Monthly Archives: July 2018

Melanie’s Mundane Life, or is it?

It’s been 10 days since I ordered my E-bike.

It’s strange how it feels like a piece of me is missing even though I never owned this piece of me in the first place.  But I understand.  I owned $2700 and that $2700 was a piece of me and now that it’s gone, I want my damn E-bike to compensate for my loss.  So in a round-a-bout way, yeah – my E-bike feels like it’s a part of me even though we were never formally acquainted.

It’s Friday.  It’s 10:21 AM.  And I don’t have to work.

I had a bad dream last night.  The world was ending and my mom wanted to stay here in town to be with her friends, but my dad wanted to get us to our cottage in Rhode Island.  He thought we had a better chance of surviving out there.  I agreed with him.

There’s really no right or wrong choice on whether to stay or to go.  It comes down to what kind of person you are in the end – when shit hits the fan, who are you?  Do you seek comfort amongst family and friends?  Or do you fuck everybody and do your own thing?

I guess I’m the type to fuck everybody and do my own thing.  Well, fuck everybody except my immediate family that is.  Because in the end, I’m a horrendous cynic and believe that everyone will fuck me over the first chance they get so I bess’ be on my way.

It’s my unfortunate reality.  There are people out there who believe otherwise, like my Mom, but I can’t see it.  All people ever do is use each other.

I had to go to Bozrah yesterday to massage one client.  I made it a habit of ordering food just before leaving to go home so it’s ready by the time I roll into Wallingford to pick it up after work.  And yesterday I ordered so much food.  So much…..

Egg drop soup, spring rolls, oshinko roll, philly roll, white tuna and cucumber roll, and an inari cucumber roll.

It’s a lot of freaking food.  It took me all night to eat it while playing my video game.  I loved every minute of it.

On my way back home from Bozrah yesterday, an hour drive, I didn’t listen to the radio, podcasts, or my audiobook – I instead watched the story of my book idea unfold in my minds-eye.  It was riveting.  Even while I was massaging, before I left to go home, I watched my story unfold – I didn’t want to end the massage because I was at a pivotal part in the story and didn’t want to break concentration.

The hero of my story, Chris Pratt, has finally made it to the center of “Dante’s Inferno” in his VR experience.  (Please read my previous post about my book idea to understand what I’m talking about).

So, he finally made it to the center and he learns everything there is to know about the true nature of his world.  I won’t get into explicit details, only that he finds out that his entire universe – him and everyone, everything in it – is nothing but a simulation meant to recreate historic events, help predict future events, and meet influential people of the past.

His “creators” created a perfect replica of their own universe, down to the last blade of grass and hair on a dogs head.  Chris Pratt was born 2500 years into the “creators” past – if that makes sense.

All this might be hard to follow, I’m hoping I explain it better in my book.  Chris Pratt is living in a simulated universe that is the perfect historic replica of his creators universe and Chris was born 2500 years before his creators made the simulated universe.

Leonardo DiCaprio is one of the creators.  He meets Chris Pratt in the center of “Dante’s Inferno” by transporting his image via virtual reality.

Leonardo DiCaprio – “It’s you!  It’s really You!”

Chris Pratt – “Yeah….it’s me alright.”

Leonardo DiCaprio – “Half the people of my world don’t believe you ever existed!  That you’re some fable, a made-up story.  This is unreal!  It’s unreal that you’re real!”

Chris Pratt – “Well, it turns out that I’m just a simulation so….can’t be real, can I?”  He slaps at his chest.

Leonardo DiCaprio – “No Chris, you’re not just a simulation.  You see, everything that happened in your world, happened in our world too.  If you exist here, you must have existed in real life!”

Chris Pratt – ………..

Leonardo DiCaprio – “But it turns out that you’re just a regular guy!  And a simple man at that.”

Chris Pratt – “Hey now, all my teachers told me I was special.”

Leonardo DiCaprio – “But you don’t have any special powers.  Not now anyway.  You only gain them after you come back from here simply because you learned how to manipulate the software….wait…..”

Everdeen – “I ‘spose that means your world is just as much a simulation as his.”

Everdeen is an old southern black woman from Alabama who found her way to the center of “Dante’s Inferno” after she died and Leonardo DiCaprio has been using her as a type of “Alexa” or “Siri” program to help answer questions.  Everdeen know’s everything.

Leonardo DiCaprio – “No.  No, it can’t be.  It can’t be.  Chris almighty, the simulationists were right.”

Leonardo DiCaprio – “Nobody can know about this.  Nobody can know about this!”

And he dissolves in a flash, back to his own simulated universe.

There’s a lot more to it than that.  I left out a TON of stuff, but you get the idea.  It’s a simulation of a simulation and it just keeps going down the line.

I think writing this book is the reason I was born.  If everything really is connected, and there’s a reason for everything and that reason is for us to evolve (like ayahuasca told me), then it makes sense that my job here on earth is to write this book.  Think about it.  I don’t want kids, I don’t want to get involved with anyone, I’m the most independent person that I know who owns a business that functions perfectly on its own – I basically have time to write it – I have no excuses not to.  And it’s coming to me so plainly and naturally.  It puts me in a trance, really.

It’s now 11:27.  I guess I should shower and go rollerblading or something.

It’s strange though….I’ve been writing this blog for about 8 years now and I never cared to make it “popular”.  I barely comment on other peoples blogs, I don’t dive into the blogging community by making new friends and promoting my writing – I like to stay hidden, buried in the depths to remain overlooked.  Why is this?  I think it’s so nobody can steal my book idea.  I’m the one who was meant to write it, and the universe knows it.

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The Trick to Confidence

In all the places I’ve traveled, from Thailand to Peru, my clothes always smelled fresh and clean after paying someone to wash them for me.  And I mean everywhere – even the poorest parts of Cambodia.  The kind of places where if a person owns a washing machine (not even a dryer), they’re in business.

“How do they do it?”  I always wondered.  I thought it was some exotic trade secret, or maybe they scrubbed the clothes by hand?  Pounding them with huge tropical flower pedals and incensing them with delectable oils.

I now know their secret.  They were using a washing machine less than 30 years old.

Our old faithful broke down a few days ago so Pop had to buy us a new machine.  I can’t get over how good everything smells that comes out of it.

Last week I slumped my head down into the well of our old washer and gave it a whiff.  It smelled like an old damp swamp sock.

Not anymore.  Melly shall smell no more!


The woman who’s suing me broke up with her boyfriend recently.  How do I know this?  Because he called to tell me.  Apparently she cheated on her husband 6 times with big beefy black men – a character trait I should know about.

Her ex-boyfriend also knows the guy who runs the Cheshire Harald and they want to write a first page cover story about me.  Apparently the guy who runs our little town’s paper thinks I’m awesome.  I swear I never met him.

Her ex-boyfriend wants us to talk and to be friends.  I said no to both the news story, and to us being friends.


I went on the Cheshire Harald website the other day while wasting time until my client arrived.  A 34 year old woman from my town died.  “Who is this woman?”  I wondered.

Her obituary didn’t say much.  Just that she was an EMT and is survived by so-and-so.  She looked healthy and happy in her EMT uniform on her obituary pic.

I searched her on Facebook.  We have 11 or so mutual friends.

Then I googled her.

First thing that popped up when I googled her name was 10-15 articles all depicting her arrest.  Her and her friend robbed their mutual friends of over $15,000 in jewelry.  She looked like a drugged out mess in her mug shot.  The guy she was with looked like a real dirt bag.

My findings conclude that she most likely OD’d from fentanyl laced heroine.  Either purposely or not.

Her linkedin account said she was unemployed.  Why have a Linkedin account to post to the world that you’re unemployed?

Internet is a cruel truth-teller even after we die.  I never knew her but that’s how I’ll remember her.


I had a realization yesterday while I was massaging my client.  That’s the one thing I miss about giving massages – the realizations.

Two weeks ago during my pool league match, They pit me against an older woman who hit her prime in the 80’s so she still looked straight out of the 80’s.  She was a level 2, just like me.

Anyway, she kicked my ass in both games.  I was devastated and my team felt my devastation.

So last Tuesday, 3 days ago, I decided to laugh it off no matter what happens.  I made up my mind to play my best game and have fun while doing it.  I made it a point specifically to decide on this before I drove down to the billiards hall.

We can tell ourselves to do anything, but we don’t actually listen to our own advice.  We’re too preoccupied with habits and thinking patterns.  But last Tuesday I bypassed my habits and thinking patterns so to make room for this new belief, this new perception and fully divulge myself in it.

It’s about paving the way for choice.  And putting myself aside to make room for it.

We can make choices.  We can decide on anything.  But there’s more to it than just that.  This is where people get confounded and stop believing they are in control.

I joined a pool league so I can drink beer, play pool, and enjoy a little healthy competition while doing it.  I didn’t join to make friends.  So when I first arrive early at the pool hall, my main aim is to grab a beer and practice.  I get so pissed when people want to chat during my precious practice time – it’s uber annoying.   I NEED to practice.

But this is part of my problem – if I make a choice to relax, have fun, and play my best – there’s no room to get pissed at people who want to talk to me.  By allowing myself to get pissed, I’m not in control.  The “choice” I made beforehand is invalid, forgo, forfeit.  I can’t let go of past beliefs.  Beliefs that tell me I need to practice in order to get better and I can only have fun and relax as long as I’m playing well – ergo, I NEED to practice, not chat, before a match.

People who play pool regularly know that 99% of the game is built on confidence.  The remaining 1% is skill.

I can’t be confident if I believe I’m lacking in practice – that’s a dichotomy.  So right off the bat, I’m failing at the choice I made to play well.  I’m failing the minute I arrive to the pool hall and see a swarm of people making their way over to me.  I can’t play my best game if I’m not confident to do so.  And according to my old belief, I need to practice in order to feel confident.

Some choices are easy, some are hard.  A simple yes or no, where to eat, what color to paint your walls with – those are open and shut.  Not letting the Cheshire Herald do a cover story on me?  An easy no.

But choosing not to get angry anymore, choosing not to drink alcohol anymore, the choice to do better in school, be a better person, exercise regularly….these are open-ended choices.  They have more moving parts.

My choice to relax, have fun, and play my best game has a lot of moving parts that I wouldn’t have known about if I didn’t make that choice to begin with.

The law of attraction comes into play.  The more moving parts that can trip you up, the more likely you will fail in the choices you make.  Everything must match up with your choice.  It’s not about “frequencies” or any of that bullshit, it’s about matching your unconscious beliefs with your current choices.

All you need to do is keep reminding yourself.

My friend Chris started talking to me as soon as I arrived at the pool hall.

Rational Brain – “Remember to have fun Mel.” I told myself. “Here, drink this beer, it’ll help.”  Yes the beer did help.

Me – “But what about practice?”

Rational Brain – “If you think you need to practice, that means you’re not confident.  Stay confident no matter what and have fun no matter what.”

Me – “Having fun feels very similar to having confidence.”

Rational Brain – “Yes!  You can trick your brain into having confidence as long as you’re having fun.”

I whooped my opponents ass in both games and won myself another patch. Next week I’ll have to sandbag.


It’s now many days later.  I ordered my Ebike July 10th and now it’s July 16th.  I can NOT wait to get it.  I’m watching YouTube video’s about bike touring and seeing all that can go wrong.  I’m going to need some workable knowledge in case I need to fix my motor or repair a flat.  One guy blew out his throttle 6 times in one bike tour, something I know nothing about repairing.

Zen and the Art of Ebike maintenance.  I wish that was a book.


I’m trying to spend all my barter network money so I can get out of their system.  I just bought a $1000 pool cue with my barter network money.  The case it came with is $300 alone.  I got an OB cue, a high performance non-deflective cue.  It’s what the pro’s use.

I’m really excited to use it.  Sal, the owner of Shooter’s (where I picked up the cue), let me practice on it a bit but I need more hands-on time to really understand the difference between it and my old cue that Erika gave me.

I know for certain that break cue’s make a huge difference in the way each stick breaks the balls up, but a players cue?  Not so sure about that.  Why $1000?  It’s just a stick?!

I’m hoping none of the other teams catch on that it’s a $1000 stick.  My lips are sealed.  No lever 2 player should be caught dead with a stick that pricey, or they’re no longer a level 2.  I’ll tell Nicole, but that’s it.  Nicole is my team captain and she became a very good friend of mine.  She knows my brother and her sister graduated high school with me.

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The Happy Blues

Earlier today I was watching Comedians riding in cars getting coffee and so I thought to myself, “what a great idea!”  And so here I am sitting in Cheshire Coffee drinking an iced decaf latte.

I haven’t done this in forever.  The last time I sat at a coffee house was to do my taxes.

Dave Chapelle was vaping his electronic cigarette in the coffee shop all through-out his chat with Jerry.  He made it look natural and necessary.  But if I did that, I’d get bitch slapped.  Not only by the patrons but by my close friends too.

So instead I sneak tokes of it in the bathroom like some crack addict but no, not Chapelle.   Some people have everything.

I guess I should write a little update on my life whist I’m here…..

Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it.  My life is fucking fantastic.  Fucking fantastic!

Here it is, a beautiful summer day in July – noon on a random Tuesday and as always, I’ve got nothin’ to do.  I don’t have to work.  I don’t have to do a damn thing!  If I do show my face at work, everyone asks me, “Melanie, what the hell are you doing here?”

It takes a while getting used to.  Normally I would lay in bed, order take-out and either watch a bunch of Netflix movies or play my video game.  It takes a while to actually want to venture out.  Even just to the coffee house.  It’s like I caught a small agoraphobic virus or something of the sorts.  Plus I can’t vape in here.

The thing with being happy is that I get dumb.  Really really stupid.  It’s like when you’re in a dark room for a very long time and you’re just emerging from it, the bright light is too much for you – all you can think about and see is the brightness of the light.  It makes you confused, unable to make out your surroundings or the situation.  You kind of just want to crawl back inside your hole so you can see better.

That’s me right now.  Wanting to crawl back into my hole.  I’m fidgety, yawny, I want to eat and drink and vape and do anything to make myself feel more like when I’m in my hole and not in the great big world of relentless wonder in which I find myself in – with time and money to spare!

It’s too much and I’m not big enough to get a handle on it.

I hate happy people.  I hate them because I think they’re all full of shit – ain’t nobody that happy.  Not ever.  I hate liars and fake people and happy people are both of those things. I want to punch them until they snap out of it.  “No you’re wrong!  Your life sucks just as bad as the rest of us!”

Unless they are stupid, then it’s okay to be happy.  I actually love hanging out with stupid happy people.

There ARE exceptions….like when a person accomplishes something.  If they get awarded or recognized.  When they tell you why they’re so happy, they do it with a proud embarrassed smile on their face while shaking their head in disbelief.  THOSE people are real and not liars.  They’ve got a reason.

The thing with me is….I don’t trust being happy.  It makes me stupid and uncomfortable and even socially awkward when I’m happy.

Why am I happy?  I’m about to buy my electric bicycle.  I haven’t done it yet….I’m prolonging it.  It’s like, I’m happy in knowing that I will buy it any minute but then after I buy it – like a second after I buy it, I’ll be broke again with buyers remorse.  I might even be depressed.

Okay, screw it.  I’m buying it.

I need to take my Bar Harbor trip this year because it’s a pre-cursor to my cross-country adventure next year.  I’ll be getting my feet wet with this Bar Harbor adventure.  I HAVE to buy it and this is the perfect time to do it.  It’s literally a life-long dream of mine.

I just bought it.  Oh god oh god oh god.  What have I done!?  Shit.

They build, test, and inspect the bike in California so it takes a good 2-3 weeks until they actually ship it to me.  By the time I get it, I’ll be able to take my Bar Harbor trip.

I always have to make myself uncomfortable somehow, it’s part of my habit of wanting to crawl back into my hole.  And I found that by spending money – like practically ALL of my money, is the fastest, easiest way to achieve misery.  Not only misery, but absolute terror.  The kind that sends pings of pain to your chest.

I’m embellishing.  I’m actually okay financially – really okay even after this.  And if I’m not okay, all I have to do is sell 40 signature couples massages on groupon and I’m good to go.  It’s just that big unnecessary purchases always make me cringe.  As they rightfully should, or I’d be in deep shit.  I’m not a rich person.

Anyway, I accomplished what I came here to do so now maybe I’ll rollerblade a bit before my pool league.  I’m feeling less happy now that I spent money on that bike so hopefully I’ll stop being so god-dammed dumb.

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Another Change of Plans

Yesterday I had a 45-minute client scheduled at 6PM.  I had to leave here at 4PM because traffic can be a real bitch and after the massage, it takes me an hour to get home so listen……I was away from 4PM until 8:15PM for a 45-minute massage which Groupon pays me $18 for.

Gas to get up there costs around $7.  So for $11, plus a $17 tip, I work for 4.25 hours.  But get this….earlier yesterday, Dawns client didn’t show up for her appointment which deducts an automatic $15 of that $28 I made.  So overall I made $13 and an earful of Dawn spouting how shitty it is to only make $15 for sitting on her ass. “It’s hardly worth my time” She says.  Well, sorry Dawn, but the place is going Down Dawn.

And today I do it all over again.

Fuck this shit man.  Fuck it.  You hear me?

I guess I should tell Dawn we’re going down but she has 4 clients next week and I’ll be dammed if I’ll be the one massaging them.  I’ll tell her right after those 4 clients.  Plus I’m pissed she gave me grief that I paid her $15 for doing nothing for a half hour.  Honestly, it’s going to feel good telling her we’re closing.

Anyway, this turn of events changes things.  It not only free’s up my schedule (which was already pretty free to begin with), but I’ll not need to buy another bio mat for Cheshire – I can use the bio mat from Bozrah.  And since I don’t have to buy anything, I can afford my electric bicycle.  And since we’re closing Bozrah, I have time to go on my Bar Harbor adventure.

We have 51 unredeemed Groupons in Bozrah.  After next week, we’ll have about 46.  I’m guessing 6 out of that 46 won’t even redeem their voucher.

I should’ve moved Sound Alchemy Massage into Cheshire from the start but I just wanted to try something new and exciting – I wanted to see for myself.  I wouldn’t have listened to anyone telling me it was a bad idea.  Nothing horrible has happened from it anyway except losing a small amount of money.

And I have this weird tendency of making myself feel just a tad uncomfortable.  I feel like there is no progress in comfort.  Another way of looking at it is that when I feel comfortable, it just means I’m too scared to push forward.  I settle in my comfort zone where I know I’ll be safe.  Life becomes encased in a thick layer of fat and my senses are dulled down into cankles.  Days slip by fast and flubbery.  Like trying to hold onto a buttery eel.


I improved on my book idea.  You know how I had two book ideas?  Well, now I combined them into one solid story.  I won’t tell you how I did it but they are perfectly combined into one cohesive story.

Fuck it, I’ll tell you.  I really really want to write about virtual reality.  That’s the main reason for combining both stories – so I can have some fun in the VR world.

So here’s the premise:

Chris Prat is dying of pancreatic cancer.  Even in the future, it’s one of the most deadliest, rapid sicknesses you can get.  He can go at any time.

There’s a way for him to prolong his life and get everything in order before his passing by undergoing the VR procedure which compresses time.  The deeper he submerges himself in his subconscious, he can stretch the rest of his life into millennia.

The VR experience is also a place where it’s possible to heal yourself.  But it’s a gamble since the deeper you submerge yourself, the less chance you have of ever finding your way back.  It can turn into an endless nightmare.

I concocted a whole backstory to this VR experience but I won’t get into that now – I’ll save it for the book.

Chris is the first person to ever reach his core spirit.  Not only did he reach his core, but he was able to do it with his mind still intact.  Most people go insane before reaching the bottom layers of their subconscious.

At his core is where he finds profound insights to life and to reality.

It’s a book about love, philosophy, and super hero’s.  It’s basically the birth of a super hero but instead of being born on Krypton, being bitten by a spider, or born a mutant – all my hero did was find himself.

I suppose in my own weird way, I’m trying to find myself too.  And I’ll never find her when I’m comfortable.

After my Bar Harbor adventure, I’m going to start writing this book.  This is the story I was waiting for this whole time.

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