Category Archives: All about me

Type A Genius

That’s what my new landlord called me.  That I’m a type A, overachieving genius.  Okay, I added the “genius” part.

If only my landlord can see me now stripped down to my skivvies with my gut hanging out.  An empty Russell Stover box that once contained a chocolate Easter bunny is thrown amongst the debris in my once illustrious bedroom.  Want to see a picture of my bedroom?

In the bottom right hand corner you can see my $800 bio mat that is now part of the garbage heap.

I made a list of everything I need to do today.  A total of 9 items.  But I woke up at 12 and by the time 2PM rolled around I decided I can do everything tomorrow.

I was laying in bed in my purple feet pajamas playing my game when my brother burst in wanting to get drunk tonight.

I haven’t hung out with my bro in at least a decade, so I couldn’t say no.  He’s my bro.  Family first, right?

So I got up, took a shower, and now here I am in my underwear waiting for my hair to dry so I can go out and get hammered.

All those boxes came from Amazon mostly.  Supplies for my new location.  I unboxed everything yesterday and brought it all to Bozrah where it now awaits its next instruction.

I have all the necessities, I just need to go to the good will and consignment shops for decor.  Marshalls sometimes has some good shit.

 

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

It’s now lots of days later.  Loads later.

I just want this new place to be open already.  It’s draining my will to live.

I made the mistake of posting the job too early.  So early that not a lick of anything was set up yet.  All my applicants found jobs elsewhere.

And another thing…..my credit card processing company will only swipe cards through a secured WIFI connection.  I don’t have a secured WIFI connection.  Even after describing my predicament to my landlord, still….it’s a no go.

I have to use Clover for my credit card processor because it’s the only one compatible with Booker.  Clover actually bought out Booker, so yeah…

I’m trying to see if I can use a mini-swiper attached to the cell phone and if that doesn’t work, I’ll see if I can manually punch in the credit card info – which costs more to do just FYI.

It feels like I’ve spent a gargantuan amount of money on this whole thing and all these little details are fraying at my soul.

I did manage to get the whole place set up.  I’ll not need to spend any more money on it.  It’s done.

But I have a relatively new problem.  It’s been a problem since getting back from Spain, Peru and Bolivia.  I can’t seem to curb my eating habits since hanging out with Hana.  I’m eating all my profits.  I spend about $100 on food every 5 days just on take-out.

I’m writing this while waiting for my order to be ready at Cheshire Pizza & Ale.  I ordered a small pizza and zucchini fries.  Then I plan to get back into my pajamas and eat and play my game for the rest of the night.  In the meantime, all my friends are going out – just about every single night – going out and having fun.

I hope I’m just going through a phase because I just want to curl up in a ball until all my shit gets straightened out.  What I mean by shit is, hiring my two independent contractors and the new place is fully operational.  Then I can relax.  I can relax once I repair a little bit of my financial cushion.  And then….oh boy….and then I just might go crazy and celebrate too big, you know?  I always celebrate too big.

Anyway, I gotta pick up my food.  It was nice talking to you.

 

 

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You want to know the sad truth? I’ll tell you the sad truth

Okay, It’s not that sad.  I didn’t lose any limbs or anything like that.

I got sucked into YouTube last night and listened to a young girl who lost both her arms and legs from bacterial meningitis.  My problem is not that bad.  Then I got stuck on watching a baby born in India with two faces – again, my problem is not as bad as two-face baby.

Fuck….how the hell do I compare to that?  Seriously?  I’m fucking retarded.  I’m sorry for the politically incorrect terminology, but I was born in the 1980’s to white Italian/German/Russian catholics who think everybody outside their family is either gay or retarded.  It’s true.  It fucked me up a bit.

So anyway….

I don’t think you’re retarded or gay…not anymore.  And even if you are, I don’t care.  Honestly.  I’m above the experiences that shaped me in my past.

Today was the start of a new Mel.  I was going to buckle down and start uncontrollably shitting out my new business plan.  Setting it out in action.  Doing this takes a great deal of determinism and confidence.

My new me not only relates to business stuff, but I was also going to start a new diet consisting of no beer or red meat.

My biggest problem, no, my biggest OBSTACLE, I whittled it down to it being alcohol and going to bed late.  These are the two biggest factors stopping me from accomplishing my dreams of being rich and having a hot bod.

I only drink when I go out.  When I’m around friends.  It helps me in the process of feeling wonderful.  And I only drink beer.  So I figure if I eliminate beer, I eliminate all obstacles, right?

Well, I eliminated beer last night and found an office to rent for my new business.  I also found 3 applicants, I ordered my iPad and decided to go with the Square scheduling system…all of which took a lot of time to decide – sober time.  And while I was so high on life and figuring this shit out, I also realized what a shit diet I had.  It was so shitty that I needed to figure out a plan that didn’t put me in an early grave where I’d need to be airlifted through the roof by a crane if I died.

Oh yes.  Yesterday was one of those days of clarity.  I knew exactly what needed to be done based on my personality type.  I know myself enough to know what I can handle.

And I’m right!  Beer and going to bed late – I swear to gawd, those are obstacles.

Hear me out for a second….

I haven’t written in a while.  Actually, that’s not true.  I’ve written, but they’re crappy posts that I saved as drafts.  All of them are about how hungover, drunk, and fat I feel – all shit I don’t feel like ever reading again.

It’s these saved drafts – the posts that are crap – that gave me clarity for that one night.  Last night.

Here’s what I learned last night:

Fist of all, it’s not all my fault.

I was working a lot at work.  I had a shit ton of signature couples massages that I had to deal with, I couldn’t do anything until they got taken care of.  Then my broken dryer fiasco happened.  I legitimately couldn’t do shit during this time.

Another thing to consider is that I have more friends now than I ever did in my entire life!

I’m a one friend kind of person.  I usually have one really good friend who connects me to everyone else.  I can’t deal with juggling, don’t want to, never wanted to.  But when that one friend starts hating me, then everyone starts hating me, well – I’m shit out of friends.

That actually happened to me in 2013.  I was completely friendless.  So I made new friends.  But now, all the people who hated me are now talking to me again plus I have all the new friends on top of the old friends and not only that, but my stupid pool league has given me even more friends, which, honest to god I didn’t even want.  Long story short, I put my iPhone down for a couple hours today and I had 21 missed texts from multiple sources.  It would’ve been more if I didn’t respond when I did.

Now keep in mind I’m a ONE friend sort of person.  It’s the reason why needy people love me so much.  I gravitate to the one person who needs me the most, and forget the rest.  And that one person, sad but true, keeps me from getting shit done.

I’ve been eking my way back into my 20’s.  The best years, right?  Wrong.  They were fun as hell, but I was a complete bum.

My late 30’s are looking like my early 20’s.  Who would’ve guessed?

So I vowed not to hang out with anyone until I get this new business up and running.

But then my neighbor texted me.  I haven’t seen her in months!  I go over, drink a bunch of martini’s and my one day of clarity comes to a close.  That’s it.  It’s already 1:40AM and tomorrow I have 5 clients, I’ll be dead tired when I get home.  Melanie’s end of productivity.

But when my friends stopped speaking to me in 2013, I got shit done.  I opened up my first business.  I started traveling.  I hate to say it, but friends can hold you back.  It’s like you become content, preoccupied, distracted, what-have-you.

They become an addiction.  You start to base your worth and value from their perceptions of you and it becomes a game.  “Who’s more popular this week?  Who has the most likes?”

Whoever has the most likes has the most influence and whoever has the most influence, has the most power.  It’s literally social media before social media existed.

Anyway…..I hate all that shit.  Fuck that shit, you know?

But I want to tell you about my new diet.

My new diet consists of no beer.  I can’t have a little beer because I don’t work that way – it has to be no beer at all.  I can never have just one.

And for the rest, I eat only my absolute favorite foods.  Luckily enough, I crave only healthy shit.

  1.  Anise  – It’s a very meaty cabbage/lettuce family vegetable.  I can’t get enough of it.  Topped with arugula and some kind of nut.  Accompanied with blueberry and raspberries.
  2.  The only two cheeses I’m allowing myself to eat are fresh buffalo mozzarella and goat cheese.
  3. A side of hummus for protein
  4. beets
  5. Lentils or quinoa if I feel like cooking something substantial and I have the time to do it
  6. On days when I’m famished, I can get chirashi sushi from Toro, cac mon bun from Pho & Spice, or teriyaki salmon lunch box from Yougu.
  7. mango’s, avacodo’s

I can live off this stuff.  I love it that much.

Shit, I’m so tired.  I gotta sleep.  This will end up being another draft I never post….fuck it, I’m posting it.

 

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My Last 3 Days

Today is Wednesday.  On Monday, I had insomnia.  I had insomnia by drinking one small bottle of Starbucks mocha latte, an impulse buy from Stop & Shop.

When I have insomnia, my mind goes into hyperdrive.

I thought of a new science fiction story about a young man who starts hearing voices.  The voice tells him that it’s himself, from the future.  His future self found a way to have consistent lucid dreams and through his lucid dreaming, he’s able to go out of body and into new dimensions of spacetime.  He can travel back in time but only as a voice in the head of his younger self.

I’m picturing Chris Pratt for this character.  A stupid, lovable Chris Pratt.  His future self is also stupid and all he wants to do is save the world, but he doesn’t know how.  They befriend a psychologist who treated Chris once he started hearing voices.  He thought he was going crazy so he went to see a psychologist.  It was the psychologist who convinced Pratt that he isn’t crazy, and together they team up to find ways he can use his gift to better the world.

I thought about this for 6 or 7 hours.  Completely immersed in my new fantasy.

It’s such a weird thing, insomnia.  I normally get sleepy around mid-night and fall asleep with no problem.  It’s like hitting a switch.  But with insomnia, I’m tired but not enough to hit the switch and when I want to hit the switch, I can’t find it.

Yesterday I had to brave the winter storm by going to work to let the Maytag man in to fix the dryer.  He told me what I already knew.  That the dryer was overheating due to our ostensibly long exhaust pipe.  I’ll either need to vent the dryer inside the room itself, or get an inline blower for $150 bucks.  But even with the blower, it might not be good enough.  I’m going to try venting inside the room, but there are also disadvantages to that such as needing a dehumidifier and constant filter changes.  And the heat will be stifling.

After that, I went to shoot pool in my league.  Because of the storm, we were short players.  Due to this fact, I had to be the sacrifice that night.  Being pit against a 6 while I’m a mere 2.  I was a 2 who’s gotten no sleep!  I said that I’d rather not play, and to play our 7 against the 6 instead, but our 7 didn’t want to play either.

I ended up getting crushed, but two of my buddies were there and we ended up playing each other after our matches.  All of us lost last night and we cheered each other up.

The problem with exhaustion is, at some point, adrenaline kicks on.  It’s a vicious cycle.  Exhaustion can in fact, end up keeping you awake!  I tried focusing on my audiobook to tune myself down.  I wanted so badly to write last night.  My mind was on fire with so many questions and idea’s.

I can’t remember what time I fell asleep.  No later than 2AM, but guess what time I woke up today?  2PM!  And I woke up exhausted.  I slept the whole way through.

My audiobook does a great job in putting me to sleep but it also ceases my ability to dream.  Dreaming is one of the most fantastic things I’m great at.  With dreams, I get to learn from my mistakes.  It subconsciously repairs my brain to become in sync with my desires.  Like with wanting to play better pool, dreaming about pool can make me a better shot.

There’s actual studies about this.  I won’t get better at pool unless I play it so much that I dream about it.  It’s the dreams that make us brilliant.

I have so many stupid ambitions and infatuations.

All I want to do today is play my game and hide from the world.  I don’t want to think about anything or talk to anyone.  But I have a client at 6:30.

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Get the fucking ball in the hole

My first APA game, I went up against a lovable old man.  I didn’t want to beat him.  I thought I’d “go easy on him”.  But in the end, he ended up beating me and I learned a valuable lesson.

Tuesday I was up against another adorable old man, Wally.  He had an oxygen tank and everything.

Me thinking – “Not this time old timer, not this time.”

I beat him.  He’s actually a decent shot too.

Every opponent I’m up against, I take seriously.  I take each shot seriously.  I’m training my mind to “get in the zone” for each ball I go for.

Tuesday I arrived an hour early for my match and left at 2AM – way after it was over.  I played a man named Dave for a couple hours after the match and towards the end of the night, I started beating him at every game.  I was getting better with each game we played.

I drank a lot of beer, but it didn’t seem to effect me.  I know that sounds like crap, but beer has no effect on my pool skills what-so-ever.  As long as I keep my focus in check (which takes a little more effort when inebriated).

The only thing that effects my game is my level of confidence and applying everything that I’ve learned.

But the best thing that helps me sink my shots is in telling myself, “Just get the fucking ball in the hole.”

It’s like I wipe the slate clean.  I don’t think about anything that I learned, and instead I focus on getting the ball in the pocket.  But at the same time, I’m aware of my body mechanics and knowing the precise place to hit the ball because I learned how from past experience – it’s all there, just subconsciously there.  I forget it all and focus on the main goal – to get the ball in the pocket.

I don’t know how or why this works, but it works.  I want to write about it so I don’t forget it – that’s how important it is.

Get the fucking ball in the pocket, Melanie.

My favorite part of the night was arriving early for my match.  When nobody else was there yet.  I popped in my wireless headphones and tried making the same shot over and over again.  The exact same shot, just over and over and over – whether or not I make it in.

Everyone else, they like to practice by shooting the balls wherever they lay, but not me.  Same shot.  Over and over.

And then I find myself with that exact same shot during a match and I think to myself, “just like practice Melanie, Just like practice.”  And I make it in.

I actually have fun when I take the same shot repeatedly.  I don’t get bored with it.  I get confused, curious, proud, all in that order.

I love pool.  I have trouble understanding why not everyone enjoys it.

 

 

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Lucid Dreaming

I just woke up from a lucid dream while laying on my PEMF mat.

I haven’t laid on this thing since it made me puke last week.

I wasn’t even tired today but as soon as I laid down, my eyes closed and I fell asleep within seconds.

I awoke sitting next to my friend Stephanie who proceeded in telling me that I was in her dimension and not my own.

I started asking her all these questions, stuff I don’t already know, and she diligently answered them and surprised me with her answers.  Unfortunately this dream was my first lucid dream in quite some time – my first ANY dream actually.  So I’m a bit out of practice in remembering what she said.

Steph:  “Do you want to watch E later?”

Me:  “E?!  Who the hell watches E?”

Steph:  “What time are you from again?  E!  It’s Neil Diamond’s special.”

Me – “Neil Diamond?  What’s so great about Neil Diamond?”

Steph – “How can you even ask me that?”

Then my old poodle that passed away 15 years ago jumped on my lap.

Me – “Oh my god, Spudz!  I missed you so much, you didn’t visit me in years!  How are you buddy, you doing alright?  Your fur is so soft and clean.”

I hugged and kissed him.

Then Julia Styles appeared.

Me – “Julia Styles?  What are you doing here?”

Julia – “Oh hey……..”

I forgot what she says but I went over to her and seeing that it was a dream and all, I started kissing her.  No tongue, just lips.  She had a small mouth and it was unfulfilling.

While I was making out with Julia Styles, I was transported away to another room where a man sat on the bottom half of a bunk bed.

Me – “Hey, who are you?”

Him – “I”m part of your team.  We’re looking for someone who just tried feeling up Julia Styles.”

Me thinking – I didn’t try feeling her up, what’s he talking about?

But then I jumped his bones too, but he disappeared on me before I got the chance.

All these people in my dream were teammates. We were a team of super hero’s.  We were superhero’s because we knew the world we lived in wasn’t real, we could control it.

At some point during the dream, my ex-boyfriend Dave showed up.  Dave wasn’t part of the superhero team, but he was there to help us.

I shouldn’t even be writing about this especially now that he’s married with a kid on the way, but once again, I jumped his bones.  I pulled his pants down and gave him a blowjob.

Me thinking – I can finally give him that deep throat he’s always wanted.

But no, even in my dreams I gag.  How is that even possible?!

Lucid dreams have the tendency of feeling more real than real.  Especially when it comes to sex.  Everything is heightened beyond your wildest expectations.  I’m not blowing smoke and you’d not believe me until you experience it yourself.  It’s the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever have in real life.

Julia Styles spotted a group of men dressed in black approaching the house we were hiding in.  They worked for the government and it was their job to kill superhero’s who might tilt the scale of power.

Julia Styles – “RUN!”

Since I knew it was a dream, I willed myself to fly upward into the ceiling.  It was hard to go through the wood of the ceiling, but I pulled myself through.  There were multiple floors in this house and I never seemed to reach the top.

Me – “Screw it, I’m going out the side.”

I flew out the side of the house and found myself floating in the universe.  I tumbled around at crazy speeds (but not out of body, it was still only a dream).  I floated through electric purple and blue storm universes which were my least favorite, and then I ended up on a planet completely made out of pixels.  It was a low-def video game from the 80’s.

Me thinking- Oh man, why are my dreams so outdated?  I can think up better graphics than this!”

I turned into Link from Zelda, only a female Link wearing a skirt instead of pants.  Zelda, I guess I was Zelda.  And I continued to fly around in a Minecraft-looking world, building castles and stuff as I floated above everything.

That’s the time I over-heated and woke up.  My PEMF mat was set to 5, it clearly states not to fall asleep with it set to 5.

I didn’t abuse the other controls though.  I didn’t give myself an overdose of PEMF, IONs, and PHOTONs like I did last week.

Damn, I gotta go to work.

it’s now the next day. Or possibly two days later, I don’t know.

I just reread what I wrote and what I want to know is why the hell am I so horny in lucid dreams? I’m NOT like that in real life. Nowhere near it, complete opposite. In fact, I just bought my first vibrator at a romance party and it’s not even the kind with the shaft and balls, it’s just a vibrating ring I can wear on my finger. Honestly I probably won’t even use it.

I’m going to Google horny lucid dreaming, hold on….

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

It’s now a lot of days later……too many days later.  Work has me all knotted up these days.  I’m posting this now or I’ll never post it.

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The Gentle Rumbling Rambles of a Babbling Blog

I’m laying on an $850 dollar PEMF mat made out of a bunch of small semi-precious stones.  27 pounds worth of semi-preciousness and 6 more pounds of technical equipment that I can’t begin to understand.

I feel like one of those rich people that buys shit just because they can.

Here’s the exact PEMF mat I bought

It’s the heating element that I don’t understand.  I can crank this baby up full blast, I think it get’s to be around 150 degree’s.  But when I place my hand on it, it only feels lukewarm to the touch.  However, when I lay my entire body on it…..holy shit that’s freaking hot!  I started to sweat my balls off and I don’t even have balls!

I felt the heat in my bones and in my blood.  My entire body covered in immense heat.  My pajama bottoms were getting damp and that never happens, not even when I work out.

I’ve been laying on this thing since I got home at 4:30 and now it’s 11:27.

Anyway, aside from this ridiculously expensive heat mat, I wanted to write about my new business again.  I want to calculate the absolute lowest amount of money I have to make a day in order to break even.

Let’s say rent is $500, internet is what?  $40?  Tracfones are crazy cheap but let’s say $60 a month for two of them.  And that’s it.  Those are my expenses.  $600 a month.  Now, how many clients do I need a day to reach $600 a month…..

600 divided by 30 days is $20 a day.  I need 3 45-minute birthday massages a day, or one 45-minute birthday massage and one 75-minute birthday massage a day, or one coupon client a day.

If I have one coupon client a day, that’s $38.75 a day X 30 days is $1162.50 minus $600 is $562.50.

When I run the numbers this way, things look a bit grim.  Shit.  It’s possible I won’t break even for at least 4 months, and instead, paying out my teeth for this new place.  I already spent over $1000 on it and it’s still the very beginning phase.

The current business I have now, we get a TON of the same people booking every month.  Today alone, we had 5 – would’ve been 6 but one cancelled.  The one that cancelled has been with me since day one at my first stink-hole office.

If I can get my new business to have these same numbers, well, I’d be stinking rich is what.

But the therapists I’m hiring aren’t me.  I hate to say it but I’m freaking special.  I really REALLY hate to say it.  And everybody would equally hate to hear me say it.  As soon as I say it, my specialness is gone and now I’m the opposite of special, but more like hated.  Hated in a special way.  Envy is probably the worst kind of hate.  It’s why wars are started!  All war!

Envy is equal to lack of power and when acting on this lack of power, destruction falls in your wake.  You may win and get to write the history books, but you’ll always be miserable because you’ll never be self-sufficient, but always dependent on someone or something.

Narcissists are the most envious people there are.  Take take need need.

I’m rambling.

Go on, hate me for thinking that I’m special.  I’d do it too.  I hate when people say that.  Mostly out of annoyance rather than envy.  Only two or three times did I feel the envy, that’s how I know about this.  I didn’t read about it, I experienced it.  Luckily the disease never latched.

When people talk highly of themselves (or even highly of their kids), it can breed envy.  Why anyone would wish to be envied is beyond my scope of understanding.  Where’s the love in that?

Part of my charm is that I act like a kid.  When I’m being myself, that’s how I act.  But not an immature kid or an emotionally inept person – I act inexperienced, but I’m happy about my inexperience because it means I can only get better and no matter how good I get, I’ll always think of myself as inexperienced.  I’ll always ask questions and respect others opinions and advice.

Come to think of it, my travel buddy, Hana, is the exact same way.  We acted like children together exploring foreign lands but somehow expertly navigated the whole trip by the seat of our pants.  It was fucking awesome.

My personality can best be described by this PEMF infrared heating mat.  I don’t emit heat, I’m cool to the touch, but my heat penetrates deeper than all those other heating mats.  It’s like I’m energy efficient or something.  I only expend myself when needed.  Perhaps this is the origin of my laziness?  I can’t be awesome if I’m not lazy?

God, I hate writing about myself like this.  I really do.  I’m not like that, you know me best, right?  It’s embarrassing is what it is.

But my point is…..I have about 40 clients still coming to my business, all of whom have known me since Massage by Melanie.  My other therapists?  Not even close.  Even after all this time.  Well, Mollie would be the closest.  Then Adonis.  But these clients don’t even get massages by me anymore, they come to my business simply because they like me.

Finding therapists that match my caliber are a rare find.  Trust me, I’ve worked at Massage Envy, known quite a few therapists in my day and very few of them match my caliber of having both skill and likability.

I know what people want.  That’s the trick.  To take myself out of the equation.  My therapist, Mollie, is an expert at this.  She’s not the smartest person I ever met, but she’s a genius at likability.  And now that you know my secret, there’s no need for the envy.

I’m freaking tired.  I’m going to finish watching Future Man on Hulu and hit the hay.

The saying “hit the hay” is literally older than mattresses.

Wow….I just googled the history of mattresses for the last 15-20 minutes.

Oh God I have problems.

 

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Me, Myself and My Heart Condition

A few days ago I wrote about waking up in the middle of the night with a feeling that a diamond replaced my heart.

Yeah well, as it turns out – I think it’s a freaking heart condition!

The diamond lasted for about 3 days and went away after I slept for 12 hours.  I didn’t realize the diamond was a problem until it went away.

My heart takes the brunt of all my stress.  Whether I’m happy, sad or excited – my heart knows what I feel before I do.

All emotion is stress, even the good ones.

When the diamond went away, I couldn’t feel my heart anymore.  It went on pumping in quiet contemplation.  It feels healthier when I don’t know it’s there.  I’m not supposed to feel pangs in my chest or shortness of breath – these things are bad Melanie.  Bad!

I paid off that $5,000 of debt I gave to my lawyer.  I paid it off  sooner than expected, so now I’m squeaking by financially with fingers crossed that I make it.

I need to calm the fuck down.  Calm the fuck down girl.

I can feel the diamond creeping back in.  Like it knows I’m excited.  It’s excited that I’m writing this post!  I’m getting jolts by just typing this!

Okay, I need to change my thought process.  I need to think sleepy time tea.  Milk and honey.  Poppies, puddles, a rainbow reflection. Think sand and wind.

Think about the mantra from the movie, The Men Who Stare at Goats:

Mother Earth, you are my life support system.

As a soldier, I must drink your blue water, live inside your red clay and eat your green skin.

Help me to balance myself as you hold in balance the Earth, the sea and the space environments.

Help me to open my heart, knowing the Universe will feed me.

I pray my boots will always kiss your face and my footsteps match your heartbeat.

Carry my body through space and time.

You are my connection to the Universe and all that comes after.

I am yours and you are mine.

I salute you.

Calm the fuck down Melanie.  Calm the fuck down please.

Why is this happening?   Let’s think about it….My heart feels really dense and constricted….hmm.

I felt my heart unclench a bit as I read “Help me to open my heart, knowing the Universe will feed me.”

I think my newly found heart issue has to do with trust.  I’m scared everything will fall apart.  My heart is clenching like a fist in order to hang onto things.  Like, the minute I turn away and I’m no longer excited, everything will slip away.  I’ll lose focus, make mistakes, lose interest or hope.  My heart doesn’t trust anything that’s happening because it’s never known true happiness or freedom.  All it’s ever known is how to keep its head above water.

I subconsciously want to keep myself excited until my dreams match my reality, than I can relax.  The excitement is a placeholder of sorts.

I need to find a heart opening poem, hold on…

Ugh, it’s all sappy garbage about love.  I have too much love, that’s the problem!  I’m having heart issues because life is amazing and true freedom is obtainable.  But the real issue is that I don’t trust it.

This, I need to work on.  I’ll turn a possible heart condition into heart condition-ing!  You see what I did there?  I added an “ing” at the end.   I’m going to condition my heart into letting go and trusting the universe.  And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll live long enough to see flying cars and teleportation.

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4 Days Until Camino

I leave for my trip in T minus 4 days.

My mind is in shambles.  I’m laying here in bed – so unbelievably fucking comfortable you have no idea.  I’m warm, I’m fed, I’m loved, my life is grand and wonderful these days; I’ve even spoken with my lawyer today about the lawsuit and he says the whole case is stupid.  Literally, he called it stupid.

Him – “It’s a straight forward simple case.  You did nothing wrong and there was no way to prevent any of it from happening.  If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.  You’ll be fine.”

I’ve never had a lawyer before and I’m sure they all say things like “it’ll be just fine” or “don’t worry about it” to their clients but in my case, it rings true.  There were literally no precautions or warning signs that I missed or could’ve foreshadowed.  It was all a roll of the dice.  Shit luck.

This was the first time he told me not to worry though.  Thanks buddy, you could’ve told me that sooner.  Before my mental breakdown and going through the 5 stages of grief hundreds of times over.

Anyhow, I’m truly loving my bed right now.  Oh God I love it.  I love Netflix.  I love doing nothing and this time of night (11pm) is the time I can get away with doing nothing.  I have a big plate of nothing all to myself.

So why’s my mind in shambles?

I had a long-ass summer.  It ended with me having to house sit two dogs and a cat for 10 days.  I just got home, when was it?  Yesterday?  I don’t know.  But during those 10 days I was up at the ass crack of dawn letting those dogs out to pee.  And at night, they had to sleep with me.  They taken up the whole bed to where I was sleeping horizontal on the mattress.  I’d wake up in the morning cranky as hell.  They’d wake me up with a paw to the face.

Both dogs like to lick.  They lick your face, your pants, your eyeballs, inside your mouth….etc.  One day as I was exiting the shower, I walked over to the bed where my clothes lay spewed out everywhere and there were the dogs on the bed with my clothes.  Both of them, at the same time, decided to lick my naked nipples.  Each of my nipples had a dog attached to it.

I felt so grossed out, I felt violated.  I just wanted to get dressed.  That’s all that I wanted.  But instead, there I was cold, wet, and had two dogs sucking at my teats.

I love home.  I love it so freaking much.  I want to stay here and hunker down for a while.  I want to be alone in a bunker.  But this can’t be, it’s not in the stars.  I leave in 4 days to go someplace opposite of being home, comfortable, well fed and feeling stunningly fantastic.  I’m going on a 35 day torture hike across Spain to lose weight.  To lose weight!  So I’m not one of the first to go during the zombie apocalypse.  I’d be able to run goddammit.

Whoever says it’s fun is full of shit.

I think I need to see a therapist.  I have a few friends who see therapists, so why shouldn’t I?  The major issue’s I want to address is my laziness and my lack of caring what people think of me.

Now, most people would say that that’s wonderful – it’s great and liberating to not care what others think but they’re wrong.  So way off the mark wrong.

Firstly, I don’t engage with people anymore.  I don’t care enough to engage with them.  I don’t care enough to, well, care about them.  Why?  Because I was a huge engager in the past and everyday the more I engaged, the more people expected it.  At the end of the day, none of it mattered.  No matter what I did, it was never permanently good enough and when it was good enough, the next day I had to be even better.

I went the other way.  It’s not that I don’t care exactly, it’s more like I stopped trying.  I don’t try with people anymore.  My office manager pointed this out to me last night over a few pints.  I pointed it out to myself about a month or so ago.

As far as the laziness goes…..”how the hell can you be lazy and walk across Spain then?”  Is what you’re thinking.  The thing with that is, laziness is a privilege.  Laziness is not just about laying around, it’s a mind-set.  It’s a mind-set of complete and utter ease.  No worries.  No responsibilities.  Just freedom of all problems.

My type of laziness, the kind I’m talking about, it’s my personal drug of choice.  And it’s addicting as hell.  It’s better than anything else out there on the market.  Not even beer can hold a candle to it.

Basically, I can’t be both fat and lazy.  They cancel each other out.  I won’t feel completely at ease again until I lose at least 25 pounds.  Hence, the Camino and why I have to walk it (again).

If everyone experienced the same type of laziness that I experience, everyone in the world would be their own boss, have a clean conscience and stay healthy.  Having a clean conscience also affects how well I can rest and relax.  All vexes must be aired out and all foibles on my part must be atoned for.

Delicious laziness to extreem.  Extreem power resting.  Angelic homeostasis.  Until I start trying with people and it all goes to shit when it’s never enough.  Best to stay under the radar.

I’d tell these things to my shrink but what good will it do?

Does everyone experience the same type of lazy bliss?  The same natural habitat of my resting mind?  It’s my home base.  The place I can always return to once all else is settled.  To take my bra off and let the pups lick my nips….no.  That’s disgusting.

But you know what I mean?  A place where I can’t be hurt.  Not by myself nor by any others.

I don’t think people grasp it the same way I do.  They either don’t get it or decided to live a lie – a lie they reason with as being their only viable option.

I downloaded 18 audiobooks for my 500 mile journey.  If the actual walk doesn’t change me, I’m sure one of those books will.  My goal is to want to try again with people.  But this time, I’ll make it enough for me and not care if it’s not enough for them.  That’ll be my emotional goal this time around but my main focus is losing 25 pounds.

I don’t need a therapist, just give me a pen and paper.

 

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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.

 

 

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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.

 

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