I’m moving my blog one more time. I had to set up a brand new account to make sure the Angry Mob of Melanie Haters don’t follow me by clicking on my gravatar. This is a pain in the arse…
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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?”
“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.
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.
I was at my poorest about 10 days ago. My car broke down, bills were due, rent was due and I had zero dollars.
So what do I do? I contacted a Groupon sales rep and together him and I decided that I should sell 400 massage coupons. Yes, you heard correctly – 400 massage coupons! There goes my life for the next several weeks. My money problems will be no longer, but now I actually have to work like a human being. I have to get up everyday and go to the office and actually work.
My brain is not functioning. I’m freaking out a bit and feel that I have so much to do – so much! My room is a mess, I havent showered in days, I’m still beat up from labor day weekend even though today is Wednesday.
I have clients calling me that I need to call back and Groupon hasn’t even started yet.
I have to buy more lotion, sheets, face cradle covers – get an hourly day planner instead of the monthly one I have now. So much to do…
I have to get out of bed and shower. Yes, that’s a good start. I’m in trouble arent’ I?
Anyway, I went to Vermont with Amy and Dave this past weekend. It was awesome. Dave and I taken his motorcycle for the leisurely four-hour ride. It was gorgeous. Amy’s log cabin is brand spanking new. It’s made out of pine logs and it still smells like fresh cut pine.
I can’t write, I have too much to do and I can’t focus. I made a YouTube video of Vermont – that should sum up the trip.
I’m a lazy, conceited, degenerate who thinks she can accomplish anything she wants in life. I’m conceited in thinking that what others work so hard for, come’s easy and natural for me. I’m lazy because since I can accomplish anything, why bother with the actual doing part? I’m a degenerate because my laziness made my mind and body slack.
So there you have it. That’s my story. Melanie the conceited, lazy, degenerate.
But the older I get, the more I want to actually do the doing part. And the harder the doing part is, the better. I don’t like to waste my time with small-time accomplishments. No, not this hot banana – me being the hot banana. Well, climbing the Himalayas made me feel more like a flaccid banana peel, but lets erase that from memory shall we?
I can accomplish anything no matter what people tell me. She is able who thinks she is able.
So I signed myself up for the Tough Mudder.
“Tough Mudder events are hardcore 10-12 mile obstacle courses designed by British Special Forces to test your all around strength, stamina, mental grit, and camaraderie.” So says the website.
10-12 miles….I can barely run half a mile. I could never climb the rope in gym class or do one measly chin-up and when it comes to going under water, I almost drowned twice! Towards the end of the obstacle course, I’ll be running through spaghetti-like live electrical wires. Yes, I will be willingly electrocuting myself.
Electricity is just a myth…pffff. Also, we live on the back of a giant turtle. Or is it the other way around?
Guide me old wise turtle.
Here’s a look at what I’m about to do. They sugar coated it to make people join up.
I’ll be doing the October Tri-State event in Jersey, so that gives me plenty of laying around time to prepare. I wish I still had my Sheena underpants from when I was five to put under (or over) my super hero attire.
After I finish the race and aquire my Sheena strength and beauty, I can be all the more conceited and confident enough to talk to this guy:
He can fill my baby bucket with his sperm larvae any day. And that’s just what I’ll tell him.
Me – “Here’s an idea; You, me, my baby bucket and your orbs of sperm larvae – what do you say? Shall we combine these ingredients? Don’t forget I have a bucket to do it in.”
He will embrace my lyrical wit with his strong rippling biceps and hold me until the world makes sense again.
The world stopped making sense as soon as I got back from Nepal. Now I’m back here living at home at 32, working for my brothers girlfriend and binge drinking almost every night while feeling lonely and incomplete.
Maybe this turtle can help me:
Most likely not. Everyone here know’s that Michelangelo was the goof-off turtle. It looks like he’s sporting a Moose knuckle in this pic.
My Kelty trekking pack stares longingly at me from the corner of my bedroom saying, “When are you going to sew this fucking Annapurna patch on me?”
I keep forgetting that I have to stop working for my brothers girlfriend and start my own business to make money. Enough money to go somewhere again. That’s all I want to do – leave.
My friends still don’t care to see me, I stay drunk all day like an idiot, I have no ambition for anything and I work six hours a week. Seriously Mel? Is that what you want out of life? No! I refuse to be a flaccid banana peel!
I think I’ll have better luck in asking this guy for advice:
But he was so old in this movie. He’s probably not around anymore.
Damn, I have to go to bed. Tomorrow might be a long day.
Kristie keeps flooding my phone with texts. She’s been texting me promptly at 9 am everyday since we met, wishing me a “Good Morning!” She know’s I’m not awake at this ungodly hour and settles with my 12 o’clock “Good Afternoon” text back.
- Tough Mudder Recap (theeverydaywarrior.com)
- My First Tough Mudder (danvega.org)
- Ready or Not….I am Tough Mudder Bound! (theeverydaywarrior.com)
- Runners Eager to Face Fire, Mud and More at Tough Mudder (inspired-weightloss.com)
- Those Tough Mudder-Fudders from Melbourne (yearofexperiences.wordpress.com)
- Connor’s a Tough Mudder Fudder (yearofexperiences.wordpress.com)
- Tough Mudder: Who’s comin’ with me?? (ithoughtthiswouldbeeasier.com)
- Tough Mudder! (mysubjunctive.wordpress.com)
- Can Team Beef Be A Tough Mudder? (agricultureproud.com)
- Warrior Dash VS Tough Mudder (theshadowfighter.wordpress.com)
- Guess What We’re Doing? The Tough Mudder – 12 Miles in the Mud (2wired2tired.com)
This is me I say! I’m so freaking sensitive and gentle and loving. It sucks being this good when everyone else are wacko’s.
My Mom tells me she’s going to take up smoking Pot while I’m gone. She doesn’t know how else she’ll get through it. My Dad on the other hand, is all giggles. He read my Nepal book about the trek I’m going on and was laughing at all the close calls I’m going to experience.
I never seen him this excited for me. He thinks I’m nuts, but he’s happy that I’m nuts and doing something like this. He gave me a holy pendant to wear around my neck. He says its been everywhere around the world except Nepal. He wore it when he was in the military and it originally belonged to my grandmother.
I’m leaving today for my adventure. I don’t know how I feel about it, but there’s no turning back now. It’s only for a month, but out of the 384 months that I’ve been on this planet, this is the one I’m going to remember the most.
Mom – “I can just picture you in the Himalayas with your little backpack and that look on your face.”
Me – “What look?”
Mom – “That look that you get sometimes. I can picture it.”
Me – “What does the look look like?”
Mom – “I can see you looking all around up at the mountains and wondering where the hell you are and what you’re doing there.”
Me – “Oh, that look.”
- What I’m bringing to the Annapurna Circuit (melanieslifeonline.wordpress.com)
- My last day of work and an ode full of toe rot all in todays special installment of “Melanie’s Blog” (melanieslifeonline.wordpress.com)
- Trekking the Himilayas for a month? Sure, why not. (melanieslifeonline.wordpress.com)
- What I did yesterday (melanieslifeonline.wordpress.com)
I had a bad dream last night. I don’t remember what it was, but I “woke” myself up to clear my head and reset it for a better dream to infiltrate. Only, I didn’t actually wake up. I was still asleep in my bed dreaming I was awake.
“I wonder what it would feel like if I had someone to hold me right now.”
As soon as I thought it, I felt someone’s presence next to me. I felt pressure from their body next to mine. My hypnagogic head assumed it was Dave, my ex-boyfriend, whom I don’t think of romantically anymore, but just feeling he was there next to me, holding me – it felt wonderful.
“Ahhhh, that’s better.”
“Um, no. Wait a tick. Aren’t I home? Alone in my bed? Shit. I’m dreaming. But it feels so real!”
I laid there not moving for a while. Assessing the realness of the situation. The pressure from his body spooning mine – I wondered what could be creating it? My excessive amount of blankets? A lopsided pillow? Then I felt movement from this non-existent entity. I felt them put their arm on my shoulder.
“Holy fuck! This is incredible!”
That was my limit before getting spooked. I had to wake up for real.
“Eye’s open! Eye’s open!”
I thought I opened them, but I still saw complete darkness. I remembered I was sleeping with my eye mask on. Without bothering to pull it off my face, I reached up to turn on the little lamp next to my bed. I reach up, fumble with the switch and turn it on. Still darkness. Then I feel my body still laying in bed – I have not turned the lamp on. I’m still in the hypnagogic state!
“Whoever’s playing these games on me – NOT cool.”
Finally I managed to pry my eyelids open. They felt so heavy. Once they were open for real, I knew for sure I was awake. I turned on my little lamp beside me and the tv. I watched QVC (one of three channels I get in my room), and renewed my hate for the salespeople on that show and the dreadfully cheap products aimed at old retired folks wanting to spend their money until their time (and the products time) was up.
I turned the volume down and fell back to sleep within minutes and dreamt I was singing in front of my friends. I mean I was singing beautifully for them. Everyone hushed up to listen and was so amazed at my abilities – I was amazed too. Then my alarm – BAH BAH BAH – woke me up for work. And here I am.
I vaped an exorbitant amount of nicotine last night. Usually I vape the zero milligrams, but sprang for the twelve to quell my fix. Bad idea I guess.
My internet and phones just shut off. WTF? I can’t publish this post goddamnit.
- Runny Nose + Headache + 2 Paracetamol = Nightmare (hotpinkshimoda.wordpress.com)
- today (doctortisms.wordpress.com)
- Day 95: Good dreams (taylearningphotography.wordpress.com)
- Second Chance (myeverydaystruggles.wordpress.com)
- A Nightmare and an Epiphany (rosecityremona.wordpress.com)
- hello Manila: where did you put my passport? IV (pg12and3fourths.wordpress.com)
- The Eye (unsanityfiles.wordpress.com)
- Insomniac (confessionsofaserialprocrastinator.wordpress.com)
- When my Dreams conquered my reality (pieyouel.wordpress.com)
- Dream Aspired love (tenesiateriann.wordpress.com)
- Lucid Dreaming (lightandlovespiritguide.wordpress.com)
- Til’ we fall asleep tonight (halvardsson.wordpress.com)
- “I” in the World of Dreams (my.psychologytoday.com)
- Wake up!! (morninggloryinspirations.wordpress.com)
- Sleepwalker (somethingaboutsarah.wordpress.com)
- I have a horrible, horrible nightmare about Scout (notesfromthefunnyfarm.wordpress.com)