So, because some twit didn't get a promotion, in her rage she dumped some 40-odd cases on me all with deadlines within a week. The result was 14 hour days until the boss caught on and gave her a piece of his mind.

I love my boss. I really do. But unfortunately, her breakdown meant that, for the past couple of weeks, any semblance of a life has completely diminished.

That said, in most awesome news, Leaether Strip, a band I have listened to since the age of 14, has just released their latest CD, "Yes, I'm Limited" with a shot Evi Numen did of me gracing the cover:

You can get it here here.

I couldn't have asked for a more brilliant shoot with a more awesome team, so here are the results!

Photographer: The Stuntkid. Norfolk, VA.
Designer: Electra Designs Corsetry











And just for fun:

The next day, we arrived in Belize. Thanks to a non-existent wake-up call, Sean and I missed out on an excursion that I was not only looking forward to, but that I had also convinced Geoff/echo_echo to tag along with.

So, in my desperation to see SOMETHING and get the fuck off the ship, I dragged Sean to the mainland where, long story short, I ended up paying a guy of questionable integrity to drive us around the city for a "tour" (he ended up taking us to the airport). It blew, but I hope that somewhere, somehow, I gleaned some sense of what a third world nation is really like beyond the tourist shops.

Take, for instance, this now-defunct Dickies sweatshop:



( Soaring Through Rainforests with Monkeys on our Shoulders (plus a rare video of me booty dancing to Lady Gaga) )

After attending Cruciform Injection's brilliant performance on the second day of the cruise, we headed off for the evening so that we could prepare for one of the most incredible days of our trip: the heart of the ancient Mayan and Aztec empires, the Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico.

Upon docking in Cozumel, Sean and I raced to catch a high-speed ferry that would carry us to the mainland to meet a man I hired, Javier, who would show us this beautiful part of the world and the remnants of the people who shaped it:


(the main temple and plaza at Tulum)


( Roaming Ruins and Swimming in Sacrificial Sinkholes. )

So, the trip to LA went beautifully. Great shoots, brilliant people, and complete hysteria with everyone from Dylan Monroe and my dearest TC, to random, single-serving club friends.

To begin, I will start at the end:


(Heather, fresh from Japan and modeling for a Marc Jacobs campaign; Jessica Love with all her gorgeous ink; and Dylan straining to crush me at this lovely dive bar on Monday night)

Though I don't drink, I fully appreciated the hilarious fact that the first guy who came over to the table to hit on us spilled Jessica's drink all over the table as he leaned across to ask me about Georgia. He was so humiliated that he literally ran away (as we laughed and yelled for him to come back a clean up his mess).

As if that weren't funny enough, the second guy who came over (sporting full-on Flock of Seagull's hair), thought he's be more intriguing if, instead of speaking to Heather, he wrote messages on napkins to her. Just when I thought it couldn't get more bizarre, he begins commenting on her "visage" and asking if I'm a goth chick while trying to engage me in German (which was semi-impressive, actually).

However, the highlight came when he took my and Heather's hands in his and commented on how delicate they were. At this point, Dylan intervened by extending his (giant)hand forward and deadpanning: "You know, I have really delicate hands, too."

Much to our amazement, the man takes Dylan's hand in his own, dwarfed one, kisses it, and says to Dylan: "You wanna make out?"

To be honest, I was laughing so hard that I didn't really hear Dylan's reply, though I do know the guy fucked off rather quickly. Damnit all, I wish I'd actually heard what he said to that poor man.

( Anyway, we were soon back to our evening. )

Not that anyone is particularly interested, but since I've started working myself into an early grave, I feel like this journal has gotten a little naked (though that will change soon with the Stuntkid shots coming in!). So, while I'm in LA this weekend and off to Mexico next weekend, enjoy some club randomness from this past weekend:



(me and Alison)

( People harassing me and more big hair!!! )

Even as I work my fingers to the bone, await our vacation to Mexico/Belize/Honduras, worry over our friend, and rejoice in Snowball's turnaround (he's been feeling pretty great), I still found time to hop up to Norfolk, VA, this weekend to shoot with the brilliant Stuntkid.

I am officially his last model, and I couldn't be more thrilled with the results. We shot so many beautiful, custom items, and I can't wait to share the results.

In the mean-time, here's a fun outtake with my hairstylist who was genuinely terrified of breasts. I mean, can't you see the trauma on his face?

Since I missed out on DragonCon, here are a few shots from my amazing weekend at Torture Garden in Toronto. It was a really lovely way to break up the monotony of my two weeks of investigator training in Pennsylvania. Perhaps I will flee to Canada more often in the near future.


(First night of Torture Garden in my new Steamtrunk Couture dress (my design), with Emily of Artifice Clothing and the designer of Ego Assassin Latex)

( Click For More Action... )

Even as Snowball turns a corner for the better (at least for now, his cancer is still terminal, though it appears he might have a shot at some more time with a good quality of life), the depressing news never takes a break.

Today we learned that a dear friend and someone who has essentially been Sean's sister for the last 22 years has been diagnosed with acute leukemia, a rare cancer. She's 35, and until last week, was the picture of vegetarian, yoga-loving, clean-living health.

It's fucking unreal in the worst possible way.

I'm trying to have hope because she will be getting the best and most immediate treatment and because she's not the type to surrender to something like this, but it's just a bit surreal for me right now. But Sean -- I can see the fear of loss swelling within and see myself in him in ways I never wanted. I can't help but be reminded of when I lost Missa to a car accident just two months after my beloved grandfather (who was essentially my dad) died under miserable circumstances, tied to a hospital bed and rendered speechless.

But as I tell Sean and myself, this one's still alive. And there's no chance at life, however small, that should be taken for granted.

As a needed respite from the Snowball saga, I give you the crowning fruit of my labor in NYC:





Vlad was amazing -- he built the set, bought the props (including the giant, dead fish), and then proceeded to create some of the most elaborate work I've ever had the pleasure of being a part.

Last night, Snowball seemed fearful and withdrawn. It was only when buried my face into the thin fur of his razor shoulder blades and pressed kisses into the space between them that, at last, it started. A low gurgle in the chest. The rumble of contentment the stroking hand alone would not yield.

It gave me enough hope to go forward today with the recommended splendectomy, which has been known to cure aggressive mast cell carcinoma if it's caught in time and can significantly prolong life (and its quality) even when the cancer has spread. And though I prayed that my last childhood cat would at least survive the surgery and that it would be the only organ the cancer had spread to, the end result was bittersweet.

He had enough fight in him to make it through the operation, but the vet saw that his liver was enlarged and deduced that it had most likely spread to that organ as well.

As a result, his prognosis now ranges from grim to guarded.

It could be that he continues to dwindle downhill, or, he could rally and survive as long as a year -- perhaps even to see his 12th birthday next summer -- but nothing is certain. The cancer he has is as unpredictable as it is rare.

But as I look at the watery trails of blood on the floor and fret over his inadequate appetite, I can only pray that we have not subjected him to the torment or surgery for nothing, for the thin hope that he might be cured only to learn he might be too far gone. I am not prepared to accept that type of cruelty, especially not when I am the perpetrator.


Snowball (he's in the back) and Dierdre earlier this spring.

Snowball's spleen biopsy came back positive for cancer. He has suddenly ceased eating anything (nothing yesterday or today, despite trying 15 different foods at all hours of the day). He's emaciated.

We're going to try to syringe-feed today as we await our veterinary appointment Tuesday morning (also my first day out of training and at work)to see if he can stand having his spleen removed (a surprisingly simple surgery with a good prognosis -- if the cat will at least eat) or if it should even be attempted.

I fear every moment I look at him I am edging closer to my last. I am crushed.

I don't have much time for a an extended update, but I am happy to say that Snowball made it through his operation with flying colors. That said, he's got a 4" wound on his side and had to have a spleen biopsy, too (it was enlarged, though the vet said it could be from many, benign, things). However, the point is that he made it and is recovering well thus far.

I'm just incredibly sad that I couldn't be there for him and won't be able to see him for at least another 10 days...

As for training, it's going great. Sadly, I'm stuck in Amish country north of Pittsburgh, but my coworkers are rather awesome and I'm escaping to Toronto for the weekend -- it will be a much-needed respite from all the madness here.

In a few hours I'm leaving to spend two weeks in Pittsburgh as part of my investigator training. And while part of me is excited, I am also filled with dread because Snowball is finally going in for his surgery tomorrow morning and I won't be here is something goes awry or should he need additional care afterward.

Actually, the thought of not being able to be with him at all while he goes through this makes me quite sad.

So, while you may wish me luck, I'd appreciate it even more if you guys kept your fingers crossed for him, especially,

I learned of some very sad news today. Tikka, a Bengal tiger I had the pleasure of meeting two summers ago at the Metrolina Wildlife Park/sanctuary, died of a heart murmur a few days ago.


(Tikka licking my hand.)

I remember the afternoon dystroyreality took Sean and I to meet her. As we stepped out of the car, I was so nervous, with so much adrenaline pumping through my veins, but it all vanished when I saw Tikka, the 8-year-old cat with a cataract-afflicted eye and a gentle temperament.

Though fully aware and respectful of her status as a wild animal, I couldn't resist stroking her behind the ears as she groaned with pleasure or letting her lick my palms with her sandpaper tongue as she softly chuffed her breath against my skin.


(Tikka, Sean, and me)

The experience brought such a surge of emotion that it's difficult to describe. I couldn't help but think of the hundreds of tigers that die every year at the hands of poachers in order to feed demand for traditional Chinese medicine and black market pelts. I couldn't help but imagine that I might one day live in the world where tigers no longer exist the in the wild -- where the only place any will be able to call home will lie within the confines of zoos, breeding facilities, and well-meaning rescue centers like the Metrolina.


(Tikka)

My only comfort comes from knowing that Tikka and her fellow big cats, wolves, bears, and other animals at the sanctuary were and are loved and cared-for. But each loss feels like one too many on a planet where only an estimated 5,000-7,000 remain in the wild.

If you would like to help the plight of tigers and other wildlife, please visit the World Wildlife Federation. Not only does the WWF work with governments worldwide to ensure that species receive the protected status and habitats they need to survive, but it also works with communities to provide solutions for farmers and villagers who might kill the animals out of fear or while trying to protect valuable livestock.

In their native habitats of Russia, China, India, Malaysia, and other regions, tigers are crucial to maintaining a balanced ecology. A world without them is one that I don't care to imagine.

Here are some of the photos I did with the positively rockin' Steve Prue in NYC.



(Hair,MUA, and Wardrobe by Me. And yes, that is a muscle-vein in my arm...I can't decide if it's hot or scary.)

My husband refers to these shots as "his new stroke material" since I have red hair AND boobs in one of them ( beneath the cut. NSFW )

As I settle in to start my training tomorrow morning, I figured this might hold things over until the job madness calms down a bit.

Two weekends ago I hopped up to Columbia, SC, for a day to work with a budding -- yet talented -- photographer, Scott Bilby. So, I threw on my favorite Buddhaful outfit, hopped over to a friend's incredible Gothic mansion, and set out to create something a little darker and moodier than my usual fare. Enjoy!



( Four More Shots )

Here are some shots from my shoot with the wonderfully talented Studio X. These were done in a huge, abandoned asylum near Long Island, NY.



( Four More Shots, SFW )

Wow, so it turns out I'm starting my job much sooner than anticipated -- months sooner, in fact. I guess that's what you get when your two closest family members and about half of your references have secret/top secret clearance. This means I'm getting my car at the end of August!

That bad news? Well, I'm having to use some of my vacation time when I go to LA and then to Mexico/Belize/Honduras in October. Also, I'm stuck in Pittsburgh, PA for two weeks at the end of August. If only it were Philly, instead.

At least it doesn't start before Snowball has his cancer surgery (next Weds.), as I want to be able to be here for him. I have hope, though. He's been acting healthier and happier than ever, even though he is still a bit too thin for my taste.

Also, I'm going to have tons of pictures from Steve Prue, Studio X, Vlad Voloshin, and Scott Bilby coming in soon. A little visual stimuli never hurts.

Ok, we just went to the vet and found that Snowball's cancer surgery next week is going to be $1,000.00 -- something we don't have offhand. So, I am yet again selling a pile of custom corsets, latex, and other goodies that are either new or like-new. I accept Paypal, checks, and well-concealed cash.

First up:



This is for a custom Gabriella overbust corset by Starkers in deep red brocade. It is clean and in LIKE-NEW condition. It will best fit busts 36B/34C/36C/34D/36D/34DD/36DD, waists 25"-28", and hips 35"-38". It laces shut at 21" and features a back-lacing protector. I am asking $240 or better offer plus $14 shipping in the US. International customers inquire for rates.

( Click for More!!! )