Category Archives: journal

60 Times Around

The last time I walked the Camino, I cried on my first day.  That’s how hard it was.  The first day especially.

The 10th day was the hardest.  On the 10th day, I hit the wall from not getting enough protein.  I had to rest on the 10th day.  I literally couldn’t move.

I have to walk 25 kilometers on that first day.  Break that down into America’s language, that’s 15 miles.  One mile is 4 times around a track.  4 times 15 is 60.

It’s like walking 60 times around a standard track.  Yesterday I walked 12 times around so, 3 miles.  And my feet started to ache and my left knee cramped up.  On a technologically advance cushioned track with no ups or downs.

I did wear my ankle weights.  Only a pound and a half on each foot.

The thing about walking the track is the boredom.  I forgot how boring walking can be.  And since I already walked the Camino once already – I’ve seen all that stuff, it’s nothing new.  Which only compounds to the boredom I’ll have to face.  I’ll be in pain and I’ll be bored.  At the end of the day I can look forward to a bland simple dinner, not enough to satiate my hunger and on top of that, I’ll be bunking with 300 strangers in a dank gothic style church.  On that first day, there’s no shopping plaza’s or restaurants around for miles.

I have to pack more food.  Extra food for dinner and a little something for the following mornings breakfast – stuff I wish I knew the first time I walked.

15 miles equates to walking from my house to the middle of New Haven, possibly a little further than its middle. It’ll take me at least 8 hours.  It would take me 6 hours without breaks and if the path was completely flat.

I can’t believe I’m walking this shit again just to lose weight.  I hated it the first time.  I loathed it.

I’ve been keeping up with walking every single day.  My stomach looks like it’s slimming down, but I still weigh the same.  And my slim stomach may just be an optical illusion.  My pants don’t feel any looser.

Today I will attempt to hike up my big little mountain with my ankle weights on.  It’s going to be torture.

Leave a comment

Filed under camino de santiago, journal

Just Another Gut Wrenching Normal Day in the Life of Mel

I hardly work, but I still find myself busy every stinking hot sticky day of the week.  I woke up a few days ago and decided I needed to start a food truck business as soon as possible.  I spent hours pouring over any information I could find online.  None of it was in one place.  I wrote down every possible license I’d need, every possible permit and searched for used food trucks on eBay and Craigs list.

I had an insane urge to open a food truck business – an INSANE urge.  A scathing, stressful, eye-popping urge.  Why did I have this toe curling, life or death asphyxiation towards starting a food truck business?  Because I’m broke as shit.  I can’t even cook!

I hired a financial planner, so now I can finally get a sense of how much money I have in the bank.  None.  Zero.  Zilch.  I’m one broke ass bitch.

Last month was quarterly taxes, property taxes, and I bought a plane ticket to Spain.  When I realized the impending financial doom I was facing, I nearly clawed my eyes out.  My answer was to open a food truck.

For at least the last 3 days I was obsessed with this food truck idea.  Every moment was spent on my laptop in my hot musty room frantically pouring over my options.  Did I mention I was stressed?  Oh yes, there was stress.

When I wasn’t stressing about my newest venture, I went hiking up my little big mountain.  I went 3 days in a row and each time I completed it, while I was walking back to my car, I didn’t have that fresh feeling of relief or accomplishment, no, I had the most rueful scowl on my face.

Me – “This is such bullshit.  Fucking bullshit.”

Again, the trail has kicked my ass.  I go almost everyday to hike up that god awful place, risking my precious ankles from rolling or cracking my skull open on a sharp rock (they are everywhere pointing out of the dirt like daggers!)

But it doesn’t matter how many times I attempt it, it’s not getting any easier.  Granted, if it was cooler out it may be a different story.  I don’t know.  I just don’t fucking know.  I can feel those 30 extra pounds every time I walk up that hill and have to take those large steps up the rocks – the same rocks I used to fly up 5 years ago.

Me – “I can never let myself get like this again.  Never again.  I have to diet God dammit.”

And when I’m not doing any of the above activities, I’ve been keeping social and hanging out with friends.  Seriously, who has time to work?  I’m freaking exhausted!

Tomorrow I’m stopping in at work to check the phones since my office manager isn’t there on the weekend, then hike up my big little mountain, stop at the grocery store for a snack to bring to my friends cabaret play later that day.  It would be wise to not shower in the morning and to wait until after my hike.  I hate showing twice in one day.  I never needed to before, when I was 30 pounds lighter.  I never sweat like I do now.

I keep fantasizing about how awesome I’ll look after walking across Spain.  Not just look, I don’t care how I look.  But I feel like a lazy fat shit is what it is.  I want to feel better.

I’m trying to amp myself up for the Camino by listening to audiobooks about trekking.  Right now I’m listening to Wild by Cheryl Strayed and it’s depressing the shit out of me.  Much of it is about her having to deal with the loss of her mother – something I never want to think about or deal with ever in my life.  The book is too wishy-washy and makes me miserable.  I cried while listening to it during my hike today.  That’s not invigorating.

Can you imagine seeing a 170 pound woman with a beat red face, sweating her balls off while crying into her water bottle and meandering through the woods alone?  That was me today.  Go on, try to picture it, I’ll wait.  It’s a sad sight, see what I mean?  Now picture me trying to hoist myself up over the rocks with my fat ass.  Go on, picture it.

But the book did end up amping me up for the Camino.  So much so that I want to go on another pilgrimage in March to Shikoku island in Japan.  That one is much more expensive than the Camino but only if I stay at Minshuku’s, paid accommodations, everyday.  They have free places for Henro’s (pilgrims), but you should call in advance for them and if you don’t know Japanese, you’re SOL.  The biggest shit stick about trekking Shikoku is having to call accommodations in advance.  At most, Shikoku will cost me $100 a day for 60 days, so $6000.  The Camino costs $2000 for 40 days.

Damn, it’s already midnight.  I’m going to watch the season finale of Fear the Walking Dead and go to sleep.  Damn damn, I forgot I need to buy lotion for the business – there goes another $100 freaking dollars.

Leave a comment

Filed under camino de santiago, journal

Laying Around and Buying Shit on Amazon

That’s what makes America great!

It was too hot to hike, so I laid in bed listening to Awaken Online: Catharsis, an audiobook that got really good reviews on Audible.  I Love it.

And I bought shit online.

One such thing that I bought is my plane ticket to Spain.  I decided to buy it now because I was worried the price would go up.  It cost $566 which ain’t bad I guess.

I bought a round-trip ticket to Santiago, that’s where my walk ends.  I can bus it to the airport in less than an hour for my flight home.  No fuss, no muss.

On the way there, however, I have a layover in Madrid which works out perfectly since I can hop out at Madrid and take a domestic flight to St Jean Pied de Port for $66.  I found a small airport next to St Jean Pied de Port, I swear that airport wasn’t there last time I hiked the Camino.

I’m already dreading it…..the hike.  I leave October 10th and come home November 19th which leaves me with plenty of time to complete it.  It just sucks, having to do it again.

Okay, we all know how lazy I am, right?  I’m fucking lazy.  I worked today for a total of 20 minutes and for the rest of the day?  Nada.  I woke up at 12 noon and listened to my audiobook for about 8 hours.  After the 8 hours, I bought a plane ticket to Spain so I don’t have to exercise or diet on a regular basis.  I can lose the weight all at once in one month.

I’m too lazy to exercise so I’m hiking 500 miles across Spain.  That makes about as much sense as me starting my own business because I don’t want to work anymore.

I’m accomplishing more as a lazy person than I’d ever hope to accomplish as a productive one, that is, aside from having babies and getting married.  You either do or you don’t with those things, there’s no in-between.  You can’t push a baby back into your uterus and I believe in only getting married once, otherwise, what’s the point?  It’ll be like dating with a shared bank account.  No thank you.

My Aunt Marie died Monday morning.  If they did an autopsy, it would conclude she died from a drug overdose that the hospice kept pumping in her.  She would’ve had a few more weeks, if not months – years even, if not for all those meds.  But she couldn’t live with the pain.

These next two days are going to be hard.  Wake and the funeral split up in two days.

She’s why I’m hiking the Camino again, really.  Life’s too short.

Leave a comment

Filed under camino de santiago, journal

I Slept Until 1:30PM

Shit……I just woke up.

I had bad dreams today.  I can’t remember the specifics, but they weren’t good.

I always dream of vibrant colorful aquariums filled with beautiful exotic fish and today that aquarium shattered and cut up my hands as I tried repairing it.  That’s the only dream I can really remember.

My Aunt Marie got diagnosed with terminal cancer and now she’s at a hospice center in Branford overlooking the water.  She’s on so much medication that she can no longer speak and when she does, it doesn’t make any sense.  When I was there, they shot her up with two vials of something.  One was for anti-anxiety and the other was for pain.

It’s crazy how all this happened.  The steps leading up to it.  She was turned away 3 times by doctors telling her the pain was all in her head, until the 4th doctor told her she has 6 weeks to live.

Her daughter is my age, Christina.  Her only child.  Her husband died in the 80’s.

We have a huge family.  Yesterday I met two cousins I didn’t even know I had.  And last Friday there were over 20 of us visiting her in her hospital room.  But it’s still not enough.  We all went back to our normal routines after our visit, figuring out the next time (if) we can make it, while Christina is there everyday.  All she really has is her daughter.  No one else will be there to go through her belongings once she’s gone, or know what to do with everything, Christina is alone in it.  No siblings and no more parents – completely alone.

It’s my job as an awesome person to make sure she never feels that way.

Yesterday during my visit, my cousin and I took a walk outside the hospice to gaze at the ocean.  It’s there where she told me everything.  My Aunts best friend from high school, Joan, stopped talking to her 5 years ago because my aunt had trouble getting around.  So Joan dumped her for someone who could get around.  She completely cut her out of her life with no explanation.

Christina – “She broke my mom’s heart.  She never been the same after that.”

Me – “You’d think by that age people learn a little compassion.”

I know Joan.  I used to work with her at a restaurant in Meriden.  I always considered her weird.  Always busy, no time for deep conversations, shallow really.  She was always focused on the next big thing.  Nothing seemed to sink in when you spoke to her.

I know exactly how it feels when a friend leaves you for no apparent reason other than them not needing you anymore.  They become aggressively indifferent towards only you.  It’s probably in the top 5 worst pains a person goes through.

My Aunt became increasingly depressed as she got older and needed to see a shrink.

Christina – “She’s been suffering long before she got her diagnosis.”

The old woman sharing a room with my aunt is 94 years old.  A whole 24 years older than my aunt.  If my aunt wasn’t so depressed all these years, she would have another 24 years to go.  But 24 years of what?  Of more depression?  More suffering?

Depression…..if you seen my life up until these past few months, you’d say I had every right to be depressed.  People would see why and understand.  But it never quite got a hold of me.  Rational Brain would call me a pussy, a cry baby.

Rational Brain – “Don’t wuss out on life you pansy.”

Sure I got lost a bit in that whimsical world of spirituality, where broken hearts go to get restored (clearly you can see those days if you scroll back a few years in my blog).

But I got up, dusted myself off, and focused all my efforts into a goal and dreamed of a better future for myself.  That’s the trick right there.  And now I’m living in that better future and life is wonderful these days.  And now I have more goals, and an even brighter future than this one.

As for the p90X goes……I made it to day 2.  Day TWO!!!!  Before succumbing to summer mojito’s, parties and hangovers.  And then this thing with my aunt….

I decided it’ll be a hell of a lot easier for me to just walk the damn fucking Camino again.  Even though it sucks, it’s hell, it’ll be easier in a way.  I won’t be distracted by Netflix or sleeping late.  And I have everything I need for my trip.  I don’t need to buy anything.  The only thing I really need is a travel fork since the one I got is rusty.  And one more pair of travel undies.

Last time I walked the Camino, I did it on one pair of underwear.  My spare pair got stolen on the first day.

A huge reason why my aunt was so depressed was because of her health.  She’s obese and can no longer exercise even if she tried.  I’m vowing to never get like that.  That’s why I have to do this now.  I have to do it now before I start working again to save for a house.  I never exercise when I’m loaded up with clients.  It has to happen before then.

And I can’t go balls to the wall with my business, raking in fat stacks, not until this lawsuit is over.  There would be no point to buy a house only to lose it in the end.

I’m shooting for September.  I’ll buy my plane ticket last minute (because of the whole lawsuit fiasco) and fly Royal Moroc airlines.  They are insanely cheap!  I’ll fly straight to Madrid for $400, then hop a plane to Pamplona for $100, then taxi to St Jean Pied De Port.  The whole trip will cost me around $2500.  And I did it all before, I know exactly what I’m in store for and how to prepare for it.

Is losing 20lbs worth $2500 dollars?  Now that’s the real question.  But if I’m going to do it, September is the best time.  And if I don’t do it, I’ll be struggling with this weight for years to come.

If my Aunt Marie decided to walk across Spain at some point in her life, that may have been the turning point for her to keep the weight off and discover how easier life is when you’re healthy and fit.  There wouldn’t be any depression or cancer.  All because of a measly 35 days spent in agony.  I shouldn’t say agony, it can be fun.

My friend wants me to watch her house for two weeks in September, so I’ll have to leave after that.  Shit, she just texted me back.  I won’t be able to leave until October 5th.  Oh well, it gives me more time to save and prepare.

Shit, it’s my friends birthday dinner today.  I have to be there in an hour.  I didn’t even shower yet.  I’m a shitty person sometimes.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under journal

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.

 

1 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