Tag Archives: Alcohol intoxication

Patience Padawan

In my last post I wrote about being happier and more aware with each passing day, but my goal in life is not to obtain happiness, but to experience everything.  I want to go out there in the world and get dirty, play, love, hurt, feel – to be anything other than numb.  The more hurt I feel, the stronger I become and I’m able to handle anything life throws at me.  As long as I can let go and roll with it.  People are who they are, they do what they do – it’s who they are and I must accept it.  I have no choice really.  No one does.

I’m great at rolling with the tides.  That’s what makes me a great traveler – Bring It is what I say.  This life is trivial, laugh when you can.

What I was thinking today during a massage:

99.99% of the universe is made up of anti-matter.  99.99% of our bodies are made up of space.  99.99% of an atom is space.  We are more not here, than here.  And the matter we can see in the universe, is only a square inch of a peal of paint on the very top of the empire state building.  Does the entirety of the empire state building merely exist to support that one flake of paint?

Everything in nature has a purpose.  Each cell is awake having a conscious and a purpose.  Nothing in our bodies is for naught – doesn’t that apply to the universe as well?

Our brains are made up of atoms, those tiny objects that are comprised mostly of space.  They facilitate our thinking, waking, mind.  If 99.99% of our brain is space, than how dumb are we?

I massaged my client  (a mild-mannered, always smiling asian man) with my black aya eyes forming over my pupils like cataracts.


The shit I think about is trippy.

Where is my client?  I’m sitting here waiting.  It’s nice blogging an all, but I want these Groupon people done and over with.  She would be number 97 out of 400.  I’m massaging a total of 8 hours today, but only 3 count as new Groupon people, the rest I had before.  Okay, I’m going to call her.  Damn it I hate calling people.

Bah she’s not coming in.  She rescheduled online, but it didn’t go through so now I have no idea when her next appointment is.  I wish I kept her on the phone dammit.

I went to Birkram Yoga with Amy the other day.  Let me just tell you, Hole – Lee – Shit.  I walked into the room, 104 degree’s, humidity 75% and I wanted to turn around a walk back out.  It felt claustrophobic, I couldn’t breath.  It was my first reaction to the heat – my flight or fight response.  But I stayed.  I stayed for the whole 90 minutes and did every single pose that the instructor allowed me to do.  And guess what?  I liked it!  I actually friggin’ liked it.  How weird am I?  Very weird indeed.

The thing I liked most about it wasn’t the poses, the strength building or stretches.  It was having no choice but to remain calm.  My actions had to be deliberate and thought out.  My mind had to be clear, there was no other choice.  Doing otherwise would’ve caused the heat to rattle my senses and have me run out screaming.

It taught me patience, calmness and humility.  Having acceptance of what my body is capable of doing, and the understanding that I can improve upon it.  It takes meditation to a whole new level.  I was back in the inipi sweat lodge, surrendering and trusting the heat.  The experience I had with the inipi helped immensely.  I was smiling when doing it – actually smiling while holding poses – I was just so content and relaxed – it was a happy, safe place to be.

We sweat our asses off and my hair was drenched when it was over.  We went back to Billy O’s for lunch.  It was perfect.  I had one beer.  I’m allowed one beer.

Speaking of beer, Dave wants me to go to a birthday party on Saturday.  This is the moment of truth.  Do I go or not?  I love Dave damn it.  That night after Billy O’s, when he was shit faced riding his motorcycle – I was so worried about him getting home.  I haven’t heard from him for the next three days after that and started freaking out that maybe something happened.  As soon as I heard he was okay, I calmed down.  I can usually go weeks without hearing from the guy, and I’ll be fine.  What I don’t know, can’t worry me.  But when I know he’s on that damn bike drinking, I worry.

I care about him a lot.  So, I don’t know.  I can’t ditch the guy.  Even if he did read my blog, he would probably still be my friend.  That’s just who he is.  He bends over and takes it up the ass from others just like I do.

I don’t care what he does, he’s my friend and I’ll always have his back.

I was talking to my last client about dealing with bad influences in your life.  She said it’s important to set boundaries with them.  When it comes to family and friends – the difficult ones that you’re faced with seeing – you just have to set boundaries.

I have so much fun with Dave that my boundaries get smeared and rubbed off with beer.  It’s something I’m going to have to work on.  Self discipline is never fun.

I sent my no-show client an email.  I hope she gets it before her “scheduled” appointment.  I hate technical details like that.  I don’t want to worry about it.  I am so on top of my clients shit that it’s not even funny.  I double check, no triple check everything.  I triple checked her email before sending it out.

I’m good at this organization crap.  I have all the right tools.  First the tools, than the product.



Filed under journal

Oh Dave….

I met Dave at Billy O’s last night.  He was a big drunken mess.  When I first spotted him sitting there by himself on the bar stool, I felt like a fool for meeting him out.  This isn’t my life anymore.  Drinking and getting drunk served its purpose and now’s the time to get it together.

Dave was not together.  He was slurring his words, hair all disheveled, falling off the bar stool and dropping stuff.  To me, he seemed depressed.  Why else would someone do this to themselves unless they’re madly depressed?

He was driving his motorcycle.

Me – “Are you serious Dave?  How can you do this?  You’re going to AA classes and here you are like this.”

Dave – “I’m responsible.  I’m this close to being an adult.”

He held his two fingers close together.

Me – “No you’re not.  You can’t drive.”

In the not so distant past, I was with Dave at the beginning of each drunken night.  I was right there beside him having a blast and getting shit faced and then we would both drive off on his motorcycle to our next destination.  I was a fool back then.  I lost count how many times we driven drunk like that.  Me on the back of his bike, my foot scraping the pavement when he leaned over a little too far.

Dave – “You okay?”

Me – “Yeah, that was a close one though.”

He shot his gun outside my car window while I was driving.  We were running parallel next to a lake, beyond the lake was a town.  Dave fired his gun towards the lake and I closed my eyes hoping he was aiming at the water and not the town.

He does hard drugs – the ones I stay away from, and gets in fights with people over the drugs thinking that they are cheating him out of his portion.

I had to blow into his breathalyzer attached to his truck because he was too drunk to do it.  The truck would not start otherwise.  Then I had to repeatedly blow into the breathalyzer while he was driving.

He used Heather like a slab of roast beef, he’s still banging an emotionally inept girl (yesterday) and now he’s slapping his animal salami with my friend who likes the attention from guys.  She met us at the bar last night and I was glad to see her, glad she was there.  I was hoping she would take him home with her so I wouldn’t have to be the one to worry about him.  I’m not one to babysit.  My one harshness in me is not helping others who don’t help themselves.  Their problems are not my concern – it’s up to them to fix their own shit.

But then I had the added concern of him getting touchy feely with me while my friend whom he let’s play with his skin flute is standing right there to witness it.

Dave – “Give me a hug Melanie.  Come on give me a hug.”

His arms outstretched with a big goofy grin on his face.

Mel – “Okay.  There you go – Yay a friend hug.”

I patted his back.  He hugged me tight and didn’t want to let go.

My friends from long ago were there.  They are good friends, but the kind you don’t call or see much, but we go way back.  One of them was giving me the eye.  He had a look of confused disgust on his face.  I saw him looking at me and I read his mind.

His mind – “Why are you with that loser?”

I lifted my eyebrows and shrugged  to say “yeah I know, I don’t get it either…”

Almost the entire bar dislikes Dave.  They hate seeing him with me.  The bartender doesn’t like him, Amy doesn’t want anything to do with him.

She’s showing me his true colors.  Kristie tried showing me his true colors, but I was blind and didn’t want to hear it.  I’m a loyal good friend to have so I try to stay impartial in arguments amongst friends.

However, I like Amy.  I like her a lot and so I’m listening to her.  She know’s a lot of shit and my brother knows a lot of shit, so together they’re making me see.  Amy is the same age as my brother, so it’s like I have two older siblings looking out for me, not just one.

I’m stuck.  I hate abandoning people.  Dave’s hazardous to himself and to others, but as my role as his friend, should I help him?  Is he calling out for help?  I can’t just turn away when things get serious – when there really is a problem to deal with.  I know what it’s like being abandoned, and its a wretched feeling.  Both emotionally and physically, it’s a feeling of complete wretchedness.

So, I don’t know.  I’ll just keep it at that for now.  It’s not like I can see Dave that much anymore anyway.  I wish I didn’t go out last night because even with the little amount of alcohol I drank, I still feel like crap today.  I feel like crap and I’m in a crappy mood.

It’s now the next day.  The cleaning lady was here last night.  I was giving a girl a massage at around 8pm and we could both hear the cleaning lady outside the door huffing and puffing and swearing to herself.

Me – “Oh, sorry about that.  The cleaning lady is grouchy.”

We both start laughing.  Every time we heard a grumble, we broke out in laughter.  It feels so good to laugh about it.  At least now I’m not the only one who see’s it.

I feel great today.  I went home after work, played a little Skyrim and fell asleep at 11:30 like a normal person.  I can’t drink anymore like I used to.  I feel wonderful and I’m making my clients feel wonderful.  And I’m figuring out a plan of attack when dealing with my budget.  I have to stop spending.  It’s only the first month, so I have no idea how much I’m actually making in comparison to how much I can spend.  I need to talk to an accountant, get my taxes figured out, file away my receipts, and set up a daily budget.  Now’s the time to do it.  Once that’s configured, I can spend without worry – one less thing to worry about.

I’ll get home tonight at a reasonable hour, so I can clean out my closet.  I’m looking forward to it like you would not believe.  I’m weird like that.  I just bought myself a new pair of awesome leather boots for the winter, but I don’t have any room for them.  I need to make room for the things I love.  It’s a feng shui thing.  If you make room for the things you love, you’ll receive more of it.

Whats in my car right now?

A 4 inch twin size memory foam mattress topper

2 platypus water bottles

A lamp

A handy dry bag to store a roll of toilet paper in for camping trips

Roller blades



Old straw hat


Grocery bags

Garbage and lots of it

I also need to clear out my car.  I love Esmeralda the Escort, I need to take care of her better.

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Filed under journal, Massage therapy

Melanie’s late night ramblings

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie Ala Mode

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie Ala Mode (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I never fit in well with women gatherings. Last week I went to a pampered chef party / purse party / birthday party all in one at Kristie’s house. It was me and a bunch of her girlfriends. They talked about cookware, purses, recipes, buying stuff. I talked to the only guy there – a 15-year-old boy named Gabe, Kristie’s son. He seemed more fresh and awake than the others.

I never fit in with a group of girls. I especially don’t fit in without alcohol. I sit there with a hazy mist over my eyes wondering how I got there, and what I should be doing now that I’m there.

Give me something to grab onto! I don’t care about buying matching tote bags or a frying pan. I don’t care about your grandma’s recipe for rhubarb pie. I’ll cook it, eat it and nothings left but empty plates. Why don’t you make the pie for me instead of telling me an unrealized grouping of ingredients? I’m not going to group them together. I have only me to cook for, and I’m not worth the trouble.

People seem flat. Talking about the same conventional stuff. None of it really matters. They meld together into one big clump having no discernible traits. Sure there might be a fun drunk one, but she’s a commonplace drunk. Fitting in accordingly. The only way to see any of them individually would be to take a rubber scraper bought from Pampered Chef and scrape one woman away from the clump. I would scrape them all apart, like making cookies on an oiled sheet pan, separating each one to see what kind of cookie they are. They can’t possibly all be the same cookie.

Attempting to interact with a group discussing dish towels tells me nothing and leaves me dry.

My world consists only of experiences, people and learning. I’m not attached to anything material. If my tv blows out, I would say “the hell with it” and move on. If my socks don’t match, I say fuck it.

Women in group discussions such as this, communicate in parallel lines. They run side by side, never to intersect. What’s the point?

Not all women are like this. But most of them are. Especially in large groups led by Kristie.

I love Kristie, I really do. But even separated from the pack, she still runs parallel. What is it she lacks that very few other people have?

I love men because they’re similar to me. They get me. I love beer, going to dive bars not caring how I look or how the person I’m talking to looks. I love playing pool, riding motorcycles and not being committed to anyone or anything. I’m like a man in many ways. I hate talking about how I feel, or sharing my emotions because nothing ever comes of it – NOTHING. And I’m left with a bunch of dirty plates and a splattered, tattered old recipe for grouping together torment.

I love my male counterparts. I love how I can hop on the back of Dave’s bike, pop in my earbuds and tune everything out. Guys have a great ability to tune everything out that isn’t necessary to the moment. That’s why they make such good mechanics, engineers and mathematicians – they leave out the bullshit.

I can be like one of the women. I can slide right in with them, get excited over wedding dresses and cute baby clothes – I can tell myself to do anything and do it, but it’s selling out. It’s cheap and lazy and the cowards way, the defeatist’s way out.

Relinquishing yourself to religion and relying solely on God to tell you what to do is spiritually lazy. Just like relinquishing your individuality and relying solely on others to tell you who you are and what is socially acceptable and normal, is lazy. I never cared about being normal anyway.

There are two certainties in life that should unite us with individuality and love. One certainty is that each one of us, in a sliver of a moment, was the youngest person on the planet. Cold, shivering, wet and blue – we were born with the very first unique double helix sequence of DNA strands that make us individually unmatched by any other who ever existed before us and will EVER exist for all of eternity. We should embrace that we are all uncommon and solitary . The other certainty is that we are all going to die. The people living on earth at this very moment will cease to be in 80 years give or take. That means in 80 years there will be an entirely new population inhabiting the earth. And it’s not science fiction, it’s fact.

We are here at the same time. We will die at the same time. Everything in-between is either eaten away by hate, leaving nothing but empty broken dishes, or filled with a warm, lovingly made rhubarb pie from grandma. People make no sense to me. Wouldn’t they pick the pie? I see pie all around, but very few are handing out slices. People are idiots.

I drink to cope with the idiots. I drink to lose myself only to reset myself. Everything resets the next day. Too tired to do anything but sleep, letting myself sleep guilt-free. Like a newborn babe – not a care in the world. Nothing to do but recover and grow my strength back until the idiots rain down on me again, pulling the booze closer to my lips.

Boom boom POW them chickens be jacken my style, think I’ll head to the bar and get drunk for a while.

I need to chew valerian root and soak my tampon in vodka.

Man – “Excuse me ma’am but are you drunk?”

Me – “No but my vagina is. You can take it home with you and it won’t remember a thing tomorrow.”

I went to a Renaissance fair the other day. I went to see a tarot reader who said I was going into a major depression anywhere from now until six months from now. It was the moon card that came up – not a good one to draw. He also said that next year around May I’m going to have to take a lions leap into the unknown, or I can choose to stay comfortable where I am now. We shall see. I’ve always been a big supporter of comfort. Comfort always supported me.

I’m not depressed. I just want to be left alone in a warm, hazy place. I want solitude – I crave it. But I always find myself out in the world, drinking it in, running from the emptiness, draining my energy until I have no choice but to be left alone to sleep it off.

Anyone can get married, anyone can have babies, anyone can get a job that swallows time and pays so you can buy shit and buy shit to put your shit in, but not everyone can do what I do. Not everyone can stay up till 2:30AM writing random thoughts into a little nook in the world. Or can they? Yes, anyone could I ‘spose. Okay, nevermind then.

Anyone can do the things they are “supposedly” meant to do. And then they celebrate, pat themselves on their backs thinking they’re better than everyone else who still haven’t “made” it. I’ve never been jealous of anybody – I never met a person I’d rather be. We are all equal, so I have just as good a chance as all those other suckers out there waking up at 6AM, brushing their teeth and going to a job that never changes. It holds them and keeps them in place. I have no place, now that’s brave.

I pamper my courage with cobo shots and jaeger rocks.

Rolling home at 5AM

with a beer tucked in my hand,

crushed empties topple the driveway,

in a sad display.

I clamber out of my car,

luminous like a quasar.

I stumble, I swagger,

my belly getting fatter.

It’s two-thousand and twelve,

my sanity shelved.

I got nothing to lose,

my dominations in booze.

That’s why they call me a barfly.

Now slice me off a piece of your

Grandma’s rhubarb pie.

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Filed under Odes, random thoughts

Brain Fuck

Drunk Pumpkin

Drunk Pumpkin (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Wow I just re-read my last post and it super sucks. How embarrassing. Stupid Drunk Tree ode. I’m drunk right now and it still sucks.

I was trying to do a stream of conscious ode – one that I pluck out from the heavens and let it flow through me. Ha! Never again! It’s Angelo Sax-ton-of-shit.

Kristie is becoming a little like the hounds in my Drunk Tree ode. She calls and texts me non-stop. Stealing my candy apples from my withered double-jointy limbs . She invited me to go to the movies this coming Saturday, but Dave invited me to go see Godsmack at the meadows. Movies verses a freaking fun time tailgating at the meadows watching a bunch of kick ass bands play? I’m sorry but I’ll take the meadows over a movie any day.

Anyway, she was pissed that I chose the meadows over her. She called me today sounding like she wanted to stop hanging out with me because of that.

Kristie – “I’m sorry to put this on ya Mel, but I can’t deal with the games people play.”

Me – “What games?”

Kristie – “I’m going to be honest and say I’m hurt about you ditching me on Saturday.”

Me – “When I went to Sliders?”

Kristie – “No, this Saturday coming up. You’re going to see the concert and we were supposed to see a movie.”

I didn’t know what to say. Yes I’m going to see the concert, would rather see the concert than go to a stinking movie. The movies will always be there. Besides, she was going with other people – she had other people!

Me – “…..oh, uhhh. Well I really like Godsmack. You can come! These concerts are a lot of fun!”

Her friend, Ania, is also going to the concert. We’re planning on tailgating together and see the show after. It wasn’t like she wasn’t invited.

People are effing crazy! I invited her to go, but no. She was still pissed. The only way I could make it up to her was to hang out with her tonight. So we hung out, had fun. It’s weird because when I’m with her, she’s completely fine. She’s cool, actually. But give it a few days that go by and she’s back to freak-out mode.

I don’t get rid of people so easily. I have trouble ignoring others. But with Kristie it’s like if I mess up once, I’m out. And I didn’t even mess up! Not really…

I’m 32 and met a shit load of people in my time (between working 20 different jobs and going out so damn much). I learned about the Turning Point in relationships. The turning point is a time in a friendship when people start getting weird. They just drop away. I call them a few times to see whats up, but inevitably they vanish. How can this happen so quickly with Kristie? I mean seriously?

We hung out tonight and she loves me, she really does. She even announced to the bar that it was our four week anniversary. But earlier today she sounded like she was getting rid of me.

I need my me time. I LOVE my me time. I love it when I’m not needed or wanted anywhere. This is why I’m single – I love being alone! Why do I love it? There’s no responsibility or hassle. I am free to do as I please. I can wake up at 2pm, go for a hike or Rollerblade in the sunshine, dancing with my iPod and then go home to read a book or play video games. It’s wonderful and I love every goddamn minute of it.


And there is a huge but.

I also love my friends!

The Turning Point happens when my friends discover my need to be alone. It’s a small window of time when I prefer not to answer my phone and just enjoy my own company. That’s when they stop calling altogether.

When I was younger, I was infamous for not returning calls. But I gotten a lot better since then. I make it a point to return calls and texts (I hate texts). But it’s not enough. It’s like I can’t even let one day go by without getting heat from it.

Is this why my ex-friends hate me so much? No, that’s not it. I’m just outdated in their book. They know I’ll always be there, so they stopped bothering with talking to me. I’m secondary to everyone. I’m secondary in everyone’s life because I put myself first.

Being secondary feels just as bad as being Kristie’s first. I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

I don’t blame them, but I mean, what the fuck? How can this happen so quickly with Kristie when I only met her last month? We’ve been hanging out ALL THE TIME! There’s really no other explanation other than she’s demanding more than I can give.

In the meantime, I’m texting my ex-friends asking them why they hate me so and if they can call me (which they didn’t). They are like family to me so they can get away with not giving a fuck about me. That’s the sucky thing about being friends with someone for too long. They eventually stop caring about you.

I grew up with an overbearing mother. She’s STILL overbearing and coddling and at this very moment is asleep upstairs in her recliner – dreaming about making me breakfast tomorrow morning. But because of her, I can’t deal with people calling and texting me non-stop wondering where I am 24/7. I have my mother for that and I’m trying to escape it!

Maybe I am a crappy friend for not paying attention to people. Maybe I’m crappy for returning phone calls a week later. But I’m still here dammit!

Basically, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Anything I do makes people upset. My ex-friends get mad at me for asking questions as to whats wrong and my new friends get mad at me for not asking anything at all. Everyone is brain fucking me! I don’t know what’s right and whats wrong.

And I swear to god, K (the one who left me in Nepal), is the biggest brain fucker of them all! She does and says things purposely to hurt me. She abandoned me on the side of a fucking mountain in a third world country when all I wanted to do was climb up the damned thing. She refuses to talk to me about it and now I’m stuck in limbo. Not only limbo, but completely cut-off from everyone because she stole all my friends away. Everyone’s poisoned against me. And why? What the hell did I do?

I have no desire to be friends with her again. None what-so-ever. It’s easy to decide that since she stopped talking to me.

But I’m the bad guy in all this.

I’m the type of person to stay with one thing and stick with it. I order the same food at restaurants, stick with drinking my same ol’ trusty beer, going to the same bars, same people. I’ve been wearing the same pajama’s since high school. I get comfortable and make myself a sweet little nest of noncomplaint, no stress decadence. But people have to brain fuck me.

Did you know part of the argument K gave me in Nepal was that I’m too laid back? Is that even an argument? People are fucking nuts!

But I’m the crazy one in all this. I just want to say fuck it and be done with them but its so hard to do when I have no idea what I did wrong and why they’re doing this to me. Plus I’ve been friends with them for a long time. I tried everything in my power to talk to them tonight, but they wanted nothing to do with me.

I created monsters is what. Everyone I touch turns into a monster. Everyone gets weird in a relationship – there’s no tooling around it. I drive everyone insane.

And now I have to go to a freaking baby shower where everyone is going to be there and I’ll be the odd person out. I’ll be ganged up on, laughed at and who know’s what else. That’s going to happen on Sunday, the day after Godsmack. I’m going to be hungover and grouchy let alone miserable.

I really want to leave the country. I want to roam around the world and never come back.


Filed under journal