What she really wanted for her birthday

She looks fifteen when in truth, she’s pushing thirty. The eyes give her away. She has the eyes of a woman who’s been taking crap all her life. Someone else’s shit, always weighing on her shoulders. Her mother’s drinking, her father’s abuse, her beautiful older sister treating her like dirt. Her three last boyfriends always taking their anger out on her and her face.

Sometimes she looks at herself in the mirror and refuses to believe that the person staring back at her is the same person as the one looking in. She looks empty. Hollow.

Prostitution was an easy way out. If it wasn’t for horny, desperate fuckers willing to pay for sex, she would have probably been hooked on heavy drugs by now. Or dead. Hurray for the perverts.

It’s her birthday today. Twenty nine tiny black pebbles are neatly placed on the kitchen window sill. One for every miserable year of her life. On the other side of the window sill there are five grey pebbles. She gives a hint of a smile as she glances at them. After tonight there will be six of them. The final one is awaiting entry in the top drawer of her desk in the bedroom. It’s been sitting there for a couple of years now. Eagerly awaiting its’ turn.

Tonight, she whispers and leaves the apartment.

Her black leather backpack is safely resting over her right shoulder, as always. Its’ contents of the utter most importance today. If she’s robbed before she can finish, she’ll have to kill herself ahead of schedule.

But she makes it through the day without being robbed. She meets up with three regulars and earns her keep for one more week. Three hundred bucks. Not that she will need it.

She walks over to the retirement home where her father lives since her mother died two years ago. She says hi to a nurse that she recognizes and heads for the library, where she knows he will be today. They’re allowed private access once a year and he likes locking himself in there on the one day a year when he knows that she will visit.

She closes the door behind her and opens her backpack.

Happy birthday kiddo, the old pervert says. The gun fires before he can look at her.

That night, the sixth and last pebble is place on the window sill. Her treasury. She strokes the line gently with her fingertip and smiles for the second time that day. Then she opens the backpack again.

Cross Ankle Release

I wasn't exactly at the top of my game when I took off for Open Pole last night. I got off to a slow start and pretty much just felt like a blob trying to twirl gracefully around the pole.

But then my best friend E, who had just survived a tough stretch workout, joined me and things just took a positive turn. All of a sudden, I almost perfected a Knee Hold (that has never happened before) AND for the first time since I started taking pole dance - I finally nailed the Cross Ankle Release! Halleluja!

I've been pissed about not being able to do that for like six months now. And yesterday, something just popped and it worked. Again and again.

So I'm kind of proud today.  :)

And hopefully, the other tricks that I've been struggling with are going to follow.

Wohoo, I'm flying! Upside down!

Devil & Smokey

Yesterday we finally got our two new rat boys – Devil and Smokey. Their original owner apparently got sick of them and decided to put them in a bucket in the back of a garbage room to die. I could KILL people who treat animals like that. Seriously, they deserve to have their private parts put in a grinder.

A nice girl found the bucket with the scared, hungry rats in and took them to a rat shelter (which is where we found them). The extremely nice girl from the rat shelter took a train across the country to get the boys to us and I took yesterday afternoon off work to pick them up and take them home.

Considering what they’ve been through, they’re so brave. But they are terribly shy, careful and gentle. Our other rat (Panik) is quite the opposite. He’s energetic, playful and a little bit crazy. So we were worried that the three of them might not get along.

Well, they did. First thing they did when they met was crawl into this soft pink bag and cuddle. Except for a sneaky bite from Panik when Devil woke him up, they’ve been getting along fine. We’re not letting them share the big rat house yet though. They can bond and grow into each other’s differences when we have them out on the couch, and then, when they are all comfortable with each other, they can live together all the time. Hopefully, it’ll be soon because we hate having to leave Panik in the other cage. He looks so lonely, it’s heart breaking.

Devil and Smokey, although shy and timid, are quite the characters. Devil (the smallest one) is very curious and LOVES eating (I don’t know what kind of stuff they’ve been fed before, but they’ve been eating pretty much none stop since we got them). Smokey is a bit more laid back and does one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen in rats – he sleeps on his back. His big, white belly just flopping out in front, feet up in the air. It’s amazingly cute and funny.

I just hope that everything works out. That we’ll have three chubby, happy rats getting along just fine. And that Panik doesn’t get all territorial, since he was with us first. Keep your fingers crossed!

Smokey (on his back!) and Devil, relaxing on the couch

New comic strip

Material girl

It’s Friday. I take a walk at lunch. Strolling down the street, popping into the shops that appeal to me the most. And I purchase things. Two new dresses, incredibly cheap and simple with cute little baby doll shoulders. A jacket in the same style. And like the thousandth pair of tights. Earrings with stars on them.

I give my mom a call. It’s her day off and she’s doing the exact same thing as me. Finding joy in shopping. We share a laugh and energetically swap tips of where to go and what to look for.

I buy lunch and head back to the office with a smile on my face.

I might be a material girl, but I can’t help it. A new pair of shoes, a dress that goes with it… I like expressing who I am through clothes and I love changing from one style to the other. I’m a chameleon. Cause yeah, I love the gothic stuff with all black clothes, corsets and huge boots. But I also love cute summer dresses, tights (obviously) and wedge heel shoes. I like the fact that my closet is like a mood ring – I can choose an outfit depending on the mood I’m in that day.

After work today, I just want to go home and lay the new stuff out on the bed and admire it while sipping a glass of wine. I like Fridays. And the sun is out.

Tomorrow is my cousin’s birthday party. I wonder what I should wear?

The death of a rat

The death of a rat might not seem like much to those who have never kept them for pets. You might think that they are dirty, smelly and boring little things just gnawing their way through life. Well, you'd be wrong.

Rats are social, clean, beautiful, entertaining, playful and smart. 

We have loved our rat boys Skrik and Panik from the start. They have brought so much joy into our life simply by being in it.

And now, one of them is gone, forever.

Skrik became rapidly ill this weekend and passed away last night.

There are a lot of painful things in this world, but watching someone you love be in pain is one of those things that belong on the top shelf you wish you'll never have to reach for.

Skrik was a couple of days away from turning three months. He was just a baby and some disgusting disease infected his tiny little body and took him over. Took him away from us.

There is a hole in my heart today. Every heartbeat hurts so bad, I think the pounding might break my chest.

I know... We should think about the upsides. It's better that it was fast, that he didn't have to suffer for very long. And not to forget - we still have one beautiful amazing rat left.

But it's hard so see light from such a dark place.

I'll try to be greatful for the short time we had with him. I'll try to be thankful that he is at peace now. And I'll try to make his brother feel like everything is as normal.

But I will not try to stop the sorrow or the anger. Because here is the truth of it - his death was not fair. Death rarely is.

Sweet, wonderful, amazing Skrik. You will be missed.

My golden love

I am in love with my new pole. It’s a golden, 45 mm x-pole Sport. It’s light, easy on the eyes and really allows the grip I need to succeed with Butterfly, Caterpillar and other upside down tricks. The only thing that bothers me is that the air in our apartment makes my poles all slippery. It’s weird, I’ve never encountered this problem before, but I’m pretty sure it’s the temperature that’s causing it. So, until I figure out a way to do something about the air at home, I’m using Mighty Grip, Firm Grip, Black Diamond Liquid White Gold and/or leather gloves. It helps, but it’s still an annoying problem.

Right now I am fighting to nail a couple of tricks from level three (so that I’ll be fully prepared for level four later this year). Among these are KneeHold (painful basterd!), Butterfly (working on getting over feeling like I’m gonna die) and Gemini (once again with the pain).

Crucifix, Butterfly Handstand, a sort of Jarmila split and Full Invert.