PURE RANT

People need to control their fucking dogs. And if you can't control one, DON'T HAVE ONE. It's not fucking rocket science. Here's a good example of why your dog should be on a goddamn leash.

Chuck was attacked tonight by an absolutely vicious bull terrier who was for some reason off his fucking leash. We were coming around the corner of the building, and this thing came flying directly at Chuck, and he was not playing. He got his teeth into Chuck's ear and would not let go, and poor Chuck didn't even have time to defend himself, and then he couldn't fight back because of the arthritis in his back legs combined with panic and the pain, so he was laying there crying, but it was almost like he was screaming, and then of course I was crying and freaking the fuck out, screaming at these assholes to get their "FUCKING DOG OFF MY DOG, HE'S GOING TO RIP HIS FUCKING EAR OFF, YOU STUPID FUCKS!" (direct quote)

And by the way, just a quick aside here - these people are trash with a capital fucking T. The woman looks like a cracked out junkie - I'm guessing meth by the looks of her - and the guy looks like someone who'd marry his cousin.

This dog literally almost ripped Chuck's ear off, and 2 grown men (Josh and Trash Guy) couldn't pry its jaws apart to get it off of Chuck. When we finally did get the other dog off of him, Chuck just came over to me wagging and panting. He's so forgiving it's amazing. He's amazing. 

He looked ok when we were outside, but once we got into the light in the apartment and I was checking him over, we found a gaping, bleeding wound (which actually turned out to be 3 separate wounds) on the back of his ear. There was a piece of his skin hanging off. This dog nearly bit right through his fucking ear. Even as I type this I'm still very literally vibrating with anger.

This picture doesn't really show the true extent of the damage. When we moved his fur even further back we realized it was nearly bitten through.

First, we called the cops and filed a police report. Because fuck this shit, that dog is clearly dangerous and they cannot keep him under control. I'll be picking up the report in 5-7 business days (rolling my eyes right now). Animal Control will follow up with the dog's owners on Monday, but as long as the dog is licensed in this town and is up to date on all its shots, they won't do much of anything. So I will also be calling the company that owns my development to alert them to a dangerous dog that just moved in, letting them know it's a lawsuit waiting to happen. And we'll see if that yields any results. Then I heard the cops go over to the other peoples' apartment, and when the cop told the guy "you know she's probably looking at about a grand to fix her dog," do you know what Trash Guy said? He said "We could not have been nicer, and I said I was sorry!"  What the fuck? Does sorry fix my dog? Does sorry pay the vet bill? Does sorry not make me want to punch you in the face? The answer to all of those questions is no, so shove your sorry right up your ass.

So down to Garden State Emergency Vet in Tinton Falls we went, all of us still covered in dirt because this whole thing happened in an area that was mostly mud. Chuck's ear had to be shaved and he has something like 10 staples in it. The doctor didn't feel comfortable with (and I wouldn't have allowed them to anyway) putting him under general anesthetic to do full stitches, because he's 13 and honestly it's just not safe. So she did a lidocaine injection in his ear before she cut away the torn skin and did the staples, but he had to be awake for the whole thing. My poor baby. Such a trooper to go through all of this while he's also going through the other crap with his liver.

Man, he hates this damn cone. I have to go buy him one of the soft ones tomorrow.

Chuck is currently passed out from the painkiller they gave him, which is a good thing. This was way too much for him. And for me, for that matter. And for Josh, as it turns out, because as we speak he is in the emergency room because he got bit in 3 places trying to pry the dog's mouth off of Chuck's ear. He's also getting x-rays because he can't move the finger that got bit the hardest.

And here's Josh in the ER...

So here's the deal. I know damn well these people don't have money. They didn't even try to offer to pay for anything. So, since they already know we're serious about this (due to the whole cops visiting their apartment thing, and the fact that Josh screamed at them that they would be paying the bills for this whole thing), I will be leaving a copy of tonight's vet bill in their mailbox letting them know they have exactly 7 days to pay me, because in 7 days is Chuck's follow up appointment. And then they have 7 days from the follow up appointment to pay me back for that. If they pay for nothing, we go to small claims court. I'm not fucking around here. I had both my dog and my fiance in the hospital tonight because of these people. They need to learn a lesson, and if I have to be the one to teach it to them, so be it.

Rant over.

It reminds me that it's not so bad, It's not so bad.

In honor of Thanksgiving...the obligatory "things I'm thankful for" post.

So, here's what I'm thankful for, in no particular order. The things that make it "not so bad." And it's certainly not a complete list by any means. But I'm nearly in a food coma, so I'm lucky to be posting anything.

• My often hilarious and always amazing family.
• My equally hilarious and equally amazing friends.
• Josh.
• My awesome furry children, Chuck & Trixie.

• Music. It makes life bearable.
• Books. Actual, printed books. I just don't get the same feeling holding an e-reader.
• Sleep. I wish I got more of it.
• Cheap wine. Xanax. Marijuana. Judge if you like. I care not.
• 5 days off from work. Fuck yeah.
• That I was able to clean and save the leopard flats I thought were ruined. Yay!

• The awesome food my mom made today, and the amazing pie my sister made. But holy shit I'm still full. I may not eat again until Saturday. Which reminds me that I am also thankful for Gas-X.
• Cozy PJs.
• My couch.
• Clorox wipes. They're pretty much good for everything.
• DVR.
• Photographs. They are tangible memories.
• Lazy Sunday mornings.
• Anything that makes me laugh. If I didn't laugh I'd probably go quietly insane.
• My punching bag. 
• Earphones. I can block out anything when I'm commuting. That obnoxious screaming kid running up and down the aisle? No match for Social Distortion in my ears.
• Silly internet games that keep my racing mind occupied.
• Technology. I love that my mom texts now. 
• Family Guy. 
• The fact that I can end this post any time I like. And that time is now, because my brain is tired.

I love this song. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Get out of my dreams...

Screw you anxiety. Stop following me into my damn dreams.

I had a job interview yesterday. It was actually a second interview; the first one was Monday. Yeah it's been a looong week. Anyway, the night before, I wasn't really nervous because I'm so used to interviewing by now I could do it with my eyes closed. Evidently my subconscious felt differently.

By the way, I just found this on Facebook and thought it to be eerily appropriate for this post:

So in my dream I'm on the train and I'm wearing jeans & a hoodie, which is what I had worn that day. All of a sudden I realize it's Friday and I have a job interview and I'm not dressed for it and what the FUCK am I going to do since I'm already on the train?? I remember trying to figure out if I could possibly get off at the next stop, go back to Matawan, drive home, change, start over and still make it in time. Funny, but not once did it occur to me that I was supposed to be at WORK, because the interview was to take place during my lunch.
I woke up freaking the hell out and already on the edge of an anxiety attack. By the time my fuzzy brain actually processed the fact that I was still in bed and the interview hadn't yet happened, my heart was beating a mile a minute. Got out of bed, got a cold drink and had a cigarette, and generally walked it off by wandering the apartment. Luckily I was eventually able to fall back into a (thankfully) uneventful sleep.

But dammit, it was irritating.

Go ahead and rock out to this song. You know you want to.
Billy Ocean - Get Out of My Dreams

I don’t even know what I’m doing in an hour...

1. Have you ever licked the back of a CD to try to get it to work?
No...did people actually do this?
2. What’s the largest age difference between yourself and someone you’ve dated?
4 years. He was older and I was a little liar.
3. Ever been in a car wreck?
Several, thank you.
4. Were you popular in high school?
Nah. And I was ok with that.
5. Have you ever been on a blind date?
Once. Never again.

6. Are looks important?
To an extent, yes.
7. Do you have any friends that you’ve known for 10 years or more?
Yes I do.
8. By what age would you like to be married?
Well, since I'm getting married next year and I'm 36...I'm gonna say 36.
9. Does the number of people a person’s slept with affect your view of them?
Nope, you can be as slutty as you want. I don’t care.
10. Have you ever made a mistake?
No, never. I am perfect. Duh.
11. Are you a good tipper?
Yes. Even if I didn't want to be, I'd have to be. My sister was a waitress for years, and drilled it into my head.
12. What’s the most you have spent for a haircut?
$65
13. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?
Once I think. Maybe in middle school.
14. Have you ever peed in public?
Yes indeed. Not like in front of a bunch of people...but outside in public, yes.
15. What song do you want played at your funeral?
 Ave Maria. For whatever reason, this song has always affected me like no other piece of music.



16. Would you tell your parents if you were gay?
Of course. I'd tell everyone.
17. What would your last meal be before getting executed?
First off…what the hell did I do to deserve to be executed?
18. Beatles or Stones?
Beatles.

 
19. If you had to pick one person on earth to die, who would it be?
Oooooh I see, THIS is what I did get to executed.
20. Beer, wine or hard liquor?
Beer and rum.
21. Do you have any phobias?
Clowns are evil. This clown in particular. Thanks Poltergeist.

22. What are your plans for the future?
I don’t even know what I’m doing in an hour…

Breathe with me...

I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Which as far as I'm concerned is just a fancy way of saying that I worry excessively over everything. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I live in a constant state of anxiety (although sometimes it feels that way). But when something makes me "anxious," it fucks me up pretty good for a while. And that right there is (part of) why I NEED to get out of this fucking city and start having a better quality of life.

Below is a pic of my newest tattoo (keep in mind this pic was taken the day it was done, so it's still healing & shiny). There is always a reason behind every tattoo I get, and this one is no different.

(Tattoo by Rick Schreck @ House of 1000 Tattoos, Middlesex, NJ)


When I first told my artist what I wanted done, he was disappointed because he's used to me coming in and wanting big pieces. And there was of course some joking in the vein of "doesn't your subconscious kind of take care of that for you?" You would think so, wouldn't you? Unfortunately for me, it doesn't always. When I get stressed to the breaking point (which happens more often than you'd think), I find myself holding my breath and clenching my teeth, and I actually have to remind myself to BREATHE. So the logic is that seeing the word on my wrist every day will help me to remember to breathe, to slow down, to calm down.

I've had the tattoo for less than a month, so I'm still researching whether or not it works. However - and this is off the subject, but it's my blog so I don't care - the minute the needle touched my skin that day, I felt everything in my body relax, and all of the tension left my muscles in a big rush. I'm sure that sounds weird to anyone who doesn't have tattoos, and maybe to some who do.
But when I call it "tattoo therapy," I mean it.
I don't do the traditional therapy thing. I've tried, but I can't do it. I cannot sit there in a room where I'm not even allowed to have a cigarette and tell some stranger what I'm feeling and why. No thank you. I know it works for some people, and more power to you if it does. It's just not for me.

And then there's a whole other aspect of the anxiety thing...
An example: I have to drop my Chuckles off at the vet on Tuesday morning for an ultrasound (that's a whole other post - I can't get into it right now or I will cry). The very thought of leaving him there brings on an anxiety attack. That's when I feel that tightness in my chest, that tightness that feels like a bubble that's waiting to come up through my throat and out of my mouth in one long, endless scream. But I can't let it happen because I'm afraid that once I start screaming I won't be able to stop. Yes, I'm serious.
To that end, I use the following breathing exercise when I feel it beginning:

Breathe in deeply through your nose for a count of 4 (Mississippi, of course).
Hold for a count of 4.
Breathe out through your mouth for a count of 4.

It doesn't always work, especially not if I wait too long after I feel the attack coming on. But when I do it right at the beginning of an attack, I always feel a sense of wonder that it actually worked and I'm breathing normally again.

Do I want to constantly be riddled with anxiety? No, of course not. It sucks. It flat out sucks. So I have to try to find ways to control it. I'm all about better living through chemistry, so I make sure I stay on my Xanax. I have the breathing exercise. I have my tattoo therapy. I have my weed. I have this blog. I have my family and friends. I have my animals and my fiance. And if all of that fails, I either end up angry or crying. I prefer angry. For me, anger is easier to control than sadness. So here's an angry song that's been stuck in my head for days, probably because the main words to the song are "breathe with me."

Enjoy!

The Prodigy - "Breathe"

All the better to stalk me with...

Here's a list of the zillion other places you can find me on the web. Stars next to the ones I frequent the most.

www.modelmayhem.com/melanietheresa**(Model Mayhem)
www.facebook.com/melanietheresa**(Facebook)
gplus.to/melanietheresa4**(Google+)
www.myspace.com/melanietheresa (MySpace)
www.flickr.com/photos/melanietheresa/sets/**(Flickr)
www.twitter.com/melanietheresa**(Twitter)
www.modelrun.com/model/melanietheresa (Model Run)
www.linkedin.com/in/melaniekolbasowski**(LinkedIn)
www.youtube.com/punkrockgirl4**(YouTube)
www.bebo.com/sillyfairygirl (Bebo)
www.curvyandrockerpinups.com/melanietheresa (C & R Pinups)
www.famouslivingdeadbrigade.com/profile/MelanieTheresa (FLDB)
www.phanoto.com/m/melanietheresa (Phanoto)
www.foursquare.com/melanietheresa**(Foursquare)
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/melanietheresa/ (Stumbleupon)
melanietheresa.yelp.com (Yelp)
www.punkrockers.com/imsorad (PunkRockers.com)
www.getglue.com/melanietheresa**(GetGlue)
www.formspring.me/melanietheresa (Formspring)

A digest of my recent tweets

So I was just looking back through my Twitter page for a specific link I had posted, when I actually laughed out loud at some of the things I had recently tweeted myself. Not the tweets where I'm sharing something I find interesting, or music I'm listening to or books I'm reading. I mean the tweets I actually compose myself. Now I share with you, dear readers, some of my recently tweeted nonsense. They are in order from most recent to least recent, and are all from the month of September. Some of these also showed up as Facebook statuses, so if you're friends with me on there this may be repetitive for you. Enjoy!

P.S. Follow me on Twitter!
Follow @melanietheresa



Apparently, the words "glorified babysitter" should be inserted somewhere into my job description. - 9/21/11

Going to some family thing with Josh & his mother. We're not even there yet and I'm already exhausted and irritated. - 9/18/11

Seriously Facebook, stop fucking with things. Every time I get used to it you change shit around. Knock it off. - 9/18/11

Gotta love the names of the late-night softcore porn movies on HBO. "Bikini Frankenstein." Hilarious. - 9/17/11

Walking a mile in 3 inch heels, even though they're on my favorite, most comfortable pair of boots, was not a great idea. - 9/16/11

Hermes, Sephora, True Religion, countless shoe stores....the retail gods tease me when I'm walking to & from the PATH station. - 9/15/11

Extra innings are only fun when your team wins. - 9/15/11

Retweeted from @MauriceBlitz: I would like to someday be able to raise a question and watch it grow into an answer. - 9/14/11

What's got 2 thumbs and an interview at NY Mag on Friday? This girl! - 9/14/11

"Other people will try to make you miserable; don't help them by doing the job yourself." - Laurell K. Hamilton - 9/13/11

Trying to avoid my regularly scheduled Sunday night anxiety attack... - 9/12/11

I am the picture of laziness today. I'd take a picture of it, but I'm too lazy to do so. - 9/10/11

Someone told me today "You have a beautiful face,but why do you look so stressed out?" Um, maybe because I am. But thanks for the compliment. - 9/10/11

It's been 20 years since the first Lollapalooza? Holy shit I'm old. - 9/9/11

Pissed does not even begin to describe what I am right now. - 9/7/11

Left my good umbrella on the train & had to buy a piece of crap one from a street vendor. One good wind gust & this thing's toast. - 9/6/11

Come ON NyQuil, do your job already! - 9/3/11

No reason for my job to call me on my day off w/an "urgent" matter.I'm not on deadline, & it's not a life or death industry. Leave me alone. - 9/2/11

Retweeted from @DaddysPetSupply: It often happens that a man is more humanely related to a cat or dog than to any human being - 9/2/11