Category Archives: rant

Oh Groupon..

Down a dark deserted hallway

There’s a small windowless room

Where Melanie the Masseuse lies encased in her tomb

Century’s passed since she last uttered a word

Era’s gone by and she has not stirred

She lies there dreaming of a life that once was

Memories are sharp

Digging around with their claws

Being cryogenically frozen in space and time

Her lips and skin blue

Hair matted down like glue

She lays there awake

Her mind never off

She see’s only the darkness behind

an old linen cloth 

The hallway outside brightens and buzzes

The flourescent lights turning on

Her ears perk up

She hushes

“What’s going on?  What’s happening out there?”

Rolling down her cheek is a lonesome frightful tear.

Someone rambles in

her chambers where she lies within

“Hello?  Is someone there?”

Her chin

Quiverin’

“It’s just me your next client.  Do not be alarmed, I’m compliant.

Your clients await you, they’re filing in by the masses.

So get up my dear friend, 

Get up and massage 400 asses.”

I’m waiting for my next client.  It’s 11:09.  She’s late.  Damn.  I hate calling people.  I’ll wait until 11:15, than I’ll call her.

I wrote that ode in the 20 minutes I’ve been sitting here waiting.

Tick tock

Tick tock

Sonuva…

It’s a dark rainy day here on October 12th

It’s payday from Groupon

Now aint that just swell – th

I like getting money instead of waiting in the dark

Being frozen in time, eating up minutes like a shark

Ahhh What am I saying?

Shit where is this lady.

It’s not a lady, it’s a man and I got his voice mail.  This is not good.  I need to be fully booked everyday 6 days a week cause you know why?  You want to know why?  Because I’m pretty much screwed in the ass otherwise.

I’m not just massaging 400 asses – it’s a lot more than that.  A shit ton more.

Groupon wanted to sell a package deal – buy 3 massages for $100.  I get $17.50 a massage plus tip, so I said sure sounds great.

Besides, most people will opt for the one hour.  Buying 3 sessions to get a rub down by someone you don’t know is highly unlikely.  Well, Groupon took it upon themselves to “sell out” of the 60 and 90 minute massage options.  How can you sell out of massages?

I found this out from two of my clients.

“Really?  I had no idea they did that.  How would I sell out of massages?”

So last night I looked online and saw how many of the package deals I sold.  I want to cry.  I want to cry, weep, wither and die.  I want to stick Groupon with a sharp pointy stick in their eye.

I sold 200 of the buy 3 deal.  200!  200 X 3 = well, you do the math.  I have to give 800 massages within the next 5 months.  Break that down day by day that’s 5 clients a day if I work 7 days a week.  5 clients a day, and then I’m getting repeat full priced clients on top of that.

I’m fuuuuuuucked.  Fucked.  Hence the poem.  I am so freaking out right now.  I’m calling Groupon, screw it.  I’m calling them right now.

Damn I’m on hold.  It’s 11:39.  Let’s see how long it takes for them to pick up.

I feel like I’m going to shit my pants.

I desperately need a desk in here.  My back doesn’t hurt after a day a massaging, it only hurts when I type in my blog.  I’m hunched over with the Mac in my lap.  Ouch.  A tv tray is no desk.  It’s not tall enough.

11:42

What song is this?  Is it supposed to keep me calm?  It’s not working.

11:48.  I just got off the phone with them.   The private sale in now turned off – thank the lord Jesus.  I only had 24 more to sell before reaching 400, but 24 x 3 = Well, you do the math.  I’m bad at it.

I’ll be okay.  Everything will be okay.  I’m making money, this is a good thing.  It’s what I wanted.  And selling on Groupon requires a huge price in advertising, so I’ll be able to deduct my losses as a business expense – I won’t have to pay much at all for taxes next year.

Instead of getting an accountant to deal with everything, I’m learning how to do it all myself.  I studied the different options, weighed the pro’s and con’s and opted for a sole proprietorship.  It’s versatile and also allows for health insurance deductions.   I won’t have to pay a dime in health insurance.  The massage association offers a plan to insured practitioners, so that’s on my to-do list.

Think about it, why pay an accountant when I can take that money and donate it to charity instead and in the process teach myself the in’s and out’s of the tax world.

I bought Turbo Tax software for sole proprietorship from Amazon for $8.  Laziness is the bane of all human existence.  I’m trying to do the opposite.

Damn I need a desk.  Shit yo.

I’m going to read a little and lay on my back on my Spoonk mat.

spoonk mat

Click on the image if you want one.

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It’s either all or nothing

Freud's diagrams from 'The Ego and the Id' (1923)

Freud’s diagrams from ‘The Ego and the Id’ (1923) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The most powerful information I received during my awakening was that giving is everything.  We can not survive on our own, we must help others to help ourselves.  And by helping others, we evolve into higher blessed beings.

GIVING IS EVERYTHING is written several times in my ayahuasca journal.  Strength is beauty, ego is illusion and this world is fantasy.

I haven’t been the same since I got back from Colombia.  Everyday I progress towards my higher self.  With every passing day, I’m finding myself happier and awake.

I give to everyone.  I love and respect everyone.  Everyone needs love.  Everyone deserves respect.  However, I’m not sacrificing myself anymore to feed others false ego’s.  Ego’s are dangerous.  Ego’s cause pain and war. It’s truth’s opposite, opposite of humility and humanity.  Therefore, I tell the truth – all of the truth and nothing I write is an embellishment or falsified in any way.  If I exaggerate anything, writing in my own personal journal for my own benefit, than whats the point of it?  If I’m not honest here, I can’t be honest anywhere.

The girl who had sex with my ex-boyfriend while I was in the next room, read my blog.  Now she’s pissed.  I can’t help the way I view her, it’s what I see until I see different.  And I can’t ignore the times Dave put me in danger.  He shot a gun out of my car window.  Am I exaggerating that?  He shot a gun out my car window, he nearly crashed Amy’s quad that she cherishes, shot off rounds in her old log cabin.  How is this exaggerating?  I’m stating, not telling.

I accepted who she is, I forgave her.  It was a fucked up thing to do to me, but I forgave her.  Nobody’s perfect and I don’t judge others on their faults and mistakes because why bother?  Their shit has nothing to do with me.  And who really cares what I think anyway?  I’m not of brilliant mind, I’m no angel.

But I can’t have impartial friends.  An impartial friend is someone I can’t be myself around, I always have to placate to their needs – to never say how I feel.  No, I can’t have impartial friends.  I tried that with my ex-friends, but I ended up suffering in the long run.  It’s either all or nothing with me.  But by saying how I feel, all the people who claimed to be my friends, turned out not being friends at all.  Just shadows of what a real friend looks like.  Like Plato’s cave allegory, only images having no substance.  The beauty of it is that if they can’t be a real friend to me, then they can’t be a real friend to anybody, so I can’t take it personal.  Not taking it personal is a great relief (at least for my ego).

What is a real friend anyway?

A real friend wouldn’t leave me stranded in a third world country because of her own warped agenda, a real friend wouldn’t sleep with my ex (let alone with me being there to hear the Ohh Ahh sounds [a painful twisting of the knife]), a real friend would always have my back, help me up when I fall (even if I say I’m okay) – a real friend would care.  They would put themselves aside and care about someone other than themselves for even only two minutes.  They have the rest of the day to divulge in themselves, they can’t take 2 minutes away from themselves to feel what it’s like walking in my shoes?

Eh, I don’t care anymore anyway.  Everyone hates me, I’m a martyr that always gets yelled at for something.  I make people see the truth they don’t want to hear and I get crucified.  It’s always me that gets hurt.  Always.  I can handle it – bring it.

This is my blog, what I put in here is for me.  Readers must read at their own risk because what comes out aint always pretty.  If I feel I’ve been wronged, damn skippy it’s going in here.

The raw truth hurts, but here it is.

I’m not candy coating shit.

Whatever new friends I acquire now, will be of a different stock.  Not just the shadows.  As you get older you learn who your true friends are – this is sad news, but gets you in the doorway for something greater.

So anyway, that’s that.  I told people not to read my blog anymore, I told them.  But they insist.  This girl is most likely going to give Dave the link to my blog so he can be rid of me too.  People use me up like a tissue and throw me away when they don’t like the contents that come out of them.  Everyone has gooey grossness on the inside.  I put my own grossness on a pedestal.  My blog is my high horse.

Anyway, what was I saying?  Oh right, giving is everything.  I want to sponsor a child from a foreign country.  I just need to figure out the best foundation to do it with.  That will be my project for tomorrow.  That was the main point of my post this evening, but it turned into something way different.  You never know where a post will take you..

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Filed under journal, rant, Self help

My new and improved life, well, sort of…

I had a client queef on my table today. I haven’t heard one of those in a while. They make me smile. They make me smile especially when they come out of an intimidating, sporty, type A woman who could crush me with her big toe. A dainty splutter erupted from under the sheets.

“What? Did you say something?”

Okay, so I didn’t actually say that.

You know how hard it is to relax a woman like that? Take it from me, it’s pretty damn hard.

I’ve been working a lot lately. I mean really working. This is the first time in my life where I actually have money – the kind of money that replenishes itself within hours – HOURS!

I work everyday from 11am to 8:30pm. I get home at 9pm and eat like a bulldozer whatever my mom makes, play a little Skyrim and hit the hay only to do it all over again the next day.

It’s so different from anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m working like a dog and yet feel completely full of life and energy. Like what I’m doing is actually accomplishing something, not just for the client, but for me as well. That’s what been missing this whole time working for others – the ME component.

I will never go back. Will never go back to those long unappreciated hours with little pay – no where to move up or get ahead, constant worry over hours cut and poor performance reviews, shitty co-workers….

The only regret I have is not doing it sooner. I’m kicking myself for not doing it sooner. The water is surely warmer on this side, grass is definitely greener. I crossed over into a new level of awakening.

Lets talk about how many massages I gave in these past 15 days. 73. I massaged 73 people in 15 days. 55 of them were groupons and the rest were repeat clients. I had one day off and that was last Sunday. Me and my friend installed curtains in my office and went out to eat thai food. Well, she installed the curtains while I stood there passing her tools like she was a surgeon.

“You want the what what?”

“The screwdriver.”

“Where is it? I just had the damn thing where’d it go? This makes no sense.”

As for picking out the curtains, I was clueless at that too.

“Lisa I’m so confused.”

She laughed at me when she spotted me holding a box of curtains in Target. I looked scared and confused.

Lisa – “That’s why I wanted to come. I’m good at this stuff.”

She looked at me and started laughing again.

Lisa – “You have to wipe your face. You have that milkshake stuff all around your mouth.”

Me – “Oh shit do I?”

I smear it in more with the palm of my hand.

Lisa – “It looked like something else ha ha.”

So all in all, I’m clueless about most everything including remnants left on my face. I can’t take care of myself, not that I don’t know how, I just don’t care to – there are more important things to do. I had to feed myself for two days in a row after coming home from 10 hour days. The first night of having to cook for myself, my parents went to the casino and I salvaged edamame and chocolate chip cookies for dinner – which were fine.

The second night however, is not so fine. My mother had to go to the hospital for pneumonia (she’s fine) so she couldn’t cook me dinner, and what I ended up feeding myself made me want to puke. I made myself Campbell’s tomato soup and then ate a huge bowl of homemade pickled beets (garden fresh!). I could not, NOT stop eating the pickled beets. They were so good and wholesome, but man oh man. A bushel of pickled beets and a bowl of canned tomato soup do not mix.

I only massaged four clients today. Now I’m sitting here on my little storage benches.

They remind me of the raft Tom Hanks built in Joe Vs the Volcano.

He tied four water-tight highly expensive leather suitcases together and had just about all he needed inside his little suitcase raft. Now here I am sitting on my little raft in my office with all I’ll ever need in life.

I love that movie, I can relate it to anything. And I like the idea of being alone in the middle of nowhere. I always liked that idea, not sure why.

A friend is swinging by a little later for some fun times. Life is good. Super good. And guess what else? I’m typing to you on my very new MacBook Air – yes you heard correct. I finally got one. It’s an 11 inch, 2.5 pound Mac. Perfect for traveling great distances on foot. I bought a handmade leather case to store it in. It looks like an old discarded book on the outside, but on the inside there’s a flourish of high tech wizardry at play.

The next day…

I’m sitting on my benches at the office again. Waiting for a client to show. Last night was weird. I hung out with Amy and it was the first night in a long time where I didn’t have Dave by my side at the bar. Amy and I were both bombarded with strangers buying us drinks and talking nonsense to us.

I’m not in the happy mood I was in yesterday. People are crazy basically and I swear I’ll never understand them.

I have a tendency to connect with everyone. I know that contradicts my last statement, but I can always find something in anyone no matter who it is, something I can appreciate and connect with. I sort of see the potential in people. I do this for survival purposes. If I don’t connect, people – everyone and anyone can frustrate and annoy the hell out of me. And I DO mean everyone. I become grouchy and make lewd inappropriate comments and poke fun at unfortunate people.

I’m a girl with two opposing sides. It’s a toss of a coin with me. I can be miserable and miserly, or I can be joyful and pleasant – I choose to be pleasant but in order for me to do that, I have to connect. It’s the only way.

Reaching for a connection is exhausting. The more I have to reach for it, the more exhausting it becomes. That’s why I treasure my alone time.

My best friend, Dave, he’s a character. I despise him as a man – a nasty, dirty despicable man. He uses women and has no conscious when doing so. His last girlfriend, Heather, gave him everything and all he did was use her for sex and a place to stay. He also taken advantage of an emotionally/physically crippled girl, and now he’s banging a married chick.

I taken him to Vermont to stay at a friends cottage (this friend doesn’t invite ANYONE to her cottage), and Dave forced her into things she didn’t want to do (not sexual stuff). He shows no respect for anyone and most people hate him.

My problem is that I can find good in everyone and overlook their faults entirely. I refrain from all judgement unless it gets personal and hits close to home. I can connect with a toothless heroin addict truck driver (like I did last night) as long as I know he won’t interfere in my personal life.

Dave made it personal this time. He tries to do things to make me jealous, which invariably never work. He wanted to get Amy in bed with him but she has absolutely no desire and not only that, respects me too much to sleep with my exboyfriend. Amy’s awesome.

Anyway, what Dave did to really piss me off was that he slept with one of my friends while I was in the house. Again I have to say, not jealous. I could’ve went into her room and seduced her myself, or could have went into Dave’s room to seduce him – but no, I’m not like that. Not with friends anyway.

He showed no respect for me. Complete annihilation of respect.

During my awakening I understood that respect is a highly valuable quality to have for emotional and spiritual development. I do my best to honor others with my best intentions. When people don’t do the same for me, it’s hurtful and disrespectful.

My morals are my most prized assets. And I see how rare they are since no one else seems to have any.

People are fucked up and gross. After Dave did that, I not only lost faith him, but in everyone. EVERYONE will hurt me. Its inevitable. People will talk shit about me and I’ll have nobody there to defend me, people will leave me stranded on a mountain in a third world country, guys fuck everything, everyone lies, everyone’s manipulative and out for themselves – EVERYONE.

This thought lingered for quite some time and made me sick to my stomach. I started having chest pains and couldn’t breathe. I’m a martyr. During my enlightenment, Aya told me that I played the part of a martyr. That I give permission to people to take out all their self inflicted torment onto me and I take it all and allow it in order for them to see, but in the process, I get destroyed. It’s part of my path, but I was also told that I still have free will and the choice to end my suffering. But in order to fully end it, I have to let go of all the bad influences in my life. All the people who hurt me, I have to let them go. But now after what Dave did, it felt like there’s no one left. It’s in everyone to do this. Everyone’s heart is cold.

I know I’m a coin. But I can choose which side to land on most of the time. I’m happy because I choose to be happy. I’m good because I choose to be good. If I let the world get to me in this bad way, it’s a fertilized ground for evil. Fear is evil. Fear is lack of understanding and void of compassion. It’s complete misery and I’m sure its the place where people learn how to do all these dastardly things to each other.

I may be jaded, but I’ll never let myself fall. So long as I have the will to write, I can never fall.

I’m not mad at my friend who slept with him, well I was, but I can’t be mad at her because I accepted a long time ago who she was and this is part of who she is. I can’t judge, and I know she didn’t do it to hurt me. But Dave on the other hand, he did it to hurt me. The fact that he used one of my friends as a slab of meat to get at me makes me so sick.

Even if he didn’t do it to hurt me, and just did it for sex, I wish he picked a different girl to do it with. My friend has shit luck with guys and gets used all the time thinking that maybe they like her, but these guys never stick around. And Dave, who openly admits he doesn’t want a chick with kids, is getting off with my friend who has one.

There’s only so much I can tolerate from a person before that connection fades and they’re left with snappy, miserable Melanie who gets easily annoyed by their stupidity. When I lose that connection, I’m a completely different person.

My client is coming in 13 minutes. Blogging is making me less attracted to my job. An entire week went by without me knowing it and here my blog sits on the shelf, whispering in my ear telling me, “hey, I’m here, I’ll always be here. Take a moment when you’re ready and we will figure this shit out. Together.” And sure enough, my week just slowed down big time and came together.

Massaging people over and over again is like saying the same word over and over. It loses all meaning and all you hear are sounds. You see the word for what it really is, just noises coming out of your mouth. Not even sounds, but noises. The smooth tongue action it takes to form the word becomes aware of itself and freezes in your mouth forgetting its job and what to do.

When I massage over and over, all I see is skin. The same color skin on the same body, different body part, same skin. My hands gliding, feeling warm and soft. Covering over more skin, more body parts. Silk everywhere I touch. My movements become a painting on the wall. Dripping paint. Moving, but still.

I was massaging someone the other day, forgot who it was, and I was contemplating this – what I think about while doing my job is some weird shit. My mind became blank and I hit zen. Zen is not enlightenment or awakening, it’s absence of thought. It’s blankness.

“What am I doing exactly? Oh yeah, right.”

Six minutes until my client. I have two more. They both booked themselves online so I’m not sure if they are Groupon people are what.

I ran into my brothers fiance today at the mall and I told her I did 75 massages in the past two weeks. She laughed and said I’m crazy.

Melissa – “Why don’t you space them out?”

Me – “I just want to get them done and over with. The faster I get them done the better.”

She laughs again.

Melissa – “You’re funny.”

Anyway, last night at the bar, I was connecting with some really messed up people. I can have fun anywhere you put me and I will find amusement and new friends. I was with Amy and I think I scared her a little with my mingling. You are who you hang with, right? If you hang around dogs, you’re bound to get flea’s.

So it’s either be in a pissy mood all the time wanting to punch people, or connect with everyone and be looked at as a ……oh I think my client is here.

This post will never be finished…..sigh.

Okay I’m back home in my jammies. So tired. It feels so good to lay here and zone.

Stare

Blink

Stare

I think my last client had an orgasm on the table. I was massaging her and she started moaning and it progressively gotten louder and faster – I shit you not she was saying stuff like “Ohh yeah, yeah.” And then her moans ended and she fell silent and peaceful. True story. I was jealous. People who can experience pure ecstasy like that without drugs, god bless them.

I massaged a young woman the other day and afterwards she asks me, “Are you trained at massaging transgender?”

I had to think about it. The way she worded it made me think I needed extra training for it. But why? I’m not massaging the sex parts.

“Um, well yeah. We all have the same bodies, don’t we?”

She smiled at me and said, “Oh good. I just thought I should ask because some people have problems with it.”

Me – “No not me. I’m open-minded and nonjudgmental. This is a safe environment.”

And then I had a guy that came in and plopped down on my Joe Vs Volcano Benches and started sobbing away.

Man – “My job is horrible, I have a lousy marriage. I’m in a bad hopeless place and need something, you know? Something that would help me. I read your website and it sounds like you can help me. I can only go to the bar so much, you know?”

He was an older fellow, early 50’s I’d say. Rather fluffy and unattractive. My heart went out to the poor guy. Starting over for him would be a great challenge – starting over for me on the other hand is cake since I never really started anything.

I told him some deep profound insights into the meaning of life (I forgot exactly what I said) and his eyes and ears perked up.

Him – “You give talking therapy too?”

Me – “Ha, no. I’m not certified for that, but talking is absolutely therapeutic.”

He loved his massage and couldn’t stop thanking me. I saw him again the following week and I’m seeing him again in a few days.

People are strangely beautiful if you get past everything else and let them into your heart.

Whatever negative vibe they give off, or if they seem rough around the edges, don’t mirror it back to them. If you treat them the same way they treat you, its just going to feed into their already deteriorating faith in humanity. It perpetuates the cycle and spreads it to others.

So I guess in my small way, I do help people. And it’s very rewarding.

I’m zonked. It’s 11 pm, my new bedtime. I need to unwind and stop writing. I really REALLY hope I can sleep after writing this post. I haven’t written anything in a while, so this has gotten my mind a little straighter and lighter but now it wants to stay up and let out more. Purge! Purging is great when it’s not the contents of my stomach.

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Filed under All about me, journal, Massage therapy, rant, Self help, Uncategorized

I’m too tired…..

Customers are Ignoring You

Customers are Ignoring You (Photo credit: ronploof)

I truly panicked over money last Tuesday.

I hoped my landlord forgot that I was renting a room from him. I tried to avoid running into him in the halls, but that didn’t work. He’s always there smiling and nodding his head at me saying, “Why hello there Melanie!” His old dog sniffing and nuzzling my leg.

“Hi Micky, good to see you. Hi Einstein.” I bend over to pet his dog.

I met with a Clipper Magazine consultant last Tuesday to try and set up some coupon deals and online vouchers – all done for free until I sell the vouchers online – they take a cut.

I sat in the conference room with the advertising guy while Micky played fetch with Einstein in the hallway.

Advertising guy – “Customers trickle in slowly with these deals, but unlike Groupon and Living Social, our customers stick.”

All advertisers say that their customers stick. Groupon and living social buyers hop from one deal to the next and will most likely never see me again.

He wasn’t very reassuring that I’ll make a lot of money from this. So I panicked.

After the meeting (which lasted an hour), I went upstairs to my mailbox behind the receptionists desk and there I found the invoice for my first months rent.

“Shit….”

I paid Micky my rent using the rest of the money in my saving account and headed to Happy Tuesday to meet Dave and drink my cares away.

“I have to pray. There’s nothing left for me to do but pray. Please god help me. Please god help me.”

So far what I accomplished to set up my business is:

Create a website

Manta

Yelp

Yellow pages

Google maps

Clipper magazine

Plum District

YourBestDeals

I think that’s it. Living Social and Groupon won’t bother talking to me until I’m more established and have a bigger online presence with customer reviews. For now I have to stick with the little guys.

I still need to set up a Facebook page, check out Deal of the Day offers in newspapers, get my name listed on Massage therapist finders (which I’m weary about doing because that’s the first place perverts look).

Instead of doing any of that, I’m laying in bed. I’m over-tired from lack of sleep and stressed about people and clients. My head feels like a big lumpy knot. Beer and laughter are the only things to make it better but I’m too tired for anything. I can barely write.

And I’m wishing that my co-worker remembered to bring me her Assassins Creed game. I would be playing that right now instead of caving into temptations to write.

I’m over tired from lack of sleep. I haven’t slept in two days because of staying up all hours of the night searching YouTube for information about the drugs I’ll be taking in Colombia. The more I research, the more I wish I never signed up for this Spiritual Retreat.

One such drug, or medicine as they call it, is Ayahuasca. It’s the most powerful hallucinogen on the planet. Many people who ingested it, claim that it was the most terrifying experience of their life. It was like living inside a nightmare that wouldn’t end.

Ayahuasca connects you to the spirit world and the visions produced are supposed to enlighten and guide you into your higher self. And for some people, this means confronting their worst fears and overcoming them – to stand up against them and not be afraid. It’s both terrifying and life altering. It breaks down the ego and personality. It shows you your weaknesses. It’s not fun, but it is believed to work better than spending years in self-analysis talking to a therapist.

I’m terrified already. I’m a lot more scared now than the time I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.

I’m picturing myself being there, sitting cross-legged in a circle of my peers. All of us praying, the musicians chanting and strumming their instruments when the shaman announces to everyone, “Now’s the time. Drink. Drink!”

People vomit and pee their pants. I take off all my clothes and run around naked, jumping into a river to drown. I’ve never been this scared in all my life.

Besides having to face the river of death on my own and being completely broke, I’m also dealing with people who are confusing the hell out of me.

My friend Steph is flying in from Minnesota to visit us, so one of my ex-friends decided to finally contact me after months of cutting me off and leaving my gaping wounds to fester. This is the girl who taken K’s side when I got back from Nepal, yelled at me, blamed me for everything, left me a crying whimpering mess – kicked me out of her house and hasn’t called me since. She left me for dead and now wants to be friends again with no apology on her end. How the hell am I supposed to respond to that? I feel like a beaten housewife who keeps taking on abuse. I honestly don’t know what people want from me.

They say I don’t respond or communicate my feelings, but I’m the only one of them who writes a blog confessing everything I have in me. I rip open a vein every time I sit in front of this thing. And from them I get nothing but hate and anger.

I don’t understand people, I’ll never understand them. I’ve done nothing wrong to anybody but I still get beat downs. It makes me so upset. People make me feel autistic.

Last night Kristi also contacted me wanting to be friends again. I like Kristi, she’s a lot of fun but I’m honestly scared to hang out with her again. The first time I can’t respond to her text, the first time I can’t answer her call – I’ll feel utterly guilty and miserable. She’ll get mad at me again. I know she’ll get mad at me again.

These people have obvious problems with me, so why are they even bothering with me? I feel yanked around. Do they care about me or not? I think they’re just bored.

I had a client the other day. I massaged him a few times before, and wasn’t looking forward to massaging him again. He’s a big black guy who keeps asking me out. He’s high on himself thinking that he’s god’s gift to women, so when I tell him I’m not interested, he calls me a lesbian.

Him – “What do you, like girls or somethin’?”

It is one of the most annoying remarks to have to deal with. Not the liking girls part, I can care less about that, but just his narcissistic attitude that something has to be wrong with me if I don’t want to date him. It revolts me. HE revolts me.

Him – “You ever date a black guy before?”

Him – “Why not?”

Refusing him makes me feel racist – that’s what he wants me to feel.

I don’t want to massage him anymore, but I can’t tell my co-workers that. I already told them I didn’t want to work on this other guy (who is also black), so they’ll think I’m a racist. The other black guy that used to request me was super obese, not getting any healthier and telling ME that I’m the one who has to fix him.

“I’ll come in every week if I have to.”

He was so big that he snored while he was awake.

There was nothing sexual with him and I felt completely safe, but massaging him made me miserable. I did it for 2 or 3 years. I can’t fix a persons bad knee’s and hips when all they do all day is sit around and eat, then come to me to complain.

So anyway, that’s my life right now.

Dave told me something last night that I put in my last blog post.

Dave – “Why do you think I keep you around? All I want you for is to get laid.”

He said it jokingly, but then he mentioned my blog and how he was going to get the link from one of my ex-friends, but she decided not to give it to him.

Me – “Did she give it to you?”

Dave looks down at his phone – “Naw she deleted it.”

Me – “She deleted it?”

Dave – “She said she didn’t want me thinking bad of you.”

Me – “Oh.”

Then he went on to tell me that K tells people I’m a liar and that I paid a tour group to take me over the Himalayan pass and that I was completely safe the whole time.

Me – “I didn’t hire anyone! I was lucky to have found them. It was the night before going over the mountain and they overheard my conversation about me doing it alone. They approached ME at the last minute.”

Dave – “Oh well, that’s not what she says.”

She continues to gossip and tell stories about me. Wasn’t I punished enough in Nepal? When’s it going to stop?

People are vicious and spiteful. I can’t handle it. I’m way too sensitive. And maybe I am naive and innocent, it makes it all the worse.

My phone is on silent.

I’m burnt out from late nights out, beer, YouTube, zero money, crazy people, the prospect of facing pure terror. I’m so worn out. It’s 7:31 pm on a Saturday and all I can think about doing is turning off the lights and going to sleep. I hope Kristi doesn’t call. If I miss her phone call, the cycle will repeat itself.

Are these thoughts / fears / worries of mine normal to have for a 32-year-old woman? Or am I on my own here…

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Melanie the Degenerate

Two friends

Two friends (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I can’t remember the last time I woke up without a hangover.

I’ve been drinking a lot since I got back from Nepal because my friends all hate me.  Not only does K hate me, but another good friend doesn’t like me too much either.

She said I was mean to K in my Nepal post and that I showed a lot of hate and anger towards her.  That was her only response to my post.  No explanation or anything.  Just that I was mean.  I don’t know where in my blog show’s me having hate and anger (very strong words), but somewhere it does.  I’m apparently the bad guy in all this.  I’m the one who screwed up.  I’m the degenerate low-life.

I’m in a bad place.  All I want to do is hang out with Dave and drink myself into a stupor.  I give up.  People want to take sides that’s fine, I don’t need anyone.  I really don’t.

I started hanging out with Kristie and all her friends.  All her friends ever want to do is go out and drink.  Now I not only have Happy Tuesday to drink, but there’s also Thirsty Thursday and Hump Day, which we also call Thirsty Thursday because we never know what the hell day of the week it is.

I’m going to end up in a gutter with my new friends drunk beside me laughing at each other and me, slapping each other on the backs and giving high fives.  I’ll be laughing too.  Laughing and crying.

And this girl, Kristie, must have text me over a dozen times today and it’s only 3 o’clock.  She’s starting to enclose me in her finely spun alcohol induced cocoon of friendship.  She wants to hang out.  I told her I was taking a nap.  Ha ha maybe I really am an asshole and everyone is right.

I went to the massage clinic to sit today.  I woke up tired as hell at 10 am so I could be there for 11.  My mother made pasta Primavera and put some in a Tupperware container for me to take with me.  I gave one massage and came back home exhausted.  Pasta for breakfast wasn’t a good idea today.

I’m still waiting for my friend to tell me where in my post I was being mean.  But should I care or should I just let it go?  If I let it go that means our friendship is pretty much over.  I don’t want to be that girl.  The one who no one really wants to be around.  I can take a hint.

Jesus what kind of friends do I have?  One of them leaves me alone in the Himalayas and the other one says I was mean.  Is everyone like this?  Or do I just have shit luck?

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Time for my daily rant

Act of giving the finger.

Act of giving the finger. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I taken karate classes starting when I was 9 years old all the way up till I was 16 and one of my instructors was a cop from my hometown.  I will call this cop Officer N.  Officer N became a family friend.  My brother also taken karate classes before me, so this guy has known my family for years.

About 13 or 14 years ago, I was driving down a street near my house when out of nowhere a car pulls out in front of me.  I had to slam on my breaks to stop myself from T-boning him.  My adrenalin kicked on so I instinctively flipped him off – it was the one and only time I’ve ever done that.

As my middle finger lingered in the air, I got my first good look at the culprits face.  He was no more than 10 yards away and had his window rolled down.  He had a thick cop mustache and big cop glasses – “Oh shit that’s Officer N!”

Well, it may have been, but I’m still not sure.

My finger pissed him off so much so that he started chasing after me.  I was a dumb 18-19 year old with a fresh license, stuck in a high pursuit chase thru my little town of Cheshire.  My heart raced, I was trembling – but at the same time I kinda liked it.  I was never really scared of him catching me, I knew he couldn’t – I just knew.  And besides, what could he have done to me?  Bump my bumper and beep?  Or get out of his car and pummel me with a bat?  Pshhh, yah right.

I had no fear of driving at that age so I easily maneuvered my way in and out of cars, creating my own lanes and even running red lights.  I finally lost him when I pulled into the Watch Factory outlets and parked.  I slouched down in the seat of my 1988 Z-24 piece of shit car.

Okay so back to present time.

I’m sitting in work yesterday, at the massage clinic, and I get a phone call from none other than Officer N wanting to get in for a massage.  I haven’t seen him in about 17 years.  I’m to give him a massage tomorrow.

Anyway…..

I sat in work yesterday and he was the only phone call during the four hours I was sitting for free – for free!  This is my brothers fiance’s business.  That’s why I do it.  Then she texted me asking to swing by her house to let out their three big dogs.  But I don’t live anywhere near them!

They did this to me last year.  Asking me to let out the dogs and to house-sit for them at least once a week if not more – and I did it.  I did it because I didn’t think they would take advantage of me by asking so much – it pissed me off.  So I told her no, I won’t let out her dogs and now my parents are hounding me about it like I’m the bad guy.

Also my Mom is telling me not to open my own business because “times are tough and there wouldn’t be any clients.”  When really she just wants me to stay here working for M, my bro’s fiancé.

Me – “So I shouldn’t follow my dreams and be successful?”

Mom – “I’m not saying that, just that there are so many spa’s out there now.  You won’t get anyone.”

My own mother doesn’t believe in me and I’m a bitch for not letting the dogs out.

Shit….Sorry, just had to rant.

I’m bored.  And a bit hungover.

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Happy Melantines Day!

English: An anxious person

Image via Wikipedia

No I did not do a defamation in my pants.  Just ignore my last post, it was nonsense.  It was one of my clients who searched the terms “Christina Massage Envy” because he wanted to read reviews about her.  His next appointment was with Christina and he wanted to know what he was getting himself into.  After reading my post about her, he cancelled his appointment and decided to go back to the South Windsor branch.  Oops…….

Ha ha, of all the people to search those terms, it was one of my dear sweet clients landing on my dear sweet blog.  What are the chances?  Shit…..

Anyway, I think I’m getting sick dammit.  Everyone is sick at Massage Envy.  The table in the break room is covered with tissue’s, cough drops and medicine.  Oriana, my coworker at the other spa I work at is sick with bronchitis.  I’m being pelted in all directions by hell germs.  Germs from the depths of firy hell!

And today is my birthday.  Valentines day.  The day where most people make plans that don’t involve me.  They would rather spend it with their sweetie’s eating boxes of chocolate and wearing edible undies.  Well those people can choke on their underwear goddamnit.  No, just kidding.  Or am I?

Seriously though, choke on your goddamned edible underwear.  Valentines day is for chumps.  “Oh it’s so romantic!”  Fucking chumps….

I’m sitting in Cheshire Coffee.  I just gave a massage down the street and have to go back to give another one in an hour.  I guess Cheshire Coffee will take the place of my beloved Starbucks.  But now I have Holly here with me.  She works across the street and comes here all the time.

I believe in a thing called mob mentality.  All it takes is one person to start an epidemic, and I am that person.  Massage Envy is turning on Christina by wanting to spit her out and I can’t help thinking that it’s all my fault.  If one person states their genuine frustrations and it is entirely felt by the majority of the people who empathize with her, the projected emotions get carried over from one person to the next creating an aura of emotion – a mood permeated with excitability.  An excitability wanting a change, a release, a breaking point if you will.

Last Saturday I went to Hibachi with a few Envy co-workers and learned that Jeff, the owner, is planning to sit down individually with each therapist in order for them to voice their opinions about Christina.  Apparently I’m not the only one frustrated with her, but my resignation has sprung a revolt.

When I’m not happy with a place or a person, I leave.  I don’t try to fight it, I just leave.  I didn’t expect any of this to happen, but oh well.  What did I expect to happen since everyone that I work with now reads my blog?

I AM A TROUBLEMAKER!

Oh I like that.  I feel like Tom Sawyer causing mischief.  Now all I have to do is stage my own death and free a negro and my Tom Sawyer transformation will be complete.  Holly told me not to write the word “negro”, but it’s in the spirit of Mark Twain.  And Holly isn’t the one writing this blog, I am, and I’m an asshole goddamnit.

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

It’s now 2:31 am.  I just got home from the bar and watched one episode of Naruto (Season 3 episode 5) and here I am writing like an idiot at 2 fucking 31 in the morning.

After my last client, I went to the Thai Hut in Southington with some close friends to celebrate my abhorrent birthday.  The restaurant was packed and service was slow (as expected on crummy Valentines day).  People walked out after being seated for 20 minutes with having no acknowledgement from the busy waitstaff (consisting of two overwhelmed girls doubling as bartenders).

Angry customer – “The food was good, but I at least expected the waitstaff to know how to speak English.”

She actually said this.

It’s a THAI food restaurant lady!  And that waitress did know English you inconsiderate jackass.  Fucking people……

I, for some reason, have a high tolerance for long waits.  I can sit for hours and be completely content in knowing that eventually I’ll be served – even if I was the last to receive a meal, I’d still be happy.  But because It was my birthday, my friends were there because of me instead of choosing to choke on their edible undergarments, and so I felt their discomfort was completely my doing.

I was a wreck.

I was a nervous wreck during dinner at the Thai Hut.   My anxiety was at an all time high.  I was afraid I couldn’t even grasp my water glass without shaking like a leaf.  I’m not exactly sure why my anxiety was so high.  It could have been because we were there for an inexobitant amount of time waiting for service, or because of the mere fact of it being my birthday (always brings me anxiety).  It could have been because of my impending 20 day trek through the Himalaya’s or having to work with Christina tomorrow (who is ignoring me to the fullest), or possibly the soy latte I had at Cheshire coffee gave me the shakes – I don’t know but it was bad.  Very bad anxiety.

My two good friends, Brie and Paul, came out for my birthday.  They just found out today that they’re having a baby girl – That could have contributed to my anxiety.  A baby girl…..I’m 32 and STILL can’t imagine having a baby.  It’s just incomprehensible to me.

Brie and Paul ate before going to the Thai Hut, but they were still upset over the service being so slow (even though they ordered nothing but a soda) – that added to my anxiety.

One of my girlfriends who’s accompanying me on my 20 trek told me during dinner that she’s worried about me going.  She’s worried that I won’t be able to keep up, or hike for 20 days straight.  I taken this realization pretty hard.  I’m one of those sensitive types who believe what people tell me.  If she thinks I can’t do it, than I probably can’t.  Worried about me?  Really?  I’m a nervous wreck as it is and she’s worried about me?  I felt defensive and I hate feeling defensive.

Me – “Well, my job is really physical.  I use my legs a lot…….”

No matter what defensive remark I could say back, I can’t deny the fact that she’s right.  I’m not a camper, I never went on any big high altitude hikes and I’m not a knowledgeable world traveler.  I’m just a 32 year old baby still living at home and quitting jobs whenever they get the slightest bit uncomfortable.  Defensive people get defensive because they feel some underlining threat that what they’re hearing is true.  And I was defensive.

And I can’t quit the Himalayas.  Once I’m there, I’m there.

I felt really discouraged.  But then why was I invited?  Was it a mistake?  She was only voicing her concern, though.  I can’t be angry at her for being honest.

I’m laying in my  warm bed with Naruto paused on Netflix.  Joel brought me home from the bar.  I tell ya, that guy thinks I’m some brilliant person capable of anything.  He lifts me up higher than I deserve.  But it’s people like him that make me feel I can accomplish anything.

I’m going to the Himalaya’s for myself.  Not anyone else.  I have nothing to prove to anyone – I’m just going because I think it will be a great experience.  I’m going there for me and me alone.  I won’t lag behind.  I won’t falter or fall.  I’ll be an exceptional beginner climber!  If I can believe that, than it will be true!  And what I believe is all that really matters, right?

No, maybe I should worry.  I’m a booze hound lay-a-bout after all.  I have no real motivation.  I don’t like getting out of bed unless I absolutely have to.

I have to get vaccinated tomorrow.  I called up and made the appointment, but I have no idea where this travel clinic is.  Did I mention I’m a complete moron?  I have to be there at 10:45 am.  I’m so tired and I have to give five massages tomorrow after I get my vaccines.   Yes, complete idiot.  I’m an aging idiot.

But an aging idiot who’s hiking the himalaya’a and will someday cure cancer!

And now your moment of zen.

What I looked like by the end of the night:

That’s me under a pool table.

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OMG SHiT! Did I just do a Defamation in my pants?

Shit

Image via Wikipedia

Ummm….Yikes?

My blog has been growing for two years.  Each day I add to it and each day it become’s a little more powerful.  So when someone types the words “Christina Massage Envy” into a search engine, my blog will sure enough pop up.  And that’s just what happened – just now, two seconds ago.  Not only did they type the words “Christina Massage Envy” but they also put in the name of the town where we’re located!

I’m freaked out!  FREAKED!  Is this what they call defamation?  Shit.  Shit shit shit.

I didn’t write anything false.  I mean, I did make my job look pretty bad on a published website which can technically be labeled an act of defamation.  Shit!

Christina was quiet today.  She ignored me completely.  Yesterday she was fine, chatty and upbeat, but today – oh good lord this isn’t good.  She didn’t look at me once.  She must have read my letter of resignation – which was not falsified – all of it was true.  But did someone tell her about my blog?  A few of my coworkers have kept up with reading it, but were they talking about it and Christina overheard?  SHIT!

The very least punishment I can get for this is for them to fire me, but can they take me to court?  Will I be fined?  No, no that’s silly.  I’m over-thinking this.  Can I just say that I was suffering from temporary insanity when I wrote that?  And that post was heated up and dramatized for entertainment purposes.  I mean, I didn’t include anyone’s last name, or the town that I work in, so it would be an incomplete act of defamation.

Besides all that, I don’t want to hurt Christina!  I seriously don’t!  She’s not a bad person and I’m sure she means well.  She just caught me on a bad day is all.

The morning of the day I decided to quit, I had a dream.  I wasn’t planning to quit anytime soon – I was enjoying my job for the most part, but that morning I had a horrible dream that M E was testing drugs on me.  They were using employee’s as lab rats for experimental treatments.  It was a really bad dream – totally unprecedented.  One of my coworkers, Bob, who is honestly one of the sweetest people you can ever meet, told me in my dream that I should quit before it’s too late.  And so I did.  I quit in my dream.  As I was walking out of the massage clinic, I hoped that I made the right decision.  It felt right, but I was still sad.  Then I woke up and was so relieved to find it was all just a horrible dream.

“Oh thank god!  I can’t afford to quit now!”  But then I remembered about my stupid ability to foresee future events.  Many powerful dreams like that end up coming true for me.  It’s a crappy ability, trust me.

“Oh shit.  I’m either going to get fired or quit today.  But why?  How? On what basis does this make any sense?”

By the end of the day, it made perfect sense.  My dream, as usual, gave me a glimpse of what’s to come.  Stupid ESP I hate it!

I need a beer.  I have one left.

Holding down a steady blog for two years gives it weight and power.  I’m not just writing for my own entertainment anymore.  I’m no longer scribbling my life into a notebook like I did for the fourteen years prior, no.  People are actually reading this shit.

Freedom of speech baby yeah!  I also have Article 19 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights on my side.

But even if nothing happens to me, no criminal charges filed……I’m genuinely sorry if she did read that post – it wasn’t meant for her to see.  I can be angry at someone one day, and love them the next.  My ability to undergo radical forgiveness of other’s is so profound that it reaches the farthest depths of my humanity.  I forgive and I love, it’s what I do.  No matter what the circumstance.

Shit.  What if she comes after me?  What if she puts a bomb in my car?  No.  That’s not going to happen.

I can’t wait to leave the country.  Me and my big oaf of a mouth.

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My funny resignation letter and dealing with a bitch and a man-baby

I’m officially sick of my job.  Not the actual act of massaging, no.  But sick of the place itself.  You want to know where I work?  Fine, I’ll tell you!  Massage Envy Ct phone number……..I won’t give you the phone number, but it’s easy enough to find.

Where should I start?  I’ll start at the very beginning.  The beginning of my misery and the downfall of the little clinic I loved so dear.  This all started with the hiring of a 56-year-old phony, bullshitting – busybody, Christina.

I wrote about her before.  She’s the woman who got upset at me for not wanting to do massage exchanges with her (you can read about that here).  She asked me if it’s because I don’t like people touching me.  Pffffff, the nerve.

I didn’t like her then, and I STILL don’t!  And I tried to like her.  I honestly have tried, but I swear this woman hates me.  And when I tell my coworkers how much she hates me, they say no, “She’s like that to everyone.”

The way she talks to her clients is so shrill and fake, anyone with a vague insight into the human psyche can see it.

She’s bouncy.  You know what I mean?  She goes to greet a client in the tranquillity room with about five or six clients silently waiting in there and she bounces on the couch next to her client and says:  “So are you ready?!  Are you ready to get your massage?!”  And she’s sitting/bouncing on the couch at the same time.  My coworker did an impression of her doing it, you have to see it to fully understand.

She likes to lecture people and “teach” them.  She like’s to greet new clients by saying, “Hi I’m Christina.  I’m the lead therapist and I only been working here since June, tee hee hee.”  Again, my coworker was doing an impression.  Funny as hell.  “But nobody wanted the position!  That’s the only reason she got it!”  My coworkers get just as worked up over her as I do.

I was offered the role of lead therapist and I knew that if I didn’t accept, I would have to put up with Christina hovering over me and bossing me around.  I knew (and I mean ESP knew) that my decision to turn down the role of top banana would cause me to quit.  I just knew it – I know things like that.  I also knew I didn’t want to stay there forever, or deal with Jeff on a regular basis.  So I said no thanks.

Have I describe Christina well enough?  Can you picture her yet?  She is ceaselessly annoying, talks over others non-stop for hours on end.  And since she’s the lead therapist, it’s her job to get all of us subordinates to adhere to her strict policy of up-selling.  “SELL SELL SELL!”  Her  glistening chin protruding and her eyes bulge.  “I sold my first enhancement of the day tee hee hee.”

I’m not so swift to listen to her lecture’s.  I either leave the room while she’s talking, or zone out and play on my phone.  Our “enhancements” mean that for an extra $12 you can get two hot wet towels applied to your back, or for an extra $10, you can get 12 drops of essential oil mixed into our regular all-purpose lotion.  That’s what it is spoken plainly and candidly, but the way the franchise hypes it up, even the therapist’s buy into it!  When I mention it to my clients, I can and usually do sell it if I want to, but it’s a rip-off and I won’t adhere to ripping people off.

Christina wants to write us a sales pitch and have us memorize it so we can give the spiel to our clients.  “Isn’t that a lovely idea?  Tee hee hee.”  Just writing her laugh is annoying!

Okay, so anyway, I don’t want to make this post too long, so I’ll try to make it quick.

Last week I gave a massage to a man-baby.  What I mean by man-baby is that this fully grown man had the body of a baby.  I shit-you-not!  Yes he was obese, but as I said before, I don’t think twice about obese clients.  There are as many of them as there are people of “average” weight.  To me, a body is a body, but a baby-man-body is something I take notice of!

It was as if he never stepped outside a uterus before.  Or he was being intravenously fed by tube’s from The Matrix and was recently ejected out of the chute and into the real world with the first thing on his list, to get a massage.

He wanted deep tissue.  Okay, no problem.  I can do that.  I pressed the palms of my hands into his back.  I pressed down and then down some more and then down, down, down…….”What the fuck’s going on?  No resistance?  Where’s his muscle’s?  Where’s his bones?”  He was as squishy as a freshly baked doughnut.  Not so much squishy, as he was soft.  Squishy has resistance.  He was as soft as…..a fucking baby!  I don’t know how else to describe it.  He was certainly unlike anything I’ve ever seen or massaged before.  Unreal, really.

The way I like to give (and get) deep tissue massage is that I massage very hard, only the muscles that are of a rock hard density.  This apparently wasn’t going to happen for this guy.  He was built like a snowman.

And his personality even sounded like a baby.  Sort of a bratty, “baby wants his binkie” or “baby did a doodie in his pants” kind of baby.  He was the largest, softest man-child I have ever laid hands on and it gave me the willies’ when I sunk my elbow down into his guts.  Gleh…..

I’m not usually this shallow and mean spirited, but this guy was a strange one.  For the whole massage I was thinking, “how the hell am I supposed to massage him?  How?”

About a week later my boss, Linda, told me that baby-man filled out an email follow-up questionnaire and emailed it back to the franchise.

Me – “Oh Jesus.”

Linda – “It’s okay, not a big deal.  He just said that he wished you used more pressure, but he was too afraid to ask.”

Too afraid to ask?  F*cking baby.

And that was it.  “No bid deal” she says.  So I brushed it off.  It was my first negative feedback I received in two years.

But it didn’t end there.  Christina heard about what happened and it was her way in.  She found a chink in my otherwise impenetrable armor, and dug he claws.

She set up a training session with me.  I saw it on my schedule when I walked into work yesterday.  I point to the screen and say “What the hell is this?”

“It’s a practical with me!  Tee hee hee.”

Me – “For what?”

Christina – “We’re just going to go over some protocol’s, draping procedure’s and that sort of thing.  Don’t worry, I’m easy.  Here, you can even look over what I’ll be grading you on.”

She hands me a chart with questions each having a scale from 1 to 5 beside each question.

What the fuck is this?

Me – “Is this from that one guy who complained about me last week?”

Christina – “Yes, Jeff take’s all complaints very seriously.”

Me – “So I get one complaint in two years and I have to take a practical exam?”

Christina – “I’m sure you had other complaints besides that one.”

Me – “Have I?  How would I find that out?”

Christina – “They tell you verbally about each complaint and send you an email copy of the clients questionnaire they filled out.”

Me – “I’ve never gotten any email sent to me and Linda only told me about that one guy.”

Christina – “……..Jeff’s reinforcing his policy’s.”

She giggle’s and takes a bite out of her wrap.  That’s the other thing, she is always eating.  She claims she’s on a  diet but I always see her stuffing her face.  And she brings into work this really gross, homemade funky, gunky drink in a mason jar.  She leaves it out sitting on the break room table all day and you can see the chunks in it separating and rising to form a jelly like crust on the surface.

“What the fuck is this?”  Is an expression that runs repeatedly in my head through out the day.

That was the conversation practically word for word.  Still burned into memory.  By the time we started my practical, it was already 17 minutes into the massage, she wanted full body and the rip-off enhancement they call “Deep Heat Muscle Therapy.”

I wanted to throw up my hands and say fuck it I’m out, but I had clients and I was sort of stuck.  I gave her the massage, she talked the entire time – loud talk “tee hee hee” talk.  I undraped one of her legs and tuck the sheet under her thigh as I normally do, and she says that’s the wrong way.

“Massage Envy’s policy is the diaper drape.”

She raises her leg in the air (she was face up at this point) way higher than necessary that it made me uncomfortable and I wondered what the hell she was doing with her leg up so high.  She pulled the sheet up so it was snug against her crotch.

“Te he, that’s better.”

This woman, goddammit, I seen the way she drapes and this is NOT it.  When we have couple’s massages together, she uncovers the entire side of the body – from feet to head.  One butt cheek perfectly exposed.  Is that Massage Envy draping?  No!  It’s “I want to glide my hands up and down your naked body” kind of draping.

Damn, I didn’t want to make this a long post…..shit.

To wrap it up, she expressed to Linda, my boss, that I need extra training according to the grades she gave me on the chart.  I was so infuriated beyond words, beyond my breaking point.  I had a shit-fit and started telling everyone what was happening.  I told them about the one guy that complained last week, and how it led up to this.

Coworker – “She  does it to everyone, sweetie.  Don’t worry, we’re all on your side.”

I couldn’t be subdued.  I was hot, I was sweating.  My coworkers patted me on the back, gave me hugs.  But by the end of the night, I decided I wanted out.  It’s quitting time for this lotion slinger.

To top the night off, I had to give a couple’s massage with Christina.  This couple, husband and wife, love me enough to move around their schedule in order to stay on mine.  The husband requested me this time.  The wife didn’t request Christina, she just ended up with her.

After their massage, they got dressed and met us in the hallway to chat and drink the complimentary cup of water.

Wife – “We won’t be seeing you next month because we’re going away.”

I asked them where they were going and told them I won’t be around either because I’m going on a month long vacation.

Husband – “Oh really?  Where?”

During this time, Christina was trying to talk over us, but the wife and I tuned her out – even the Husband tuned her out.  It was awesome!

Me – “Nepal.”

Wife – “Oh my God I knew that!  How did I already know that?!”

Her mouth hangs open and she stares at me.

Me – “I’m not sure, I only found out a few weeks ago.  I haven’t seen you since then.”

Wife – “I’m very intuitive, but that’s just plain weird.  I can’t believe I knew that!”

The husband chuckled.  Christina finally gave up trying to talk over people.

Me – “Do you sense the trip will be okay?”

Wife – “Yes!  It will be great!  You will have a wonderful time.”

She was being so sincere.  I could tell she was stunned by her telepathy and the way she looked at me made us share a sudden bond.  People like Christina will never experience that.

Christina is not a bad person, she really isn’t.  She like’s to cut people down, blow herself up, lie – any idiot can see that.  She has mental issue’s.  Even a client once called Christina “crazy” after getting a massage from her.  But just because she has text-book psychosis’, doesn’t make her bad a bad person.

But anyway, I’m quitting.  I spent two years working there anyway and I never stay at a job for longer than two years.   I either leave out of boredom or annoyance.  This time it’s a little of both.

Oh and Christina also told me that Jeff, the owner, was going to fire me!  But he didn’t because Christina told him not to because it wouldn’t be fair.  HA!  She’s such a scammer!  Everything is so phony about her.

When I got home, I wrote my letter of resignation:

 

At first I was trained
I was certified
Kept thinking I could never work
without Envy by my side
But I spent these past few hours
thinking how you did me wrong
I grew strong
I learned how to carry on!
and so I quit
from the Envy

I walked out of Christina’s lecture
left that look upon her face

I should have changed my stupid job
I should have wrote a new CV
If I had known for just one second
I would be quitting Massage Envy!
Go now go
I’m out the door
Just turn around now
’cause you’re not working anymore

Weren’t YOU the one who tempted me with free CEU’s?
You think I’d crumble
You think I’d give in for nickel and dimes?
Oh no, not I
I will resign
as long as I know how to rub
I know I will be fine
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got both my hands to give
and I’ll resign

It took all the strength I had not to disappear
kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken career
and so I spent oh so many minutes just feeling sorry for myself
I used to try
Now I hold my hands up high!

And now you see
Somebody new
I’m not that chained up little person
filling in gumballs just for you 
(has to do with selling enhancements)
and so you hoped I may conform or
just expect me to leave quietly
now I’m saving all my knowledge
for someone else who’s paying me,
……..more money!!!!!

– I Will Resign!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Um, okay, I thought about it and I’m not actually going to use that as my resignation letter.

So I wrote this instead;

Dear Linda,

I regret to inform you that I must part ways with Massage Envy.  It was a very easy decision, although a sad one.  I will write out a listed documentation of the reasons for my leaving.  Hopefully you will see things from my point of view.

  • I have recently been told by the head therapist that the only reason I’m still working there is because Jeff thought it would be unfair to fire me without a proper warning.  This was a shock to me.  I felt very threatened, and still do.
  • What I find to be unfair is not receiving any information about client complaints.  In the past two years, I have been told of one complaint, and that was last week.  Since then I have corrected the problem from occurring again.  Only yesterday did I find out that there were many other complaints.  I had no knowledge of them and therefore I’m left with little chance of correcting my mistakes and growing as a therapist.
  • I feel that the new added pressure to sell has gone beyond my comfort level.  If a client says no the first time, I let them be.  It is also hard for me to sell something that I find to be overpriced and overhyped (12 drops of oil for $10?  Two hot towels for $12?).  I also heard from the lead therapist that we are going to start utilizing a prepared sales pitch to give each client before every massage about the add-on’s.  The massage is only 50 minutes, and now their time will be cut even shorter by listening to a very poor sales pitch from a desperate, scared therapist.
  • I do not feel safe and secure in my job anymore.
  • I’m starting to doubt my abilities and my choice of career.
  • I’m losing sleep and feel stressed.
  • I hear complaints from other therapist’s.  Our turnover rate is increasing which is going to decrease clients.  I know of several therapists who are trying to make their way out.  Several already left with having similar complaints as mine.
  • I’m getting paid $16 dollars an hour, which is what I agreed to.  But under the new pressures and circumstances, the dollar amount is exceedingly low.
  • There are no benefits for working at Massage Envy.  Even for someone who’s been there for two years still has no job security or job growth.  And as of late, no appreciation.
  • I am no longer my happy, joyful self.
  • I am a gifted, dynamic, intuitive, loving person who feels that Massage Envy can no longer meet my level of requirement.  I have only one level, and that is enjoyment of my job.

I have already a job in my hometown that pays double for what Massage Envy pays.  The owner says that I am more than welcome to work as much as I like and pick my own hours.  My plan is to start my own business when I arrive back home after trekking the Himalayas for a month. 

Letting go of something I once loved, brings about more love and expansion. 

That is why I must let you go.

Peace out cub scout,

Melanie

Is that harsh? Am I an asshole or am I an asshole?  Fuck, who care’s.  Seriously though, I really do have another job.  The only thing I don’t like about my other job is that I have to sit and answer phones, do laundry for free.  But if I can get at least 10 clients a week there, I’ll be making the same amount of money that I do at Envy, plus I don’t have to drive all the way to Glastonbury.

I told my parents all about Christina and my mom said that she knew people just like her, “That woman’s a bitch.  Don’t listen to her.”  Thanks mom!  It’s times like these that I’m thankful I still live at home.  They don’t ask for rent, they stick up for me and call my nemesis’ bitches for me.  I love them!

I could do without all the whistle’s and my dad pointing at me telling me I’m going to get raped and murdered and nobody will be there to help me in Nepal.  But I tell ya, when it comes down to it, I choose them over a husband and kid’s.  For now anyway….While I can.

And now your moment of zen:

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Filed under humor, journal, Massage therapy, rant

My Ex-boyfriends Girlfriends Hate Letter To Me

hi mel i just have something that has to be said im well aware that something happened between you and dave a few mths ago,with that being said i have something to say to you, 1st of all you were one of the few girls that dave introduced me to that i liked,thank you for ruining that as well as dave has royally screwed up also.the next time i see you i expect a huge apology from you as well.i deserve at least that much,also id appreciate if you and dave just not hang out for a very long time til him and i work things out as a couple weather you guys were drunk or not its not a dam excuse you guys did this in a public place infront of ppl i know as well you both made me look like a fool.im very angry at dave so i know its not all your fault hes def at fault as well..him saying sorry rite now to me is just words i dont believe a dam thing he says to me as well.frankly hes ruined our relationship and you too as well you both should of known better than be that stupid.i would of found out anyways..it will never happen again got it good..!! i have every rite to be upset ive gone thru hell and back with him and not about to give up but at this point i got nothing to fight for if he continues to be this stupid..no matter weather he was angry with me or not its not an excue understand?? so plz leave him alone for a long while til we are ok ok thank you…and keep your hands off of him cuz of this situation i cant even let him kiss me..so thanx again im sorry if i ruined your day but i have every rite to be upset..good bye and you could tell him i sent you this cuz ill tell him myself

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

This didn’t ruin my day at all!  In fact it did just the opposite by spicing up a rather dull day and made me feel young again.  I was sitting on the toilet when I read it and pondering what the hell she was talking about.  I really have no clue what she’s talking about.  I don’t remember doing anything with Dave a few months ago.  I haven’t slept with him in well over a year!

I’m not going to respond because I don’t know what to say.  And her grammer and punctuation are so bad that if she can’t take the time to write me a proper letter, than I’m not going to take the time to write her back.

These are the type of moments when I feel like I might be a  sociopath because I just don’t care.  Now that I think about it, all the character’s of Seinfeld were sociopaths because they would never care about something like this.  Is it wrong of me to want to live my life this way?

Maybe I’m a misanthropic sociopath – that’s why I’m miserable all the time.

Seinfeld (season 4)

Image via Wikipedia

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Filed under humor, journal, rant