This is my journal entry from October 30, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Book 5 — Daily Autobiography — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I talked to my massage therapist today, and how do you think that went? Exactly how you’d expect. She was like, that’s crazy. Like actually said that. That is crazy. No way. Not interested. Thanks though. She said this has happened with a few male clients before, where they get into a place of being lonely, desperate, and sad, and then start thinking there’s something there that isn’t. And I’m like, oh damn, that sounds like you, bitch. Yeah. That’s you. She said the physical touch and the closeness of massage messes with people’s heads, makes you think there’s meaning where there isn’t. And when she laid it out like that, it actually made a lot of sense.
She said, “Don’t you see? We’re not compatible.” And she’s right. The stuff I said I want in a woman, she doesn’t have most of that. And instead of fighting that or trying to spin it, I was like, yeah, I know. I’m actually glad you said you’re not interested because good. Now I can move on. I woke up this morning already thinking I’d been in a little bit of a crazy spot last night, like I wasn’t fully thinking straight, and today just confirmed it. I’m honestly grateful I could get that whole idea of being my massage therapist’s boyfriend out of my head, especially since she already has a guy. I know that’s fucked up, but I’m glad I didn’t let it linger.
What’s actually cool is that being that honest didn’t damage the friendship at all. If anything, it made it safer. When you can say the crazy thoughts out loud and have them land without blowing everything up, it creates a real sense of trust. We had a great conversation. It felt grounded again. And she helped me see something important about my thinking lately, which is that I’ve been playing offense too hard. Like I need to be out there actively trying to find girls, trying to get them to like me, trying to make something happen. And after talking to her, I realized my thinking gets kind of fucked up when I do that. I’m a little too ready to let somebody new into my life, and that’s how bad decisions get made.
Because let’s say my massage therapist had said yes. Then what? She breaks up with her boyfriend, we’re together, and then what— we’re suddenly aligned? No. She straight up said, “I do not want kids.” Hard no. And I want more kids. There’s no scenario where that magically works. And I’m sitting there like, what the fuck was I thinking? I don’t even understand how I let that idea run as far as it did. Unless little Jerry was doing all the thinking. Yeah. Little Jerry had the wheel, big brain completely shut off. That big bitch on top of my shoulders was not operational.
So now I’m thinking it’s time to play more defense. Not chase. Not hunt. Not force things. If anything, I should be protecting myself—from predatory women, from women that don’t really like me, from women I’m not actually that into but could still make a mess of my life. I can still put out good vibes. I can still be friendly, loving, open. But I don’t need to be trying to pick random girls up just because I’m lonely. Because that could go horribly wrong. I could pick someone totally wrong, knock her up, and end up in some miserable situation paying child support to someone I barely know and barely seeing the kid. That’s not hypothetical. That’s exactly what one of my friends is living through right now.
I’m not interested in that being the next kid I have. I want something real. So I’m going to keep checking my thinking, keep watching how my mind spirals, and make sure my actions actually line up with the life I say I want instead of whatever impulse happens to be loudest in the moment.
My massage therapist also commented on something else, which I appreciated. She said, “You know, the way you handled the woman I met, I wouldn’t have done it that way.” I’m like, what do you mean? And she said she probably wouldn’t have sent the first message the next morning at all, especially asking the woman I met to do something right after hanging out the night before. And when the woman I met sent that response back, she said she probably wouldn’t have replied to that either. She even said I might not have gotten her phone number at the event in the first place. Just enjoy the moment, enjoy the conversation, and then see if you run into each other again. Give it space. Let it breathe.
When I thought about that, I was like, yeah, I can see how I set myself up to have hurt feelings. When the woman I met said she wasn’t available to date, that should have been a full stop sign. Like, oh, okay, brakes on, we’re not going any further. She’s not available to date. Cool. Nice to meet you. On to the next one. I’m gonna go dance over here. I’m gonna give my books away to people. You’re not available to date — that’s a big red flag, and not in a dramatic way, just in a factual way. I had fun talking to her, and I wouldn’t take back the time we spent together, but at the same time, it’s like, you’re not available to date, so all right, see you later. Or sure, it’s fine to talk, but there’s really no point in getting someone’s phone number if they’re not available to date. And if you do get it, there’s definitely no need to follow up with enthusiastic messages the next morning, especially audio messages. That doesn’t make sense.
What’s good is I’m putting this into my calculations for the future. Every situation is different, but I’m keeping the lesson. And honestly, what if the woman I met had said yes, gone out with me, and then ended up not being that into me and wasting my time? That would’ve been worse. Much worse than what actually happened. So I’m on guard now, baby. Let’s not be wasting my time.
I was thinking tonight, I told my massage therapist all the stuff I did today. She texted me a few times tonight, and I filled her in. I’ll tell you too, because that’s what you’re here for, right now. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here. Well, you’re probably here because you love some Jerry Banfield in your life. This is what you’ve been missing. Go ahead and let it sink in. What you drinking, Jerry? Water. Go on, let it sink in how much more shit I can say.
I got I Was Famous on the Internet published today. It got approved, and they’re sending it out to audio platforms, which is super exciting. Getting that thing out on Spotify and wherever else people listen to audiobooks. Get that distributed, baby. Then I can send it to people who already have Spotify and they can just listen to a book right there. How cool is that? It’s only five hours, so I’ll be lucky to get a dollar per listener, but that’s fine. That’s not the point.
What else did I do today? I got up, picked the kids up, took them to school. After that, I went straight to a yoga class. After yoga, I came straight home, had hummus for lunch slash brunch, and got ready for a friend to come over.
My friend a friend came over at 11. She’s a massage therapist and does fantastic massages. She came over specifically to work on her book. I suggested she dictate the audio version first and then we’d transcribe it and get the print version ready that way. I asked if she’d be open to exchanging her massage services for my services here, and she said that’d be cool. So we did that. She got about fifty minutes of her book dictated, which was great considering it was the very first time she’d done anything quite like this. She’s recorded podcasts before, but recording an audiobook is different because you’re just talking to yourself. There’s no back-and-forth, no interviewer to save you.
On her audiobook, you can hear me laughing in the background pretty frequently, which I’m curious to see how the retailers roll with. I asked her if she wanted me to step out of the room, and she said no, she thought it actually made it funnier. Like people know when to laugh, it adds character, and it’s supposed to be a performance anyway. And she’s right — this is a performance.
What’s cool is realizing how valuable this service actually is. Having someone record an audiobook like this, helping them set it up properly, distributing it — that’s a high-level service. I could charge five thousand dollars just for that alone. That’s not even exaggerating. That’s a real value. I might be one of the only people doing this locally… or maybe I’m just ignorant and don’t know what the hell exists in this town. Fair enough. I don’t know of any other audiobook studios around here, but maybe there are. Either way, it was cool.
A friend’s got some wild stories too. I’ll make sure to link her book on jerrybanfield.com when it’s up. Her stories had me fucked up today — I was laughing hard at some of the shit she was saying, and she was telling detailed sexual experiences where I was just like, goddamn, this is crazy. That’s wild. Her book will be out at some point — it might take longer than mine, but it’ll get there. And all the books I help people publish will eventually be listed on jerrybanfield.com. If you want to hear audiobooks where I’m laughing in the background or see what other people are putting out, they’ll be there. So I helped a friend do that, and then she left.
Within ten minutes of her leaving, my massage therapist came over. And I’m like, damn — from the outside, somebody could look at this and think, shit, this guy had two hot girls come over today back to back. If anybody were watching, which nobody is, because nobody gives a fuck what you’re doing inside your house. But still, I’m like, that’s not bad. I had a couple of hot girls over today, both massage therapists, both friends, both people I’m very intimate with — and one hundred percent platonic, thankfully. My massage therapist is a reasonable person, and she also loves her boyfriend.
My massage therapist came over and we talked for about forty minutes. It was a really good conversation. She looked around my house, and she confirmed something important for me: all the shit I was thinking yesterday made sense from my point of view, but at the same time, it was totally not aligned with her point of view at all. And that’s great. That clarity is great. Then she left.
I immediately went to go pick the kids up. While I was there, I ran into one of the dads, one of the dads. He bought I Was Famous on the Internet. I gave him my very first copy because he was so enthusiastic about Author in St. Petersburg. I literally handed him the very first copy of I Was Famous on the Internet. He bought it because he wanted to support me on Amazon, and then a few days later he gave me the copy he’d bought when it arrived. So I took his book back, which was perfect.
I rolled into yoga this morning with four copies of I Was Famous on the Internet and gave them all away. Two went to students, two went to people working at my yoga studio — one at the desk and one to the yoga instructor for the class. Then I gave away three more books at my AA meeting. So that’s seven books given away in one day, which feels great. That’s twenty-eight dollars’ worth of books I gave away, and then one of the dads gave me one back, which means four dollars in royalty I’ll get plus four dollars I didn’t have to spend to replace that book. And thankfully all two hundred plus copies of my books have arrived now, so we’re ready. We’re going to get out to local bookstores, get these books into people’s hands, and see what kind of magic happens.
And what else are you going to get into later? Not that — I was hoping to get through one motherfucking day without going there. Gotcha. I like to mess with myself. No shit, Jerry. That’s why nobody else wants to mess with you. All right, all right — back to reality.
I dropped the kids off at home. My ex-wife was in a meeting. I played Uno No Mercy with them. My son wiped both of us out this morning — stole my hand and dropped a draw ten or some ridiculous draw six combo. My daughter followed up with a draw ten after we’d already been through some other nonsense. I had to draw like thirty cards and lost immediately. Then this afternoon, my daughter won again and knocked both my son and me out. They were chatty, laughing, having a great time, and I’m so grateful for that time with them today, driving them both ways, just being present.
Right after my AA meeting at 5:15, I went over to my mom’s house for her birthday party. My ex-wife and the kids absolutely crushed it. They did a fantastic, beautiful job. They got presents for my mom and for the dog. They made a cake for her and another cake for the dog, put candles on both of them, blew them out. One was a yellow cake with vanilla frosting, the other yellow cake with chocolate frosting, both circular, both perfect. I’m just standing there like, man, I am so grateful. What a fantastic ex-wife. What beautiful, thoughtful children.
Because let’s be real — your boy wasn’t going to do shit for his mother’s birthday. I don’t give a fuck about birthdays. I don’t care how long ago you were born. That doesn’t matter to me. I’m immortal. I’m God. Birthdays and cakes and all that shit are stupid to me. And yet my ex-wife and the kids showed up with love and effort and care, and they made it beautiful for my mom. That’s a bigger picture lesson right there. When you own your authentic self and live what feels right for you, you make space for other people to step in and fill the gaps. My massage therapist saying no makes space for someone else. My ex-wife and the kids showing up makes space for gratitude. And life keeps rearranging itself if you let it.
Then a friend was telling her story and talking about how she was celibate after a time of exploration, which she goes into in detail in her book. She talked about how she stopped having sex for a while and made space for her partner to come along, and she was describing the same kind of thing I’ve been saying — feeling someone in your field before they show up, being connected to them energetically before you even meet them. And I was like, damn, she’s on my wavelength. That’s exactly what I’m looking for.
And honestly, that’s what I want to do. I’d rather not have any sex at all until my dream girl comes along. A woman on the same level as my ex-wife. Because look at what my ex-wife has done through this divorce — she handled almost everything herself. The only things I had to do were sign papers and scan documents. She submitted everything, managed everything, and she’s giving up the right to any alimony. She doesn’t want child support. She’s giving me a cash settlement in exchange for keeping the house. I’ll take my name off the house, off her car, won’t touch her retirement accounts, and she’ll actually have more cash on hand than she’s giving me, even while taking on a huge amount of debt. That’s an amazing woman. A woman who’s thoughtful with my mom, supportive of the kids, and joyfully shows up to support my mother. That’s rare. That’s powerful.
That’s the kind of woman I want again. A woman who would be happy to step into that kind of dynamic. A woman who would gladly go over to my mom’s birthday with my ex-wife and my kids and just be part of the bigger picture. That’s what I want in my life. And at the same time, I caught myself thinking today, when the hell do I even have time for a woman like that right now? With how much I’m seeing my kids and everything else I’m doing, where would she even fit? That question is real.
After my mom’s birthday party wrapped up around six, I went to the tennis clinic at the tennis club. A guy from the tennis ladder texted me earlier since we’re matched on the ladder again, and I was genuinely excited to play him. I suggested we use the clinic as a warm-up and then go straight into our sets. Last week, playing a guy from the tennis ladder sent me into a spiral — he absolutely whooped my ass and I lost my mind. But after the tennis lesson with my son and playing a friend yesterday, I came into tonight in a completely different headspace.
A guy from the tennis ladder won again — first set 6-1, second set 6-2 — but it wasn’t the same at all. This time, he had to work for it. There were longer rallies, more deuces, some games with four or five deuces in a row. And the biggest difference was me. I wasn’t frustrated. I wasn’t spiraling. I stayed focused on one thing: just hit the balls in. That’s it. Hit them in. And when I missed, it was okay. It’s okay. Next shot. Next point. On to the next one. Learn from it. What happened there? Did I crowd the ball? Was the racket too close to my chest? Of course I hit that shot like that — look at my position. Study the game. Learn the game. Enjoy the game.
I had a great time tonight. I literally played the same guy, at the same place, probably on the same court. Last week I was losing my mind. This week I felt grounded, calm, present. Like, yeah — this is me. This is how I expect tennis to feel. Fun, learning, movement, effort. We ran our asses off out there. After the one-hour clinic, a guy from the tennis ladder’s shirt had twice as much sweat on it as it did when we started. And thank God for the weather tonight too. Mid-70s, cool air, perfect night to be outside playing tennis. Just a beautiful night, man.
I played with some of the guys in the clinic too. We were hitting, talking shit, laughing. At one point I hit a shot off a guy from the tennis ladder’s racket and it bounced up and nailed him in the neck. We were cracking up. He hit a couple of those ridiculous moon balls, high as hell, that dropped like an inch inside the line on my side. He did that twice. Just stupid shots. Fun shots. That kind of night where you’re competing but you’re also enjoying it. And then a guy from the tennis ladder bought my book. I was going to give him Author in St. Petersburg for free last week and he was like, no, I want to support you, so he bought it on Amazon. Which is great, because that’s four bucks in royalties for me and also one more physical copy I can give away to someone else. And here I was thinking he didn’t even enjoy playing with me or maybe didn’t like me. That’s a pattern I need to watch — I assume people are annoyed with me or barely tolerating me when half the time they’re just enjoying themselves. People are often a lot nicer than I think they are.
And then immediately my brain goes, oh no, don’t get into that soft shit. You’ll get taken advantage of. Like that guy at the meeting today — somebody shared something really raw and vulnerable from his past, the kind of thing that takes guts to say out loud in a room full of people. And I respected him for it, because that’s the whole point of those rooms: you can put down the hard stuff and not get destroyed for it. It got me thinking about how much shame people carry, and how freeing it is to set it down. For the record, I do not advocate doing anything illegal — obviously. And I would not engage in paying for sex again.
I’ve done that enough times to know it feels terrible. Not just because it’s illegal, but because it feels wrong in my body. Paying for sex always left me feeling nasty and low afterward. Beyond that, sex is sacred to me. It’s not something I want to transact like a service. Ideally, it’s something exchanged joyfully between two people who actually want to be there. And the truth is, desire doesn’t go away with age — people want closeness and connection their whole lives. Like that ninety-three-year-old I mentioned, still full of life. I find that more inspiring than anything.
And that’s where I’m conflicted. I love the idea of joyful sex, intimacy, connection. At the same time, I don’t love the idea of STDs, even though your boy thinks he’s immune. I’ve never had one. I did get tested before I met my ex-wife — all clear — and that shit went straight to the spam folder. Nothing like anxiously waiting on STD results while Gmail’s like, nah, this ain’t important. And back then I was sexually active. I wanted to know I hadn’t caught anything. But now I’m not even sure what I believe anymore…
I don’t even believe in germ theory anymore. Like, I’m not even sure what I believe about that. Good thing you’re not a doctor, right? Yeah, I’m definitely not a doctor. But at the same time, it feels like it’s up to me what I believe about germs or STDs or any of that. I know people say it doesn’t matter what you believe, reality will do what it does anyway. Fine. But I’m reading The Biology of Belief by Bruce Lipton right now, so make of that what you will. I want to be clear this is just where my own curiosity is leading me, not advice for anyone else. God damn, it’s been a long-ass dry spell, y’all. I don’t know how much longer I can go without fucking. I guess I’m about to find out.
Because look at the actual day. I did make it back in time to say goodnight to the kids. That mattered. Then I came back here and took the time to upload a new version of I Was Famous on the Internet to Amazon so future versions wouldn’t plug JerryBanfield.com and “schedule a call” eleven fucking times. Turns out that was annoying. Who would have guessed? I also cleaned up a bunch of typos I found in the audio version from editing it repeatedly after pulling it out of ChatGPT. You live and you learn.
So where, exactly, in this day was I supposed to be dating someone? Like, sure, hypothetically I could be fucking right now. But where does a woman actually fit into my life at the moment? I barely have the bandwidth to do stuff with my kids on the weekends. A couple weekends ago I took them to the mall for three hours and that was a whole production. Maybe I’ll do something like that again this weekend. But realistically, where does a girlfriend go? An hour or two at night? And then what, we go to bed? You think some hot twenty-nine-year-old who wants sex every day, who hasn’t had kids yet, who wants kids with me, is going to be satisfied with that? An hour or two squeezed in between parenting and exhaustion? Yeah. Don’t worry, Jerry. You’re not going to have to find out. You’re going to die single. You’re never going to fuck again.
That would be sad. I mean, let’s be honest, that would be sad. But also, in this body, it’s kind of fine. There are parallel universes. I’ll fuck in a different multiverse. I’m sure of it. You can count on that. If this version of me stays celibate the rest of its life, some other version of me is an absolute menace. Balance restored. You never know where this shit is going when you get my brain at ten-thirteen p.m. Woo, baby. Alright. Cut it off, Jerry. That’s enough of this bullshit tonight. Go take a shower. Do your thing. Go to bed. Yeah. Fuck it. Checkout time. We gotta go. Hey… you know who you didn’t talk about today? Nope. Not going there. Say it. No. I’m not saying it. Turning this shit off.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.