clueless because of their snakes!

Granted, I haven’t eaten or drank any water before then and it was already 2:00, and my 2-year old cousin/nephew died last week.  But still….

Utter embarrassment.

I went to work to see my receptionist.  She’s buying us tickets to the Colosseum and the Vatican so we can skirt the line.  I filled my big empty Nalgene bottle with cold filtered water and chugged half of it.

Then I went hiking up my big little mountain on an empty stomach.

Brutal.  God awful brutal it was.  My stomach was so empty but I STILL wanted to puke.

I think I’m going again tomorrow.  Up the big little mountain.  On a full stomach this time.

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

It’s happened.  My retirement from massage.  This is my second day off and I already feel well-rested.  But it doesn’t matter how well rested I am as long as snakes are snaking their way into my skull.  My only protection from them is acknowledgment.  Yes I see you and yes I am clearly affected by your presence.

Snake – “Sssssso waddya goin’ to do about it hmmm?”

I’m going to keep you in my sites.

Snake – “You can’t essscape your problemssss no matter how much you mull over them.  I am a part of you now.”

Not unless I keep you separated.  You can’t grow roots if you’re cut off.

Snake – “You underestimate my debtsssss.  I am beyond your control.”

Rational Brain where the hell are you?

Rational Brain – “I’m patiently waiting for you to stop talking to your multiple personalities so we can play Persona 5.”

Speaking of Persona 5, it’s about a group of high schoolers who’re able to enter into the metaverse and steal peoples hearts.  According to this video game developer, people become warped and distorted by desire.  The high schoolers don’t actually steal hearts, they steal peoples deepest desires – their most prized possessions.

But the developer got it wrong.  It’s not desires that warp people, it’s fear.  They should’ve made it “fears” they were stealing, not desires.  Desires are fleeting and nobody really knows what they want anyway.  Only self-actualized people know what they want and you don’t see many of them walking about these days.

If my desires got stolen right now, the Phantom Thieves would find a plate of cheesecake.  Or maybe rice pudding…..yes…..rice pudding.

Rational Brain – “You are such an old man!  Rice pudding?  Seriously?”

Snake – “I’m going to ssssteal the rice in your puddingssss.”

Really cold vanilla rice pudding, yum!

Rational Brain – “You want to know how to protect yourself from that snake?  Laugh at it, that’s how.  You have to be strong enough to laugh at your problems before they turn into demons and what I mean by strong, I mean have the courage to not be afraid of them.  Didn’t you already write about this a whole bunch?”

Yes, but I keep forgetting….

Snake – “And why do you think that issss?  Hmmm?  Tee hee hee.”

My true self is funny, sometimes uproariously so.  I made one of my therapists cry laughing yesterday – literally she was crying.  She needed a tissue.  And what I want in life is to truly be left in peace, so I can write a book.  And drink at bars.  And go to coffee shops and museums and hike the woods and see temples and mountains and eat LOADS of weird food.  To paint my pictures and play my games.

Rational Brain – “As long as you know what you want, you know who you are.  You are not your problems.  You like to make others happy, and you really do appreciate life.  That’s who you are.”

I can’t let this virus, this lawsuit change me.  I have to laugh at it.  No matter what happens, I have to believe I’ll be okay.

The business scored a 4.8 out of 5 stars from over 600 votes and we made almost $800 today.  Today I managed to pull an emotional 180 and hiked till I puked.

Rational Brain – “I’d say you had a lively day, now game time!”

Whew, yes.  Game time.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under All about me, journal, random thoughts, Self help