Category Archives: rant

“Atman is Brahman” and I Fired an Employee! All in todays topic of Melanieslifeonline

I’m beyond prostrated.  Debilitated, wasted, spent, and bleary-eyed.

I’ve been running around jagged this month and even got myself an exhaustion head cold.

Yesterday I fired an employee for driving me crazy.





That stuff she wrote about not being able to change her schedule is bullshit.  And I never picked up or stolen her hours – I don’t want to work!  I haven’t been on the schedule for probably a year now.  She is literally crazy and delusional and I mean that in kind, not being mean here.

It felt good firing her though, ain’t gonna lie.  She texted me every 5 minutes since she started working for me and honestly I’m surprised I let her stay for as long as I did.  She called one of my favorite clients evil!  She openly admitted to stealing from her other job!  Not to mention clients don’t like her, my employee’s don’t like her.

She’s an indépendant contractor, so I don’t have to worry about any repercussions.

Today is my first day off in what feels like forever.  A day off where I have nothing planned.  A day off where I don’t have paperwork or “to do” lists.  These are the days I live for and hopefully in time, will be all that is left.

I’ve been sitting on a blog post for a while now.  One that I wanted to write about so bad but couldn’t find the time.

After I ate that psychedelic taffy, I went on a hippie forum to investigate other people’s experience with the “oneness” and read a post from a man who mentioned “Atman is Brahman.”

It’s Hindu, of course.  The closest religion to truth.

Atman is another word for soul.  We all have an Atman including animals and plants.

Brahman is “world soul” or “cosmic soul.”  Basically, what we think God is.  It is timeless, eternal, omniscient, and controls the show.

Hindu’s believe that Atman is Brahman.  They are indistinguishable.  But our individual selves can be sheathed in a veil, one that see’s hatred, envy, and fear.  We separate ourselves from the divine, and not the other way around.  Most organized religions separate us from the divine as a way to label and judge lesser people, or “evil” people.  Without those evil people, saints wouldn’t exist.  And without that separation, religions would be less permissible to kill for their beliefs.

The Us vs Them mentality makes us feel united and protected in an extended family of peers that share the same belief.  To stave off feeling alone and meaningless.

But with Hindu, they greet others with Namaste which means “the divine in me recognized the divine in you.”

My grandpa used to live in a cottage in Rhode Island and his neighbors are basically like family to us.  One of his neighbors has a son that my brother hung out with yesterday.  This man has DMT, the god molecule or whatever they’re calling it.  He smoked it and was taken out of his body (the son, not my brother).  But I think this is my next step into learning more.  I need to meet this guy.  According to my bro, me and him make a good match.  The guy sounds exactly like me.

I’m not looking to date, but I’m definitely interested in what he’s peddling.

“Atman is Brahman” is exactly what I experienced with the taffy.  I always intuitively known it to be true, but this was the first time I really understood it.  On an experience kind of level.

Why is all this stuff important to me?  I’ve always searched for answers since I was a kid and never understood how anyone can go about their lives, living day to day without knowing what the point is.

Me as a child – “You work and live in a box with other people working and living in boxes next to you.  Why?  Don’t you care why?”

It scared me that they didn’t care.  I understood that they were just too busy to care.  I promised myself at a young age to never get trapped.  I know it sounds like bullshit, but I swear to the gods that I remember it like yesterday.  “Never get trapped Mel, don’t become them.”

Okay, enough on that.  Explaining to you why I am how I am is not important and makes for a shitty read.


I love superpositions!  I first learned about them when I was 18 and attempted to read “An Elegant Universe” by Brian Green.  I had to read it over and over again because my brain couldn’t comprehend it.

Basically, any subatomic particle such as photons, electrons and atoms, exist in a superposition state until they are witnessed.  The “witnessing” is called Decoherence.  And Superposition means to exist in all possible infinite locations at the same time.

Basically the world acts crazy while you’re not watching it but as soon as you turn around to look, it goes back to normal.  Like the toys in Toy Story 2.

Is it only human conscious that can decohere particles or can machines do it to?  Apparently machines can also do it, which means our world can still exist if the AI’s in Battlestar Gallactica win.  Physical reality won’t disintegrate and fly off into space as long as machines are here to decohere the subatomic particles.

Which makes me wonder, if Atman really is Brahman, how can machines possess our unique ability to measure the unmeasurable?  Shouldn’t that just be the Atman’s job?  Or should we factor in the superposition of time itself?  If time is superimposed, maybe it knew we were watching the whole time, or will watch it?

Or we can approach this a bit more scientifically and note that these machines, in order to detect and measure a superimposed particle, has to bounce photons off the wave particle thereby breaking down its wave function and rendering it to particle form.  So, both humans and machines can decohere probable objects into spacetime reality.

There’s another cool example about superpositioned particles…..

If you have two identical particles that were nurtured in identical environments and then try to measure them, they won’t be identical anymore.  Because they existed in the smeared superposition world of empty possibilities, when measured, they were forced to become, to “choose”(if you will), one thing to be.  Even though they should’ve been identical, they weren’t.  They had to make a choice to become something.

Which enforces my theorem of all of us having a choice.  We are not a product of our environment.  But if subatomic particles can choose to be something, than is there a limit on what can possess an atman?  Can individual subatomic particles also contain their very own atman?  Albeit tiny and obscure?  If so, why?

It’s like looking into a fractal, you know?  There’s the Brahman, the big guy, then when you zoom in and keep going down and down, you see all the little facets getting smaller and smaller, never ending.  It that the Atman?  Never ending?  If so, where am I?  Is it like a pyramid scheme?  All the little subatomic Atmans obeying me?  Not being in existence without me viewing them?  But then again, I wouldn’t be in existence without them either.  If this really is a fractal world we’re in, I’m made up of those tiny Atmans.

It’s fun to think about this stuff on my day off.  But I’m running out of steam and thinking about grabbing something to eat and spending the rest of the day in front of my video game.

But I do have to say, particles and waves are like people.  Particle people see what’s there while wave people see the possibilities.  Hokey?  Yeah, I thought so too.  But if you combine the two, magic happens.

I thought up an excellent idea for a new book.  It’s called “When God Visits a Shrink…”  It’s about a regular guy who goes to a shrink after winning the lotto because he’s suffering from delusions of grandeur and is scared that his thoughts alone can wreak havoc on the world.  He’s becoming paranoid and panicked.  He’s diagnosed with solipsism syndrome, but as the story progresses, I’ll include all my philosophical idea’s that I learned from ayahuasca and the pot taffy.  And it’ll read like one of my debates with Rational Brain.

There’s an old iconic philosopher, I forgot who, Socrates or Plato or one of them guys, who said the best way into philosophizing is through debate.  The best idea’s are brought forth in a question and answer format.  The idea of God going to a shrink is the perfect scenario for one of these types of discussions!  I’m really juiced up about it.

My parents just came home.  It’s 4PM and I’m laying in bed in my pajama’s.  They brought home chicken.  Yum chicken!  I haven’t eaten all day.

Anyway, Trat Tvam Asi and all that jazz, I really need to zone for the rest of the day with my big bucket of chicken and game controller.

At first I was curious.  Curious to know more about reality and why we’re here, but now I’m just trying to get one up on the universe, you know?  Now that I got a glimpse of it.  If I had more days like this, once I get my fill of relaxing and laying about, and write my fill of the garbage that’s in my head – I want to one up the universe.  Experience a little slice of magic.

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Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, rant

This Poor Boring S.O.B

My employee shortened her hours so now she gets out before 6PM everyday.  FML.

So I’m taking her nightly clients that would otherwise be hers.  I’m saving about $400 a month in doing so, but is it worth the effort?

It’s like I’m not in the business of making money.  I’m in the saving money business, not making.  That’s what it feels like.

Oh shit I spent all day thinking it was Friday and it’s only Thursday!  I have a weekly client that comes in every Friday and he came in today instead.  Threw me all off.  My life is so boring right now that yes, this was worth a mention.

Still though, the only thing I can think about these days is my debt.

I told you I was $40,000 deep, but I’m actually $50,000.  I added it all up at the end of last month and yeah, $50 grand total.

Everything would be fantastic money-wise, otherwise.  I’d have enough to buy a decent size house in a nice neighborhood if I really saved up for it.

The build-up of interest for $50,000 of debt is incalculable.  Well, it’s calculable but I haven’t tallied that number up yet.  Paying off one bill at a time is the only option if I want to get out of this mess.  Spreading it out to pay them down all at once would be a mistake.  It’ll never happen in my lifetime.

Let’s say I’m paying 15% interest on $50,000 a month.  That’s $7500 extra I’m paying a month.  I’m not actually paying that much in interest, but as you can see, impossible to pay off even if it’s only $2000 of interest.  This is why my debt isn’t going  down.  Even though I spend thousands a month towards it.

Don’t feel bad for me though, I have a plan to pay it off in a timely manner.  One bill at a time.  This time next month I’ll be $45,000 in debt and 15% of that is only 6,750.

By June I’ll be $40,000 in debt.  That’s my goal at least.  Then it snowballs from there.  Like domino’s.


It’s a couple days later.  My back is killing me.

Are we seriously voting Trump into office?  He reminds me of Biff from Back to the Future.  In the second movie when billionaire Biff turned Marty McFly’s hometown into a casino, gang infested heavy metal slum.

“This is the future?  Aw no no no DOC!”  Marty looks at his watch.  Grabs for his hover board.

Trump will declare war on ISIS by proclaiming he will kill one-by-one all of their family members.

Trump – “They want the rest of the world to die but not their own family.  That’s where we get them.”

This is true, he actually said that.

ISIS will bomb us days after the election.  The states will turn into an ash heap of history.

Trump will try to rebuild America the best way he know’s how.  Through a maligned infrastructure with making money at its top.

Casino’s and high-rises abound.  Drugs and loose women making babies.

Abortion will be illegal, so the unwanted babies will grow up spreading terror and vandalism as has happened in documented factual history according to Freakanomics.

Then the trump casino’s will go bankrupt and America dries up like an old coal miners ghost town.  The casino/drug/unwanted babies will turn into warlords fighting for resources.  Cell phones and electricity a thing of the past.  Rape, more babies, starvation.

China will swoop in to save us from ourselves while Mexicans climb over the Trump wall into the states to clean our filthy war torn land.

There you have it.  Mexico and China will be our saviors.  They will call our new country Mexina, or Chinexico.

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Filed under journal, Politics, rant

Killing It

My business is killing it lately.  I’m making more money than ever before (making, not keeping).  I’m averaging over $1000 a week, plus $7000 a month from members which brings me to roughly $12000 a month in sales.

And since we’re no longer selling groupons, our schedule isn’t clogged with non-paying clients.  Each client is a golden ticket client.

The only problem with this is that my employee’s aren’t getting booked as often as before.  Some days, many days actually, a few of them don’t have any at all.

Yesterday for example, we had 7 clients booked between 6 people working.  I took two of those 7 because they were requests, one employee didn’t have any.  I made $300 bucks and I’ll get to keep most of it since my employee’s hardly worked that day.

Today I made $400.

The business is totally successful, more successful than it’s ever been but…..I’m swamped in debt and can’t keep up.  I’m swamped in debt because of the mistakes I made over the summer and instead of fixing my mistakes, I taken out loans.  Then I taken out more loans.

And when I was selling groupons, I hired an extra person to help redeem them all which only sunk me further into groupon debt but now that I’m free of it, I have way too many people working for me and none of them want to quit.  For two years nobody wanted to quit.  But I’m getting to a point where they might.

So, I’m going to make a radical decision that would probably make you want to slap me upside da head.

Sell more groupons.

This will solve ALL my problems!!

Wait!  Wait, just listen.

Why don’t I just let my employee’s quit?  Because clients like who they like and if their favorite therapist leaves, they’ll take their business with them.  I don’t want my employee’s going anywhere.

I’m not going to sell regular massages on groupon for $39 bucks a pop, no.  I’ll be selling couple’s massages only.  Couples massages are less likely to be weirdo’s and more likely to sign up for the membership.  And I’ll sell upgraded couples massages that include hand, foot, and face treatments.  An extra $12 for each treatment which will add $72 to the over-all price.

Let’s do the math to see if it’s worth it…

$150 for a regular couples massage, plus $72 is $222.  Groupon will sell them for $111 and I’ll not settle for anything less than $60 for each one they sell.  I’ll make a profit of $20, add more potential members to our client database and not only that, but I’ll only sell 300 of them in one month and end it there.  No groupon debt.  No clients buying more than one deal for themselves.  The perfect plan.

Think about it.  300 groupons times $60 is $18,000.  It’ll completely wipe out most of my debt!  My employee’s will be booked again.  And I’ll get more members!

I have to do this.  No no, I MUST do this.

I’ll sit and answer phones and book myself as much as I can with these couples massages because there will be enough to go around for everyone for at least the first month, then it tapers off.

It’s my cure for everything.  Groupon has always been my cure for everything.  But at the same time, I hate Groupon.  Groupon leaves me in ruins.  That’s because I was doing it wrong all this time.


Filed under rant, work

My Niece Told Me She’s a Lesbian

And I literally had no emotional reaction.

You – “If you had no emotional reaction, than why are you writing about it?”

Moments after I realized that I had no emotional reaction, I felt I should write about my non-reaction.

So here I am writing about it.  There it is.

In other news, I’m incredibly over-whelmed.  I just want to sleep or throw up.  I want to cry.  I’m fantasizing about the relief that the apocalypse might bring.  None of this has anything to do with my niece’s sexuality.  I’m actually kinda relieved she won’t get pregnant too young, suffer from STD’s, or seek unnecessary validation/approval from men.  It’s kind of a blessing if you really think about it.

No, I’m overwhelmed with other things.  When will it stop…….

My most pressing concern is of course Anthony, and the possibility of getting sued for what he done over the summer.  I haven’t wrote about what happened because it went public, locally viral actually, and the story is out there for anyone to read.  I just want to remain an anonymous blogger who gets 6 hits a day and if I told you what happened, you can easily look me up and connect the dots.

I started thinking about him again two or three days ago when my new landlord asked for proof of insurance and I had to visit my high school friend who doubles as my insurance agent to purchase yet another insurance policy.  It drudged up those bad thoughts.  Wondering if my insurance can cover it.  Wondering if I’ll lose everything and I’ll have to pay for the rest of my life.

Insurance Agent – “You’re covered with workman’s comp through a different agency?”

Me – “Yeah….”

Me thinking – “I have to be insured for that?  Don’t my taxes cover it?”

My broken armed therapist whom I laid off is collecting and by this summer, I’ll owe over $3000.  I thought the $3000 gets taken care of by the workmen’s comp taxes I pay into.

And I’ve been getting requested to massage a lot lately, we’ve been busy, I have to keep track of clients stuff, email them, text, call them….wash sheets at the laundromat 4 days a week and lug them upstairs two heavy bags at a time.

I still have to fire Kasey, my crappy therapist.  I lost over $2000 by not leasing that first place I looked at, I need to buy a washer and dryer.  My fat jeans are getting tight and a little over a year ago I literally couldn’t wear them because they’d slip right off.

I need to move all my crap into the new place and fix it up nice.

And so yeah, I’m a little freaked out right now.  Why do I want to sleep and throw up all day?  How does that solve anything?  My cousin just died, my Uncle Arty is on the morphine drip on his way out, my other cousin is having 9-hour surgery the same time her father, my Uncle Arty, is dying at home.

I need some serious self help audiobooks right now.

And I’m moving my massage business next to my friends massage business.  We’re going to share the same parking lot, that’s how close we’ll be.  But I have no choice.  There’s no place else and I’ll be saving $800 a month along with an added $300 I spend on washing sheets at the laundromat.

At least I’ll be further away from my brother’s spa….

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The Ormus Among Us

I was cruising Amazon today looking for snake oils and discovered what is called Ormus, aka monoatomic gold, or white gold.  They claim that it induces a kundalini awakened state (whatever that means) while meditating.

It also purports to trigger vivid lucid dreams, out of body experiences, cures disease and emotional disorders.  And if you ingest enough of it, makes your skin all sparkly like the pretty vampires in Twilight.

The crazy thing is, people buy into this!  Gobs of people!  Go on YouTube and you’ll see testimonials, go on Amazon and read the five-star reviews.  There’s even a group of people that believe it is the devils powder, or the illuminate, meant to brainwash and turn us into hermaphrodite zombie slaves.

Here are some posts written by, imo, nutters:

Ormus can also make you hear auditory hallucinations as stated in this article.

“Hindu mystics call these sounds the “nada” and Chinese mystics call them the “hu” sound.”

I actually experienced this!  It’s a sign of bi-polor disorder and schizophrenia!  I haven’t experienced it in a while though.  I haven’t had any crazy dreams either, or an invisible stranger laying next to me.

Everything it purports to do, I’ve already experienced them all.  Even the sparkly skin part.  When I had my OBE and looked at my sparkly translucent arm (and then stuck it in my head to see what would happen).

All my weird experiences  make me feel like a spiritual snob, looking down and shaking my head at anyone wanting in on the action but turning to wacked-out methods and spending honny dolla billz yo.

The best method for obtaining auditory hallucinations, OBE’s, Lucid dreams and all that nonsense is to suffer from massive sleep deprivation and consume copious amounts of alcohol knowing full-well that work tomorrow will invariably suck.

Get no sleep for about a week (due to intense partying followed by work) and then take a nap.  I guarantee that nap will knock your socks off.  You’ll experience all sorts of weird shit.

Aside from my personal method, their method is scientifically implausible.  The first obstacle being that you can’t make the stuff.  You literally can’t make it no matter how hard you try.  The man who invented it formed a patent describing how it’s made, but it’s mostly gibberish and his method was never proven.

But there’s a bunch of YouTube vid’s on how to make it!  And plenty of suppliers on Amazon!

Okay, let’s be rational here.  Why are they even trying to make this stuff in the first place?  To experience some sort of heightened awareness, a super power, and some go as far to say it gives them the ability to teleport (has never been proven tho).

If that’s the case, why not do something that actually works?  Like ayahuasca, smoke some DMT, magic mushrooms, peyote, iboga, yopo.  Hell, even straight up pot has its eye-opening moments.

Why go through all the trouble of trying to make gold using everyday household ingredients and a recipe found on YouTube?  To experience something that I’ve already had my hand in and to be quite honest, it’s not worth the hype.

Well, the OBE with seeing my translucent arm was pretty cool, plus my 2-seconds of emptiness and that other time I experienced 2-seconds of witnessing myself think.  But nothing comes out of having these experiences except personal proof which doesn’t mean a damn thing to anyone aside from myself, and even that doesn’t mean much.

They’re chasing their own tail.  Trying to go after something they already have.

But the whole thing amazes me.  The placebo effect amazes me, denial is amazing, and nobody ever wants to admit when they’re wrong (especially when a ton of money is involved) and they look like complete idiots buying snake oil.

You can tell when you’re in denial when an opinion that opposes your own affects you in such a violent manner that you resort to name calling.


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Filed under journal, rant, Strange & Unusual

Merry Christmess

An old woman lives upstairs at my new business location.  I didn’t hear her make a peep during the first two times I been there, and I haven’t heard her earlier today as I was shooting this video.

But then her son came home…..I hate him.  I hate her son.  Her son ruined my dreams and my future in the short 45 minutes that I’ve known him.

Well, I don’t actually know him, know him.  I’ve never seen or spoke to him, but I could hear him speaking to his mother.

He’s loud, crass, and vulgar.

My world unfurled.  It’s bad enough having second thoughts about moving, but this kid sent me over the edge.

I was quietly listening to my music while taking window measurements, when I heard the son walk in and head upstairs.  I shut off my iPod and walked into the massage room that’s closest to their entryway.

I could hear everything.

Then they got into a heated debate and the son started cursing.

I held up my heavy duty soundproofing blankets to cover the door, but it didn’t help.

Me thinking – “It can’t be helped.  They’re too loud.  I can’t be here.”

I sat and listened some more, I tried holding up the blanket again, turned up relaxing music on my iPhone to see if that would drown them out, but no.  Nothing.

I sat some more and listened.

I wasn’t actually listening, just hearing.  I don’t give a shit about what they were actually saying.  I just wanted to hear how bad the sound was, and it was pretty bad.

I laid with my back to the floor and said, “shit.”

I drove home pissed and wrote my landlord an email explaining to him that I want out.  He quickly called me back.

Here are key points he said (not word for word):

Him – “The son doesn’t live there, he’s just visiting from college.  Just the mother lives there.”

Me – “Does she get a lot of visitors?”

Him – “No.”

Me – “Would I be able to add a contingency to the lease stating that if it get’s too loud, I’ll be able to leave without finishing the lease?”

Him – “Yes, absolutely.  If the place ever becomes an unworkable atmosphere you can definitely opt out of the lease.”

Him – “The mother is moving anyway this summer.  She won’t be there much longer.”

Me thinking – ‘But what if an even louder family moves in?  I would have spent all this money fixing the place up, only to move out.  I’d need to rent the upstairs.’

Me – “How much is the rent upstairs?”

Him – “1250.  It’s really nice.  It’s small, but it’s cute.”

Me thinking – ‘If I’m going to pay the entire rent for the whole house, I might as well own it.’

Me – “Do you have a lease to own option?”

Him – “We do.  We can discuss it on Saturday.  Want to meet with me Saturday and you can meet Kathy?  And I’ll answer all your questions.”

Bottom line is, I can’t do business there if there’s more than one person living upstairs.  I either have to opt out now, or buy the house.  That’s all there is to it.

I kept him on the phone on Christmas Eve.  I wanted to talk more about the lease-to-own possibility and I wanted to make sure he knew in brick and mortar that I can leave if things get loud.


I just read about leasing to own.  It’s crap.  I’m not doing that.  I’ll have to pay market rent and an option fee and a rent premium.  Option fee’s and rent premiums are applied to the equity, but I’d lose all that equity if I don’t get approved for a conventional mortgage in the time allotted on the contract.

Bullshit, what’s the point in that?  I hate gambling.  I hate complicated things and I hate this.

God I hate this.


I decided not to go through with it.  There’s just too much shit to do.  The traffic noise is loud, loud son living upstairs, french doors that don’t block out sound, the facial room doesn’t even have doors.  It’s just too much.  Not worth it.  I wrote the new landlord another email.

You can read it if you like, but it’s long and boring as always.  I hate writing business bullshit.
I got off the phone with you a few hours ago and I thought everything over very thoroughly. The thing is, when Kathy moves out in the summer, there’s going to be another tenant to replace her. And the next tenant may pose a problem for me even if Kathy is quiet as a mouse in the meantime.

I know you said that I’d be able to leave if things get to be too much, but that’s not as easy as it sounds. I would have already invested in the sign, moving everything, buying all the curtains for the sunroom and doors for the kitchen, I’d probably replace the french doors that connect to Kathy’s side with solid core doors to reduce sound. It’s a big investment even if I’m allowed to leave due to noise, I still would have invested a ton.

And I’ll always have that nagging feeling of when the son will be home next. And when Kathy moves out, I’ll be worried about who’s moving in next.

So my idea for that was to rent the upstairs when Kathy moves out. But I’ll be paying $2800 a month for a house without gaining equity, so I might as well buy it then, right?

I looked into leasing to buy, but I’m not a gambler. I’d rather wait to save for a downpayment and get approved for a conventional loan rather than making a bet that I’ll be successful in a certain time-frame or lose everything I put into it. Leasing to own doesn’t sound rational.

So basically what I’m saying is, this location isn’t right for me. I can’t explain it any better than me not being a gambler. It just feels like a gamble. I’ve got cold feet, it’s the first time in my life where I’ve gotten cold feet.

I love the house, love the location, but unfortunately the priority for a massage business is for it to be quiet. And that’s something I can’t easily gamble on. Moving out if it gets too loud is not an option for me since the loss would be too great, and I wouldn’t want to do that to you anyway.

It’s 11pm, and I’ve been thinking this over since I got off the phone with you at 6:30. There’s too many variables, you know? There’s just too many “what if’s?”

If you were seeing things from my end, you’d totally understand. When it comes to clients, I’m a complete control freak and everything needs to be just perfect.

And I’m also a little weary about paying 60% of the house utilities. I have an OCD cousin who washed his hands constantly and taken 14 hour showers – his water bill was astronomical. If I see the bills were super high one month, I’ll probably blame poor Kathy for cranking her heat up and leaving it up for the entirety of winter even though that is highly unlikely, I’d still think that. And I don’t want to think that.

Aside from Kathy’s son, I also noticed the traffic noise. When I first scoped out the place, it didn’t seem that bad and I could remedy it with window plugs but I don’t know….now that I really sat and listened to it, it just seems like too much. My clients won’t be pleased, no matter how pretty the place is.

I’m not going to send you this email yet. I’m going to sleep on it and if I still feel this way in the morning, I’ll send it. By the morning if my mind hasn’t changed, I don’t think it CAN be changed.

No wait, I’m going to send it now. Just in case you might cash my check tomorrow.


So there you have it.

I HAVE to move, but not in there.

And this my friends, is how I spent my Christmess eve.

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A Letter to My Landlord

Old woman wanting a gift certificate – “I want to buy a gift certificate, what do you offer here?”

Me – “We do facials and massage.  Here’s a brochure.”

Old woman – “What kind of massage?”

Me – “Just a general massage, swedish or deep tissue, whatever the client needs.”

Old woman – “What kind of massage?”

Oh god……

Me – “We only have one type of massage.”

Old woman – “Yes but what is it?”

Me – “Nothing fancy, just a regular massage.  When people say they’re going to get a massage, that’s where we come in.  We give the massage.”

My esthetician gets up and hides in her facial room pretending to be engrossed in her cell phone.

Old woman – “What’s ray-kee?”

She’s reading through the brochure.

Me – “It’s healing energy.  The practitioner sends healing energy to the client using their hands.”

Old woman – “What is it?  Is it a machine?”

Me – “No, not a machine.”

Old woman – “What room do you do the massage in?  That one?”

She arbitrarily points to the middle room.

Me – “We alternate.  Which ever room is open we use.”

She wanted to buy a gift certificate for her daughter that comes here.  I sold her a $100 gift cert so her daughter can spend it on whatever she wants.

I’m sitting in work.  It’s December 19th and people usually come in unannounced wanting to buy gift certificates.

It’s now December 22.

God I miss blogging.  My life is passing by and I’ll never remember any of it.

I was watching The Last Man on Earth the other day and realized that I would still blog if I was the only person left alive.  If not blog, than keep a regular journal since there would be no internet.

But it’s hard to blog now that I have employee’s who talk to me in-between clients and if I’m not in-between clients, I do other things.  And I vowed never to blog at night due to the insomnia it causes.

Subject change.

I’m loving Christmas.  I mean I LOVE Christmas now more than ever.  Why?  Because of all the damn gift certificate I’m selling.  I sold more of them last year, about $1500 more, but because of what happened last summer, we’re nowhere near to what I should be selling.

But I’m thankful for what we did sell.

My current landlord is giving me a hard time about leaving.  I’m trying to leave a month early and get out of paying rent for the last month on accounts of being a good tenant.  It doesn’t hurt to ask, right?  He agreed to allow me to pay a portion of what I owe, not the whole thing.  But he was a hard-ass about it, saying that I’m finagling my way out of paying out of convenience and not because I’m hard-up.  And he was trying to talk me into staying there indefinitely.  His email was cold and scathed in overt professionalism while I on the other hand wrote him this:  (It’s really long so you can skip over it.)

“I promise I wasn’t asking to leave early out of sheer convenience. I have literally $2000 in my bank account which covers next months rent, but doesn’t cover paying my employee’s 3 times this month. Twice a year they get paid three times a month instead of two. I just figured there would be no harm in asking to be let out early, that’s all.

I’ll lay everything out for you so you understand exactly where I’m at right now.

A few months ago I found this really phenomenal location that comes with a washer & dryer already installed, a facial room, 3 massage rooms and two bathrooms for $500 cheaper in rent. But what’s most important about this new location is the sign. I’ve been approved to have my very own sign, 5 feet wide by 3 feet tall to be placed on a very visible spot in downtown Cheshire. Literally every person in town will see this sign. Not just drive by it unnoticed, but actually see it.

I wanted to snatch this place up before anyone else did. I found it at the end of october and went through the whole process of getting a permit for it which is a lengthy ordeal, but I was fine waiting since my lease wasn’t up until spring. I literally just got approved the day before I asked you to let me out early.

I know exactly what went wrong with the business. I never should have rented the two rooms upstairs, hired an esthetician, let my broken armed therapist answer phones 30 hours a week while she recovered and I definitely never should have hired Anthony to replace her (we lost over half our income because of him). I never should have sold so many groupons. Groupon paid me $3000 a month but now that they’re not paying me anymore, and I still have to somehow massage all these people, basically all the money I made from the business is gone. But they expire next month so I’ll be fine as long as I can make it into next month.

Washing sheets is killing me. I have to lug them to the laundromat and then lug them upstairs to be folded because there’s no other place to do it. I can’t wait for this washer and dryer.

And when it’s super cold out, those windows in the office are like air conditioners when you stand by them. Cold just seeps on through like nothing is there blocking it and we can hear every word said outside like the person is in the room with us. Some guy was talking about anal beads outside the window the other day. And one of the landscapers has a dirty mouth always yelling and swearing.

So I was thinking, I can pay January’s rent, you keep my security deposit for February’s rent, so all you’d be losing is March, plus the $650 for upstairs because the upstairs lease doesn’t end until May, so I guess I’ll owe you $2600 when all’s said and done. If at any chance you can somehow decrease that number, that would help me out a ton. I’ll still probably end up going bankrupt, but it’ll be a chance for me to start new again without making all the mistakes I did this first time around. I’d actually have money right now if not for those mistakes.

Honestly, this move is imperative. My livelihood revolves around this move. There’s too many pro’s and not enough cons in this move. The signage, $500 cheaper, washer and dryer, two bathrooms, a room with a sink for facials, new windows, quieter, no stairs, approved by zoning, getting away from the stigma Anthony caused (a HUGE reason just by itself).

Now I just have to figure out how to finish up my lease without having any bad blood between us. I completely laid everything out for you, my decision to move and what’s in my checking account. I’ll have more money in my checking account once the groupons expire. And I’m very curious to see how well the new location works out with its huge engraved wooden sign out front.

I would’ve waited after my lease was up to move, but I started breaking out in hot sweats thinking about my business being sued over Anthony and decided I needed to act as soon as possible before he’s convicted. I jumped the gun a month or two in advance to save my hide. And even without the Anthony incident, it’s still a good move regardless. He just greased the wheels. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be moving.

It’s absolutely crazy that I’m going through all this crap. I mean it’s nuts! I see a light at the end of the tunnel but I have to go through leaps and bounds to reach it. There’s always an obstacle to overcome. When does it end?

Anyway, I’ll find a way to pay you your money. It’s $2600. Not enough to go crazy over, but not little enough for me not to feel it. It’s not that I don’t want to pay you, but more like I literally can’t. At least, not right now. With the groupons expiring, and moving to a more visible location, I’ll have more wiggle room. I promise you I have no money and this is definitely not a convenience thing. It’s a “I’m sinking fast and need to do something” kind of thing. It’s anything but convenient. I haven’t bullshitted you with anything I swear.

But I’m confident this move will improve my financial situation drastically and I’ll be able to pay you once I’m out. I’ll be able to pay you because potential clients won’t actually be afraid to come to the new place.

I don’t have much say in how much you’d be willing to take off the $2600, it’s all dependent on what you’re willing to part with. But I was a pretty good tenant, wouldn’t you say? I always had that check for you by the first of every month and it never bounced, and I was good to the other tenants and to you and to Debbie. I didn’t destroy the place and I kept it clean. No nicks on the walls or stains on the carpets. I even rented the upstairs when nobody else did. I’m really hoping you weren’t planning on keeping my security deposit from the beginning because of some stipulation I wasn’t aware of.

I’m just in a pickle man, that’s all. But I’ll absolutely do what I can!

Sorry, I like to write long emails. I do it with my employee’s too. They usually like reading them.

Take your time thinking about how much I’ll owe you after January. Especially think about it on Christmas, that’s usually the best time to think about things like this. Something about that holiday brings clarity. Like on the movies the Christmas Carol and it’s a wonderful life, those people had clarity.

Anyway, I should get some sleep.


Ps: I just wanted to remind you that I’m not bullshitting. Absolutely no bullshitting. Not convenient. Absolutely not convenient.”

I’m clearly not professional, I’m too human for that nonsense.  The crumby thing about being a massage therapist is the professionalism.  Clients don’t come back if you’re not professional.  So much of my personality has lifted away these past 10 years from being something that I’m not.

I made a video last time I washed sheets.  It was during a time when my heart was sinking due to the shit ton of money I’ll be needing.

I’m okay now, no sinking feeling.  It’s just that I caught myself in that video having one of my “episodes.”  It doesn’t happen very often anymore because of my “fuck this shit I don’t care anymore” attitude, but now and again I get a glimpse into the fear of losing it all.  Something about having a camera in my face drums up all the crap I keep locked away.  Making eye contact with the camera especially drums it up.

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The Fray

Okay, well, I didn’t go to my book club meeting.  First reason being that they found a human torso across from 300 George street in New Haven – the address where the book club was being held.  Second reason, I wasn’t in the mood.

As insane as it sounds, it was mostly due to the second reason why I didn’t go.

My business made it into August without having to go further into debt so I should feel relieved, right?

Not really, no.  I’m not relieved.  In fact, it seems that this gloom and doom has glued itself in me – sticking to my ribs.  And I can’t get that gruesome image of a human torso out of my head.  It’s muddying up my thoughts.

I’m trying to charge all my member clients.  It’s the most important thing to do on my monthly To Do list.  My livelihood depends entirely on charging those member clients.  But the system keeps acting up and it won’t let me do it and it’s already almost 7 PM.

It’s hard for me to breathe.  I can’t explain this exhaustion.

While the system tries to charge all its members, I’m listening to my new book of the month, The Little Stranger, and it’s scaring the shit out of me.

My Uncle Snooky is having his birthday party today and my Mom really wanted me to be there.  He’s been struggling with health issue’s and both him and my Father lost their best friend a few months ago, so my Mom really wanted me there.

But I can’t breathe.  And I can’t charge my members, I have an image of a bloodied torso in my head, and the exhaustion…..And my new book is scaring the shit out of me!

The anticipation and worry I carried with me into July when I needed an extra $5,000 in the bank, has finally globbed together to form a festering pustule in my chest cavity.  I feel it’s not over yet, the worry.  And now I can’t even charge my freaking members?!

Most things don’t bother me, no, that’s not true.  Everything bothers me.  But as long as I can blame myself for what goes wrong, I feel I’m in control.  I have a handle on things.  But when somethings not in my control, that’s when I want to bury my head and struggle to breathe.

If the system doesn’t fix itself by tomorrow, I’m going to have to manually charge all my members one by one.  I tried fixing it through support but they claim it’s happening due to high volumes.  There’s nothing they can do.

I’m going to look back on this month and let out a big sigh of relief knowing that I’ll never have to worry like this ever again.  That it was all part of the journey.  And I’ve learned a lot about hopelessness and how it fucks up my head – that’s a lesson worth learning I tell ya.

Right now, it’s not that I’m feeling hopeless (there is always an answer and a choice), it’s just that I’m tired.  I’m literally miserable.  I have a heavy heart but you know what’s crazy?  Once I finally charge these bastard members (which will happen whether or not I have to do it one by one), I’ll feel this cinder block rise off my chest.

Something so small and simple as this – something that can easily be remedied – has this much power over me simply because I’m fed up with this shit.  So freaking fed up.  My pockets are coughing up their insides and my work pants look like I’ve worn them for years alone stranded on a deserted island.  I have to roll them up to my calves to hide the fray.

The upside is, we’re busy.  Clients are loving us.  My new therapist is a godsend and because of her, we’re not completely booked two weeks out in advance.

And I have a few marketing ideas to boost membership sales.

I don’t know if it’s stress or what it is, but I swear I have some kind of benevolent force helping me.  I’ve come close to the edge before (never quite like this), but each time I gotten close, something miraculous would happen at the last minute before impact.

It’s just that it happened so many times already that I can’t help take notice, or it may just be wishful thinking, stress, schizophrenia, I don’t know.

I feel horrible about not going to Uncle Snook’s birthday party, I really do.  But they asked me yesterday at like, 8 o’clock at night.

I’m not happy and when I’m not happy, I don’t want to see or be seen by others.  And I really am tired.

I can’t wait until the day comes when I can look back on all this.  Seriously, I think it’s bad for my heart.

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What the hell do I call this?

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


Click the pic to see inside!

I feel that a floating city is more my style.


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


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

Anti Massage Envy activists should not be underestimated.

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

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


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


I need to drive to Wethersfield to pick up a massage table that an old friend doesn’t want anymore and finish furnishing the room upstairs.  And do payroll.

I HATE doing payroll.  Doing payroll is like homework, only you’re not gaining anything but losing thousands of dollars.  And I have trouble sitting still long enough to do it.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crazy unconscious associations.

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

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

Or maybe I’m making more irrational associations?

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

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

No, I like the Buddha’s saying better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s also up my ass constantly.

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

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

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

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

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

I hate ultimatums.

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

Real friends accept you, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Annoying.  Annoying annoying!

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

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

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

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

“No!  Go away!”

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

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

I keep six honest…

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

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

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

-Rudyard Kipling

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


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Advice From My Blog

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

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

Etc, ect…

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

It’s not a coincidence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It kinda pisses me off.

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

But I didn’t…..Why didn’t I?

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

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

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

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


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