So I logged in late this morning to my AOL address and found 135 returned emails. WTF?? I also got several emails from friends, all with the same message: "You've been hacked."
Ugh. My apologies to anyone who got funky spam email from me last night or this morning. I have changed my password and that seems to have halted the insanity. Also running a full spyware/malware scan. Oh, and to add insult to injury, I just got a rent increase.
This has not been a good few days -- not for me, not for some of my friends either. ST's car repairs are very expensive -- we're talking thousands. John has to go back to the doctor on Friday to get fluid drained from his knee. Family issues with another friend; play partner issues with yet another. And the beat goes on. As you can see, I deleted yesterday's post. I was in a vulnerable state and it was just too personal, and too damned abstract and weird. I did save it, along with all the kind comments people posted. So thank you.
But enough of that. In honor of Leap Day, I'm going to leap forward into some upcoming fun and happy times.
A week from this Saturday, the lovely Lily Starr will be in town, and I will be shooting Clips4Sale content with her and her boyfriend. The message she sent was a keeper, so complimentary and sweet (and the timing was perfect, as I got it around the same time I got that @#$%ing restraining order, so it cheered me up). So I will meet with them at their hotel and we're doing three scenes. (She usually shoots both M/F and F/F, but in this case, they'll be all M/F.) We were bouncing around a couple of ideas for plots, and here's mine -- I'll be taken to task for getting involved in online flame wars (straight out of the pages of FetLife). Rather timely, don't you think? We could have lots of fun with it. Of course, no names will be mentioned, but our friends will know! (snicker)
And in less than two months -- Boardwalk Badness!! I still can't believe we're going. But the tickets are paid for, the hotel room is booked (good thing, because they ran out of rooms) and so is our flight. I think I scored a good flight; non-stop both ways, $280 each. I figured I'd better lock that in, rather than take a chance that I could find something cheaper down the line. In fact, when I first found that flight, it was $258, but I didn't book it right way -- I waited to check with John. He said fine, absolutely, grab it. So I went back the next day, and damned if the same flight hadn't gone up to $280. In one freaking day!
The buzz is already starting on FetLife. So many people going, so much to do. I actually talked John into taking an extra day off, and we're flying in Thursday afternoon. We're going for broke -- it's a very expensive weekend and I doubt we'll repeat it next year, but this time, we're doing it all the way! Arriving Thursday, leaving Monday morning. I have a feeling I'm going to have to declare Thursday night a socialize-only, no-spank evening; have to pace myself, after all. I'm going to be among some incredible spankers, and meeting new ones (well, new to me). Mustn't let my eyes get bigger than my bottom.
Fasten your seat belts, kids. I'm going to be Neurotic Nellie for the next couple of months. (Yeah, I know. How is that any different than how I usually am? sigh)
ST asked me last night how I was. I said I'll be better next Monday, which is true. I can't wait to see him, and to get some of my favorite kind of stress release. For today, however, the gym will have to suffice.
RIP, Daydream Believer.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Not my usual Monday post
A few friends have commented/written to me that my Monday night session with ST will do me a great deal of good this week, help me release some stress. I agree. However, poor ST has his own stress; his car is in the shop and he can't get here. So no session for us tonight.
I did, however, have a catharsis of sorts on Saturday afternoon. The FetLife BS on Friday, coupled with what happened on this blog on Saturday while I was offline (the latter has been deleted and will not be discussed any further), sent me into spectacular Erica-esque meltdown mode.
John, bless his heart, did all the right things. Asked very few questions. Took me into the bedroom, closed the blinds and lay on the bed with me, pulling the comforter over us both. Reached across me to snatch several tissues from the box on the nightstand, grabbing more as I saturated the ones I had.
I felt ridiculous, telling him what was going on. I said he must think I'm an idiot, overreacting like this to online stuff; that I probably needed to get more of a life. He replied that my distress was real and it didn't matter what the reason was. I love him for that. Sometimes, when you're upset, you do NOT need to hear how others really have it bad and you need to get a grip. It doesn't help.
Finally, I settled down and slept. Order was restored. But, as with an alcohol bender, emotional excess ravages the body. Today, I find myself pale, puffy-eyed and sluggish, with a mildly queasy stomach. Perhaps it's just as well that I won't be playing. As much as I will miss ST, I don't think I'd be a fun playmate this evening.
However, since it's Monday, I feel somewhat beholden to post something entertaining. So I will call your attention to a few new sampler clips on Spanking Tube.
I mentioned a while back that "Tubaman" Paul had opened his clips4sale "Spanking 101" store. Last week, he put up two 5 1/2-minute samplers of some of the clips. You can get a nice idea of the variety of material he has from these samplers and I am hoping they will pique people's curiosity.
Here is Sampler #1:
And here is Sampler #2:
In #1, I turn up twice, and in #2, three times. Can you spot me? :-)
Also, in the Spanking Court clip collection, there's a new sampler, nearly 3 minutes long, of various spanking snippets. I'm in this one as well, for about 3-4 seconds, at 1:19.
And finally, because it's not really a Monday without a "happy Erica" photo, here's an oldie:
Some of you may remember this one: it's from my first session ever with ST (who was New Guy back then), nearly a year-and-a-half ago, right after my birthday.
I intend to feel like that again soon. Next Monday will return to regularly scheduled perversity, I promise.
I did, however, have a catharsis of sorts on Saturday afternoon. The FetLife BS on Friday, coupled with what happened on this blog on Saturday while I was offline (the latter has been deleted and will not be discussed any further), sent me into spectacular Erica-esque meltdown mode.
John, bless his heart, did all the right things. Asked very few questions. Took me into the bedroom, closed the blinds and lay on the bed with me, pulling the comforter over us both. Reached across me to snatch several tissues from the box on the nightstand, grabbing more as I saturated the ones I had.
I felt ridiculous, telling him what was going on. I said he must think I'm an idiot, overreacting like this to online stuff; that I probably needed to get more of a life. He replied that my distress was real and it didn't matter what the reason was. I love him for that. Sometimes, when you're upset, you do NOT need to hear how others really have it bad and you need to get a grip. It doesn't help.
Finally, I settled down and slept. Order was restored. But, as with an alcohol bender, emotional excess ravages the body. Today, I find myself pale, puffy-eyed and sluggish, with a mildly queasy stomach. Perhaps it's just as well that I won't be playing. As much as I will miss ST, I don't think I'd be a fun playmate this evening.
However, since it's Monday, I feel somewhat beholden to post something entertaining. So I will call your attention to a few new sampler clips on Spanking Tube.
I mentioned a while back that "Tubaman" Paul had opened his clips4sale "Spanking 101" store. Last week, he put up two 5 1/2-minute samplers of some of the clips. You can get a nice idea of the variety of material he has from these samplers and I am hoping they will pique people's curiosity.
Here is Sampler #1:
And here is Sampler #2:
In #1, I turn up twice, and in #2, three times. Can you spot me? :-)
Also, in the Spanking Court clip collection, there's a new sampler, nearly 3 minutes long, of various spanking snippets. I'm in this one as well, for about 3-4 seconds, at 1:19.
And finally, because it's not really a Monday without a "happy Erica" photo, here's an oldie:
Some of you may remember this one: it's from my first session ever with ST (who was New Guy back then), nearly a year-and-a-half ago, right after my birthday.
I intend to feel like that again soon. Next Monday will return to regularly scheduled perversity, I promise.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Not having a good day
I had planned to post something a lot more interesting and thought-provoking, but that will have to wait. Something else just took precedence and I need to get it off my chest.
You all remember my talking about the recent flame wars on FetLife, with a certain person who upset a lot of others and whom I took on publicly because I couldn't stand how she was insulting my friends. That has died down in the past couple of weeks; this person left the group where all the wars were occurring, and we've moved on with new topics and so forth.
But just now, I received email from the FetLife caretakers. It reads as follows.
Hi Erica_Scott,
Because of the ongoing problems between you and sassyPGH, this email will serve for what we call a FetLife Restraining Order, in the hopes that it will help resolve any further problems between the two of you. What this does is request that you both, from this point on, cease speaking of (directly or indirectly), to, or about each other. We’re asking that you pretty much ‘pretend’ that the other person does not exist on the site. And yes, an email just like this one will be sent to them as well. :)
We will also request that both of you remove any other posts on FetLife about one another. If we come across any ourselves, we will remove them without notification or a warning (if they are from the past), and WITH notification and a warning (if they are from this point forward).
If this FetLife Restraining Order is violated in any shape or form, or if either you try to circumvent it, a warning will be issued. If the behavior continues, someone may be removed and banned from the site. We really hate to do that, but we hope that by creating this restraining order, both of you can get back to enjoying FetLife without any further problems. After all, having fun is what living a FetLife is all about!!! Well, as long as you define fun as… but we digress!
If things come to light that need our attention or if you have any questions, please feel free to email us.
I can't believe this. I've been served with an online restraining order. Like some sort of stalk-y, creepy troublemaker. It makes me feel sick.
Here is what I wrote back:
Dear Christopher,
I am very distressed and saddened by this. It has never been my intent to be regarded as a troublemaker on FetLife. I love the site and as you can see from my profile, I support it financially. As you can also see, I have many friends, so in general, I am not disliked.
I'm not normally a combative person; I avoid conflict like the plague. But SassyPGH is a dreadful person -- critical, judgmental, opinionated, passive-aggressively nasty, and if you check her records, you will see many arguments and flame wars in which she's been involved. She has insulted my friends many times, and one thing I cannot abide is seeing my friends insulted. I leap to their defense.
If you check back through the threads in question, you will see that, other than malcontent, I never resorted to calling her names. She, on the other hand, has referred to me and my friends as "pissy, petty narrow-minded bitches," "pathetic attention whores" and people who expect others to "kiss our royal paid-for asses." She threatened on a public thread to out someone's private information. (Unfortunately, the moderator took that post down.)
I have gone back into past threads, but I don't see any way to remove my posts. But I promise you there will been no new ones anywhere on FetLife regarding her, or even hinting at her, from now on. I admit I'm feeling a bit paranoid, like I'm being watched. It's not a nice feeling. However, I will cooperate fully, because I like this site and I would hate to lose it.
Respectfully,
Erica Scott
I feel like I'm going to have some sort of Big Brother-ish presence, overseeing all my posts to make sure I'm behaving myself. Perhaps that's paranoid of me, and I'm making a much bigger deal out of this than it is. But I'm just so damned upset right now.
There has been other nastiness on FetLife recently, and while I'm not directly involved with that, I'm friends with the person involved, so I'm guilty by association. I wonder if someone else reported me, just for malice. Again, I know that sounds paranoid, but with some of the crap going down online these days, nothing is impossible.
I don't want to be banned from FetLife. I have fun there and it keeps me in touch with so many friends. But right now, I'm feeling very icky about it. And very sad.
Not a good day, indeed. And I didn't even get Chrossed, dammit! :-(
You all remember my talking about the recent flame wars on FetLife, with a certain person who upset a lot of others and whom I took on publicly because I couldn't stand how she was insulting my friends. That has died down in the past couple of weeks; this person left the group where all the wars were occurring, and we've moved on with new topics and so forth.
But just now, I received email from the FetLife caretakers. It reads as follows.
Hi Erica_Scott,
Because of the ongoing problems between you and sassyPGH, this email will serve for what we call a FetLife Restraining Order, in the hopes that it will help resolve any further problems between the two of you. What this does is request that you both, from this point on, cease speaking of (directly or indirectly), to, or about each other. We’re asking that you pretty much ‘pretend’ that the other person does not exist on the site. And yes, an email just like this one will be sent to them as well. :)
We will also request that both of you remove any other posts on FetLife about one another. If we come across any ourselves, we will remove them without notification or a warning (if they are from the past), and WITH notification and a warning (if they are from this point forward).
If this FetLife Restraining Order is violated in any shape or form, or if either you try to circumvent it, a warning will be issued. If the behavior continues, someone may be removed and banned from the site. We really hate to do that, but we hope that by creating this restraining order, both of you can get back to enjoying FetLife without any further problems. After all, having fun is what living a FetLife is all about!!! Well, as long as you define fun as… but we digress!
If things come to light that need our attention or if you have any questions, please feel free to email us.
I can't believe this. I've been served with an online restraining order. Like some sort of stalk-y, creepy troublemaker. It makes me feel sick.
Here is what I wrote back:
Dear Christopher,
I am very distressed and saddened by this. It has never been my intent to be regarded as a troublemaker on FetLife. I love the site and as you can see from my profile, I support it financially. As you can also see, I have many friends, so in general, I am not disliked.
I'm not normally a combative person; I avoid conflict like the plague. But SassyPGH is a dreadful person -- critical, judgmental, opinionated, passive-aggressively nasty, and if you check her records, you will see many arguments and flame wars in which she's been involved. She has insulted my friends many times, and one thing I cannot abide is seeing my friends insulted. I leap to their defense.
If you check back through the threads in question, you will see that, other than malcontent, I never resorted to calling her names. She, on the other hand, has referred to me and my friends as "pissy, petty narrow-minded bitches," "pathetic attention whores" and people who expect others to "kiss our royal paid-for asses." She threatened on a public thread to out someone's private information. (Unfortunately, the moderator took that post down.)
I have gone back into past threads, but I don't see any way to remove my posts. But I promise you there will been no new ones anywhere on FetLife regarding her, or even hinting at her, from now on. I admit I'm feeling a bit paranoid, like I'm being watched. It's not a nice feeling. However, I will cooperate fully, because I like this site and I would hate to lose it.
Respectfully,
Erica Scott
I feel like I'm going to have some sort of Big Brother-ish presence, overseeing all my posts to make sure I'm behaving myself. Perhaps that's paranoid of me, and I'm making a much bigger deal out of this than it is. But I'm just so damned upset right now.
There has been other nastiness on FetLife recently, and while I'm not directly involved with that, I'm friends with the person involved, so I'm guilty by association. I wonder if someone else reported me, just for malice. Again, I know that sounds paranoid, but with some of the crap going down online these days, nothing is impossible.
I don't want to be banned from FetLife. I have fun there and it keeps me in touch with so many friends. But right now, I'm feeling very icky about it. And very sad.
Not a good day, indeed. And I didn't even get Chrossed, dammit! :-(
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Wednesday weirdness
As I look around the blogosphere lately, I'm reading such interesting, funny and poignant posts. I have no such thing here today. Just some random oddities.
First, in the ongoing madness of search keywords, here's the latest and strangest of the strange:
my panties lyrics
Funny, I never knew there was a song called "My Panties." Perhaps it goes something like this? (sung to the tune of "My Bonnie"):
My panties are grabbed by the waistband,
My panties are down to my knees,
My panties are pooled 'round my ankles,
Oh, pull up my panties for me!
Pull up, pull up,
Pull up my panties for me, for me
Pull up, pull up,
Oh, pull up my panties for meeeeee!
Thank you. I have ruined yet another song. :-)
Yesterday, I did the bus-and-train sojourn downtown to see the periodontist, who is monitoring my gum recession. Good news -- in six months, there's been no change, which means I don't need to have surgery. We agreed he'll check me every six months and keep an eye on things.
Thank goodness it's only every six months. I don't know how people deal with daily commutes on public transportation. On the way downtown, the woman seated behind me had a wet, dripping, horrible cold, and I had to listen to a rattling, phlegmy sniffle every minute or so. For God's sake -- haven't you heard of Kleenex? I wanted to reach into my purse, withdraw my pocket pack of tissues and fling it over my shoulder. Blow your @#$%ing nose!!
But that was nothing compared to the ride home. Fortunately, I have a good photographic memory and I can relay a lot of detail. Still, nothing compares to the actual sight before my eyes, stepping onto the bus and sitting down across from me.
I don't know how old she was -- maybe early to mid 20s. Doesn't matter. It's what she wore that burned into my retinas.
A baby-doll dress, white with blue and gold paisley print and adorned with blue sequins. It barely came down to her thighs, so underneath it she wore -- wait for it -- multiple layers of starched, ruffled lavender petticoats. It would have looked ridiculous had she been thin, but unfortunately, the image was worsened by the fact that she was quite overweight.
But wait, there's more. On her feet were rainbow-colored, tie-dyed sneakers and light blue bobby socks. On each wrist, several dime-store bangles (plastic, rhinestones, macrame). She had a large multi-colored clip in her hair, shaped like a butterfly. And she wore large headphones. OK, nothing strange about headphones, right? But these weren't just any headphones. They were covered with purple and pink heart-shaped rhinestones.
Topping off the ensemble? A turquoise Tinkerbell backpack.
I tried not to stare. But it was like the proverbial car wreck.
I'm reminded of a line I heard many years ago -- I can't remember who it was, but this performer (a comic, I think) was talking to a woman wearing a loud, garishly colorful ensemble, and he said, "Nice outfit. Looks like Walt Disney threw up."
What's everyone giving up for Lent? I think I'll give up taking public transportation.
First, in the ongoing madness of search keywords, here's the latest and strangest of the strange:
my panties lyrics
Funny, I never knew there was a song called "My Panties." Perhaps it goes something like this? (sung to the tune of "My Bonnie"):
My panties are grabbed by the waistband,
My panties are down to my knees,
My panties are pooled 'round my ankles,
Oh, pull up my panties for me!
Pull up, pull up,
Pull up my panties for me, for me
Pull up, pull up,
Oh, pull up my panties for meeeeee!
Thank you. I have ruined yet another song. :-)
Yesterday, I did the bus-and-train sojourn downtown to see the periodontist, who is monitoring my gum recession. Good news -- in six months, there's been no change, which means I don't need to have surgery. We agreed he'll check me every six months and keep an eye on things.
Thank goodness it's only every six months. I don't know how people deal with daily commutes on public transportation. On the way downtown, the woman seated behind me had a wet, dripping, horrible cold, and I had to listen to a rattling, phlegmy sniffle every minute or so. For God's sake -- haven't you heard of Kleenex? I wanted to reach into my purse, withdraw my pocket pack of tissues and fling it over my shoulder. Blow your @#$%ing nose!!
But that was nothing compared to the ride home. Fortunately, I have a good photographic memory and I can relay a lot of detail. Still, nothing compares to the actual sight before my eyes, stepping onto the bus and sitting down across from me.
I don't know how old she was -- maybe early to mid 20s. Doesn't matter. It's what she wore that burned into my retinas.
A baby-doll dress, white with blue and gold paisley print and adorned with blue sequins. It barely came down to her thighs, so underneath it she wore -- wait for it -- multiple layers of starched, ruffled lavender petticoats. It would have looked ridiculous had she been thin, but unfortunately, the image was worsened by the fact that she was quite overweight.
But wait, there's more. On her feet were rainbow-colored, tie-dyed sneakers and light blue bobby socks. On each wrist, several dime-store bangles (plastic, rhinestones, macrame). She had a large multi-colored clip in her hair, shaped like a butterfly. And she wore large headphones. OK, nothing strange about headphones, right? But these weren't just any headphones. They were covered with purple and pink heart-shaped rhinestones.
Topping off the ensemble? A turquoise Tinkerbell backpack.
I tried not to stare. But it was like the proverbial car wreck.
I'm reminded of a line I heard many years ago -- I can't remember who it was, but this performer (a comic, I think) was talking to a woman wearing a loud, garishly colorful ensemble, and he said, "Nice outfit. Looks like Walt Disney threw up."
What's everyone giving up for Lent? I think I'll give up taking public transportation.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Deja Vu all over again
The Valentine's Day corset, revisited! ST was able to exchange the small for a medium, no problem. Oh, and he found something out while he was back at Frederick's. Turns out the corset unhooks after all.
No, not in the front, which was where I searched for hooks. But all down one side, hidden in the seam, are hook-and-eyes. Last week's epic struggles to get me into that thing weren't necessary. Oops.
(blushing) See, told you I'm unsophisticated about corsets.
So this one I was able to get into myself, although I did enlist ST's help in hooking it and then tying up the back. And it fit perfectly!
He watched while I pulled on the stockings and buckled my shoes, snapping candid photos. He likes to do that. And I end up deleting most of them, because I don't like how I look. However, every now and then, one comes out pretty well, I think:
A little something for the legs and feet folks. :-D
Of course we had to take one from the back, just so you could see how much better this one fit:
Enough of that. We had to get down to business.
I've been in a different place the last few sessions; a quieter version of myself. Hard to believe, I know. But I haven't really felt like bantering or sassing as much, not once we get past warmup. Not sure why; I just want to feel. To get lost in sensation; hear nothing but my own breathing, my own moans, the cracks of his hand and the implements.
I don't remember what he did, or in what order. I don't care. I just know I went someplace with him and I didn't want to come back. It took me a very long time to open my eyes and lift my head.
He was patient. He was in no hurry either.
Eventually I returned, and he hunkered down next to me on the chair. We listened to the music playing. My favorite local radio station has been airing a special program for the past week or so: a selection of 2000 songs from their library, played in alphabetical order, no repeats. Tonight, they were well into the S's and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" by Pink Floyd was playing.
I like to try guessing what comes next. Sometimes I'm spot on, but I couldn't come up with the next song to save my life. Or my ass, as it happened. Because ST said if I couldn't guess the next song, he'd spank me all through it. Aggggghhhh!
Shine? Shining? Shirt? Shiver? Perhaps no more songs with Shi, but one with Sho? I was blanking. As the song wound to a close, he kept prompting me, "You'd better come up with something! It's almost over!" But it was no use.
Then the opening chords of the next song began, and I cussed mightily. DAMMIT! "Shiny Happy People" by REM. I hate that stupid song. No wonder I couldn't think of it.
I hate it even more, now. :-( Never realized how @#$%ing long it is.
However, I was able to come up with the song after that. Yay me!
It was "Ship of Fools" by the Doors, by the way. Yes, I'm easily entertained.
When ST was leaving, I thanked him once again for the beautiful corset, saying it was very generous of him. He leered at me, his eyes leisurely wandering from shoulder to hip. "I didn't buy it for you," he smirked.
Oh, yes you did, darlin'. You bought it for both of us. :-)
Hope everyone had Presidents' Day off!
No, not in the front, which was where I searched for hooks. But all down one side, hidden in the seam, are hook-and-eyes. Last week's epic struggles to get me into that thing weren't necessary. Oops.
(blushing) See, told you I'm unsophisticated about corsets.
So this one I was able to get into myself, although I did enlist ST's help in hooking it and then tying up the back. And it fit perfectly!
He watched while I pulled on the stockings and buckled my shoes, snapping candid photos. He likes to do that. And I end up deleting most of them, because I don't like how I look. However, every now and then, one comes out pretty well, I think:
A little something for the legs and feet folks. :-D
Of course we had to take one from the back, just so you could see how much better this one fit:
Enough of that. We had to get down to business.
I've been in a different place the last few sessions; a quieter version of myself. Hard to believe, I know. But I haven't really felt like bantering or sassing as much, not once we get past warmup. Not sure why; I just want to feel. To get lost in sensation; hear nothing but my own breathing, my own moans, the cracks of his hand and the implements.
I don't remember what he did, or in what order. I don't care. I just know I went someplace with him and I didn't want to come back. It took me a very long time to open my eyes and lift my head.
He was patient. He was in no hurry either.
Eventually I returned, and he hunkered down next to me on the chair. We listened to the music playing. My favorite local radio station has been airing a special program for the past week or so: a selection of 2000 songs from their library, played in alphabetical order, no repeats. Tonight, they were well into the S's and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" by Pink Floyd was playing.
I like to try guessing what comes next. Sometimes I'm spot on, but I couldn't come up with the next song to save my life. Or my ass, as it happened. Because ST said if I couldn't guess the next song, he'd spank me all through it. Aggggghhhh!
Shine? Shining? Shirt? Shiver? Perhaps no more songs with Shi, but one with Sho? I was blanking. As the song wound to a close, he kept prompting me, "You'd better come up with something! It's almost over!" But it was no use.
Then the opening chords of the next song began, and I cussed mightily. DAMMIT! "Shiny Happy People" by REM. I hate that stupid song. No wonder I couldn't think of it.
I hate it even more, now. :-( Never realized how @#$%ing long it is.
However, I was able to come up with the song after that. Yay me!
It was "Ship of Fools" by the Doors, by the way. Yes, I'm easily entertained.
When ST was leaving, I thanked him once again for the beautiful corset, saying it was very generous of him. He leered at me, his eyes leisurely wandering from shoulder to hip. "I didn't buy it for you," he smirked.
Oh, yes you did, darlin'. You bought it for both of us. :-)
Hope everyone had Presidents' Day off!
Sunday, February 19, 2012
New E-book: The Spanking Hand Book
A few months ago, several of us writers/bloggers were approached by a publishing company called Instructing Eve, based in Australia. They were requesting contributions to an e-book about spanking and listed several topics we could cover. I believe they ended up with 16 of us, and the result of our collaboration is now available for purchase!
If I try to list some of the other contributors, I will certainly omit someone and that would be inappropriate. So I'll just say I'm in good company, and the book is packed with fun stuff -- short stories, tips and tricks, and very cute illustrations. My contribution? A list of tongue-in-cheek tips entitled "What NOT to Say to Your Spanker." Rather than go for the smart-ass remarks and comebacks we all know and love, I endeavored to come up with some originals, all of which I've used myself, of course. :-)
The Instructing Eve folks sent all kinds of goodies, including pictures and banners. I posted one of the banners on the right-hand side, directly underneath my two books. If you click on it, it takes you directly to the ordering page.
Or, you can just click here. Just $5.95, y'all. Cheap!
In other news: John and I were finally able to pull off our Valentine's Day weekend. His knee is still swelling every time he's on his feet for any length of time, but he's been icing it and taking anti-inflammatories, so I guess we just have to wait it out. Regardless, he said he was fine with going out for our special dinner.
I surprised him by getting completely dressed up -- form-fitting LBD, stockings and heels, and even a cute new pair of boy-short panties with a pattern of red and pink hearts on a black background. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom as I put on makeup, gawking at me. "Um, sweetie? Let me make sure I'm clear on this," he quipped. "Does this mean I have to wear long pants?"
"Correct," I smiled. The man lives in shorts on the weekends, no matter how cold it is. And Teva sandals. "Does that mean shoes and socks, too?" "Correct," I repeated. As if he didn't know. And may I say that when he was dressed, he looked damned handsome. :-)
I'd given him a card, a heart-shaped balloon and a case of these, his absolute favorite chocolate bar (hard to find, so he's always excited when he gets some). John had already sent me roses and hidden a one-pound box of See's in my car, so I figured that was plenty, along with our lovely dinner. However, he had other plans.
We ordered, and he left to go use the restroom. After he returned, we chatted until our server brought our plates. I looked very happily at my fettuccini with grilled vegetables and tomato-herb sauce and picked up my fork, then jumped as the server appeared again at my elbow. "And something special for the lady," he said, placing a wrapped package by my plate. John burst out laughing when he saw my shocked reaction. Turns out he hadn't gone to the restroom after all; he just snuck over to the server and asked him to help with the surprise.
I love that man.
I was a big grown-up girl, though. I didn't open my present until we were both finished with our meals. Another beautiful vintage watch to add to my collection, and one I recognized. When we'd gone to have his watch serviced a few months ago, I'd admired it in the jewelry case.
Did I mention that I love that man?
Dinner was perfection, and then we drove to a nearby coffee house, also a favorite. I've mentioned it before -- the one with the fabulous cakes, including our obsession, German chocolate cake. Luck was with us that night and they had some left, so we shared a gigantic slab of it.
John and I couldn't take our eyes off each other. I felt like I did when we first started dating. To watch us last night, you'd never know we've been together 15 1/2 years.
But of course, we're not kids anymore. When we got home, John put his foot up on an ottoman piled high with pillows, wrapped an ice-pack and Ace bandage around his knee, and promptly fell asleep. I snuggled against him, watched Saturday Night Live and ate three pieces of See's chocolate.
Wouldn't have it any other way. ♥
If I try to list some of the other contributors, I will certainly omit someone and that would be inappropriate. So I'll just say I'm in good company, and the book is packed with fun stuff -- short stories, tips and tricks, and very cute illustrations. My contribution? A list of tongue-in-cheek tips entitled "What NOT to Say to Your Spanker." Rather than go for the smart-ass remarks and comebacks we all know and love, I endeavored to come up with some originals, all of which I've used myself, of course. :-)
The Instructing Eve folks sent all kinds of goodies, including pictures and banners. I posted one of the banners on the right-hand side, directly underneath my two books. If you click on it, it takes you directly to the ordering page.
Or, you can just click here. Just $5.95, y'all. Cheap!
In other news: John and I were finally able to pull off our Valentine's Day weekend. His knee is still swelling every time he's on his feet for any length of time, but he's been icing it and taking anti-inflammatories, so I guess we just have to wait it out. Regardless, he said he was fine with going out for our special dinner.
I surprised him by getting completely dressed up -- form-fitting LBD, stockings and heels, and even a cute new pair of boy-short panties with a pattern of red and pink hearts on a black background. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom as I put on makeup, gawking at me. "Um, sweetie? Let me make sure I'm clear on this," he quipped. "Does this mean I have to wear long pants?"
"Correct," I smiled. The man lives in shorts on the weekends, no matter how cold it is. And Teva sandals. "Does that mean shoes and socks, too?" "Correct," I repeated. As if he didn't know. And may I say that when he was dressed, he looked damned handsome. :-)
I'd given him a card, a heart-shaped balloon and a case of these, his absolute favorite chocolate bar (hard to find, so he's always excited when he gets some). John had already sent me roses and hidden a one-pound box of See's in my car, so I figured that was plenty, along with our lovely dinner. However, he had other plans.
We ordered, and he left to go use the restroom. After he returned, we chatted until our server brought our plates. I looked very happily at my fettuccini with grilled vegetables and tomato-herb sauce and picked up my fork, then jumped as the server appeared again at my elbow. "And something special for the lady," he said, placing a wrapped package by my plate. John burst out laughing when he saw my shocked reaction. Turns out he hadn't gone to the restroom after all; he just snuck over to the server and asked him to help with the surprise.
I love that man.
I was a big grown-up girl, though. I didn't open my present until we were both finished with our meals. Another beautiful vintage watch to add to my collection, and one I recognized. When we'd gone to have his watch serviced a few months ago, I'd admired it in the jewelry case.
Did I mention that I love that man?
Dinner was perfection, and then we drove to a nearby coffee house, also a favorite. I've mentioned it before -- the one with the fabulous cakes, including our obsession, German chocolate cake. Luck was with us that night and they had some left, so we shared a gigantic slab of it.
John and I couldn't take our eyes off each other. I felt like I did when we first started dating. To watch us last night, you'd never know we've been together 15 1/2 years.
But of course, we're not kids anymore. When we got home, John put his foot up on an ottoman piled high with pillows, wrapped an ice-pack and Ace bandage around his knee, and promptly fell asleep. I snuggled against him, watched Saturday Night Live and ate three pieces of See's chocolate.
Wouldn't have it any other way. ♥
Friday, February 17, 2012
Correspondence Hall of Shame, 2/17
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Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Welcome a new Clips4Sale store...
..."Tubaman" Paul! :-) Go see!
When I shot with Paul and Sarah Gregory last year, some of the clips were for Sarah's site, and others were for Paul's new site, Spanking 101. He has been shooting a lot of content over the past year-and-a-half or so, with several women, and he just launched this clip store. For now, there are 10 clips up, with lots more to come.
I'm thrilled to pieces to have one of mine among the first 10! It's a short but very hard spanking; Paul and I play husband and wife, and we have a fight after coming home from a business dinner. He tells me I behaved like a "horse's ass" and I throw a hairbrush at him. Aaaaand you can pretty much figure out what he does with it.
I had no idea this clip was up until a friend wrote to tell me he'd downloaded it. His first word, and I quote -- "Yikes!" :-)
Please do check out this clips store and support Paul -- he and Sarah have done great work!
When I shot with Paul and Sarah Gregory last year, some of the clips were for Sarah's site, and others were for Paul's new site, Spanking 101. He has been shooting a lot of content over the past year-and-a-half or so, with several women, and he just launched this clip store. For now, there are 10 clips up, with lots more to come.
I'm thrilled to pieces to have one of mine among the first 10! It's a short but very hard spanking; Paul and I play husband and wife, and we have a fight after coming home from a business dinner. He tells me I behaved like a "horse's ass" and I throw a hairbrush at him. Aaaaand you can pretty much figure out what he does with it.
I had no idea this clip was up until a friend wrote to tell me he'd downloaded it. His first word, and I quote -- "Yikes!" :-)
Please do check out this clips store and support Paul -- he and Sarah have done great work!
Monday, February 13, 2012
Happy (almost) Valentine's Day ♥
So why does a cynical curmudgeon like me love Valentine's Day, you ask? Simple. It's that Late Bloomer thing again. Many, many Valentine's Days spent alone when I was young, gorging myself on See's Candy and crying. Hating all the damned ads and commercials, all the pretty displays in the malls. Feeling like Charlie Brown. ("I know nobody loves me; why do we have to have Valentine's Day to emphasize it?")
Then I met John... and I've loved Valentine's Day ever since. :-) Yeah, I know it's commercial. I don't care.
My sweetie is still sick and injured, but he sent me roses -- a whole week early! He figured I'd be more surprised that way, and I was. I'm hoping we can celebrate this coming weekend, if he feels better.
But in the meantime, I had a lovely time tonight with my toppy Valentine, ST. He had quite the nice surprise for me as well.
After he arrived and sat down, he pulled over his toy bag and started unzipping it. Hmmm; guess we're going to skip the small talk, huh? But then he said, "Well, what have we here?" and he pulled out a bright red Frederick's of Hollywood shopping bag. !!!!
I love Frederick's. VS is nice, but I like Frederick's so much more. Looking inside the bag, I first noticed a package of black thigh-high stockings, fishnet, with a seam up the back and lace tops. Gorgeous! There was also something bundled in black tissue paper, which I eagerly opened. Ohhhh, my. It was a red-and-black lace corset, with black spaghetti straps and garters attached.
I've never had a corset, so this was another first for the late bloomer. I've tried them on, but I never would let John buy me one, protesting that they're too expensive. I'd make jokes, saying I enjoyed breathing. But this was exquisite. Came with a little matching g-string, too. The kind of thing I'd ooh and aah at dreamily in a store window, but would never buy for myself.
We did have a little comedy of errors getting me into my new outfit, however. Too bad we didn't film it; it was pretty hilarious. This corset has the usual lacing up the back, but unlike some others, it doesn't open in the front. So the only way to get it on was over my head. Unfortunately, it was a size small. I'm flattered, but it was too small. I may be thin, but I'm tall and I have wide shoulders. So, the wrestling began. I was determined to wear it tonight anyway.
ST loosened the lacing as much as possible, and then I pulled it over my head. I stood with my arms straight up while ST yanked and pulled, but it wouldn't budge. He managed to get it loosened just a bit more, then tugged down on it, tugging and tugging (and cracking me up with his grunting noises) until finally it went down past my shoulders and over my torso. Then he tightened the lacing. There was a several-inch gap when it was pulled as tight as he could get it, but it still looked spectacular.
And then the fishnet stockings! Those fit perfectly, and I recruited ST to snap the garters in place for me (those were rather uncooperative and took several attempts). But at last, I slipped on some heels, and voila:
Isn't it lovely? That was worth the work to get it on me! I feared I wouldn't be able to get it back off, but we put that aside for the time being. After all, we had other things to do.
We kept it simple tonight, implement-wise. Of course, we had to use the heart-shaped paddle that he made for me last Valentine's Day. He also wanted to draw hearts on my bottom with eyeliner or a Sharpie and then fill them in with reddened flesh, but I nixed that idea. (insert eye-roll here) Along with the paddle, just a couple of his straps plus the leather spanking buddy. No canes tonight. And mostly OTK, although I took a fair amount of strapping while bending over/kneeling on the bed.
You know why he was spanking me? Because I was wearing naughty clothes. "You bought me those naughty clothes!" I protested. "Yes, but you didn't have to wear them! I was just testing you!" Oh, brother.
Not much banter tonight, once I settled down and stopped giggling. I felt sexy and sensual and my body relished every stroke deeply. I went so far into subspace, he didn't even ask me to count the final flurry. He knew I wouldn't be able to.
Bliss. ♥
Of course, once we wound down and had uploaded the photos from his camera, it was time for Operation Remove Corset. It was actually a little easier than it had been getting it on; he loosened the ties, had me raise my arms over my head and then he yanked upward. Yank-yank-yank, and then it gave way and popped off. He's going to take it back and exchange it for a medium. (OK, so I wore it a couple of hours. Sue me. :-Þ I was freshly showered!)
I had a little heart-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates for him, which I gave him as he was leaving. Sweets for a very sweet man.
To everyone who celebrates it, happy Valentine's Day. For those who would just as soon bypass it, happy Tuesday. I'm going to spend my afternoon squirming in the dentist's chair, and making him wonder why I'm smiling. :-)
Then I met John... and I've loved Valentine's Day ever since. :-) Yeah, I know it's commercial. I don't care.
My sweetie is still sick and injured, but he sent me roses -- a whole week early! He figured I'd be more surprised that way, and I was. I'm hoping we can celebrate this coming weekend, if he feels better.
But in the meantime, I had a lovely time tonight with my toppy Valentine, ST. He had quite the nice surprise for me as well.
After he arrived and sat down, he pulled over his toy bag and started unzipping it. Hmmm; guess we're going to skip the small talk, huh? But then he said, "Well, what have we here?" and he pulled out a bright red Frederick's of Hollywood shopping bag. !!!!
I love Frederick's. VS is nice, but I like Frederick's so much more. Looking inside the bag, I first noticed a package of black thigh-high stockings, fishnet, with a seam up the back and lace tops. Gorgeous! There was also something bundled in black tissue paper, which I eagerly opened. Ohhhh, my. It was a red-and-black lace corset, with black spaghetti straps and garters attached.
I've never had a corset, so this was another first for the late bloomer. I've tried them on, but I never would let John buy me one, protesting that they're too expensive. I'd make jokes, saying I enjoyed breathing. But this was exquisite. Came with a little matching g-string, too. The kind of thing I'd ooh and aah at dreamily in a store window, but would never buy for myself.
We did have a little comedy of errors getting me into my new outfit, however. Too bad we didn't film it; it was pretty hilarious. This corset has the usual lacing up the back, but unlike some others, it doesn't open in the front. So the only way to get it on was over my head. Unfortunately, it was a size small. I'm flattered, but it was too small. I may be thin, but I'm tall and I have wide shoulders. So, the wrestling began. I was determined to wear it tonight anyway.
ST loosened the lacing as much as possible, and then I pulled it over my head. I stood with my arms straight up while ST yanked and pulled, but it wouldn't budge. He managed to get it loosened just a bit more, then tugged down on it, tugging and tugging (and cracking me up with his grunting noises) until finally it went down past my shoulders and over my torso. Then he tightened the lacing. There was a several-inch gap when it was pulled as tight as he could get it, but it still looked spectacular.
And then the fishnet stockings! Those fit perfectly, and I recruited ST to snap the garters in place for me (those were rather uncooperative and took several attempts). But at last, I slipped on some heels, and voila:
Isn't it lovely? That was worth the work to get it on me! I feared I wouldn't be able to get it back off, but we put that aside for the time being. After all, we had other things to do.
We kept it simple tonight, implement-wise. Of course, we had to use the heart-shaped paddle that he made for me last Valentine's Day. He also wanted to draw hearts on my bottom with eyeliner or a Sharpie and then fill them in with reddened flesh, but I nixed that idea. (insert eye-roll here) Along with the paddle, just a couple of his straps plus the leather spanking buddy. No canes tonight. And mostly OTK, although I took a fair amount of strapping while bending over/kneeling on the bed.
You know why he was spanking me? Because I was wearing naughty clothes. "You bought me those naughty clothes!" I protested. "Yes, but you didn't have to wear them! I was just testing you!" Oh, brother.
Not much banter tonight, once I settled down and stopped giggling. I felt sexy and sensual and my body relished every stroke deeply. I went so far into subspace, he didn't even ask me to count the final flurry. He knew I wouldn't be able to.
Bliss. ♥
Of course, once we wound down and had uploaded the photos from his camera, it was time for Operation Remove Corset. It was actually a little easier than it had been getting it on; he loosened the ties, had me raise my arms over my head and then he yanked upward. Yank-yank-yank, and then it gave way and popped off. He's going to take it back and exchange it for a medium. (OK, so I wore it a couple of hours. Sue me. :-Þ I was freshly showered!)
I had a little heart-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates for him, which I gave him as he was leaving. Sweets for a very sweet man.
To everyone who celebrates it, happy Valentine's Day. For those who would just as soon bypass it, happy Tuesday. I'm going to spend my afternoon squirming in the dentist's chair, and making him wonder why I'm smiling. :-)
Friday, February 10, 2012
Our first blogs
Because I can't come up with anything original today, I am shamelessly ripping off my friend Secret Spanko, who just wrote a fun entry about first blog posts. He did some thorough research, looking back at several people's first blog entries and commenting on the various types. I found it fascinating and thought I'd pick up the ball and continue with it here.
Among others, he mentioned my first entry here on Blogger, in which I was -- what else? -- bitching about something! This time, it was about how effed up MySpace was and why I moved my blog from there. However, he hadn't seen my very first blog post from MySpace. Just for grins, I dug it up. It's rather boring, but here it is in all its glory, from December 28, 2005:
Introduction
Current mood: bored
I guess I have to start somewhere with this thing, huh? OK, what do you want to know? How about some random stuff.
I work from my home as a freelance proofreader. So I'm a nut for grammar and spelling. Right now, because of the freaking holidays, my business is dead... hence the bored mood.
I pride myself on my sense of humor and my quick wit. My father was a comedy writer and won five Emmys, so I like to think I inherited his funny genes.
Guilty pleasures: Hostess Sno-Balls (you know, those revolting things with the bright pink coconut and the marshmallow), old surf instrumentals, watching Dark Shadows DVDs (the original show, not that crappy remake).
Things I love: my boyfriend, animals, milk chocolate, good books and movies, intelligence and humor, rainy days, the Beatles, and a lot of other stuff I'll think of later.
Things I hate: hot days, mornings, cottage cheese, tailgaters, tardiness, cell phone overuse, big noisy crowds, rap and hip-hop, the Capital One commercials with David Spade and that dorky fat guy, reality TV, and a lot of other stuff I'll think of later.
What else... oh yeah. I'm a big OTK enthusiast, very much in the national spanking scene, and I've been in eight spanking videos. Ooooh, am I allowed to say that here?
I guess that's enough for now. Happy hump day, everyone.
Don't you love how I downplayed the spanking bit? It was MySpace, after all. I wasn't sure how much I could talk about it. :-D The one thing I miss from the MySpace blog format is the nifty little "current mood" indicator. Oh, and their built-in emoticons.
How about some others digging up their first blogs? We could make a meme out of it!
In other news, we had some more misadventures on FetLife this week, another flame war centered around our favorite malcontent, droning on and on once again about her thinly veiled contempt for the "pros." It got ugly. It got snarky. And today, she finally erupted, bypassing her usual passive-aggressive approach and blasting us, calling us "pissy, petty, narrow-minded bitches" and "pathetic attention whores," and saying that no one in the spanking video industry would ever be welcome at one of her parties. Oh, dear. Pardon me while I hang myself over that one. :-)
John and I were planning to celebrate Valentine's Day this weekend, but that is now on hold. Besides his relentlessly swelling knee, he caught a cold when he went to the HMO last week and hung around several sick people in the waiting room. (sigh) I will never hear the end of that! Anyway, we decided there's no point in doing anything special when he is feeling so wretched, so we'll do it the following weekend instead. It's OK. It's just a calendar date. As he pointed out, we're each other's Valentines year-round. ♥
Have a great weekend, y'all.
Among others, he mentioned my first entry here on Blogger, in which I was -- what else? -- bitching about something! This time, it was about how effed up MySpace was and why I moved my blog from there. However, he hadn't seen my very first blog post from MySpace. Just for grins, I dug it up. It's rather boring, but here it is in all its glory, from December 28, 2005:
Introduction
Current mood: bored
I guess I have to start somewhere with this thing, huh? OK, what do you want to know? How about some random stuff.
I work from my home as a freelance proofreader. So I'm a nut for grammar and spelling. Right now, because of the freaking holidays, my business is dead... hence the bored mood.
I pride myself on my sense of humor and my quick wit. My father was a comedy writer and won five Emmys, so I like to think I inherited his funny genes.
Guilty pleasures: Hostess Sno-Balls (you know, those revolting things with the bright pink coconut and the marshmallow), old surf instrumentals, watching Dark Shadows DVDs (the original show, not that crappy remake).
Things I love: my boyfriend, animals, milk chocolate, good books and movies, intelligence and humor, rainy days, the Beatles, and a lot of other stuff I'll think of later.
Things I hate: hot days, mornings, cottage cheese, tailgaters, tardiness, cell phone overuse, big noisy crowds, rap and hip-hop, the Capital One commercials with David Spade and that dorky fat guy, reality TV, and a lot of other stuff I'll think of later.
What else... oh yeah. I'm a big OTK enthusiast, very much in the national spanking scene, and I've been in eight spanking videos. Ooooh, am I allowed to say that here?
I guess that's enough for now. Happy hump day, everyone.
Don't you love how I downplayed the spanking bit? It was MySpace, after all. I wasn't sure how much I could talk about it. :-D The one thing I miss from the MySpace blog format is the nifty little "current mood" indicator. Oh, and their built-in emoticons.
How about some others digging up their first blogs? We could make a meme out of it!
In other news, we had some more misadventures on FetLife this week, another flame war centered around our favorite malcontent, droning on and on once again about her thinly veiled contempt for the "pros." It got ugly. It got snarky. And today, she finally erupted, bypassing her usual passive-aggressive approach and blasting us, calling us "pissy, petty, narrow-minded bitches" and "pathetic attention whores," and saying that no one in the spanking video industry would ever be welcome at one of her parties. Oh, dear. Pardon me while I hang myself over that one. :-)
John and I were planning to celebrate Valentine's Day this weekend, but that is now on hold. Besides his relentlessly swelling knee, he caught a cold when he went to the HMO last week and hung around several sick people in the waiting room. (sigh) I will never hear the end of that! Anyway, we decided there's no point in doing anything special when he is feeling so wretched, so we'll do it the following weekend instead. It's OK. It's just a calendar date. As he pointed out, we're each other's Valentines year-round. ♥
Have a great weekend, y'all.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Wednesday musings
My mind is off in a dozen directions today, so this blog may be a bit disjointed. I will attempt to weed out the blather and put down some coherent thoughts.
First, I read something just this morning (a quote from a book) that kind of irked me. I am not going to name the book or the author, because I don't wish to appear that I'm going on a personal attack here. It's the idea behind what I read that bothers me, not the book itself or its author.
The book is for women, and the subject is how to deal with a husband or boyfriend who has a sexual fetish. I haven't read it; I just saw some excerpts, but even in those, the message I got was clear: it's our responsibility to embrace these fetishes and fulfill the desires, if we love our men.
Here is a paragraph that particularly bothered me:
You have a choice: your husband or boyfriend can either be alone with his sexual fetish or you can learn to be the one who fulfills his every sexual need. Choose to reject and you will have a husband or boyfriend who will be secretive and stray. Choose to join in and you'll have a husband or boyfriend who will be loyal and appreciative.
Is it just me, or is this overly black-and-white? A one-size-fits-all statement? I know from personal experience that this isn't necessarily true for all. But what about the hundreds of women out there who will read this and feel like they have to do something that they don't understand/mildly dislike/hate/etc. in order to please their man?
There are a gazillion fetishes out there, and some are more easily fulfilled than others. The author, with this statement, is completely bypassing the third alternative: let your man get his fetish needs met elsewhere, with your blessing.
Of course, the ideal is to learn to fulfill the fetish desires yourself, so your man can stay home and be happy. But life and relationships seldom run along the ideal continuum. I don't think it's healthy to send a message that mates (male or female) have to adapt to a partner's fetish and fulfill it, if it goes against their grain. OK, you can experiment with ropes and blindfolds, with a bit of light spanking, etc. But what about the more hard-core fetishes?
I love John with all my heart. But he likes having things done to him that I couldn't do in my dreams. Am I a bad girlfriend because I haven't forced myself to do these things? Is he secretive and miserable? Yeah, yeah, I hear you guys out there. "Not all of us find playing with others outside the relationship acceptable." OK. But if it's such a selfish thing to be unable to fulfill your partner's fetish, isn't it also selfish to not consider allowing them to fulfill it elsewhere? If someone won't do either, then that makes things a bit non-negotiable. But there is that third choice, and I don't think it shouldn't be ignored in an instructional manual for couples.
Maybe I'm taking this a bit too personally, because it hits close to home. What do you guys think?
EDIT: I do realize this is one lone paragraph, taken out of context. However, some of the surrounding copy seemed similar. And while I take issue with this particular concept, I'm not taking issue with the author. This person is well known and experienced. This is just my gut reaction to the concept that a mate should be expected to embrace and participate in his/her partner's fetish.
In other news, I spent 5 1/2 hours with my former stepmother S yesterday. We talked and talked and talked, about everything imaginable. My parents. Her parents. Her marriage to my father. Her first husband, who just recently passed away. Show business (more Six Degrees of Hollywood: her ex-husband's son is one of the directors of The Big Bang Theory, my favorite sitcom). Politics. Euthanasia (we are both staunch believers in it). She had two adorable little dogs (terrier mixes), both rescues, who scrambled all over me, brought me their toys and covered me with kisses.
A random memory I have from when my dad and S were married: They had a set of four sterling silver wine goblets, which they used every night. The glasses had some initials engraved at the bottom. When they split up, S took two of the glasses and left Dad the other two. I asked him what the initials stood for, but he refused to tell me. Soon after that, he got rid of his pair, because Vampira didn't want him keeping anything that had to do with S. (rolling eyes)
Anyway, I mentioned these glasses to S last night, and she said she still had them! After all these years... I was surprised. She found them in the wet bar area -- they were tarnished, but still beautiful. Finally found out what the initials stood for -- I thought it was God knows what, the way my dad acted about it, but it turned out to be rather sweet. Then she said, "Would you like to have them?"
Oh. Would I. Kind of silly, I suppose. I don't drink wine, and the initials on the glasses are from another time, another love. But I cherish them anyway.
As we said goodbye, she hugged and kissed me and said, "I love you." I blurted, "I just adore you, and I'm so grateful you're in my life." I am, truly.
Once home, I found a silver-polishing cloth and spent several minutes buffing the tarnish off the glasses. They are gorgeous; elegant and classy.
Much like S. My beautiful stepmother, still lovely at nearly 81.
First, I read something just this morning (a quote from a book) that kind of irked me. I am not going to name the book or the author, because I don't wish to appear that I'm going on a personal attack here. It's the idea behind what I read that bothers me, not the book itself or its author.
The book is for women, and the subject is how to deal with a husband or boyfriend who has a sexual fetish. I haven't read it; I just saw some excerpts, but even in those, the message I got was clear: it's our responsibility to embrace these fetishes and fulfill the desires, if we love our men.
Here is a paragraph that particularly bothered me:
You have a choice: your husband or boyfriend can either be alone with his sexual fetish or you can learn to be the one who fulfills his every sexual need. Choose to reject and you will have a husband or boyfriend who will be secretive and stray. Choose to join in and you'll have a husband or boyfriend who will be loyal and appreciative.
Is it just me, or is this overly black-and-white? A one-size-fits-all statement? I know from personal experience that this isn't necessarily true for all. But what about the hundreds of women out there who will read this and feel like they have to do something that they don't understand/mildly dislike/hate/etc. in order to please their man?
There are a gazillion fetishes out there, and some are more easily fulfilled than others. The author, with this statement, is completely bypassing the third alternative: let your man get his fetish needs met elsewhere, with your blessing.
Of course, the ideal is to learn to fulfill the fetish desires yourself, so your man can stay home and be happy. But life and relationships seldom run along the ideal continuum. I don't think it's healthy to send a message that mates (male or female) have to adapt to a partner's fetish and fulfill it, if it goes against their grain. OK, you can experiment with ropes and blindfolds, with a bit of light spanking, etc. But what about the more hard-core fetishes?
I love John with all my heart. But he likes having things done to him that I couldn't do in my dreams. Am I a bad girlfriend because I haven't forced myself to do these things? Is he secretive and miserable? Yeah, yeah, I hear you guys out there. "Not all of us find playing with others outside the relationship acceptable." OK. But if it's such a selfish thing to be unable to fulfill your partner's fetish, isn't it also selfish to not consider allowing them to fulfill it elsewhere? If someone won't do either, then that makes things a bit non-negotiable. But there is that third choice, and I don't think it shouldn't be ignored in an instructional manual for couples.
Maybe I'm taking this a bit too personally, because it hits close to home. What do you guys think?
EDIT: I do realize this is one lone paragraph, taken out of context. However, some of the surrounding copy seemed similar. And while I take issue with this particular concept, I'm not taking issue with the author. This person is well known and experienced. This is just my gut reaction to the concept that a mate should be expected to embrace and participate in his/her partner's fetish.
In other news, I spent 5 1/2 hours with my former stepmother S yesterday. We talked and talked and talked, about everything imaginable. My parents. Her parents. Her marriage to my father. Her first husband, who just recently passed away. Show business (more Six Degrees of Hollywood: her ex-husband's son is one of the directors of The Big Bang Theory, my favorite sitcom). Politics. Euthanasia (we are both staunch believers in it). She had two adorable little dogs (terrier mixes), both rescues, who scrambled all over me, brought me their toys and covered me with kisses.
A random memory I have from when my dad and S were married: They had a set of four sterling silver wine goblets, which they used every night. The glasses had some initials engraved at the bottom. When they split up, S took two of the glasses and left Dad the other two. I asked him what the initials stood for, but he refused to tell me. Soon after that, he got rid of his pair, because Vampira didn't want him keeping anything that had to do with S. (rolling eyes)
Anyway, I mentioned these glasses to S last night, and she said she still had them! After all these years... I was surprised. She found them in the wet bar area -- they were tarnished, but still beautiful. Finally found out what the initials stood for -- I thought it was God knows what, the way my dad acted about it, but it turned out to be rather sweet. Then she said, "Would you like to have them?"
Oh. Would I. Kind of silly, I suppose. I don't drink wine, and the initials on the glasses are from another time, another love. But I cherish them anyway.
As we said goodbye, she hugged and kissed me and said, "I love you." I blurted, "I just adore you, and I'm so grateful you're in my life." I am, truly.
Once home, I found a silver-polishing cloth and spent several minutes buffing the tarnish off the glasses. They are gorgeous; elegant and classy.
Much like S. My beautiful stepmother, still lovely at nearly 81.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Takin' it for Cane-iac!
Recently, the good folks at Cane-iac wrote and asked if they could send me a few new things, so I could test and review them. Naturally, I said yes, without even asking what was coming my way.
Their package arrived late last week, and I opened it to find the Pink Stripe Rubber Loop Set (two sizes: 12" and 18") and the Lexan Paddle OTK, a 12" paddle sized perfectly for over-the-knee.
(gulp) Rubber? Lexan? I hadn't experienced Lexan before, and I'd heard it described in many colorful ways, from mild (it's not very forgiving) to strong (it sucks). But I was determined to be a brave spokesperson and put myself in ST's capable hands with thesebeasts beauties. After all, I do believe in this company and their product.
So tonight when ST arrived, I showed him the new toys (and watched his eyes light up, the sadist), and we talked about how we'd handle the testing. I remembered the last time I'd done a demo with their implements, ST had given me a nice long warmup, and as a result, I didn't get lasting color or any marks. Bravely I suggested that perhaps we should forego the warmup and go straight to the new implements. His eyes lit up even more and his grin was positively diabolical. Of course HE thought that was a good idea.
Off to the bedroom we went. I tried taking a "before" picture, holding all three implements, but as it turned out, they didn't show up well against my sweater:
So we did this type of before picture instead:
We decided to do 20 strokes of each toy per round, taking pictures in between.
He began with the Jr. (12") rubber loop, which is a great OTK toy. Without a warmup, the first round with the implements hurt like crazy, but I could still get a clear sense of how each one felt. The rubber loops were very snappy, more of a sting than a thud (which I like), and the loud CRACK they made was impressive. After 20 each of both the Jr. and the Sr. (18"), ST picked up the Lexan paddle.
Perhaps it's a good thing we weren't filming. Upon my first taste of Lexan, I used some language that would have been inappropriate for Cane-iac's site. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
Once I acclimated a bit, I realized it had a feel that's unlike leather or wood. It's not as thuddy as wood, even though it's more solid and firm than leather. It has a very crisp sting and a bite upon impact (this particular one is 1/4" thick). Cane-iac's Lexan paddle is well made, with smooth, rounded edges and a non-slip vinyl handle. ST wanted me to mention that it felt very good to him (rolling eyes) and it was easy to use.
Here I am after two rounds of 20 with all three (120 strokes total):
We're just getting started!
Time for another position -- instead of on the bed, now it was bent over a chair. By now, I was quite warm and that sweater had to go.
Third set of 20 with all three -- bit more color now. And I was stamping and fussing a lot more.
(Big thanks to Zelle for Photoshopping the damn tag out of my bra! ♥)
But wait, there's more! All three of these toys could be used OTK, even the 18" loop. So over his lap I went.
We stopped counted the sets of 20; he just whaled away at this point. ST takes his product testing duties very seriously.
After three positions and countless strokes, I'd say we'd done a good test, and all three implements passed, even the Lexan. Once I was warmed up, I sorta kinda didn't completely hate it. OK, I loved to hate it. Or I hated to love it. Something like that.
So now I have three new additions to my collection, and I would recommend these to anyone who wants something different from the usual. The prices are excellent, and you cannot beat Cane-iac's customer service or quality of craftsmanship.
My one caveat about the rubber loops? I would say exercise caution about using them anywhere you're concerned about noise, because they do make a distinctive and loud snap. But as I always say, if your neighbors don't hear an accompanying shriek, they can't say for sure what you're doing. So make sure you stifle your reactions with a pillow or bedspread and you should be fine.
Oh... did you think we were done?
Hell, no. I had to retrieve the rest of my Cane-iac arsenal.
I was so sore after all those, he even let me rub:
However, despite it all, I couldn't stop giggling. I tried to tell him it was hysteria, but he didn't buy it. I pushed him a bit too far with this pose -- you can't see it very clearly, but I have my middle finger stuck through the loop:
OK, OK! I'm sorry! Sheeesh... Some people have no sense of humor.
By the way, I broke my Junior rattan cane. I would have taken a picture of it, but we couldn't find the piece that flew off. Honest to god, we searched all over the bed, on the carpet, under the bed -- that damn thing just disappeared. Knowing me, I'll find it with my bare foot eventually.
Even without a warmup, I didn't mark. Scary. But ye gods, I'm sore. Happily so, though. I needed this tonight.
(Right, Erica. When do you not need it??)
Thank you, Cane-iac. And thank you, ST, Testing Partner Extraordinaire. :-)
Their package arrived late last week, and I opened it to find the Pink Stripe Rubber Loop Set (two sizes: 12" and 18") and the Lexan Paddle OTK, a 12" paddle sized perfectly for over-the-knee.
(gulp) Rubber? Lexan? I hadn't experienced Lexan before, and I'd heard it described in many colorful ways, from mild (it's not very forgiving) to strong (it sucks). But I was determined to be a brave spokesperson and put myself in ST's capable hands with these
So tonight when ST arrived, I showed him the new toys (and watched his eyes light up, the sadist), and we talked about how we'd handle the testing. I remembered the last time I'd done a demo with their implements, ST had given me a nice long warmup, and as a result, I didn't get lasting color or any marks. Bravely I suggested that perhaps we should forego the warmup and go straight to the new implements. His eyes lit up even more and his grin was positively diabolical. Of course HE thought that was a good idea.
Off to the bedroom we went. I tried taking a "before" picture, holding all three implements, but as it turned out, they didn't show up well against my sweater:
So we did this type of before picture instead:
We decided to do 20 strokes of each toy per round, taking pictures in between.
He began with the Jr. (12") rubber loop, which is a great OTK toy. Without a warmup, the first round with the implements hurt like crazy, but I could still get a clear sense of how each one felt. The rubber loops were very snappy, more of a sting than a thud (which I like), and the loud CRACK they made was impressive. After 20 each of both the Jr. and the Sr. (18"), ST picked up the Lexan paddle.
Perhaps it's a good thing we weren't filming. Upon my first taste of Lexan, I used some language that would have been inappropriate for Cane-iac's site. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
Once I acclimated a bit, I realized it had a feel that's unlike leather or wood. It's not as thuddy as wood, even though it's more solid and firm than leather. It has a very crisp sting and a bite upon impact (this particular one is 1/4" thick). Cane-iac's Lexan paddle is well made, with smooth, rounded edges and a non-slip vinyl handle. ST wanted me to mention that it felt very good to him (rolling eyes) and it was easy to use.
Here I am after two rounds of 20 with all three (120 strokes total):
We're just getting started!
Time for another position -- instead of on the bed, now it was bent over a chair. By now, I was quite warm and that sweater had to go.
Third set of 20 with all three -- bit more color now. And I was stamping and fussing a lot more.
(Big thanks to Zelle for Photoshopping the damn tag out of my bra! ♥)
But wait, there's more! All three of these toys could be used OTK, even the 18" loop. So over his lap I went.
We stopped counted the sets of 20; he just whaled away at this point. ST takes his product testing duties very seriously.
After three positions and countless strokes, I'd say we'd done a good test, and all three implements passed, even the Lexan. Once I was warmed up, I sorta kinda didn't completely hate it. OK, I loved to hate it. Or I hated to love it. Something like that.
So now I have three new additions to my collection, and I would recommend these to anyone who wants something different from the usual. The prices are excellent, and you cannot beat Cane-iac's customer service or quality of craftsmanship.
My one caveat about the rubber loops? I would say exercise caution about using them anywhere you're concerned about noise, because they do make a distinctive and loud snap. But as I always say, if your neighbors don't hear an accompanying shriek, they can't say for sure what you're doing. So make sure you stifle your reactions with a pillow or bedspread and you should be fine.
Oh... did you think we were done?
Hell, no. I had to retrieve the rest of my Cane-iac arsenal.
I was so sore after all those, he even let me rub:
However, despite it all, I couldn't stop giggling. I tried to tell him it was hysteria, but he didn't buy it. I pushed him a bit too far with this pose -- you can't see it very clearly, but I have my middle finger stuck through the loop:
OK, OK! I'm sorry! Sheeesh... Some people have no sense of humor.
By the way, I broke my Junior rattan cane. I would have taken a picture of it, but we couldn't find the piece that flew off. Honest to god, we searched all over the bed, on the carpet, under the bed -- that damn thing just disappeared. Knowing me, I'll find it with my bare foot eventually.
Even without a warmup, I didn't mark. Scary. But ye gods, I'm sore. Happily so, though. I needed this tonight.
(Right, Erica. When do you not need it??)
Thank you, Cane-iac. And thank you, ST, Testing Partner Extraordinaire. :-)
Friday, February 3, 2012
"Stop calling me 'ma'am,' you jackass!"
That, ladies and gentlemen, was the line that sealed my fate in the latest clip on Spanking Court. I was happily surprised to see Clip #5 up so soon after #4. One more to go...
This is the one where the Judge oversaw my punishment and I broke down in tears on camera. Watching it yesterday made me squirm!
I think I was wiping my eyes or my nose or whatever in this shot. Look how heavy that paddle is. But I'd earned it.
Some excellent news! For those who would rather not join the Spanking Court official site, they have just opened a Clips4Sale store! For now, there are just a few of the early videos, but they will be adding new ones in succession and I assume their full library will up on there eventually. Very cool!
In other news, it's a great Friday. Not only did I get Chrossed (and congrats to all the others as well), but my beloved finally went to the doctor this morning. His knee hasn't been getting any better and it's been two weeks.
He's improving, folks. Last year, it took him five weeks to go to a doctor when he was sick, with some rather dire consequences, as you may recall. This year, it only took him two. (sigh) I've never met anyone so averse to seeing doctors in my life.
Or to taking anything. I had suggested he take Advil for the inflammation, but he refused. He iced it every day, but that's all he would do for it.
So, double good news. First, nothing is broken. Second, the doctor told him to take Advil, every day, for the inflammation. Yes, you stubborn man, love of my life, I told you so. (Don't worry, I didn't actually say that to him.)
Happy kitty, purr purr purr! (Any Big Bang Theory fans among us?) Have a great weekend, y'all.
This is the one where the Judge oversaw my punishment and I broke down in tears on camera. Watching it yesterday made me squirm!
I think I was wiping my eyes or my nose or whatever in this shot. Look how heavy that paddle is. But I'd earned it.
Some excellent news! For those who would rather not join the Spanking Court official site, they have just opened a Clips4Sale store! For now, there are just a few of the early videos, but they will be adding new ones in succession and I assume their full library will up on there eventually. Very cool!
In other news, it's a great Friday. Not only did I get Chrossed (and congrats to all the others as well), but my beloved finally went to the doctor this morning. His knee hasn't been getting any better and it's been two weeks.
He's improving, folks. Last year, it took him five weeks to go to a doctor when he was sick, with some rather dire consequences, as you may recall. This year, it only took him two. (sigh) I've never met anyone so averse to seeing doctors in my life.
Or to taking anything. I had suggested he take Advil for the inflammation, but he refused. He iced it every day, but that's all he would do for it.
So, double good news. First, nothing is broken. Second, the doctor told him to take Advil, every day, for the inflammation. Yes, you stubborn man, love of my life, I told you so. (Don't worry, I didn't actually say that to him.)
Happy kitty, purr purr purr! (Any Big Bang Theory fans among us?) Have a great weekend, y'all.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Odds and ends not in my book, part 7
The Bar Mitzvah Story
Most of you know that a Bar Mitzvah is a Jewish coming-of-age ritual for 13-year-old boys. A similar ritual for girls is the Bat Mitzvah, but when I was growing up, they were far less common. I'd been to several in my formative years -- my brother, a couple of cousins, some friends. To be blunt, in general, they are all a crashing bore. They go on and on, and the only reason you endure them is you get to go to a fun party afterward with dancing and catering at some posh ballroom.
Anyone who has read me for a while knows I have a cousin famous in the TV industry. Because he married a younger woman late in life, he has young kids. About 10 years ago, his son was Bar Mitzvah'd. John and I went, along with my mom and stepdad.
The ceremony itself was the usual protracted yawnfest. Celebrity's child or no celebrity's child, the ritual was the same, with endless readings, getting up and down (for whatever reason, they keep having you stand up for certain readings -- perhaps it's so your legs won't go to sleep), singing, Hebrew passages, yada yada yada. John and I were squirming in our seats.
Of course, there were Hollywood touches. At one point, the boy read a poem that had been written for him. OK, that's nice; any kid can have a poem written for him, I guess. But this particular poem was written by renowned author Maya Angelou. And signed, "Auntie Maya."
Whatever. By the time it was over, we fairly ran out of that shul (temple). Once outside, a few feet from the doors, John grabbed me, pulled me to him and laid a huge kiss on me.
"I saw that!"
We turned to see who'd called that out -- it was Carl Reiner.
OK, for those who don't know the name, Carl Reiner is one of the few people from vintage TV who is still with us (he'll be 90 in March). He is an actor, writer and director, and his TV career spans from Your Show of Shows (with Sid Caesar) in the 1950s, to the Dick Van Dyke show in the 60s (he played Rob Petrie's boss Alan Brady) all the way to the present, playing Betty White's love interest on Hot in Cleveland. He did The 2,000 Year Old Man with Mel Brooks. He's won nine Emmys and one Grammy (for comedy album). His son is Rob Reiner, who played Mike on All in the Family. Oh, and his wife Estelle delivered one of the most well-known lines in movie history -- "I'll have what she's having" from When Harry met Sally. You can read more about him here.
Anyway, so here we are with this TV icon mock-glaring at us. I laughed and said, "Wanna see it again?" "Sure!" he said.
So John and I went at it again. Carl then shot his hands up in the air dramatically and blurted, "No tongue! You're in front of a shul!!"
Later, when he came over to say hello to my mother, he nodded toward us and asked who the "kissing fools" were. Too funny.
The long-awaited reception was held at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, or was it the Beverly Hills Hotel? One of those Beverlys. Once there, we mingled among throngs of people and enjoyed huge shrimp and baby lamb chops (and those were just the appetizers). There was also a full sit-down dinner, with entertainment.
Often at a Bar Mitzvah, "entertainment" consists of a cheesy band playing old standards for the adults and elevator versions of rock tunes for the kiddies. Not this time. This Bar Mitzvah had a stand-up comedian.
Was it Uncle Morty, fortified with a couple of belts of Manischewitz, telling the old chestnuts about how a Jew, a Catholic and a Protestant meet in a bar?
Nah. It was Lewis Black.
I don't remember whether or not he downplayed his usual angry, epithet-laced style of delivery. I'm thinking not. What a night.
I've been thinking about Hollywood stuff this week, after seeing an obituary in the news on Monday. Another one of my father's peers, a director of comedy TV shows. I'd met him several times when I was a kid. He and my dad had an extra connection besides show biz, though. My dad's second wife, S? (not Vampira; this was the nice, pretty one, the dancer). She was this director's first wife, before she met my dad. It's a small world.
I dropped her a note to express my condolences (she did have a child with him, after all). I haven't seen her in over a year, but we're having lunch next Tuesday. I look forward to that; I just adore that woman. She's 80 now; I hope she'll stick around for a while.
She knows nothing about Erica Scott. Sometimes, I wish I could tell her, share my deepest secret with her. She's known me since I was eight. But I can't, and I won't. I doubt anything would faze her, as she's seen and heard it all. But it's still TMI.
Hope everyone's having a good week so far. :-)
Most of you know that a Bar Mitzvah is a Jewish coming-of-age ritual for 13-year-old boys. A similar ritual for girls is the Bat Mitzvah, but when I was growing up, they were far less common. I'd been to several in my formative years -- my brother, a couple of cousins, some friends. To be blunt, in general, they are all a crashing bore. They go on and on, and the only reason you endure them is you get to go to a fun party afterward with dancing and catering at some posh ballroom.
Anyone who has read me for a while knows I have a cousin famous in the TV industry. Because he married a younger woman late in life, he has young kids. About 10 years ago, his son was Bar Mitzvah'd. John and I went, along with my mom and stepdad.
The ceremony itself was the usual protracted yawnfest. Celebrity's child or no celebrity's child, the ritual was the same, with endless readings, getting up and down (for whatever reason, they keep having you stand up for certain readings -- perhaps it's so your legs won't go to sleep), singing, Hebrew passages, yada yada yada. John and I were squirming in our seats.
Of course, there were Hollywood touches. At one point, the boy read a poem that had been written for him. OK, that's nice; any kid can have a poem written for him, I guess. But this particular poem was written by renowned author Maya Angelou. And signed, "Auntie Maya."
Whatever. By the time it was over, we fairly ran out of that shul (temple). Once outside, a few feet from the doors, John grabbed me, pulled me to him and laid a huge kiss on me.
"I saw that!"
We turned to see who'd called that out -- it was Carl Reiner.
OK, for those who don't know the name, Carl Reiner is one of the few people from vintage TV who is still with us (he'll be 90 in March). He is an actor, writer and director, and his TV career spans from Your Show of Shows (with Sid Caesar) in the 1950s, to the Dick Van Dyke show in the 60s (he played Rob Petrie's boss Alan Brady) all the way to the present, playing Betty White's love interest on Hot in Cleveland. He did The 2,000 Year Old Man with Mel Brooks. He's won nine Emmys and one Grammy (for comedy album). His son is Rob Reiner, who played Mike on All in the Family. Oh, and his wife Estelle delivered one of the most well-known lines in movie history -- "I'll have what she's having" from When Harry met Sally. You can read more about him here.
Anyway, so here we are with this TV icon mock-glaring at us. I laughed and said, "Wanna see it again?" "Sure!" he said.
So John and I went at it again. Carl then shot his hands up in the air dramatically and blurted, "No tongue! You're in front of a shul!!"
Later, when he came over to say hello to my mother, he nodded toward us and asked who the "kissing fools" were. Too funny.
The long-awaited reception was held at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, or was it the Beverly Hills Hotel? One of those Beverlys. Once there, we mingled among throngs of people and enjoyed huge shrimp and baby lamb chops (and those were just the appetizers). There was also a full sit-down dinner, with entertainment.
Often at a Bar Mitzvah, "entertainment" consists of a cheesy band playing old standards for the adults and elevator versions of rock tunes for the kiddies. Not this time. This Bar Mitzvah had a stand-up comedian.
Was it Uncle Morty, fortified with a couple of belts of Manischewitz, telling the old chestnuts about how a Jew, a Catholic and a Protestant meet in a bar?
Nah. It was Lewis Black.
I don't remember whether or not he downplayed his usual angry, epithet-laced style of delivery. I'm thinking not. What a night.
I've been thinking about Hollywood stuff this week, after seeing an obituary in the news on Monday. Another one of my father's peers, a director of comedy TV shows. I'd met him several times when I was a kid. He and my dad had an extra connection besides show biz, though. My dad's second wife, S? (not Vampira; this was the nice, pretty one, the dancer). She was this director's first wife, before she met my dad. It's a small world.
I dropped her a note to express my condolences (she did have a child with him, after all). I haven't seen her in over a year, but we're having lunch next Tuesday. I look forward to that; I just adore that woman. She's 80 now; I hope she'll stick around for a while.
She knows nothing about Erica Scott. Sometimes, I wish I could tell her, share my deepest secret with her. She's known me since I was eight. But I can't, and I won't. I doubt anything would faze her, as she's seen and heard it all. But it's still TMI.
Hope everyone's having a good week so far. :-)
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