I Gotta Go See About A Girl

What a deep and terrible loss to the world. Robin Williams. I mean, you just had to stare at the guy. It seemed that life shot out of him in a million different ways.

I don't understand mental illness. I really don't. I try, because I know I have friends that suffer from it, but I really fail. I don't understand how you can't make yourself stronger, better. I'm naïve, stubborn and full of myself, so I guess I thank God for that. I truly believe I can fix anything that is wrong with me. Little help from doctors and surgeons and friends at times, of course, but beyond that, I can make myself stronger and better. That's just the way my brain works.

But, I also know how deeply loved I am. Even in moments when I'm pissy and down or feeling lonely even in a big room of people. Even when I'm being bratty.  I know that I am loved and cherished beyond what I can even understand and that I am someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's friend, someone's example, and the love of someone's life and if I hurt, they hurt. I know that's how I feel about my loved ones.

I always felt that I was put on this earth to make people laugh, make them feel cared about, make them smile, take care of them, make sure they know that someone thinks about them even if they don't hear it every day. I avoid what feels bad to me and I soak in love and laughter like a human sponge. I can't get or give enough love. I really can't. I'm not always graceful about it as I have a lot of my mother in me, but I feel it at all times.

And I'm not one to put my sadness out there all the time for the masses on social media or anything, but when I'm sad I just say it out loud. "I'm so sad right now". Something about saying it, to someone, in the room with you, really releases it from you. And that friend will either be like "Get your shit together" or they'll say "I know you are, I am too, it will get better.".  And it does a little in that moment. And I instantly feel that.

If you're sad, tell someone. Because there are a lot of people like me in the world that will want to help you feel better. Or at the very least, (if I'm having a day that I'm more like my mother than my father) we'll tell you to get your shit together. It is a true miracle that we are all even here, walking around, so be kind to each other and support each other and put as much happiness into each other as you can because it's truly all that matters. At the end of it all, nobody is going to give a single fuck about what you had or how cool you thought you were, they're going to remember how you made them feel. Give yourself away, freely, openly. Fall in love with as many people, places and things as possible because we are here for a blink. Make it a good blink.

Things I'm Super Fucking Over

- Hormones.
- Pepperoni
- Cuticle care
- Prenatal vitamins
- My phone vibrating
- Cintas invoices
- The smell of my laundry room
- Shitty SYTYCD routines
- Eyebrow maintenance
- Pellegrino
- Texas
- Ebola
- Spring mix
- Cramping
- Appointments of any kind

High On Pills At Work

Dear Mr. Spina,

The Office of Melissa Johnson sincerely thanks you for your recent inquiry into the health and well being of her mouth. Her dental procedure went very well and, after several "pill parties", she is feeling much better! The working order of said mouth for certain "activities" is on a TBD basis for now, but should be up and running quite soon, and we appreciate your patience in this matter.

An EXTRA thanks is extended to you for choosing, for once, not to take the Lord's name in vain during your already profanity-laced jokefest regarding the manner in which Ms. Johnson injured her mouth. She has been listening to Take Me To Church by Hozier at your request on repeat, and yes, the lyrics are lovely and very fitting, a nice comfort in this trying time.

Again, Ms. Johnson is very grateful for your continued support and concern.

All The Very Best,



Melissa's Future New Assistant - Whose First Day Is August 4 (and I imagine this is how she'll write my emails)

PS: Ms. Johnson has declined your request to "take some of the pills off her hands".

A Good Old Fashioned Yank & Tweet

Definitely considering live tweeting my tooth being pulled today while I'm all gassed up. I don't know my dentist's policy on this, but he seems to really like me and I wore a low-cut tank top today so I have a feeling he'll say yes. For what he's charging me, he should really allow this. In fact, I should be able to dictate tweets to a dental assistant who should simultaneously be taking pictures and Instagraming them with filters of her choosing.

Last time I was on gas I remember having a fucking great time. In fact, every time I'm quite heavily sedated or medicated, I have a ball. After my last surgery, I was hitting on a male nurse WHILE HE WAS HOLDING A BEDPAN UNDERNEATH ME. Sexy as hell.  Adam Newman found it rather hilarious. I assume the nurse was turned on and had a raging boner as most men do when a woman is urinating in front of them.

Fuck inhibitions when you've got pharmaceutical grade drug brain, y'all. Ride that wave!

Maybe This Is Finally The Year I Move To Florida....

I think it's really weird that every year in the Midwest, no matter how butt-fuckingly brutal this last winter became, I am somehow still excited for fall.

Don't get me wrong, I'm soaking up every last minute of sunshine and warmth and if it's above 55 degrees, I'm in a sundress and loving life, but I smelled an apple a few days ago and longed for the fun things about autumn.

I am having a fantastic summer and I know there's still at least a month and a half left that is absolutely jam packed with events and concerts and fun, but I also saw Target stocked with all the trappings that incoming college freshmen will need for their dorms and I got a case of the warm fuzzies!!

It's hilarious to me that last Saturday, I was making out on beach up north at night with a sky full of stars and a warm breeze and fireworks going off in the distance and giggling about how it was literally the perfect rom-com night and wishing summer would never ever end. Now I'm getting excited for spooky clouds and color leaves and tailgating.

I don't think it helped that this last Friday we went to the Detroit City FC game and it absolutely felt like the drunk, rowdy adult version of going to a high school football game...if every single game was Homecoming. WHAT a fun time. But definitely reminded me of fall other than the fact that I was wearing jorts and sweating my tits off.

Whatever. I hear that it's going to be Polar Vortext v2.0 and I plan to spend the entire winter either snuggling or at formal charity events only so I better enjoy a snowless ground while that shit lasts!

Please, Please, Please, Come Back And Sing To Me....Dream Chris Martin

So, I'm just sleeping along like nobody's biz and I have the bestest dream.

I'm in a small crowd in a little venue that is pretty bright, looks maybe like a nice cocktail party in a beach house. Coldplay is playing on a stage. Yeah. Stay with me.

I'm grooving right along, trying not to make obvious orgasm faces because Chris Martin keeps making eye contact with me while playing. I tell myself "this is normal, performers do this when they can see the crowd". (John Legend made eye contact with me several times during a filming in real life and it was so fucking hard not to faint because DIMPLES) I'm just singing right along quietly, swaying and such and I feel a little person pair of hands on my legs. I look down and a small blond boy is snuggling right up to the back of my thigh. I see a person lean down to grab him off of me and I look up at the face and it's none other than fucking Gwyneth Paltrow.

She apologizes for her small son attaching himself to my glorious quad and I say that's totally ok and we strike up a conversation because she compliments my blouse. While Coldplay is still just rocking along, she and I discuss a few recipes we like and a restaurant I've been wanting to try and the sunscreens we prefer and my inner dialogue is all "Fuck yes! I'm now totally friends with GP and I'm about to be all up in the GOOP life, Spain, here we come!!" and then I decide to take the less-is-more approach to our new BFF status and get back to watching her consciously uncoupled babydaddy sing my feelings right back to me in hit song form.

While he's playing, he continues to make eye contact and as he's done with one song and the band decided to take a break, he comes down through the crowd and he's greeting people and he shakes my hand and walks away to talk to others. My pants are on fire, I'm trying SO hard to play it cool, but I assume my face looks like a high powered fan is blowing at it and every single one of my teeth is showing via my smile.

I go take a seat on a group of couches and ol GP's spidey senses must  have been tingling, because she comes to chill with me. Her kids are playing with me and we're shooting the shit about mutual friends like Taylor Swift (what??) and blahing and blahing and I'm marveling at how great she looks when she's not trying, but I also want a drink because always.

I get up to talk to a waiter because walking to the bar is for peasants, and over comes Chris Martin. He orders a cocktail as well and starts talking to me about English vodka (again, what??) and I'm just hanging on every word he says (exactly like my favorite Lifehouse song, weird) and we're chatting and he's making faces at me like he's totally relieved to have finally met me and then we discuss our love of deli sandwiches and delis in general. Not Jewish delis, so probably should call them sandwich shops. Then, just as I realize I should walk away, he's all "There's a great deli down the street and they have cupcakes, you want to go sometime?" and I almost explode into one giant glittery pile of yes, but I calmly just say "yeah! great." and he smiles and walks away. I don't even have time in this dream to realize he didn't grab my number because I then have to decide if it's cooler to be friends with Gwynie than to date her ex husband.

I think about it for about 4.1 seconds and realize "screw that vegan bitch, this man is all English smiles and stage hopping and writes love songs that literally cause me to burst into tears, plus she cheated on him according to Vanity Fair, so she's out, he's in". I don't throw my drink in her face or anything, I calmly go back and sit down and pretend she doesn't have eyes and didn't witness that entire encounter. I think Ill just pretend nothing happened as experience has told me to just keep shit to yourself until you are full-on confronted and absolutely have to say something.  She can suck it. And bloody seventh hell, I'll leave that talk to him, he's the one who stayed with that blond ball and chain for so long. I smile to myself in my dream as I have reached peace with the situation and I think Melissa J. Martin will look AMAZEBALLS on my stationery because we are now in love.

And then I wake up.

Fuck you alarm. Fuck you right in your stupid ass.

The Monday After July 4th Weekend

Is just.... the fucking.....worst.