<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:00:45.534-07:00</updated><category term='shoes'/><category term='beer'/><category term='sex'/><category term='insomnia'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='festivals'/><category term='modelling'/><category term='stripping'/><category term='customers'/><category term='rent'/><category term='borderline personality disorder'/><category term='regulars'/><category term='school'/><category term='sewing'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='hair'/><category term='industrial'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>Trystan the Gypsy: Stripping, Dreams, and Travels</title><subtitle type='html'>Tuesday, January 20, 2009
.:travels of the fae:.
 
i am: 
an artist,
an exotic dancer,
a climber,
a costume designer,

dreaming of a thousand journeys. motorbikes, waterfalls, mountains. 

This is the platform for the chronicling of these journeys. It is not for the faint of heart! Beware, all ye who enter here. don't share my secrets.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-5086086697138275361</id><published>2011-04-12T01:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T01:40:31.702-06:00</updated><title type='text'>frustration</title><content type='html'>extremely frustrated at times in the differences in lifestyle between me and the people I spend the most time with. Rather than hanging out with people equally or more ambitious than me, I hang out with people who are happy being... whatever. I babble on about dreams and ideas and the future and no one joins in, suggests, agrees...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the things I want I'm not sure if anyone else gives a shit about. and that's hard. because maybe what I want and the choices I need to make are incompatible with anyone else, with anyone elses path, and I'm going to end up all alone again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-5086086697138275361?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5086086697138275361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/04/frustration.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5086086697138275361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5086086697138275361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/04/frustration.html' title='frustration'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-4224883307199470659</id><published>2011-03-02T10:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T10:01:54.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>broken</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;if I need you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;then I am weak&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;for in your absence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am broken absolutely&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-4224883307199470659?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4224883307199470659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/03/broken.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4224883307199470659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4224883307199470659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/03/broken.html' title='broken'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7123593758651557717</id><published>2011-02-22T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T01:33:33.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>Why am I allowing this to happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the equivalent of running away before the end, of hurting myself so that no one else can hurt me, of damaging myself so very badly that no one can do a worse job of it. If I'm going to feel horribly guilty for making her sad, I'd rather feel horribly guilty for giving her what she wants even with an ulterior motive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet I think my motivations are multi- I honestly want to see her happy.&amp;nbsp; I'm curious. I'm lonely and tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Minna. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laugh on the outside and die on the inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fall in love with pairs. With communities, with families, people I want to slide in beside. I so wish I could be a part, all I want is to be let in, and she'll never ever let me. I fell in love with her too and no one knows that. So it all hurt, it all hurts so much, I retreat to the dream world, I drown drown drown, maybe I can leave this life behind and find somewhere the the ozone doesn't dissolve, sliding away like a veil to reveal  the tender, pulsing heart of something you love so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm running, running, running.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7123593758651557717?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7123593758651557717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/02/why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7123593758651557717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7123593758651557717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/02/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-8219266484474536205</id><published>2011-02-19T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T15:26:31.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad planning is a bitch.</title><content type='html'>I'm extremely upset to be missing the discussion on "rites of passage" in the city tomorrow. and the tribal market tonight. and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To succeed as an artist and a creature of the earth I feel like I have to network, network, network, go to every event, get into every market, listen, speak, and communicate. The topic of "rites of passage" within the framework of our modern society is EXTREMELY important to me. I want desperately to learn more about it. But I have to be here, studying, sewing, NOT spending money. If only this, if only that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry that I have made mistakes in my choices, abrupt turns and twists and stumbling mishaps. I am focusing my energy where? I am trying to get a career in something I am passionate about so I can support my life as an artist, but I still want to be a full time artist? I am so confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could I have planned this whole weekend much better? Oh, yes, and how many mistakes am I still making over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRIORITIZE. FOCUS. PLAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I'm doing right now. was there a way I could have made this weekend work? I'm not sure. maybe. Time goes by, time takes everything from us, I want to put my life on hold, I don't want to miss anything. This year's themes are important to me. But so is emerging into the place I want to be. I don't want to be where they are, living paycheck to paycheck with no real direction. I want to stop paying rent by 30, whether I own a house or live on my own lot or live perpetually on the road. I want to succeed as an artist and live the life I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;focus focus focus. for today, forget all of this and sew. don't think about what you are missing. it is february after all. write and listen and dream and meet people later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-8219266484474536205?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8219266484474536205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/02/bad-planning-is-bitch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8219266484474536205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8219266484474536205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/02/bad-planning-is-bitch.html' title='Bad planning is a bitch.'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-1376456978663547312</id><published>2011-02-04T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T23:18:40.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A house is not a home, I hate that song..</title><content type='html'>I'm FUCKING antsy all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm uncomfortable, I can't get my shit straightened out, I am tired of being homeless and couch surfing and living on other people's fragile whims. Tip-toeing around roomates and kids and dishes and music and internet and exes and classmates' sensibilities and money and the value of my body. If I'm going to go sell my pretty ass I don't to feel guilty about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm crawling crawling CRAWLING out of my skin, I don't want to live my life on one side of an ampersand, I don't want to be a victim of my own laziness and indecision. How many broken bits and pieces do I have to leave scattered behind me until I figure out how to fix this mess of a girl this mess of a life, I shouldn't damn well drag someone else into it again. How many mistakes will I make again and again and again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just buckle down, make your little tiny life work where you are, miss your friends, miss your life, is a half a dream half away a waste of energy? Is it better to focus all of my energy on surviving my little pocket of misery until I can build a proper life here? Can I ever rise above the guilt and dagger eyes from her? It hurts hurts hurts I feel it all from her and I still almost want to take myself out of the picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the girls too, the girls with the other boys, both across the water. I want something impossible there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Focusing too much on too many things. Chop chop. sacrifice. it's all too much. I am scared, I am running, but there's a realist in there too. maybe I'm just crazy. still. always. maybe it will all be better tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe i'll get hit by a bus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-1376456978663547312?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1376456978663547312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/02/house-is-not-home-i-hate-that-song.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/1376456978663547312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/1376456978663547312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/02/house-is-not-home-i-hate-that-song.html' title='A house is not a home, I hate that song..'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-1124627867928566006</id><published>2011-01-28T00:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T00:54:17.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going treeplanting.. again.</title><content type='html'>I hated it by the end of the summer last time. But now I'm excited. fuckin trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A collection of quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turned out that one of her other toenails was cutting into it  somehow, and when she took off her boot to investigate, she discovered  her foot was pretty bloody.  I asked how she had dealt with it, and she  said, "I didn't have nail clippers, so I chewed off my toenail, and it  was fine after that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;July 21st&lt;/u&gt;:  I spent the day doing dump runs.  The Fox Creek dump  is fairly low-tech.  I showed up on the first run and asked how much it  was to dump the load, and the attendant (who was feeding peanuts to a  squirrel) asked how big my truck was.  I told him, and then asked if he  took credit cards.  He thought for a minute, looked around at the trees,  and said, "Does it look like I take credit cards?"  Good point.  I went  back to town to get cash from the ATM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"unless you are really gunning to experience dabbling in alcoholism, crying in front of strangers, and getting your first venereal disease, you should not go treeplanting" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"treeplanting will not allow you to think about your life, it will allow you to hide from the real world long enough to make you realize you would rather subject yourself to the mental and physical tortures of living in the bush rather than get a real job that requires you to shower, has a dress code, you are not allowed to swear, setting things on fire is frowned upon, you can't get drunk every day, and you are not allowed to smoke constantly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a masochist...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-1124627867928566006?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1124627867928566006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-going-treeplanting-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/1124627867928566006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/1124627867928566006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-going-treeplanting-again.html' title='I&apos;m going treeplanting.. again.'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-3637973591370892838</id><published>2011-01-17T02:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T02:31:46.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To all the ex lovers</title><content type='html'>to her:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand you're hurtin, but I'm hurtin too, what would you have me do? Tear out my own heart too? How could I have stopped feeling? If you could stop loving him would you? Am I supposed to stop loving him to make you happy? I know the two of you weren't happy together, but you stayed in your rut, in your habits, hurting eachother again and again. What happens if I go, if I cut all ties, leave this place I love, as I did once before? You and I will both be heartbroken and he will be alone? I gave you your 2nd chance, you have a million more, I make no claims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand if you don't want to be friends, but lately you're making it really hard to even exist, to be civil. I have chosen him over you, and now you are going to fight me every step of the way... How do I behave... how do I make my way through this bed of coals. If you make him choose between me and his daughter, ah, Pele, that's cruelty. Brutality. Deep sadness reigns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to him: I loved you so much, I did, but I grow and change and move on and you stayed the same, you stayed in the same place, and there wasn't any challennge or magic left anymore. I played at making a home but I ended up just sad. I wonder what I gave up and what I left behind and I think I'm happier now... but there's always a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to the first one: I made so many promises, so young, you wanted all of me, you wanted to mold me, you wanted to posess me forever. I still wonder how you're doing and where you are, I still want to be able to take you in my arms and make you feel better, but I'm so scared of you still. I know how she feels, because I know how you feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is not enough. Love is never enough. we are all fighting and dreaming and struggling to make it and be happy in this world. Take every moment as a gift, as something blessed that might be over at any moment. Bleed and take the pain you recieve as the price of the happiness you get. Wear your sadness with grace on weary shoulders and move on, cry and live your life, I won't apologize for who I am. I warned you all. You had your chances. I can't make my choices to make you happy. You can't control what other people choose. All you can do is breath and take another step, another day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgive me if you will. Or don't. Just live for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-3637973591370892838?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3637973591370892838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/01/to-all-ex-lovers.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3637973591370892838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3637973591370892838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2011/01/to-all-ex-lovers.html' title='To all the ex lovers'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-8251735360023007034</id><published>2010-12-02T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T21:33:10.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and other drugs</title><content type='html'>Chameleon, Mosaic, Kaleidascope tumble of colours, a girl in a monster in a fireball. Fireball whisky, cinnamon sting on the tongue and racing down your throat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My personality disorder rules my life, so I choose a life that gives it room. Some days I am all over the place, full of fire and liquor, spinning fire around my hand and hips. Other days you will not see me at all as I evaluate the patterns in the ceiling and give myself nine hundred reasons not to get out of bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travelling is in my blood, and too long in one place makes me itchy and lethargic. I live for adrenaline...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not a faery, but I need more than this life so I became, this creature representing more to you than just another girl..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality is but an interference pattern on the wavelength of the universe's vibrations... I would love to interfere with your vibrations and send you into the seventh dimension. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love boys, I love girls, but I will warn you I am probably the strangest girl you have ever met. If you are a true freak like me, well, let's talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't make friends easily, I will either love you intensely or be indifferent to you. Sorry, I don't fake it. In or out of bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-8251735360023007034?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8251735360023007034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/12/love-and-other-drugs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8251735360023007034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8251735360023007034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/12/love-and-other-drugs.html' title='Love and other drugs'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-3584786576716824304</id><published>2010-07-14T03:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T03:06:27.365-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you ever really feel like you made it?</title><content type='html'>Is there ever a day when you wake up and feel successful? When you say, "Damn, I did good!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-3584786576716824304?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3584786576716824304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/07/do-you-ever-really-feel-like-you-made.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3584786576716824304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3584786576716824304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/07/do-you-ever-really-feel-like-you-made.html' title='Do you ever really feel like you made it?'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-1654642960314073346</id><published>2010-04-02T15:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T15:47:56.109-06:00</updated><title type='text'>sadness is a slippery fish</title><content type='html'>2 weeks ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday:&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Tired. My fifth day in a row. Working this much is draining. Bored and tired, I sit by the door. A group of young oil boys comes in, sits in front VIP, one little pregnant girl with them, laid back and comfortable, even here. One of the floor dudes comes over and tips me off that they have ordered a bottle of Grey Goose vodka.. after a few minutes to let them get settled, my hustle buddy and I go make friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several shots later, I'm pulling one after another back for a dance or 4. Hannah and I do a double. I dance for the pregnant chick- she wants to hang out sometime. I leave most of the walls up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vodka lubricates my tongue, and the club is busy. I pound, pound, pound, pulling guy after guy to the back. I head home exhausted and happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:&lt;br /&gt;We are supposed to go to a potluck at his friend's place. I feel nauseous. People can't meet the real me, rough and dirty and awkward. I panic and cry. We don't go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night:&lt;br /&gt;I drag my ass into work. After scheduling drama last week, I didn't work at all. I lay on my couch. I went to the gym a couple times. I drank a lot. I made the effort, showed up, enjoyed myself. I did my show, played on stage, smiled. Talked to a few people on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In truth, I just don't care. I can't bring myself to move, to get off the floor, to dream or push or even push the buttons. I am only upset about the fact I am so apathetic. There is nothing to be sad about, I just can't move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You really only have two choices," he says. "You can deal with it yourself, or we can call the asylum in the morning and they can take care of everything." His words are joking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what he really says, is, "I have tried to fix you, and now I am going to give up. You aren't fixed and that's your own fault for not trying hard enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laugh. I am pragmatic about things, but I am tired. The reality is I cannot fix myself, I need professional help, but I am too tired to find it. So I laugh, the short, dry, humourless laugh of the desperate. I ask for help to find a middle ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, he grumbles about something, and then lets it go. "There. See how I did that? I dealt with it. You should just deal with it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a moment, I panic. I run circles around with a knife bleeding and screaming. I lock down the tears, the panic, the expression. I'm just too tired. Instead, I let everything drain away, dissociating further than I have in a long while, staring at the ceiling unable to move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A line from a song I can't remember repeats itself in my head, and I contemplate the perfect suicide. The one where no one I know has to find my body, clean the blood out of the bathtub, pay for the funeral. I wonder what a lethal dose of alcohol and ketamine is. The song repeats, repeats, I try to remember to take a few shallow breaths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually sleep comes. I have lots of reasons not to want to die. I'm just so, so tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-1654642960314073346?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/1654642960314073346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/04/sadness-is-slippery-fish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/1654642960314073346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/1654642960314073346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/04/sadness-is-slippery-fish.html' title='sadness is a slippery fish'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-220069009143115020</id><published>2010-03-13T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T01:15:09.163-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>Nothing tonight</title><content type='html'>Tonight... was a write off. I showed up at 8, dressed in my shiny bra and a garter belt, extensions and makeup perfectly done. At 8 pm there were about 5 cars in the parking lot and about as many people inside the club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the night wore on, I talked to everyone in the club... until about 10. Then slowly I got more discouraged, talked to a few different people, managed to pick the people who were interesting but didn't have any money. More and more girls showed up... it's only my 2nd night back, but I knew less than half of the dancers. The only people making money were the top earners/features.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left with $25 (a table tip) and no dances sold at 12:30. On tuesday I had only sold 2 dances as of 1:30 and I stayed and still made $200. But tonight there were too many girls and I was already getting tired and frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a quitter. But at least I showed the fuck up. Oh well. Another day tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start stage shows on Monday! ai. Exciting but scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-220069009143115020?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/220069009143115020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/03/nothing-tonight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/220069009143115020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/220069009143115020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/03/nothing-tonight.html' title='Nothing tonight'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7265467682690061778</id><published>2010-03-11T03:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T03:12:06.459-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='customers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>Back to work</title><content type='html'>Soooo I'm back! I returned to work last night, and it's hard. Their is a tragic reality that I still feel a sense of heirarchy, a sense of whether or not I'm as good as the next person. (In all aspects of life.) Words stumble and tumble abruptly from my lips when I try to have conversations with people. I have no sexy answer. I don't know what to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be yourself," you say.&lt;br /&gt;Myself is sharp and abrasive, sarcastic or oblivious, self-effacing and sometimes shy. I don't know how to respond to peoples' questions or what to say to rude comments or empty silences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I showed up. And I tried. And I didn't sit too long by myself, only for a little while. I didn't go to work tonight because IT'S MY BIRTHDAY and I bought myself shoes on a really great sale :) They are amazing and adorable... &amp;lt;3 I also bought an iPhone and case and junk... damn those cases are expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back tomorrow. I want to be good at this. I want to show up and dance. I want to make a lot of money. I want to manage it well, get out of debt, blah blah blah. Pay taxes?? If I have to I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to write well but then I got distracted by the interwebs. dammit. More stories soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7265467682690061778?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7265467682690061778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/03/back-to-work.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7265467682690061778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7265467682690061778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2010/03/back-to-work.html' title='Back to work'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-6090056190564279814</id><published>2009-11-08T02:18:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T02:23:09.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Road Again...</title><content type='html'>I apologize for not writing much... I haven't been doing much stripping, but lots of working the day job and planning for my current trip... haha I'm in Bali motherfuckers! whooo! six months off! Actually i'm trying to get my clothing line started... heh. not really time off then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soooo currently I am in Sanur, Bali. I landed here a couple days ago after an epic Halloween weekend in vancouver with Rob, which was excellent. My flight was very long... vancouver to beijing, 11 hours, 3.5 hour layover in beijing (They had infrared cameras scanning for fevers... luckily my "swine flu" I picked up in vancouver never seemed to hit the high fever stage, just the sore throat. I swear everyone I was staying with/met in vancouver had it.), 5 hours beijing to bangkok, 6 hour layover, 4 hours (after a 2 hour delay) bangkok to bali. Whoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm then I sat in a cafe for awhile trying to get used to the 30 degree heat then wandered off to Sanur and slept for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I picked this town, i guess because it has a beach and the book said it was quiet. Its full of retired dutch people and i'm totally bored. But I really did need a couple days to adjust and get over my illness and sleep. I am moving to Ubud, capital of yoga, crafts, and expats (hopefully younger ones!) tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was drinking with said expats at a cafe on the beach yesterday and one of the older guys said "oh Cambodia... I spent 7 years in jail there.. I had a girlfriend. she was 9." I giggled nervously and hoped he was kidding... right? right?? hahaha. the cafe was run by this really nice younger dutch couple, it had only been open a couple of months. we watched the windsurfers for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm so yes! That is about it for now! Here is my itinerary of dates for reference purposes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nov 6- Jan 5 Bali, Indonesia&lt;br /&gt;Jan 5-10 Bangkok, Thailand&lt;br /&gt;Jan 10- March 4 Tonsai/Railay Beach, Krabi, Thailand&lt;br /&gt;March 5 - March 11 Siem Reap, Cambodia&lt;br /&gt;March 11-March 18 Pnomh Penh, Cambodia&lt;br /&gt;March 19- March 23 Chiang Mai, Thailand&lt;br /&gt;March 24- April 13 Pai, Thailand&lt;br /&gt;April 14 Bangkok/fly home&lt;br /&gt;(all dates subject to change! haha clearly.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-6090056190564279814?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6090056190564279814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/11/on-road-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6090056190564279814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6090056190564279814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/11/on-road-again.html' title='On the Road Again...'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-4994252338085623259</id><published>2009-08-25T15:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T15:49:55.396-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sewing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festivals'/><title type='text'>Burning (wo)Man</title><content type='html'>I'm preparing for the biggest festival of them all.. and by preparing, I mean being lazy. I have been working for many, many days straight and today is my first real day off. Sunday was spent, well, sleeping and fucking and cleaning and preparing, and today I haven't done a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panic is setting in! *pokes self to go do SOMETHING out of the piles of sewing, laundry, repairs, and packing I still have to do!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-4994252338085623259?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4994252338085623259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/08/burning-woman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4994252338085623259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4994252338085623259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/08/burning-woman.html' title='Burning (wo)Man'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-780839032572342077</id><published>2009-08-01T11:33:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T02:10:02.690-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='customers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sewing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insomnia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festivals'/><title type='text'>Sorry for not posting in forever!</title><content type='html'>I have been super busy with festivals, where I drive out into the woods and camp and dance the night away. For these escapades, I built a 16' steel geodesic dome as a shade structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to travel, and my feet (and wheels) have been taking me all around lately. I ran off to another city to hang out with some amazing burner people and then voyaged off to a farm to dance around in the woods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a hard time with this one party, I felt like the energy there was very damaging. It sucked at my edges, interfered with my buzz, distracted me from having a good time. I felt like I was jealous of everyone else having a good time, and not really fully involved in my own experience. I was over-exposed to the bad energy and therefore afraid to let any energy, even the good stuff, in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've only been to work twice since then. I get hot and tired and fall asleep and wake up groggy and unhappy. Perhaps I should air-condition my house, or spend less time watching tv in the hot living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I should just stop being lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friday night was pretty fun. My manager is encouraging me more and more to do stage, and I think I will try to do it right after I get back. Of course, this necessitates a photo shoot the day after I get back from a week-long vacation without showering, but I'm sure I can pull it off :) One of my few friends at work was off sick with a kidney stone last week, and she has 2 kids, so I was feeling pretty bad for her. Around 1;30 I had just gotten out of a dance and was chilling in the back room with the money girls, and my friend was about to cash out.&lt;br /&gt;Then this 18-year old kid wanders in. He looks like he lost his pub crawl, just out of high school with all the pride in the world and none of the lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, howsit going," I say conversationally. I'm bored of this job, though its been easy tonight.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm looking for a private dance," he stammers a little, obviously fairly drunk.&lt;br /&gt;"Ooh me, ooh me!" I giggle, sticking my hand up in the air. He probably has $30 or maybe even $60, but he's an easy mark.. I didn't even have to walk the floor!&lt;br /&gt;"So you wanna go for half an hour, right?" I ask my standard question. Don't ever give the customer OPTIONS.&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," he says, "how much?"&lt;br /&gt;"$200 including tip." This is the point that I expect him to balk.&lt;br /&gt;Instead, he hands me the contents of his wallet.&lt;br /&gt;"Aww honey you need another $60. Here's the ATM."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend butts in at this point. She is already in her sweats but she still looks hot.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want both of us?" she is medium skinned, soft-bodied, with epic tits and piles of honey brown curls. She looks almost hawaiin.&lt;br /&gt;For a moment, red-hot anger flares up. I could have got my quota from this guy and gone home, and now she's getting half. It fades as quickly as it comes- I know she needs this, and she's been trying to help me get in on doubles all night, I've just been busy :)&lt;br /&gt;"It'll be twice as much," I tell the kid.&lt;br /&gt;"Ok.."&lt;br /&gt;By this point, my friend and I are laughing at eachother behind his back. He's trying to figure out the ATM, so I tell him to give me his credit card and I'll put it in the right way up for him (heehee.) He is still coherant, but he says its his first time at a strip club and he wants it to be really good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, long story short, we have our fun. My friend and I are all over eachother, not really dancing, taking swigs of her "fiji" water (read: vodka) in the back room. He's enjoying it. We tie him up with his belt and pull his hair, laughing at his innocence yet pleasing him at the same time. It's nice to relax with a girlfriend for once :) I even kick off my shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't last the whole half hour, and so we ask him if he wants more :) Sure, he says. We put on half our clothes and go back out to the machine.&lt;br /&gt;"I want another girl, too.."&lt;br /&gt;"That'll be another $400 please Alex... *ding ding ding*"&lt;br /&gt;More fun, its the end of the night, and our third girl gives him a massage, rolling her eyes and laughing behind his head. My friend and I enjoy ourselves, loving the easy money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, even though I had a good night, I felt quite sick last night and didn't go in. I think it was mostly the heat, and the fact I have a hard time sleeping during the day, and I'd stayed up until about 4;30. Silly girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just spent the cooler hours of the night working on this GORGEOUS jacket I'm making. Unfortunately, its fur, and I was stupidly using a zipper foot to sew it (i.e. the fur got caught in the foot a lot) and I managed to punch the needle through my fingertip. I got all dizzy and thought I was going to pass out for an hour, but my cracked nail is still holding the cut together, so I think it'll heal up pretty quick. It HURT like a motherfucker though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright I've got to do some more trim on said jacket, put in one more shift at the day job at 1 pm tomorrow, and then i'm off to the woods! *mwah* Pictures of the jacket and the dome to come when I get back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Trystan Cinnamon Pteradactyl~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-780839032572342077?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/780839032572342077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-for-not-posting-in-forever.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/780839032572342077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/780839032572342077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-for-not-posting-in-forever.html' title='Sorry for not posting in forever!'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-72258636770641751</id><published>2009-07-09T10:38:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T11:22:38.785-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>On Sexuality</title><content type='html'>When I was 15, I was determined to die. Just short of actively suicidal, I was sure that one day, very soon, the bus would crash, the booze would be too much, that car wouldn't stop as I sauntered across the street. So, sex was something I had to do before I died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 16, sex was the inevitable end to a drunken night. Sometimes desired, sometimes not, a few times it was held-down, struggling, not screaming because my friends were in the next room. There was comfort in these overgrown adolescents, the punks who wanted this punk teenage girl, with her shaved head and disasterous fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 17, sex was a game of conquests. I could fuck whoever I wanted to. I never had to say no or settle, because I was determined to fuck the prettiest boy in the room. I wanted to take my control back, to conquer, to attain. My weekends were full of drugs and bright colours, my mornings were twitching comedowns in someone else's house, afraid to go home all sketchy-like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost a year or so of my life, after that. It started innocently enough, another conquest of an older boy. Slowly he stole my soul, my friends, and my will. He stole my sexuality, turning my fetishes against me, turning play-fighting into real hitting. Sex was mandatory, and I despaired and revelled in it at the same time. White powder blurs my memory of those days, when we were always searching for a better high, a crazier kink, another revelation. My squeaked-out words of protest went unheeded, for I wasn't able to survive on my own, or so I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, I got out. Thats a long story, not entirely sad, but not the one I'm telling here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 19. Leaving for university. Thinking myself soooo wise, so worldly, sooo strong. I didn't know, I think, how weak I was still. I slept with anyone that remotely piqued my interest, discarding them a couple weeks later, or being discarded. I wanted boys, girls, couples, anyone. I wanted to be in control. I wanted to be worth something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short, abortive relationship. After we broke up he raped me in my bed, drunk and there under the pretense of "talking." "You'll like it", he said. "You're so beautiful, I have to do this to you." He took advantage of the leash I had handed him, the buttons I gave him access to, even after I tried to take the other end of the leash back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The common thread of all these years: Sexuality based around submission. Whether it was being dragged out of me or thrown at someone's feet, I screamed, "take me." I drowned in losing myself, in the deep pools of dissociation, in the abjectness of it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even found a healthy, happy output for this sexuality. When I was 20, I met my lover. We learn and grow together, experiment, teach, learn, take things too far, cry, and do it all again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I find myself coming to a new phase in my sexuality. Does it have to do with stripping? Maybe I respect myself more because I have to, I need to maintain my boundaries in the club. Are these walls a remnant of my work persona, staying up too long?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My energies are all off. I feel desire, I feel attraction, but I don't feel passion or lust. My lover and I have slipped into the grind of life; sex happens in quick bursts, or on sundays. (the few sundays we are here.) I've fallen in lust with a dozen women in the past year, but I'm afraid to approach them now, when in the past I would have seduced, cajoled, charmed, and kissed my way into their beds. Now that I look at myself with some measure of respect, rather than careless abandon, it's harder to stand next to them and feel worthy. The beautiful tall damaged redhead. The candy-coloured cutie. The beautiful costumed women I meet at festivals across the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I think I've found myself, figured out where I fit in, I feel the growing pains of my skin stretching and shifting again. Pulling over my bones, scraping, too thin here, too thick there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My lover worries. I seem to be sick all the time. Is it mould in the walls? Anxiety? or simply a missalignment of the chakras? Do I have time to investigate these changes among my crazy life? To meditate on sadness and detachment? Can I convince myself that I am worthy again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone else in the industry experienced this detachment of sexuality? I don't know if it is a common problem in general, or if my problem is just the transition from sub to not-sub. An equal (that still loves the whip.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I'm just always crazy, never in balance. Ah, well, where would I be without a quest to improve myself? Bored, I suppose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-72258636770641751?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/72258636770641751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/07/on-sexuality.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/72258636770641751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/72258636770641751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/07/on-sexuality.html' title='On Sexuality'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-691822699070434001</id><published>2009-06-23T06:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T08:03:07.580-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insomnia'/><title type='text'>A Strange Night</title><content type='html'>As I was leaving my day job today, I was having a conversation about changes. One of my friends said he has recently done a "purge"; he quit smoking weed, quit eating red meat, and did a couple days of fasting and sweatlodging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This got me thinking about the things that I would like to change in my life. I thought about how I am addicted to my lifestyle, to drinking, to smoking, to having and spending money. I would like to be able to experience life without getting addicted to it, I would like to be able to have a drink or two without getting trashed. I would like to buy something amazing that is perfect for me, not buy six or seven dresses on the way to finding a decent one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to spend more time being creative, writing, drawing, sewing, painting, singing, and dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to save money to travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I stayed up. I have been all over the place, drifting in and out of time. Getting lost in another universe, reading tales of a desert and planning elaborate structures. As the sky started to lighten outside my office window, I began to travel so deep into other people`s thoughts and creations that I actually came back around to my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up. I picked up my darling grey cat from my lap, where she had been cutting off my circulation for several hours now, and I went outside. Sliding up the creaking stairs, trying not to wake my lover, smoking half a peach cigarillo in the cold morning air. Even at 5 am the wind is gusting around the house. I put up my tent, struggling by myself, checking for missing parts and strange smells before our camping trip this weekend. It takes me all of five minutes. Still wiggly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I decide to go for a run. The thought has been sneaking around my head lately, passed back and forth between laziness and a desire for something better. Running has never been my thing, it takes too much mental fortitude, but the few times I have succeeded, its almost a religious experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find fresh batteries, pull shoes out of closet, pull on sweater, leave note in case lover wakes up.. 5:23 I sneak out the front door. The world has a certain stillness, a quiet that I haven`t heard in a long time. There`s no ringing in my ears from the club speakers, which is usually the case when I see the sunrise. The sound of engines slowly starts to increase as the morning shift starts to travel off to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet pound against the pavement, in time with the music in my ears. My breath comes surprisingly easily, in-two-out-four, in time with my feet. It is my muscles that protest, not used to this endurance, strong and powerful in short bursts but stiffening up quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run down into the grass, into the gravel, between the trees. The early light filters through. Just after the solstice, the sun is already half-risen at 5;30. The grey light is fading into yellow and green, filtered through the trees. The creek is still, choked with green water plants, nibbled on by a mother duck and nine fuzzy, floating puffball babies. Poplar fluff flies up my nose, rising under my pounding feet in little clouds of dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running up and down gravel hills, pausing at the top of the ravine, I decide to go back through it rather than take the shortcut back along the paved streets. Push yourself. Go ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few minutes are hard. I walk more and more on the uphill, lenghtening my strides on the downhill. Half an hour is a long time when you haven`t gone running in god knows how long. I walk up the last hill, peeling off my sweater as the air starts to heat up. The path ends on a grassy shoulder, peeling off the edge of the trees and blending into pavement and houses. I sprint the last 100 metres, coming out of the shadows of aspens and bursting into the sunlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop. Walk to the nice grass. Stretch my arms high above my head, feel my spine crackling, my quads and hip flexors complaining. Sun salutations, greeting the new day with the itch of grass against my palms and the rising sun blinding my opened eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I`m not a stranger to this feeling, but its so elusive. I want to remember to go looking for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-691822699070434001?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/691822699070434001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/strange-night.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/691822699070434001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/691822699070434001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/strange-night.html' title='A Strange Night'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7227734641227173166</id><published>2009-06-14T04:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T04:52:02.873-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beer'/><title type='text'>Being Different</title><content type='html'>So tonight was decent at the club. There were a TON of bachelor parties there, and lots of them were buying in 1s and 2s. I only did one set of 4 which is odd for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hard thing is that 2 other blonde girls who have been doing this like 2 weeks, max, both DOUBLED my income. more than, including tips, I'm sure. This leads me back on the track of getting down on myself... "I'm too fat, I'm too drunk, I'm not drunk enough, my hair's not long enough,  my hairs not BLONDE enough!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I got a few people tonight that REALLY loved the red hair. But most of the blondes can have anyone. Proportionatly, there are way more people that love blonde hair than red hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to go into a whole in-depth psychology thing but my brain-death just hit for the night and I'm starting to type gibberish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7227734641227173166?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7227734641227173166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/being-different.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7227734641227173166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7227734641227173166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/being-different.html' title='Being Different'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-2870109941376727636</id><published>2009-06-12T03:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T03:24:19.588-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight was a write off</title><content type='html'>..but at least I dragged myself in to work. the club was dead. I made $60. whoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Zealand is looking further and further away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-2870109941376727636?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2870109941376727636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/tonight-was-write-off.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2870109941376727636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2870109941376727636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/tonight-was-write-off.html' title='Tonight was a write off'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7082525595934331989</id><published>2009-06-07T09:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T09:40:56.009-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><title type='text'>Today, I am dirty.. want to be pretty..</title><content type='html'>I'm furious with myself today. I could have been working the last 2 nights, and because I'd planned not to, I didn't. Even though events changed and I would have been fine to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goddammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7082525595934331989?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7082525595934331989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/today-i-am-dirty-want-to-be-pretty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7082525595934331989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7082525595934331989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/today-i-am-dirty-want-to-be-pretty.html' title='Today, I am dirty.. want to be pretty..'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-3827068865337805040</id><published>2009-06-05T12:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T15:18:44.434-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Manifest Destiny</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, I suck at blogging. There has been a topic I have been wanting to write about since Montreal, and somehow I just haven't found the time to sit down and write it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm one of those girls with ridiculously strong mood swings. Call it PMS, borderline personality disorder, or just plain old girlish hysterics, I have been known to be either insanely happy or dysfunctionally depressed. However, also being a fairly intelligent girl, I'm constantly on a search for the solution to these problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this crazy world, we have to create our own happiness. In the quest for happiness we often look to others, to money, to our significant others, waiting for a windfall to hit us on the head and shake us out of our ruts and habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On saturday in Montreal, I went out with a big group of peopple to shop and wander around the city. It was pouring rain, so we stopped and got ponchos at a local surplus store. After that, we walked a very long way, without stopping. I wanted to wander, to look in random stores, to try on absurdly expensive dresses, and make a mess. Our group just plowed on ahead, until we stopped for two hours to go in an audio store and eat.. smoked meat. NEITHER OF WHICH I'M REMOTELY INTERESTED IN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice to say, I was very unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I took a deep breath, and wandered off. Lit a cigarette and found a latte. Walked slowly past store windows. Dipped in and out of thrift stores. Enjoyed who I am, my place in a strange city, being with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to myself, and what I needed to do. I had a nap in the hotel. I didn't watch tv or surf the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out that night and danced, and met some amazing, incredible people. The pounding, twitching noise carried my feet for hours on end. Running around and yelling and drinking vodka and Bomba (the local version of redbull..).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness is your decision.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-3827068865337805040?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3827068865337805040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/manifest-destiny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3827068865337805040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3827068865337805040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/06/manifest-destiny.html' title='Manifest Destiny'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-3484020263212937950</id><published>2009-05-16T10:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T10:45:28.184-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Montreal</title><content type='html'>So I have been here in Montreal for 2 days now.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My flight here, I had a small 21-month-old child pulling my dreads and grabbing my stuff the entire time. Then, on my $60 cab ride, the cab driver hit on me the entire time. When I finally arrived at the venue, I was mostly too moody and tired to have a lot of fun. But I danced a little towards the end of the night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stumbling home, laughing, 4 of us. Silence and loneliness in bed, missing my lover. A blip of catharsis, methadone to my heroin. Waking up from vivid dreams, twitching. We got up at 8:30 to go get free breakfast, and crawled back into bed. I am sleeping on a pull-out couch in a room with a couple of the girls. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got out of the room by about 2, wandered around hunting for poutine. We went to a bunch of army surplus stores too. I saw a friend of ours wearing an awesome skirt, and got the name of the store she got it from, and went to buy the exact same one. But I got a fantastic sweater, too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night at the party was pretty frickin' awesome. I danced my pants off to Soman, and got some thrashing in to God Module and Grendel and Accessory. Wandered off for a while to get pizza with Scott and Chris. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, we are off to go shopping. :D yay :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-3484020263212937950?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3484020263212937950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/05/montreal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3484020263212937950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3484020263212937950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/05/montreal.html' title='Montreal'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-477076195297988255</id><published>2009-05-10T10:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T10:53:04.290-06:00</updated><title type='text'>People, Contradictions, and Cars</title><content type='html'>So as I said, I went to work on wednesday. It was pretty good, did just over my minimum number of dances, and had some fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the first customers I sat down with had a company logo dress shirt on, was here making synthetic diamonds from LA, and talked about how much money he had. He was relatively polite and charming, but only bought one dance, and during that dance tried to grab my boob under the pretense of looking at my nipple ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the last customers I sat down with had a hockey jersey on, bling in his ears, and a baseball cap. He brushed me off earlier in the night with a "maybe later", but at the very end of the night I got him to go for a VIP with me. (4 dances, in my club.) He then offered to tip me $300 for the priviledge of playing with my boobs. He did this BEFORE he tried to grab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took it. I know, rule bending, but its within the line I've drawn for myself. He offered more for more and I turned it down. But it just goes to show that appearances can be decieving. I'm obviously still not quite as good as I think I am at picking types of people out of a crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways. I was in a car crash on thursday night on the way home from the Star Trek movie... My lover was driving and turned left on a green, didn't see the car coming straight through the intersection. The other driving slammed into the passenger side wheel well. I pretty much had a screaming panic attack, but I'm mostly ok. Some sore muscles. But the car is pretty much totalled, so I'm glad I bought my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm falling apart again, but no one will save me. I am left floundering, alone, like when you throw your kid in the lake and say, "learn to swim, or drown." They say, "Wake up. Just feel better. Just get a grip on yourself. Just tell yourself to stop feeling that way." It doesn't work like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Everything seems flat, now, dead. Silence reigns. I'm not sure what to do with myself, quiet, hurting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-477076195297988255?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/477076195297988255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/05/people-contradictions-and-cars.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/477076195297988255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/477076195297988255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/05/people-contradictions-and-cars.html' title='People, Contradictions, and Cars'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-2688018971064708804</id><published>2009-05-06T13:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T14:00:50.915-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>Short Update</title><content type='html'>Wow, it's been 2 weeks since I've written. I've had a lot going on, but no clear thoughts to write about. I only have five minutes right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week was really stressful for me. I had a fantastic weekend at work, including an all-time high money wise. I got to meet some really fun people and generally just mess around. And then, during the week, a person from my past came back into my life. Dealing with this person was incredibly stressful and emotionally draining, so I didn't end up doing anything functional the entire weekend. I wanted to go climbing, work, go to aeirals drop in, but none of that happened. Instead I curled into a little ball, sweating and shaking with fever, afraid of the world outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, of course, I have no money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the real world, back to work, ignoring this person as best I can. I worked my day job monday and today, and got my hair done yesterday! It's super beautiful, red and purple microring human hair. I love it but it's been so long since I've had long hair, I'm totally clueless when it comes to styling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to work tonight, I've never worked a weeknight so hopefully it will go ok. I wish I dared try the amateur contest again, but I need some guarunteed money, even if its only $100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could make my brain be stable, push past the horrible feelings, and just be happy. Drugs (pharmaceutical or otherwise) become more and more appealing. But that's not who I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe a winning lottery ticket will fall on me out of the sky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-2688018971064708804?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2688018971064708804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/05/short-update.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2688018971064708804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2688018971064708804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/05/short-update.html' title='Short Update'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-2859985352880791419</id><published>2009-04-23T01:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T02:02:56.419-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>Amateur Night Recap</title><content type='html'>Well, that was a complete bust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh look, I'm great on stage and can work the crowd..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh wait, I didn't even place. I guess I'm REAL great at my job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was top 5 but not top 3. Albeit, the girl that got first was the bartender, and apparently the girl that placed second competes all the time, and always wins. She definitely had some stripper moves. The girl that got third... was hotter than me? Had really loud friends? The crowd decides who wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just feel like I'm not "typical" enough to do this job. I have a very small niche attraction. Like the girl at the carnival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The few times I've pulled the money it's been great, but I get more and more discouraged as time goes on. Dammit. I so wanted to be good at something, once in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-2859985352880791419?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2859985352880791419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/04/amateur-night-recap.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2859985352880791419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2859985352880791419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/04/amateur-night-recap.html' title='Amateur Night Recap'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-6862754708259300667</id><published>2009-04-19T10:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T10:57:03.897-06:00</updated><title type='text'>getting desperate</title><content type='html'>Terrible night at work. boring. awful. I tried, a little, and made nothing. I'm really kicking myself because I was too miserable to go last night, and my favourite regs were there while I wasn't. *headdesk*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a really hard time getting myself into work. I feel bored and sort of ugly. I want new shoes, a new outfit, new hair. yet I have money for none of this. boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may go to work today, though I'm tre tired and have to study. I most certainly will be rounding up a posse for amateur night on wednesday. anyone up for it? It's judged based on cheering, and I really need the money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-6862754708259300667?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6862754708259300667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/04/getting-desperate.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6862754708259300667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6862754708259300667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/04/getting-desperate.html' title='getting desperate'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-2533588269057424141</id><published>2009-04-06T14:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T14:37:04.126-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drink a little, wiggle around, make lots of money</title><content type='html'>I woke up on friday morning, pryed myself out of bed, and went into the shop to work on my furniture project. Of course this means by the time I got home, I had no interest at all in going to work. However, my dear lover kicked me out of bed, threw me in the shower, and said, "if you don't get dressed, I'm going to throw you in the door of the club in your towel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple regs were there early, but I had some real creepos to finish out the night. I was discouraged and exhausted by the time I got home. No, I will not take your $100 so you can lick my twat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversely, on saturday, I started off with a creepo who pulled his dick out in VIP, and I froze up, didn't know what to do, and just kept dancing. So a bouncer came in and I went "Oh shit, what does that look like?", but no one got mad at me, just accepted it as newbie mistake. Things got a lot better later on. I did 40 minutes in the VIP with a guy whos wife came in for the last 10 with another girl. Some men actually know how to respect the dancer and the rules, which is refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last day of class is wednesday... thank fucking god... but I still have lots of work to do before (and after) that. Ugh. Whos great idea was it for me to go to university, again? I'm ready to be done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-2533588269057424141?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2533588269057424141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/04/drink-little-wiggle-around-make-lots-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2533588269057424141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2533588269057424141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/04/drink-little-wiggle-around-make-lots-of.html' title='Drink a little, wiggle around, make lots of money'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-5762858431803518504</id><published>2009-03-31T16:08:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T17:18:44.005-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Everyone else can watch as their dreams untie</title><content type='html'>So, in my life, I cycle from being an intelligent, fierce, ground-pounding, money-making tribal warrior,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;into a drunken, manic, screaming, goth bitch,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;into the soft kitten that sleeps in the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT when I'm on, I'M ON. And this is one of the blogs that I've been reading when I am on, trying to learn some tricks about money and perhaps life. She tends to fill her blog with references to her motivational/teaching programs (which cost money), so I mist take it with a grain of salt, but even so. &lt;a href="http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&amp;amp;friendId=40968744&amp;amp;blogId=479464289"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; article was the inspiration for my current train of thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My priorities have shifted, a little. They were extremely scrambled, i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;number one&lt;/span&gt; is my mental health. It has always been precarious, but this year I have taken more time to recognize its triggers and patterns. These days I will let go of the requirements around me and let myself sleep and try to be happy. Part of this is working out at least once a week, taking days off to see my friends, and allowing myself time to get things done even if it means skipping work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;number two&lt;/span&gt; is my boy. I love him and he does a TON for me and I feel like I haven't been paying enough attention to him. Our life, our sex life, our house, takes precedence. What's it all for if not for him? (well for me too obviously, but the point is our mutual happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;number three&lt;/span&gt; is my edumacation. I spent all this time and money to be here, I like to consider myself an intelligent person, and I don't want the work I've put in all year to go to waste. It remains to be seen whether or not I will return. sociology &amp;amp; printmaking FTW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;number four&lt;/span&gt; is money, money, money. I love to travel, and I have already booked my flight out east in may. I bought my Emilie Autumn ticket for New York, and WON my ticket to Kinetik in Montreal! Whoooo! I also like stuff :D I bought a car, but I can't afford to insure it right now. I like to live comfortably, eat nice food,  travel around locally, go out. Which brings me to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;number five&lt;/span&gt; is friends &amp;amp; fun. I try to leave myself time for that. it helps with #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO because I've been so focused on one, two, and three, with a dash of five, that number four has suffered. I haven't been to work in three weeks (!!!) so that's why I'm so broke. That's also why I haven't had much to blog about! hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm off to work on number 3, with a little bit of number 5 later tonight hopefully :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-5762858431803518504?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5762858431803518504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-in-my-life-i-cycle-from-being.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5762858431803518504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5762858431803518504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-in-my-life-i-cycle-from-being.html' title='Everyone else can watch as their dreams untie'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-2635472320450655859</id><published>2009-03-24T20:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T21:45:49.531-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>She doesn't fit</title><content type='html'>She will never fit in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can't slide in between people, making eyes and conversation, covering the rough bits of herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her personality screams through her eyes, her loud words, her strange clothing. Everything about her is on the skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She screams neediness, big, sad eyes asking for a break, for a free ride, for your money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mania breaks through in hyper, self-deprecating outbursts. She giggles, bites too hard, runs off in a flurry of clumsiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her designs seem okay on paper, but come out all messy in real life. This is ok, even good, in her fashion, but here at school it is an utter failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-2635472320450655859?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2635472320450655859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-doesnt-fit.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2635472320450655859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2635472320450655859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-doesnt-fit.html' title='She doesn&apos;t fit'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-297120597094623554</id><published>2009-03-19T10:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T10:20:35.728-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A little better</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling a little better today, chipping away at the projects. I missed my morning class (again) but I may have gotten large project #2 almost out of the way. Large project #1 is within finishing sight and small project #3 is, well, barely started. But I can do it in the car on the way to snowboarding this weekend! Whoohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been to work in quite awhile and I doubt I will make it this weekend, as I have projects to finish and I'm still exhausted. It's bad to get out of the habit, because every dollar will count when I'm travelling. School is more important, though, right? I must force myself to continue believing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This life still seems silly and insane. I want to be working out more, getting outside, running around in the park, anything rather than in the shop or on the computer all the time. I do miss working, being able to come home at night and not worry about this project or that, or the reading I'm weeks behind on. Justifying this degree is challenging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I've put in this much time and effort, I'm going to finish at least this half.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-297120597094623554?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/297120597094623554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/297120597094623554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/297120597094623554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-better.html' title='A little better'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7756781915960975182</id><published>2009-03-18T10:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T11:33:03.602-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The world rushes by, and here I am</title><content type='html'>As everything around me speeds up, my life has taken off without me, my commitments and tasks and jobs race on ahead of my body. My body stays in suspended animation, blinking in surprise and the world zooms by in a blur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even finish a blog entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7756781915960975182?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7756781915960975182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/world-rushes-by-and-here-i-am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7756781915960975182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7756781915960975182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/world-rushes-by-and-here-i-am.html' title='The world rushes by, and here I am'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-3222877778188813431</id><published>2009-03-14T12:54:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T13:18:00.682-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='modelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><title type='text'>Michael Seelt Industrial Whore photoshoot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/Sbv_pMZsVPI/AAAAAAAAAC8/a633EpAWa_U/s1600-h/Trystan+%2830%29_studio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/Sbv_pMZsVPI/AAAAAAAAAC8/a633EpAWa_U/s320/Trystan+%2830%29_studio.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313121268582339826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate bleeding. I know, I know, TMI, but when you only work 2 days a week and those days end up being `heavy days` the weekend before you want to take a weekend off, then that means i'm going 3 WEEKS without earning a damn dime. I may try to squeeze in some weeknight shifts next week, but I have 3 projects DUE so AGGGGGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank god for my day job.. which just gave me $150 prosperity bonus. In this economy! A prosperity bonus! woot woot! Also, I booked my plane ticket to Montreal in May! heavy industrial here I come! ALSO, my new boots have arrived but I missed the post office hours yesterday so I have to wait all the way until MONDAY to get them. :( Booo at least I will have them for my stompy gothy dance party next Friday :D:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is insane, so I haven't been doing much of anything else, which is causing some soulmate strain. That's another reason I'm not going to bother going to work tonight, though I could probably make things work, because I need some 1-on-1 time. I feel like we've both been needing that a lot lately, life has been SUPER stressful. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, this post was just to post a couple pictures from my shoot over Reading Week with &lt;a href="http://www.seeltstudios.com/"&gt;Michael Seelt&lt;/a&gt;. it was a pretty amazing shoot, I am having a hard time picking just a couple to post :) I still have another shoot to post as well, but since I'm doing the post-production on that one, of course it hasn't gotten done. Surprise surprise! God I hate university. It sucks up all my spare creativity. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/Sbv_DIMZtMI/AAAAAAAAAC0/muMHgwH3niw/s1600-h/Trystan+%282%29_studio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/Sbv_DIMZtMI/AAAAAAAAAC0/muMHgwH3niw/s320/Trystan+%282%29_studio.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313120614617822402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;p.s. dear readers: as of yet I haven't posted any of my nude modelling pics. should I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-3222877778188813431?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3222877778188813431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-hate-bleeding.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3222877778188813431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3222877778188813431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-hate-bleeding.html' title='Michael Seelt Industrial Whore photoshoot'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/Sbv_pMZsVPI/AAAAAAAAAC8/a633EpAWa_U/s72-c/Trystan+%2830%29_studio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-2195326860449140768</id><published>2009-03-08T11:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T12:01:26.961-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='regulars'/><title type='text'>Dancing, always</title><content type='html'>So the last 2 nights at work have been pretty damn fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On friday, my regular couple came in to see me. They cheer me up so much, they are so young and cute and inappropriate. But I don't mind at all. (bad Trystan.) The girl is short and sweet and innocent, and they come in just to see me. The last time they were here it was the youthful rite of passage, the "oh my girlfriends is bisexual, I'll take her to the rippers," the oggling curiosity. Now, they adore me. In my punky, down-to-earth, rampant sexuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was fun, too, though it was UFC night which is always weird. The place was packed from a pub crawl too, but the guys on pub crawls never have any money and there's too many girls! Sometimes theres a good couple people, but you have to sift through the entire crowd to find them. I met a guy at the end of the night, and it was one of the first times I felt I really inticed someone with conversation. We got to talking about motorbikes, among other things, and did dance after dance after dance. I really enjoyed it and it really bumped up my earlier shitty time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep missing the slot between last call and 2:30 where you grab the guys for a last VIP on their way out. On friday it was because I had a last-call drink with a table of lawyers, who bought 5 dances between 2 of them, but I missed that last dance afterwards. Last night, at least it was because I was working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's been good. I paid back half of the money I've taken out of savings to buy boots and pay rent.. so hopefully I can get back on saving for that motorbike :D:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-2195326860449140768?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2195326860449140768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/dancing-always.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2195326860449140768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2195326860449140768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/dancing-always.html' title='Dancing, always'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-6414680410041904542</id><published>2009-03-01T03:20:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T03:26:16.187-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><title type='text'>sucky suck.</title><content type='html'>Tonight was shit. I made a lousy 200. I am 90% sure the girl counted my dances wrong, but what proof do I have? None. I learned a couple hard newbie lessons tonight, and I'm not very happy with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Keep your dance tickets&lt;br /&gt;*Don't believe guys when they say they are going to tip you, they just have to go to the ATM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I really wanted to take a weekend off in March and go snowboarding and see some people, but if I want to do the trips I'm planning I really can't afford to. Especially if things continue as they are. Ugggghhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my braids turned out less-than-spectacular, due to my thin short hair, cheap extension hair, and rushing them. Goddammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, I had an amazing night at the club with my friends last night! It was a really good time! I hung out with my girls, saw a bunch of amazing people, and went to a neat little afterparty at a gorgeous apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny, $200 is WAY more than my best night at the bar that I worked at last spring, and would still be considered a decent day tree planting, and is double what I make in a shift at my day job, BUT in comparison it feels horrible! I should be compensated better for dancing my naked ass off! Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live and learn, little gypsy, live and learn. You are young yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-6414680410041904542?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6414680410041904542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/sucky-suck.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6414680410041904542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6414680410041904542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/03/sucky-suck.html' title='sucky suck.'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-8519338513205051360</id><published>2009-02-25T13:38:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T13:49:45.330-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Life goes on.. simply!</title><content type='html'>So I was going to whine that no one ever updates their blog, but I haven't updated since sunday, so really I'm a hypocrite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been working my butt off on school projects, and I repaired my down jacket last night because it's now cold as HELL here! Quite literally! It is -20 C right now! Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading &lt;a href="http://zenhabits.net/"&gt;http://zenhabits.net &lt;/a&gt;and nodding along. I am so tired of living in my apartment with my roomates.. I have way too much stuff. I feel like I don't have the time to go through it and do the "stuff purge" that desperately needs to be done. I own too many backpacks, too many clothes, too many boxes filled with random things. It's too hard to keep things clean when they are all covered. I can't find the clothes I want to wear and sometimes I find things I forgot I had. (I still refuse to get rid of shoes, though. haha. Though I have at least 3 pairs I rarely wear, but then when I need them nothing else will do. And I still want to buy a pair of New Rocks.. if I ever save enough money to buy a bike.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have STILL been spending recklessly. I have only taken $100 out of my savings (1/2 my income) but I didn't plan very well for rent... in other words, I won't have any spending money next week after I put money in savings and pay rent this weekend. Not to mention the couple hundred dollars on my credit card, plus my phone bill. *sighs*. I'm back to working my day job twice a week, rather than once in the last 2 weeks, so hopefully it will go back to paying the bills and I can save some more. I really, really, cannot wait to be done school so I can have a routine, work more, save more, and enjoy my free time more... *rolls eyes*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I kidding, in the summer I'm taking 3 dance classes and going on 3 seperate vacations. Plus a canoe/climbing trip or two. hopefully that will be midweek so I can still bank thu-sun. The hardest part about budgeting is my income is unpredictable... Hence why I should be paying things a bit at a time rather than waiting all until the end of the month! Eurgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough ranting! I'm going to go buy a coffee. fuck saving my change. *pbths at herself*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-8519338513205051360?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8519338513205051360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-goes-on-simply.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8519338513205051360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8519338513205051360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-goes-on-simply.html' title='Life goes on.. simply!'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7857086325120263354</id><published>2009-02-22T13:14:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T13:36:16.040-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='industrial'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='customers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rent'/><title type='text'>Money Money</title><content type='html'>So the last two nights at work have been really fun. I haven't felt like hustling at all, so I've been inclined to just sit around at the bar, or at tables with young working guys, and shoot the shit. Honestly, it has paid off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On friday, one guy in a group of 4 bought me several drinks and dances. The bachelorette party sitting on the raised platform above handcuffed one of his friends to a railing, and I proceded to jump in and help bargain for his release.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You should let him go on the condition that he buys you a dance," I tell the girl. She's quite pretty, but not one of those chi-chi girls that comes in sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;"Only if my friend can come too," she replies, dangling the keys in front of our poor amigo.&lt;br /&gt;"Hey! I want to watch!" complains handcuffed boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I took all 3 of them for a dance. It was quite enjoyable, not to mention 3 times the money for the same amount of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of friday wasn't particularly remarkable, but I left at 1 to go home and play some guitar hero and enjoy some 1-on-1 time, so it wasn't particularly luctrative either. I'm totally spoiled by the fact that if I don't feel like working, its just another fun night out at the bar. All you plebs with your 9-5s, if you dont feel like working you are still stuck in an office! heeheehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was also mucho fun.. I had one guy who bought a total of 1/2 hour of dances and tipped me more than he paid for the dances... and I got to do a doubles dance with another girl to finish up the night. So I was back to my average, despite only starting work at about 10;30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately I'm still gonna be short for rent. I might try and go in on thursday after my night class, or early on friday and then take off to go to my fun dancy dance party with my friends... yay hard industrial! Hopefully my gorgeous white boots get here before then! fuck you canadian customs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*wiggles around happily*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, obviously I'm feeling much better. Ignore previous emo posts. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7857086325120263354?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7857086325120263354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/money-money.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7857086325120263354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7857086325120263354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/money-money.html' title='Money Money'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-6325629515311157974</id><published>2009-02-19T02:25:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:33:57.118-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='modelling'/><title type='text'>Oh, and also,</title><content type='html'>Here's a preview shot from my awesome shoot on sunday.. I also did a wicked shoot today, one of those shoots with crazy chemistry when you're trying to work but one of you is naked and your skin sizzles with tension and sparks with desire. But there's a camera between you. so you just tease and shoot and try to capture that energy on film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bride in the insane asylum... (click for full view)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v644/193/28/527711640/n527711640_1825229_2389.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 604px; height: 401px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v644/193/28/527711640/n527711640_1825229_2389.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-6325629515311157974?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6325629515311157974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-and-also.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6325629515311157974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6325629515311157974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-and-also.html' title='Oh, and also,'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-5001059705227392741</id><published>2009-02-19T00:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:35:01.253-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>Soooooo I'm drunk</title><content type='html'>I've been acting out lately, wallowing in my personality disorder, taking things too far again. I push the limits because I can, because it makes me high, because I get bored. I work myself to death because if I have free time I stagnate and become boring. I create drama because I need something to talk about and something to make me feel, alive, or broken, or on fire. I am a mess at any given moment, even though I really don't have to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's just the way I am. Maybe I could change it. I look at myself, disparaging, and laugh in that high, sarcastic, crazy way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take my clothes off and bask in the adulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take my skin off and show everyone the twisted bits underneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am made of tempered glass, transparent, sharp, bulletproof, defracting light and confusing things even when you can see my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to be good for a long time, but eventually I just can't keep it up anymore. I WANT someone to get mad at me again. I want to hit rock bottom again. I want to fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why? I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-5001059705227392741?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5001059705227392741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/soooooo-im-drunk.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5001059705227392741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5001059705227392741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/soooooo-im-drunk.html' title='Soooooo I&apos;m drunk'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-3904566634447282462</id><published>2009-02-18T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:35:01.253-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>Things are slipping apart again, so soon, dammit</title><content type='html'>Excerpts from a letter I wrote...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the seed of doubt. It festers in the darkness, and when the lights are on, when i am happy, you can't see into the shadows. But that seed of doubt lies in wait, catches fire to fill the darkness with destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart cries in anguish as I write, trying to give form and organization to the thoughts that keep creeping back in under my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the fault is my own. Who would trust a gypsy? How can you believe that someone with itchy feet and a turbulent personality wants a place to come home to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seed of doubt grows, roots twisting around her heart, and down into her soul. Perhaps if she rips out her own heart, making a clean break before the roots are too deep, her soul might survive when hope finally dies. She thinks, it is probably already too deep."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you will never love her enough....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-3904566634447282462?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3904566634447282462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-are-slipping-apart-again-so-soon.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3904566634447282462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3904566634447282462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-are-slipping-apart-again-so-soon.html' title='Things are slipping apart again, so soon, dammit'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-4529138560970418439</id><published>2009-02-12T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:32:08.863-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Non-writing</title><content type='html'>I have lots to say, but I have to finish a report and study for a midterm. Most of what I have to say revolves around how much I hate school anyways. Also, I hate bleeding from my nether regions and feeling un-pretty. Hopefully I feel better tomorrow, because I really need to make money this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-4529138560970418439?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4529138560970418439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/non-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4529138560970418439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4529138560970418439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/non-writing.html' title='Non-writing'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-4060846297919498448</id><published>2009-02-09T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:32:08.863-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>good morning blogosphere</title><content type='html'>I'm rather miserable today. Trying to finish a project and I forgot my wallet at home, so I'm going to have to go home to print it and hopefully find some food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want to do lately is work, hang out with Rob, and design clothes. And yet I'm stuck doing all this school junk. blegh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-4060846297919498448?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4060846297919498448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/good-morning-blogosphere.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4060846297919498448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4060846297919498448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/good-morning-blogosphere.html' title='good morning blogosphere'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7102290235810883914</id><published>2009-02-08T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:35:01.253-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>Saturday Night PMS</title><content type='html'>So I totally flaked on going to work last night. I just felt like it was one of those nights where I might cry at the slightest provocation. I'm still mildly disapointed in myself, though I don't think it's quite the end of the world. Instead of trying to deal with my crazy emotions, I just cocoon and hide. I just hope it doesn't become too much of a habit, and I still make lots of money this month. heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made dinner and cleaned the house though, and chilled and watched movies. I bought guitar hero III, but the stupid girl at the store didn't put the disk in the case! I have to go back and get it today. Though I can't play until I write 2 reports. And maybe study some art history *bleh*. I can't wait to be finished school... ergh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7102290235810883914?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7102290235810883914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/saturday-night-pms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7102290235810883914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7102290235810883914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/saturday-night-pms.html' title='Saturday Night PMS'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7593617706065587296</id><published>2009-02-07T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:29:50.011-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><title type='text'>Stripper Karma</title><content type='html'>I had a seriously decent night at work last night. Despite the fact the place was relatively empty, I had a fantastic conversation with J., whom I just met but hope to see again. He is entertaining, good looking, and buys dances... it would be nice to have some good regulars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still feel like there are some elements of "strip club etiquette" that I'm just not getting. I can never figure out what to say when a guy asks, "well, what are you gonna do differently next time?" "More of the same, numbnuts, and you're going to love it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well I don't actually say that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm going to cook vegetarian spaghetti and then work a long shift. Woot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7593617706065587296?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7593617706065587296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/stripper-karma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7593617706065587296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7593617706065587296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/stripper-karma.html' title='Stripper Karma'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-5348294261462629908</id><published>2009-02-06T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:31:08.090-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><title type='text'>So... Life</title><content type='html'>So I went shoe shopping yesterday, and man was it a disaster. I figured out I don't REALLY have size 10 feet, I have just always bought size 10 because I need the width in the toes. But when buying heels, I just slip down in the size 10s. I can wear boots fine, because the upper holds my foot in, but when its just a little ankle strap, or no strap at all, its a disaster. I even looked at cross-dressing heels built for men, but they are very ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One pair of Pleasers I tried weren't too bad, but I'm still fairly wobbly on stillettos vs. a more chunky boot heel. I may go back and get them later, but I think for now I will stick with my boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other biggest issue is.. hair removal. waxing causes ingrowns. shaving causes razor burn. I'm almost ready to start dropping $200/session on laser removal, but I'm just not quite making enough money yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to work tonight.. it feels like I've been working much longer than I have.. but I haven't. I am still learning, so I still can't predict how tonight will go. Confidence is key.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile, "me love you long time!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-5348294261462629908?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5348294261462629908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5348294261462629908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5348294261462629908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-life.html' title='So... Life'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-4112389033565287187</id><published>2009-02-03T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:31:08.090-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><title type='text'>SHOES glorious shoes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjxX3PeHnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/A1pjS2RVmSM/s1600-h/4720_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjxX3PeHnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/A1pjS2RVmSM/s320/4720_1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298750353869512306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I don't already own enough shoes... but here are some I have been drooling over. I will probably try to find a pair in town first, as my feet are very finicky. I have one very cute pair I got for $30 at a halloween store, but because they have a closed (pointed) toe, I can't wear them for very long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Both off ebay:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjlbNdxo-I/AAAAAAAAAA4/-xV-W-SMFwo/s1600-h/81c9_1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjlbNdxo-I/AAAAAAAAAA4/-xV-W-SMFwo/s320/81c9_1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298737217235166178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Versace fall collection 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjoAxnOq1I/AAAAAAAAABQ/Cr-xIa6jzqY/s1600-h/image.axd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjoAxnOq1I/AAAAAAAAABQ/Cr-xIa6jzqY/s320/image.axd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298740061616909138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Via Snaz75.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.snaz75.com/ts-judy.html"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjm9TFiV8I/AAAAAAAAABI/zcnNyEi_XAE/s320/ts-judy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298738902371293122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non-work shoes I am drooling over:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Demonia Cyber-stackers via &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/STACK-308-Knee-Boot-Black-Size/dp/B000QFOA6E/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=shoes&amp;amp;qid=1233709814&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Amazon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjrQ8e9BRI/AAAAAAAAABY/GYOtcBftiMM/s1600-h/31Z3rGP6KML._AA280_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjrQ8e9BRI/AAAAAAAAABY/GYOtcBftiMM/s320/31Z3rGP6KML._AA280_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298743637947778322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Rock Goodies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjwEEfh_bI/AAAAAAAAABo/2Jj6hwaTahY/s1600-h/138+ITALI+Y+NOMADA+NEGRO+TOWER+NEGRO+ACERO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjwEEfh_bI/AAAAAAAAABo/2Jj6hwaTahY/s320/138+ITALI+Y+NOMADA+NEGRO+TOWER+NEGRO+ACERO.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298748914317524402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjwLWN38OI/AAAAAAAAABw/UOTvBZpfBPY/s1600-h/8272_S1_IT_NE_NOM_NE_CU_PLAT_NE_T_BANDAS_AC_NE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjwLWN38OI/AAAAAAAAABw/UOTvBZpfBPY/s320/8272_S1_IT_NE_NOM_NE_CU_PLAT_NE_T_BANDAS_AC_NE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298749039334387938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short list of the shoes I own: (pictures someday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Fluevog Grand Nationals ($600)&lt;br /&gt;~Swear 4" trucks (calf) ($300)&lt;br /&gt;~PVC lace-up boots, 6" heel ($200)&lt;br /&gt;~Custom Ayyawear motorcycle boots ($400)&lt;br /&gt;~Helly Hansen flat lace-up winterboots ($200)&lt;br /&gt;~Wal-mart patent platform heels (free)&lt;br /&gt;~Aldo wedge boots (free)&lt;br /&gt;~classy stilettos&lt;br /&gt;~PVC Mary Janes ($30)&lt;br /&gt;~nameless Steampunk heels (Army &amp;amp; Navy, $30)&lt;br /&gt;PLUS Pennalagen Dreams white high-heeled calf-height buckle boots in the mail!&lt;br /&gt;(plus a few pairs of practical shoes.. heh..)&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-4112389033565287187?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/4112389033565287187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/shoes-glorious-shoes.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4112389033565287187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/4112389033565287187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/shoes-glorious-shoes.html' title='SHOES glorious shoes...'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYjxX3PeHnI/AAAAAAAAAB4/A1pjS2RVmSM/s72-c/4720_1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-7972537261508245295</id><published>2009-02-03T00:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:32:08.864-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Cinnamon Dreams</title><content type='html'>I love my life. I love sunday mornings, relaxed and full of food, and sunday afternoons studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on a quest. I have a thousand goals and hopes and dreams and ideas that i want to spit out into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quests for now:&lt;br /&gt;~do well in school&lt;br /&gt;~save lots of money&lt;br /&gt;~climb on tuesdays and do yoga on fridays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quests for the spring:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~climbing&lt;br /&gt;~yoga on fridays&lt;br /&gt;~hoop dance class&lt;br /&gt;~aerial skills class&lt;br /&gt;~practice violin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer travels:&lt;br /&gt;~Kinetik Festival in Montreal May 14-17&lt;br /&gt;~Emilie Autumn show in New York May 22&lt;br /&gt;~North Saskatchewan River whitewater trip&lt;br /&gt;~Shambhala (Nelson, BC) August 5-11&lt;br /&gt;~Burning Man (Reno, Nevada) August 31 - September 7&lt;br /&gt;~Las Vegas? San Francisco? L.A.!!&lt;br /&gt;~Fly to New Zealand via LAX&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onwards:&lt;br /&gt;~Indonesia, Thailand, India, Nepal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the while dancing my way across the continents....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my dear friends, I will be focusing on physical creative endeavors, along with hopefully making some costumes for burning man, and dancing around naked of course, hopefully for massive amounts of cash. Well, we'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-7972537261508245295?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/7972537261508245295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/cinnamon-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7972537261508245295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/7972537261508245295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/02/cinnamon-dreams.html' title='Cinnamon Dreams'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-5189219288366824662</id><published>2009-01-30T14:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:35:01.253-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='modelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>Motherfucking crazy little girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYNtQWxL3LI/AAAAAAAAAAw/M4Ix0m5whw4/s1600-h/danicainternet1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297197714475048114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYNtQWxL3LI/AAAAAAAAAAw/M4Ix0m5whw4/s320/danicainternet1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a fighter. I won't give up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gonna make some money, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gonna make my way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gonna figure this shit out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-5189219288366824662?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5189219288366824662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/motherfucking-crazy-little-girl.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5189219288366824662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5189219288366824662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/motherfucking-crazy-little-girl.html' title='Motherfucking crazy little girl'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/SYNtQWxL3LI/AAAAAAAAAAw/M4Ix0m5whw4/s72-c/danicainternet1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-3859059627444253198</id><published>2009-01-29T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:35:01.253-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>This fractured girl</title><content type='html'>This fractured girl, this creature lying in the snow, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, in case she shatters the delicate balance. She knows, eventually her neurotic tendencies, her disorganization, her lost-child-mentality, become too much to handle. She knows, eventually, she is better off left to her own devices, to succeed or fail for no one's benefit but her own. When she can no longer reach out, scrambling, for help in the witching hour, she knows she can't let you see the aftermath either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all or nothing with her, even still after the advances she has made, she still doesn't believe she can fix herself. So when the bend begins to crack, she feels there's no return to whole and healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this belief is self-defeatist. Maybe this belief is a self-fulfilling prophecy. But these beliefs aren't easily shaken. There are no promises made, no one who said "I'll be there for you, no matter what, no matter when." There is no "forever." There's no such thing as forever. And when she's no longer strong enough, no longer together enough, that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So? Where do I go from here? Fake it till I make it? Give up like I always have? Pretend that maybe later, I'll grow up and be all better? Ha. Other people don't deserve to have me mad at them for not being available at 4 o'clock in the morning. But I will be. So, again, I feel like I have to save other people from becoming collateral damage to my own self-destruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, school is stressful as fuck, as usual. I have way too many things going on. Very cool photoshoot coming up in a couple weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-3859059627444253198?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/3859059627444253198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-fractured-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3859059627444253198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/3859059627444253198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-fractured-girl.html' title='This fractured girl'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-8578971547460514962</id><published>2009-01-26T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:35:01.254-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>finding something</title><content type='html'>The hardest part about a higher education, isn't the work, or the expense, or the mental strain. It's the isolation. The fact I can't go out, because I have to come here and work. I miss my laptop... the ability to go where I want and work. and not be so distracted, and alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel things slipping. Nothing, truly, is wrong, but my head isn't there. not enough. There's too many other things going on, flitting in and out of my head like birds. My time becomes precious, my money not so much. Every ounce of energy is spent, for marks, fun, and profit, and there's nothing left for love. I can't remember the last time I went grocery shopping or cooked a meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The self splinters, every piece getting more and more transparent as they become smaller, the light filtering through the holes, the girl you loved, far away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-8578971547460514962?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/8578971547460514962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/finding-something.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8578971547460514962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/8578971547460514962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/finding-something.html' title='finding something'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-6346830732782383038</id><published>2009-01-25T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:35:13.314-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><title type='text'>pj's and cookies</title><content type='html'>I'm not going to bother going to work tonight. I'm too fried and too lazy; besides, its a sunday. Instead, I'm catching up on &lt;a href="http://http//en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Secret_Diary_of_a_Call_Girl"&gt;Secret Diary of a Call Girl&lt;/a&gt; - what a fantastic, hilarious, poignant show. check it out on showcase or the movie network (in canada) if you get a chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-6346830732782383038?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6346830732782383038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/pjs-and-cookies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6346830732782383038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6346830732782383038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/pjs-and-cookies.html' title='pj&apos;s and cookies'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-6309576631781539935</id><published>2009-01-25T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:33:43.807-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='modelling'/><title type='text'>Whirlwind Weekend</title><content type='html'>Friday: Photoshoot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Schoolgirl in the rain, meet me out by the bikeracks. You bring the vodka, I'll bring the brass knuckles. Dripping blood and tears. Hot hot hot. It reminds me of t.a.t.u.'s lesbian make-out video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a great skirt out of the deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: Dance around with all your clothes off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haircut: $60&lt;br /&gt;agency fee: $200&lt;br /&gt;security clearance: $30&lt;br /&gt;liscensing fee: $120&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first nights take: $450&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dancing isn't hard. It's the hustle that's hard. Keeping up a conversation. Making the patron believe you only want to talk to them, and nobody else in the bar, and you're not just here for their money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chatting with a couple, decent looking guy and a gorgeous tattooed chick with tons of tatts and cute piercings, and they argue over who will pay for her private dance. I lead her by the hand, touch her shoulder, touch her arm, wish every patron could be like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish I could take you home and beat you," she laments with a smile when I finish.&lt;br /&gt;(I wish she could to), I answer in my head. Out loud,&lt;br /&gt;"Come back. see my stage show. be my regular." (let me get to know you so I can come home with you..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I want to go to work tonight... I'm lazy. I would have to leave in less than 2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;less than 1 hour now. oops. ciao for now darlings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-6309576631781539935?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6309576631781539935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/whirlwind-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6309576631781539935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6309576631781539935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/whirlwind-weekend.html' title='Whirlwind Weekend'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-2106501646477777155</id><published>2009-01-22T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:30:29.790-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>FASHION DROOL LIST&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(If you want to buy any of these for me, I'll give you my address. go ahead. stalk me. I don't care.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.s1drom.com/shop/product_info.php/products_id/709"&gt;Pekoa Legwarmers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(size S/M, khaki)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/defective/leggwarmer_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.s1drom.com/shop/product_info.php/manufacturers_id/16/products_id/674"&gt;Aestuo Jacket&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(size M, black)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/defective/astuo_0.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lip-service.com/handlers/presale_style.php?style_id=74-66&amp;amp;cat=SPRING+2009"&gt;Lip Service Tick Tock Underbust Corset&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(size L)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, if only I had free time to work on my own clothing line. Onwards and off into the fierce windstorms of this cold city, my darlings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-2106501646477777155?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/2106501646477777155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/fashion-drool-list-if-you-want-to-buy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2106501646477777155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/2106501646477777155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/fashion-drool-list-if-you-want-to-buy.html' title=''/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-6198333704392286649</id><published>2009-01-21T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:30:29.790-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Leather Chaps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;The smooth, sweet smell of new leather. Heady with memories of my father's jacket, stolen from the basement when I was 15. Memories of punks, Lucky Lager, mickey's of Smirnoff, ancient condoms left in the pockets. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Leather, meant for motorbikes, for long journeys, to send the eyes up to the top of the thigh, stopping just below the curve of the ass&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;contained in tight, tight jeans or highlighted in barely-there bikini bottoms. Painted-on leather, hems brushing the top of ass-kicker black workboots, or slick black vinyl heels. Leather, smelling like adventure, like sex, like rebellion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;somebody buy me some damn leather chaps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-6198333704392286649?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/6198333704392286649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/leather-chaps.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6198333704392286649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/6198333704392286649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/leather-chaps.html' title='Leather Chaps'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5849673529920553720.post-5854856931709121444</id><published>2009-01-20T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:34:38.777-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stripping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='modelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='borderline personality disorder'/><title type='text'>travels of the fae</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;i am: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;an artist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;an exotic dancer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;a climber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;a costume designer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;dreaming of a thousand journeys. motorbikes, waterfalls, mountains. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;This is the platform for the chronicling of these journeys. It is not for the faint of heart! Beware, all ye who enter here. don't share my secrets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5849673529920553720-5854856931709121444?l=trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/feeds/5854856931709121444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/travels-of-fae.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5854856931709121444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5849673529920553720/posts/default/5854856931709121444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trystanthegypsy.blogspot.com/2009/01/travels-of-fae.html' title='travels of the fae'/><author><name>Danica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FWdyiqbqZXY/S02MCPXBB0I/AAAAAAAAADo/e6COJpvTB40/S220/8123_316217120203_632465203_9484631_732654_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
