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. ♥

"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.

How much does one share?

We live in the age of social media, of anything and everything being fodder for the Internet, for the tabloids, for blogs. People post their deepest, darkest secrets, their pain, their joy, their Achilles heels. They play out their lives, all grossness intact, on reality TV. So what are the rules, if any? How much is too much? When does sharing encroach upon TMI? When does it violate another person's privacy?

I am very open about my life, and I also find writing to be a therapeutic tool. When I blog about my life and my struggles, it makes me feel more connected and less alone to know that others are reading and relating. But sometimes, my struggles involve other people, and then I have a dilemma. If I don't write, I don't feel like I'm being true to my blog or to my readers. But if I do, I feel like I'm running the risk of saying too much about another. I am very discreet and I never reveal things over which I've been sworn to secrecy. Still, I hesitate over many entries sometimes, and end up scrapping them, even though they are things I desperately want to talk about, get a broad variety of viewpoints.

You all know I love John dearly. However, like all couples, we have our struggles. I've made no secret of the fact that we both play with other people because we cannot fulfill each other's fetish fantasies. I cannot top him, and while he can top me, I can't take him seriously. I'm too close to him.

So he plays with femdoms and I play with male tops. I have a distinct advantage: I have a flexible schedule during the week and I can meet with ST or other tops I've known on my own time without impacting my time with John. Unfortunately, John cannot say the same. He works 12-15-hour days during the week and the only play time he has is on weekends. The time we spend together. So whenever a femdom comes into his life, it impacts us, sometimes a great deal.

John does not play with pro doms. It would be easier if he did; then he could set the time and date, have his sessions, get his needs met. But he doesn't want that level of control. Part of his need is for the domme to have complete control, so he doesn't play with scheduled pro tops. He really doesn't play, period. He enters into service with lifestyle dommes. The ones who expect their subs to be at their beck and call. And he gets consumed. I watch his usual logic and reason and priorities go *poof*.

Because of how I play, I am able to completely compartmentalize and schedule what I do. John cannot. So whenever a femdom comes into his life, it's very disruptive.

Pro dommes, while they may be strict, play hard, etc., ultimately do what their clients wish them to do. They are in a business of fulfilling fantasies. Not so the lifestylers; not with John's and my experience, anyway. They want what they want when they want it. And part of John's desire is to give it, without limits. It's pure submission. If he hooks up with someone sane and reasonable, it's not a problem. However... there are a lot of extreme femdoms out there. It's not just male tops who can be dangerous, kids. There are some John has been with who have scared me half to death. He'd tell me stories about things they'd done to their slaves and I'd feel sick with fear when he went off to scene with them. The best female tops love men, just like the best male tops love women. But I have seen more men-hating femdoms than I care to think about.

Long story short? It's starting again; he's met a new one. The last one was so bad, she nearly broke us up. He says this one isn't crazy. For one thing, she knows all about me. That's an improvement; in the past, he's denied my existence to these women, claiming himself single and unencumbered. He says he has to; that if he tells them he has a girlfriend, they'll dismiss him. The last one actually came to his house and went through his trash, searching for evidence of a woman's presence. So who knows. Maybe this one will be different.

But after over 15 years of bad experiences, I'm skeptical. The old fears kick in. No, he won't leave me for a femdom. He loves me. But when he's enthralled with a domme, he becomes a man I don't know.

I don't want to go into the details of his relations with femdoms and the specifics of things that have happened over the years. Because then I think I'm crossing the line into his life. Which brings me back to my original dilemma... I don't know how much to share. I want to talk about what's going on with me and how I'm feeling about it, but I know I must stop at some point before it becomes TMI about John. Even this post feels like too much, and yet I'm sending it. Because it's something that's looming very large in my mind and I need to talk about it.

Not easy.

Please don't worry; the relationship is good. John has his weaknesses like any other (including me, heaven knows), but he is one of the best people I know. Today, when we went to brunch and we were at the register paying, he glanced over and saw a grizzled older man sitting by himself eating. He had an oxygen tank sitting on the booth next to him and tubes going up his nose. John handed the cashier a $20 and asked her to please use it to pay for the man's lunch.

I can't stay upset with a man like that.

I guess time will tell. I need patience and flexibility, and I don't have either one of those in abundance. Oh hell, I don't have either one of those at all. But somehow, I need to find them. Or learn how to fake them.

I want him to be happy. I want him to have the same fulfillment I do.

Thanks for listening.

Spanking Court weekend

Yesterday, I went once again to Spanking Court, this time to wrap up the story line of my seeking spanking therapy as an aid to depression. As y'all know if you've been following along, my initial goal sort of morphed into a battle of wills with the Court Disciplinarian, which culminated in a showdown with the Judge last time.

I figured since the scenes I did last month were a turning point, this last time would bring it all back around and I would come clean, explain why I got so far off the rails and apologize to the Court. Then I would request of the Judge that he let me have one final session with the Disciplinarian, so I could apologize to him as well.

So, that's what I presented to the Judge, and he granted me the final session, saying it would be good for both of us to have some closure. Once the court scene was shot, it was time for me to get into the scrubs and face my nemesis, who was waiting for me in the sentencing room, his eyes shooting darts at me.

My apology was sincere. I told him I'd specifically requested one more session not just so that I could tell him in person that I was sorry, but so he could have his moment of payback, as it were. He could choose the implement(s), the positioning, say and do whatever he wanted, as much as he wanted, and I would take it gracefully and without any of my former defiance or rudeness. "I'm all yours," I said.

So what did the Court Disciplinarian decide to do to me, for my final punishment and to settle the score between us? I'm not telling. :-)

Come on. Did you really think I was going to give away all the details? I will tell you that we shot a great scene, fun and real and deliciously intense. You'll just have to wait and see!

This story line ended up being six separate scenes. So far, two of them are up on the site, and I believe Cali said the third one will be up this week or next. Plus, I asked her if she would please send me pictures, so I can share some of them.

Oh, and she and Heinz are putting a limited amount of my books on sale at their "Paddles and Panties" site! I autographed them all and they'll promote them. These people are so good to me. :-)

After we wrapped my scene, I got dressed, but didn't leave for a while, opting instead to hang out with them in the conference room while they waited for their next "defendant" to show up. I didn't want to go! Once she arrived and had her makeup on, though, it was time for me to head out. They all hugged me in turn: Heinz, Cali, Dana and V. "We love you!" Dana said as she hugged me, and I damn near lost it. But I managed to keep myself together until I'd left the building and got to my car, where I started to bawl.

I will see them again. Can't go into the details of this either, but they will be shooting additional types of content next year and they'll hopefully work me into that. But it's going to be a while. And certainly won't be a regular monthly gig again. I'll miss that; it's been a great joy.

John was so sweet. He insisted on taking me to one of our favorite restaurants, lavished attention on me. Made me laugh with all his silliness. And you'll be happy to know that today, our brunch was completely undisrupted and everyone surrounding us was adult. Hallelujah.

I'm not seeing ST tomorrow, but I will see him Tuesday. It's for the best, I think. I'm sore. ;-)

Hope everyone had a nice weekend. Stay tuned; I'll put up some SC pictures when I get them.

Odds & Ends not in my book, Part 4

A favorite John story, which really should have been in the book. I confess, I completely forgot about it.

For those who have already read the book, you may recall I mentioned a couple that John and I befriended in our early scene days -- I referred to them as A & C. But I didn't explain how we met them.

In the late '90s (before Erica Scott was born), John and I used to go to a lot of local BDSM parties, including a regular gathering at a private house. This house was set far back from the street, behind a parking lot that was empty at night, so it was perfect for guest parking. People could play inside the house, or in the garage, which the owner had fashioned into a dungeon.

I was still fairly new to all this and even then, I knew I wasn't much of a fit in these BDSM gatherings, but I did the best I could. John would help -- he'd scope out the crowd with me, ask if I saw anyone I thought I might like to play with. If I was too shy to approach someone (and I usually was), he would do it for me.

One Saturday night, the party was particularly crowded, and one man stood out above the rest -- literally. He was very tall, with dark hair and eyes, wearing all black, and my "oh my God, who is that" radar went off. So when John sidled over to me and said, "See anyone you like?", I pointed right at the aforementioned gentleman and answered, "Yeah. Him. I want him."

John looked over, then snorted. "Oh, you would pick him!" he laughed. "No way! You'd go home with him!" Then he took my arm and led me out of the room and into the garage. There, we found one of our friends and started chatting, and I temporarily forgot about the handsome stranger.

"I'm going to get a Diet Coke," John announced. "You want anything?" I said no thanks; he told our friend to keep an eye on me, and he made his way through the crowded dungeon out the door. A few minutes later, he came back in with a glass of soda and rejoined us.

I was feeling a bit restless, wanting to play, and my eyes wandered. I watched people coming in and out, and then -- (gulp). I saw Mr. Handsome walk in. He stood near the doorway, looking around the room... and then he looked right at me. And didn't look away -- his eyes held mine.

Breathe, Erica. Oxygen is your friend.

Not only did he not break eye contact, but he smiled. And started walking toward me. Slowly.

It's just a coincidence. There are a lot of people here; he's coming over to talk to someone else. Get a grip.

And then there he was, right in front of me. "Hi," he said. "Are you Erica?"

Does this dungeon come equipped with a defibrillator?? "Yes," I croaked.

"I'm A," he said, extending his hand. I shook it, but he didn't let go. Instead, he gripped it more firmly, then leaned down to whisper to me, his breath tickling my ear. "And I hear you need a really good spanking."

John, of course, was sitting right there, observing with great amusement. "JOHN!" I blurted. "What did you do??" He just gave me a wide-eyed innocent look, and A laughed. "Come with me," he said, pulling me to my feet.

Was the spanking scene hot? Of course it was. But that build-up was one of the best I'd ever experienced. It couldn't have been a more perfect surprise. I was beaming and giddy for the rest of the night.

I heard the story later. John had gone back into the house, gotten his drink and then found A, introducing himself. "Look," he said. "I know this is going to sound weird, but go with me for a second. Do you spank?" A said yes. "My girlfriend really wants to play with you. Would you mind?"

A hesitated -- kind of on the spot there, right? I mean, he didn't know me, he didn't know what he was signing on for. John hastened to assure him. "I think you'll like her," he said, "but you don't have to commit to anything. She's in the garage talking with a friend of ours; go check her out first." He then went on to describe me and what I was wearing. So A said sure, why not.

What a sport, huh? :-D

As it turned out, A was there with his own girlfriend C, and the four of us hit it off immediately. We were friends for years, before the two of them dropped out of the local scene. Last I heard, they had relocated in Europe. I have so many fond memories of the two of them. A and I went on to have many more scenes together.

See, now you guys get even more why I love John so much. It takes a very special man to pimp out his girlfriend to handsome strangers for a spanking. But of course, I still went home with John. Always did, always will. ♥

Tension Be-Gone

If spanking's stress-release properties could be bottled as a drug, that could be its commercial name. I almost always want spanking, but sometimes, I really, really, really freaking NEED it. Crave it soul-deep. Tonight was one of those times.

I love John, truly I do. His family? Notsomuch, as most of you know by now. Are they rude to me? No, they're perfectly pleasant to me, most of the time. It's John they aren't so nice to. He's always been the picked-on one in the family -- first because he was the youngest, and then later simply because he's different from them. (and thank God for that)

But oh, when they need something? An able body to help move things? Or, more often, money? Then he's Johnny the Cash Cow! And what drives me absolutely spitting insane is that no matter what they ask of him, he does it. He has this blind familial loyalty, and they don't deserve it.

So when he told me that his eldest sister wanted to meet with him Sunday morning, my first thought was, "What does she want?" And sure enough... "We need to talk about Mom." Their 84-year-old mother still lives in her own apartment, with the siblings taking turns visiting, taking her out, etc., and some hired help coming during the week to do things for her. But she's getting too addled to live on her own.

One plan was for John's brother, sister-in-law and nephew to take her in. However, they'd need a bigger house. And that's where John comes in, of course. To chip in his healthy share of the down payment, because he makes more money than the other three. Mom has a good chunk of liquid cash, but not enough.

"I'll have equity in the house," he said. "You already have a house," I pointed out. "You don't need their damn equity." Yeah, he makes good money. But he's going to need that money, for when he has to retire early and have open heart surgery. And I guaran-damn-tee none of his family will be around when HE's in need.

So, I was pissed, I admit it. I get so frustrated at his willingness to always help people who aren't particularly nice to him. Blood, shmud. I hate seeing him taken advantage of. Whenever one of his sisters says something snarky about him to me, I silently grit my teeth. "We think you're a saint for putting up with him." Well, I think he's the saint for living with you guys all those years and not putting arsenic in your Wheaties.

And where exactly will this new house be? If John's sister has her way, it will be right near HER, for her convenience. However, John's mom now lives five minutes from John, and it's easy for us to pick her up each Saturday for lunch. When she's farther away, are we still going to have to take her out every damn week? I'm not all that crazy about it now. I don't see my own mother, for God's sake. And when I did, it was once every couple of months, not every week. Yeah, I know. Stop borrowing trouble.

But I was tense about it yesterday, and to my chagrin, found I was still angry about it today. By the time ST got here, I was ready to ask him, "Please, be extra dominant tonight. I need it." But instead, I just came right out and told him I was in a MOOD, and why. And I spared no expletives or unpleasant rhetoric. Yes, I can be a right bitch sometimes.

Did I get a sympathetic ear?? Noooooooooooooooo! OK, OK, maybe at first. But then he said I needed a damn good spanking for being so crabby and saying those things. "That's not fair!" I snapped. "I didn't say this stuff to John! I'm saying it to you! Aren't I allowed to have a confidante?"

"Yes," he said, "and I'm confidante that you're getting a spanking!"

Oh, grooooaaaaan.

Again with the heavy artillery again tonight, not much hand. But it's fine; I wanted it. I kicked and squirmed, but still raised upward for more.

Candid shot he snuck in of my face; what was I doing, biting my knuckle?

He was laying it on me so hard tonight, he actually let me rub. He usually doesn't, the big meanie-face.

The anger flew out of my pores. I made furious sounds, I pounded the bed and glared ferociously at him. He responded by firmly pushing down on the small of my back or gripping my hair. He wasn't going to let me get away with any of my crap, and I wouldn't have wanted him to.

He was giving me exactly what I needed, and he knew it.

See the fist?

He prevailed, of course. As it should be. I calmed down, stopped fighting, absorbed it with deep breaths and focus.

"You need this, don't you? You need it hard and fast, don't you?"

"Yes," I groaned. "Yes, yes, YES!" If anyone had been listening in, they might have thought we were filming porn. But nope... this was therapy. This was sweet relief, in an unorthodox but most effective manner.

A non-candid face shot -- yow. Good thing he's thick-skinned, huh? One might think I hate his guts or something. :-)

Afterward? Wonderfully, blissfully relaxed. I could have fallen asleep snuggled in his arms. Peacefully happy, smiling, practically purring. He came in to a porcupine and left a kitten.

John and I are OK, by the way. He was even joking with me during brunch yesterday. "So, let me make sure we're clear, sweetie," he said, cutting a forkful of his omelet. "The idea of moving you and Mom into my house, so you could take care of her during the week while I'm at work, isn't an option?" I smiled at him and didn't reply. Instead, I picked up my knife and pretended to cut my wrist.

ST, you are the absolute best. Thank you, my confidante. :-)

Well now... what have we here?

Yesterday in my bedroom, I caught sight of something peeking out from underneath the bed. I knelt down to take a look.

Well, looky here. Recognize this?

Not familiar? Hmmm.

Recognize it now?

Thought you might. It's ST's paddle, one he made with his own two hands. Not super-thick/thuddy like the frat style I hate, but it packs a wallop nonetheless.

So. Let's ponder upon how angelic I am. I could have kept quiet about this and let him wonder. Let him discover it's missing but not say a word. Perhaps he dropped it out of his bag somewhere. Perhaps there's been a rash of theft in Encino, a kinky burglary ring stealing spanking implements. Or perhaps I accidentally mistook it for a piece of scrap lumber (you know, those turn up in my bedroom all the time) and tossed it into John's fireplace.

But noooo. I am here admitting to the world that I found it, that I'm keeping it safe for him next Monday. I think I should be rewarded for my honesty. Don't you?

On another topic...

Feeling a bit blech today. Fallout from yesterday, I guess. On the plus side, I had a lovely lunch with Mija at Canter's Deli -- we sat for three hours and yakked away. But on the minus side, I feel like I lost a friend yesterday, due to circumstances completely beyond my control. Scene drama, one I'm not involved in, but a friend is, and I got unintentionally and unwillingly sucked into the vortex.

John said I did nothing wrong. I know, intellectually, that I didn't, but it feels like I did. I hate it when people are angry at me, won't talk to me. It kicks in all those old rejection/abandonment issues that have dogged me since the early days when my mother would punish me by ignoring me and refusing to speak to me. I'd chase after her and cry, begging her to talk to me. Stupid, stupid old crap. But it's real.

The down side of being involved in any community. Wherever there are people, there is drama. This is why I choose solitude so often.

Plus, John had a horrendous day at work yesterday and vented to me. Naturally, I wish I could fix things and make it all better for him, and I can't. I hate that he's so stressed out. But I remembered this morning that this time last year, he was deathly ill, and now, at least he is healthy and robust, albeit exhausted. Perspective. Could be worse.

Days like this, I really do wish I had some work to do. Occupy my nattering brain on something productive.

Sorry for meandering. I will feel better after I go kick some butt at the gym. It's about 100 degrees outside... at least my A/C is working.

Birthday greetings

No ST tonight after all; he didn't feel well. I suppose if I had to skip a Monday with him, it worked out well that it's a Monday after an intense thrashing on Saturday. But I missed him anyway. Feel better soon, sweetie.

Since I can't do a scene writeup, I'm going to take this time to wish a happy birthday to two wonderful men.

First up -- tomorrow, October 4, is Danny Chrighton's birthday. Wish I could see him and give him a big birthday hug and a smooch (and take his birthday spanking). So many fond memories... like here, the two of us being silly:

And of course, I can't let any birthday of his go by without trotting this one back out... :-D

(snickering) Ah, good times. Happy birthday, darlin'. Is there such a thing as a bacon birthday cake?

And the next day, October 5, is none other than my beloved's birthday.

I won't see him until Friday, but we'll celebrate this weekend. Already planning to take him to one of our favorite restaurants and bake him his favorite scratch brownies. :-)  He never lets me buy him presents, so I have to get creative. Attention on him makes John uncomfortable (a trait his girlfriend does not share). One time I had a big bunch of balloons delivered to his office, figuring everyone would see and then make a fuss over him. He told me, "That was so sweet of you, thank you and I love you. Now please, promise me you'll never do that again." (sigh)

When Danny lived here, we'd have a double b-day celebration. Damn, I miss that crazy man.

Who else has an October birthday? (I know at least one other person...)

Love you guys! Enjoy your special days. ♥

Sunday update

It was a nice weekend. John made a big fuss over my book proof -- he said little about the dedication (he's very shy about any attention focused on him, unlike his girlfriend), but I know it pleased him greatly.

He had a surprise for me too!

Aren't they gorgeous? He put his hands over my eyes when I was walking into his living room, and there they were on the dining table. I carefully brought them home tonight. Whatta guy, huh? :-)

OK, so I'm up to page 85 of my final read. So far, I've seen one missing closed quote. If that's the only typo, I will be surprised. But of course, I'm seeing other bits that I want to tweak. I promise, this will be the last time. I promise. Once I do these last-minute tweaks, I will resubmit the proof; they have to approve it again (rolling eyes). And when they do, I am not going to request another proof. I'm going to say "finito" and put it on sale.

After that, I'll have to do some reformatting and so forth to make a version for the Kindle. First things first. Fingers crossed that I'll be able to figure that part out myself. But in the meantime, the paperback version will be available.

I won't be seeing New Guy tomorrow (sniff), but I'll use the found time to get this thing read and fixed already. I'm hoping to have it finalized before the week is out. Then I can celebrate once again with him next Monday. Can't have too much celebrating, can I?

This afternoon, I showed John a couple of the clips from Spanking Court. He watched closely. Too closely. Gave him ideas. Damn that Court Disciplinarian anyway. :-) 

Hope everyone had a nice weekend, particularly you Crimson Moonies in Chicago!

Horrible-izing

That is John's descriptive term for what I do. When there is an uncertain situation, when I don't have all the facts about something and it could go one way or the other, my glass-half-empty mind wanders to the dark side, and I imagine the worst-case scenario. I know I do this, and logically, I know feelings aren't facts and I needn't give in to this. But viscerally, the fear and panic come in and threaten to overwhelm me.

I hate being like this. Damn, I hate it. Because life is seldom without some sort of uncertainty going on. But some uncertainties are easier to live with than others.

This past week, when I spoke with John on the phone both Monday and Tuesday evenings, I thought he sounded odd, more tired than usual. He'd had those days off, since he had some administrative time off he had to use up, so I figured he'd be well rested. He said he'd worn himself out doing yardwork, pruning trees, cleaning his house, etc. OK, that made sense.

Wednesday evening, we didn't speak, because I got home late from the gym and he went to bed early, as he was going back to work on Thursday. So we spoke last night, and he casually dropped some bad news.

I should preface this by saying that John has the best dental hygiene of anyone I've ever known in my life. However, everyone in his family has bad teeth, so he is prone to a lot of dental problems. His teeth crack constantly. He has had several crowns and root canals. He had one tooth pulled about 10 years ago, because of an infection that would not clear up no matter what they did. And every time he has any kind of dental work done, he is at risk, because he's infection-prone. And with his bad heart, infections can be deadly.

Last night, he told me that a tooth had been bothering him, so he went in to have it checked. Things snowballed from there... it could be a lot of things, but they suspect an abscess and possibly a cracked root. If the root is cracked, they'll have to pull the tooth, but if there's an infection, then he has to go through a bunch of expensive rigmarole. Not good.

That alone made me nervous, because when he was so violently ill at the end of last year, it was due to a strep infection, from germs that reside in the mouth. But then he dropped another bombshell. He confessed that he's been feeling lousy all week, and he was going in to his HMO that afternoon to have blood drawn. 

Oh NO, not this again!

I never stop worrying about him. Those months nearly did me in, watching him deteriorate before my eyes, and then taking so long to recover. Even though he has gained back his weight, is exercising again and looks great, he's always tired and it scares me, but we don't talk about it. Each week, I just hope he'll be OK and I make sure he gets lots of rest on the weekends.

But now he may be sick again, and if he needs major dental work done, that will up his risk.

It is mid-afternoon, and I know nothing. He went to work today, and I've been waiting to hear from him for an update, but haven't gotten one. I texted him, but he has not replied. He's seeing the dentist at 4:30 today. I have no idea how long he'll be there. And all day, I have felt free-floating fear.

I went out, trying to distract myself, and ran errands. It just made me feel worse, as it's hot as hell outside and that made me edgier. My apartment is very cool, comfortable and quiet, and I'm sitting here, trying to relax and wait. It's the beginning of the holiday weekend, and everyone is busy doing something or another. I don't want to bother anyone. It's not what I do. When I am scared, my loner nature is stronger than ever and I withdraw.

So I'm writing. I have to get it out somehow. Sorry to be a downer, but it really helps me when I get this crap out in the open.

There is good news in all this. Last time, John was sick for a whopping five weeks before going to the doctor, which nearly killed him (and me, too). At least he learned -- this time, he went to the doctor after just a couple of days of not feeling well. I'm grateful for that. If he does have a bacterial infection going on, they can give him antibiotics, which will help with the tooth situation too.

Anyway. I will update when I know more. Again, I'm sorry to dump. I do hope everyone has a great holiday weekend and you're doing something fun!

Odds and ends

How was everyone's weekend? Looks like we're all still here. :-D

Couple of things on the Interwebs worth mentioning. First, Bonnie Jo called my attention to this: Spanking Court posted a clip on Spanking Tube, called "Behind the Scenes at Spanking Court" It's quick, just 2:44, and it's a fun little montage of bits from the shoots. Sets, makeup, people making faces and being silly. About halfway into it, there's Yours Truly, sprawled on the couch in my orange scrubs, looking dazed and goofy and grinning like an idiot after The Villain's dose of therapy. And Himself is perched on the sofa arm, looking mighty proud of his accomplishment. :-) Check it out!

Also, Lea (of Lea's Corner) recently bought my book of M/F fiction and was kind enough to give it a nice little review here. Thank you, Lea. :-)  I was rereading a few of those stories recently, and I admit that some seem kind of cornball to me now, especially the ones I wrote 10-12 years or so ago. So it's nice to hear people still enjoy them.

So yesterday, John and I shopped all day, ending the afternoon with a trip to Old Town Pasadena so we could buy his coworker a gift certificate from Restoration Hardware (she just bought her first house). We parked several blocks away and plowed through the busy sidewalks with people milling all around us. I had no clue anything was off with John, but when we were done at RH and walking to a nearby restaurant, he confessed that he could feel a migraine coming on. Ugh.

Fortunately, if he gets a massive dose of caffeine into him on time, he's able to ward it off. So we got to the restaurant and sat immediately, and when the server asked us if we wanted drinks, John asked him to please bring a cup of coffee right away. And he did! I was worried, because John had that familiar glassy-eyed look and I could see his face was perspiring, but after he drank the first two cups of coffee, he started to settle back down. By the third cup, he said he was fine and we enjoyed a nice dinner.

After dinner, we were walking back to the car and on the way we passed a park where a concert was playing. We couldn't see the band from the sidewalk, but could hear the music: very loud grunge rock. "Let's go check it out," he said. "Why?" I protested. "You can hear it from here. You don't want to go closer, do you? It might kick your migraine back in." But he insisted he was fine, let's go look.

So we trudged through the grass and onto the path, finally getting to the stage and taking a peek. Up close, it was extremely loud and obnoxious, and we could see that it was four guys, dressed in solid black, all gyrating and screaming and flipping around mass quantities of long hair. They didn't sing particularly well, either.

"This sucks!" John said, taking my hand and leading me away. "You are in so much trouble!"

"Whaaaaaaaaaaa??" I screeched, stumbling along after him. "It was your idea! You wanted to go closer!"

We went down the grassy hill, and as the racket got farther away, he said, "No, it's all your fault, and you are so spanked!" We started to walk past a small bench in the grass and he made an abrupt turn and grabbed my arm. Next thing I knew, he sat on the bench and I went sprawling across his lap. My purse upended and keys, glasses, mints and other paraphernalia scattered.

He just gave me a few whacks and then let me back up... I have no idea if anyone saw or not. I was mortified and excited at the same time. He'd given me slaps on the butt in public before, but never flipped me OTK. And the big idiot gloated and crowed about it all the way home. "You ARE going to blog about this, aren't you?" Yes, dear.

Hey, tomorrow's Monday. It's... oh. Wait. Never mind. :-(

I confess here to a little frustration; when I sent Danny my book a couple of weeks ago, he was quite gung-ho at first, reading the first 70 pages and giving me lots of feedback and good suggestions (more details and shorter paragraphs, for a couple). But then he stopped, and I'm in a holding pattern until he gets back to it. Danny? Sweetheart? Are you reading this? I realize you have a life, but you did volunteer to do this, so could ya please please please? :-)  It would be so nice to have a distraction from missing New Guy, and what better than getting my book edits and finally getting this thing done already. So pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?

OK, I'm off to catch up with FetCrack. Later, kids.

I am well and truly screwed :-)

Several things happened after yesterday's adventure. It seems that I am in big trouble, with both John and New Guy. :-O

First, when I spoke with John last night and told him of my scene after the fact, his reaction was, "You did not have my permission, young lady." Mind you, John hasn't been toppy in months, due to his illness. Plus, he knows I am in very capable hands with NG. So I was quite taken aback when he refused to listen to my wheedling and said we needed to "brush up" on the rules. Oh my. OK, it could be just talk.

And then I received this message from New Guy:

Well, well, well....... Allowing strangers into your apartment. Strangers with names like "The Villain." Strangers you have not properly vetted. This sort of reckless behavior could get you into some serious trouble. I will see you Monday at 5pm.

My heart, which had finally settled down from the afternoon, resumed its banging and leapfrogging. I noticed the earlier hour and asked him if he had the day off. He said yes, because even Cesar Chavez thinks I need a good spanking. Damn... I didn't even know he had his own holiday.

I might as well just kiss my butt goodbye right now.

Oh, but wait. I'm going to need it. Because this morning I heard from Alpine Sierra Studios, the Spanking Court company. They'd seen yesterday's blog, and they are interested. :-) 

Villain posted on my FetLife wall that he was getting emails from my blog, that his hand stings and his girlfriend was giggling at him. I decided to write her a little note to thank her; I don't take it lightly when another woman is OK with her man playing with me, having been seriously burned by jealousy in the past. She wrote me back a lovely reply, saying he was grinning like a Cheshire cat when he came home, that I could count on his coming back, and they'd probably see me in Spanking Court soon (she works for them, too).

My head is exploding.

Stay tuned, folks. I think I'm going to have stories. You know, this week, my blog hits and comments were wayyyy down. Perhaps now they will kick back into gear a bit. :-)

I didn't go to the gym yesterday, so I'm going to work out this afternoon and then head for John's. Last weekend of cloudy weather before we switch things up and head back in the high 70s and low 80s next week. Damn...

Oh, and congratulations to all my fellow Chrosslings today! Have a great weekend, y'all.

Valentine weekend

It's Sunday night and I am back home. Hard for me to believe that it isn't Valentine's Day proper yet, as we've been celebrating it all weekend and my heart is already full to bursting. :-)

I went to John's Friday night, bearing Valentine treats. There were the homemade brownies (and balloon!):

The card with just the right words:

And of course, these:

He presented me with a one-pound satin-heart box of See's chocolate, which is my favorite chocolate on the planet. We happily tore into it later that evening. I still remember all too well the many weeks where I could barely get John to eat a few spoonfuls of soup, so it gave me joy to see him scarfing brownies and chocolate.

Saturday we took his mother to lunch; I was comfortably dressed down in black jeans and a plaid shirt, but underneath I had on my sexy kiss-print panties and a bright red bra. Once we got the filial duties out of the way, the rest of the afternoon and evening was ours. Driving back to John's place, on the winding canyon road, we saw two deer grazing off to the side. There was no one behind us, so we stopped right in the middle of the road and watched them. They didn't get spooked, just looked back at us with those huge eyes. Wish I'd had my camera then! John said he arranged for them to be there, as part of Valentine weekend (sure, honey). And that it was damn hard to get deer to cooperate, because, well, they're deer.

Of course, later, we got pictures. Me, being Ms. Cheesecake:

Then after dressing for dinner, I was sitting on the bed buckling my shoe, and John said, "Don't move!" (He did, however, adjust my skirt, lifting it up higher on my leg... humph!) :-)

He looked quite spiffy himself:

We went to one of our favorite restaurants, a place called the California Canteen. Wonderful food, lovely atmosphere (not too loud!) and great service. Our table was directly beneath this sign:

We were seated at a rounded corner booth, so we could sit together. After we ordered, John told me to close my eyes. ??? Roses, chocolates and this beautiful dinner... there was more?

I love watches. I know that people don't wear them much anymore, now that they have the ubiquitous cell phone with the time handy, but I love to wear them. John got me into vintage collectible watches a few years ago; he's given me several different ones since then. Each one has been unique and goes with different colors/styles. Sure enough, when I opened my eyes, there was a jewelry box in front of me.

The accompanying card read: "You are the best and the most beautiful; you deserve the same."

When I was young, I dreamed of nights like this. I thought they existed only in commercials and fantasy stories. Or perhaps for other people, but never for me.

Damn, but I love this man.

(many thanks to Zelle for "doctoring" this pic for me a bit. John had an obtrusively glaring light over his head.)

After dinner, we went to another favorite place, the Aroma Café, and shared a ginormous piece of German chocolate cake. Stuffed and happy, we headed home. No... no Valentine spanking. His energy level is still low. BUT... he's finally starting to exercise again, which he hasn't felt like doing in months. The itch is still with him sometimes, but it's slowly fading away and he's sleeping better. As for future heart surgery... not going to think about that now. I'm staying in the moment.

And tomorrow, on actual Valentine's Day, I get to have a Valentine-red bottom from New Guy. Am I spoiled all to hell, or what?

Thanks for bearing with my mush, folks. I promise my bitchy, cynical self will return. For now... she's quite overwhelmed.

Hope everyone has a beautiful Valentine's Day. :-)

Happy Friday blathering

It's Friday of what John has been calling "Valentine Week." I know, I know, we're nauseating. But please bear with me. This is the one time a year where I throw my customary cynicism out the window and indulge in sheer romantic mush. Yeah, yeah... it's a date on the calendar, we should be like this all year round and not just one day, it's too commercial, blah blah freaking blah. I don't care. No one's gonna rain on my little giddy parade. :-)

And of course, what's my favorite thing these days about Fridays? Getting Chrossed! My incredible scene with New Guy this week landed me not only on the Chross list, but on PaddleMePink's and Kaelah's blogs as well. Thank you, one and all. When I write about a wonderful experience, I get to relive it... and then when others enjoy, comment on and cite it, I relive it yet again. Such a lovely cycle.

While perusing Chross's choices this week, I ran across something that made me cheer. (Yes, I do get excited over the damndest things.)

You guys have listened to me babble on and on for years about my favorite mainstream spanking scene, the Robert Horton/Susan Oliver spanking in the Wagon Train episode, "The Maggie Hamilton Story." I first saw it on my Cinema Swats VHS tape and I dissolved into a puddle of girl goo, as Danny used to say.

However, much to my frustration, the scene was nowhere to be found in its entirety online. There was a clip of it, but it was severely truncated. Instead of showing the delicious buildup to their confrontation, it started right in the middle of it. And then it cut out abruptly after the spanking, without showing the sweet moments afterward. I could describe the full scene until I was blue in the face, but nothing was like seeing it.

So I was delighted to see that Le Monde De La Fessee found that full clip and has posted it! The blog is in French, but don't pay any mind to that, just look at the pictures and then the video. Susan Oliver is the perfect impossible brat ("If I kill you, it will be your fault!"). And ladies, if you have never seen this clip in its entirety, go, go watch. I guarantee you that the last few seconds alone will make you melt. And while you may never have heard of Robert Horton prior to this, you will have a crush on him forevermore. ("You're going to grow up. All the way. Right now.") Swooooooooooooooooooooooon... McLintock and his stooooopid coal shovel -- Meh! Flint McCullough (Horton's character) is my epitome of a spanking man. :-D

Anyway (fanning myself), on to the weekend. I've already received my Valentine's Day roses... last Tuesday. John likes to send them early, mixing it up, so I'll be surprised. Not red, but peach. And not a dozen, but fifteen. I'm not sure why he chose that number, but this is our 15th Valentine's Day together, so that could be it. It would be very much like him to remember a detail like that.

I have a large Tupperware filled with brownies from scratch, a heart-shaped balloon and a nice card (not too flowery/mushy, just right). And I will bring something pretty to wear tomorrow night when he takes me to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, including some new panties. ;-)

Have a great weekend, y'all.

Up, down, all around

Warning: I don't think this blog is going to be especially entertaining. Certainly not humorous, not sexy, no spanky pictures. Just me, in a strange place tonight.

Need to run something by you guys, a unexpectedly strong reaction I had to a clip I watched. I found it on FetLife, and it was a young woman being punished for texting and driving with a hard strapping/paddling.

I'm not much for harsh punishment videos, really. I'm pretty squeamish. But this one had a looooong string of comments, some of my friends had watched it, and I was curious. Also, I happen to think texting and driving is irresponsible, deplorable, and a whole lot of other -ibles and -ables. As one who has lost a loved one to a car accident, I have zero tolerance for those who treat a multi-ton vehicle like a moving entertainment center. So I figured I'd side with the top on this one.

The video was about 9 1/2 minutes long, but I only made it through a little over six minutes and had to shut it off. My stomach was in knots and I literally felt nauseated. And I felt sick and shook up for a good hour after that.

I know that a lot of people are into true discipline and punishment. I also know that harsh is relative, and what's light to one can be heavy to another and vice versa. Above all, I know this scene was 100% consensual, this woman wanted it, needed it and asked for it. It was real. But I couldn't bear it, even knowing logically that she posted it because she was proud of it and wanted people to see it.

She started to cry practically from the first strap stroke (on a white bottom; no warmup). The crying escalated to sobbing and pleading, then screaming in pain. She put her hands back frequently; he would warn her to move them, and when she didn't, he struck her hands. By the six-minute mark, her butt was trashed. It wasn't just red/purple or marked; dark pools of blood were forming and spreading under the surface of her skin, and I was terrified that the next hard strike would break the skin and send that blood flying in all directions.

I have to say the top's technique was flawless; he clearly knew what he was doing. His aim was perfect, no wrapping, etc. He was focused. But he scolded her throughout, in a loud, angry tone. No, he didn't call her names or anything, but his voice was extremely harsh. Between her screaming and his yelling, I had to turn the sound off. And finally, I just shut it off altogether.

I then read the comments... one after another, they praised the video. "Wow, that was awesome." "Now that's what a punishment should look like." "You deserved that and more." "Poor baby, you won't do that again, will you?" On and on it went; everyone thought it was great. What's wrong with me? What was I missing here? Why was I so utterly horrified?

I wanted to comment that this video was so brutal, I had to stop watching 2/3 of the way through. I wanted to write to this girl, even though I don't know her, and ask if she really was OK. I wanted to wrap her up in a big hug and protect her. Protect her? From what? She consented to it! Of course, I didn't comment and I didn't write to her. I knew I'd be perceived as judgmental and I didn't want to rain on her parade.

I'm not looking for people to tell me that I was right to react the way I did, that it sounds awful, that stuff like that is too much, etc. I don't really want validation here. I would like to understand why I reacted with such horror and revulsion, when I have taken strappings that hard. Was it her screaming and sobbing? Was it the condition of her skin? Was it that the top didn't seem at all regretful that he had to do this, that he was relishing beating her? On the other hand, for all I know, he gave her tender aftercare at the end of the video.

We all have things we don't like to watch. I just wish I knew why my reactions are so extreme. If I had been beaten as a child, I could understand that watching stuff like this could cause a flashback. But I was not.

Very strange and unsettling. Not sure where I'm going with this, but had to express it somewhere, and what better place than my own blog.

Not a good weekend. John has been off the antibiotics for a week now, but apparently they are taking a long time to leave his system. The itching and rash didn't get any better and he had such a bad week, he went back to the doctor on Friday. She gave him prescription-strength allergy meds instead of OTC this time, and a prescription-strength ointment. The meds didn't help much with the itch, but they made him hyper and even more irritable. I spent the whole weekend walking on eggshells, which backfired on me because my skittishness around him just irritated him further. I know he's miserable, I know he doesn't mean it. I tell myself over and over, wait it out, it will pass, he'll feel better soon and then things will be OK again. He'll be nicer. The man I love is still inside that angry, agitated shell.

Then other times, I wonder if it will ever be better. I feel very tired and overwhelmed sometimes. And then of course, I realize, if I'm tired, how tired is he? It's been so @#$%ing long... he first got sick toward the end of September.

Ugh. Double ugh.

Tomorrow is Monday. I will feel better tomorrow. Thank goodness for balance in life, for fun to smooth out the rough times.

Sorry for the drama. Sometimes, things suck a bit.

Thanksgiving thoughts

Happy Turkey Day, everyone. No, I'm not posting a holiday rant. Not yet, anyway. Just having a quiet and reflective morning and wanted to share some thoughts.

Some of you may know this -- Thanksgiving was actually my favorite holiday for many years. No religious overtones, no gifts to buy, no cards to send... just a day where you got together with loved ones, had wonderful food and if you were of a mind to, counted your blessings.

I loved going to my mother and stepfather's for Thanksgiving. My mother and I have always had our ups and downs, but on Thanksgiving, all that was put aside. I looked forward to arriving at their place; it would be warm and cozy, filled with mouth-watering smells and festively decorated. There was usually an eclectic bunch present; Mom had always been one to take in the people who were by themselves, at loose ends, on holidays. Over the years, I'd brought my share of friends who had no other place to go, and they were warmly welcomed.

No one cooked like my mother. Her turkeys were always tender and juicy, even the white meat. She'd collect all the drippings and juices, put them in the freezer until all the fat rose to the top, then skim it off. I don't know how she thickened the gravy, but she didn't use flour and it was never lumpy or pasty. She always put in plenty of cooked fresh mushrooms, because she knew I loved them. Oh, and her stuffing... I could have made a meal of that alone, mountains of it. I hate yams, and you can have mashed potatoes anytime. Pass on that disgusting Thanksgiving staple, the goopy green bean/mushroom soup casserole with canned fried onions on top. (Not that she ever made that!) But my mom's stuffing -- starchy Nirvana.

She and my stepdad and their friends were partial to a lemon cheesecake from Baker's Square pies for dessert. However, I thought cheesecake after all that rich food was utterly gross, and besides, you have to have pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. So I always brought one.

Even cleanup was fun, as we'd crowd into the kitchen, wrapping leftovers, washing dishes, laughing, sated and giddy with carb/tryptophan overload. I figured since I didn't do the cooking, the least I could do was help with the mess afterward and I enjoyed doing so. I'd spend the next couple of nights there. After John came into my life, I'd come home Saturday morning and spend the rest of the weekend with him. He'd be with his own family on Thanksgiving; we'd mutually agreed that he'd see his, I'd see mine, and we'd get together afterwards.

It was a lovely place to be. I felt like a kid again, or at least how a kid should feel... comfortable, loved, well fed and cared for. Safe.

Then my mother began her slow descent into dementia, and everything changed.

Thanksgiving went from warm and pleasant to not-so-pleasant, then uncomfortable, then spectacularly awful. There were tears and fights and ruined food. And finally, it was over. My mother went into an assisted-care facility, and that was the end of Thanksgiving as we knew it.

For the past two years, I have refused to acknowledge Thanksgiving. I have treated it like just another Thursday, staying home and watching DVDs, reading, whatever I felt like doing. John continued to do his own thing with whichever family member was in town; I was always welcome and I knew that, but I didn't want to go and begged off. He understood and didn't pressure me, although I know he was disappointed. I couldn't help it. It was too damn depressing for me and I preferred to withdraw and ignore the whole thing.

This year is different. This year, for better or worse, I think I'm ready to rejoin the living.

We are invited to John's sister's house later this afternoon; most of his family will be there. I have many mixed feelings about going, but above everything else, I want to be with John. I know he wants me there and I want to be there for him. It's one meal, it's a few hours. I could have lost him in recent weeks. On this day, I want to be with the person in my life for whom I'm the most thankful.

And hey, there are bright sides. John has two sisters: one prepares food that is tasty and reasonably healthy; the other one's cooking makes me feel like all the blood in my body has been replaced by butterfat. Fortunately, the former is doing the cooking today, not the latter. :-)

All right -- time to do some laundry, get some other things done and then prepare to head out. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, whatever you're doing. I wish you peace, happiness and a thankful heart this day.

The weekend

It was a mixed bag. John saw the cardiologist on Friday. They said the expected, that his heart valve is damaged. But they couldn't say whether or not this was exacerbated by the recent infection or that extent of damage had been there all along, since he's been living with mitral valve prolapse for years. They want to see him again in three months for a follow-up and to discuss surgery.

Many decisions to make, eventually. For example -- does he go with the pig valve or the artificial valve? The former lasts about 15 years and the latter can last forever; however, with the artificial, he'll have to take blood-thinning medication for the rest of his life, and that stuff comes with its own hazards.

Ugh.

I can't think about it now. I just can't.

This weekend, John was very much like his old self. Unfortunately, he is dealing with a side effect of the antibiotics -- he itches. All over, mercilessly, and it's the worst at night. Parts of his legs broke out in a rash. So he was a bit irritable and restless, snapped at me a few times. We bought him some Eucerin and he said it helped somewhat. But other than that, he was doing quite well. His color was good, he wasn't overly fatigued and was able to get a lot of odds and ends done. He finally opened his birthday presents; he hadn't felt like it before, so they'd been sitting on his coffee table since the beginning of October.

We went to dinner at one of our favorite places. I watched, beaming, as he cleaned his plate, cleaned mine, ate three rolls and then washed it all down with a glass of Cabernet. Seeing him enjoy food again is such a pleasure.

And for the first time in what, six weeks? seven? he kissed me. :-) We've hugged, snuggled, held hands. But he hadn't given me a real kiss since he got sick.

It's the little things.

I don't get to see New Guy tomorrow. He has family visiting from out of town. (sigh) Amazing how spoiled I've become in such a short time. I didn't play for months, didn't even feel like playing. Now the thought of skipping a week makes me cranky.

Oh well. At least I have some work to do.

You know, I've been so distracted, I've completely forgotten to bitch about how it's another freaking holiday season again. I need to get on that.

Hope everyone had a nice weekend.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 11/12

Happy Friday, everyone. Today's CHoS has only three entries, but I'd say that the last one has enough material for three or four on its own.

Single and looking for a wife .you sound perfect
if you are willing to relocate reply back at we can get toknow each oter better.

Uh... I sound perfect to relocate and marry you? What part of "I'm in a relationship" wasn't clear? Sorry, I'm marriage-averse. I'm also idiot-averse.

i cant beleave how hot and sexy you are in your photo this early morning i love it so much.nothing is nicer then you in a morning.

Beleave [sic] me, honey, there is nothing nice about me in the morning. Must have coffee and a shower. Then I'm still a bitch until noon.

And finally: What do I love, guys? Long, blathering intro emails that are obviously form letters, professing that I just might be the one. Read on:

How'r you doing,hope you fine and in good health condition,i read thru your profile and i really loved what i read and thanks for your intrest,My name is xxxxxxx and i hope u would read my profile and find out more about me,i asked myself some questions and give u the answer,can u also answer them and let me know what you think,i would take them one after the other:

So what do you like to do for fun? Your hobbies and interests can reveal a lot about you, and I'd like to learn more. Is there anything special that you're passionate about? I love swimming,taking walks down the park,observing nature,running and walking,i also love cooking and taking walks by the sea side,I'm passionate about a candle lit dinner with i and my partner holding hands together and sharing intimate things about each other. Are you close to your family? I was asking if you're close to your family in the emotional kind of way, but now that I think about it, do they live nearby, too? I'm not really close to my family,cos i don't have one,but each day and night i really miss them all,they don't live nearby. How would you describe your sense of humor? Some people like silly slapstick, while others go for more subtle stuff. What tickles your funny bone? My sense of humor is quite intresting,i'm shy at first but as we get closer i feel free to express my heart desires. What kind of food do you like? Do you have a favorite restaurant? Some like hot and spicy, others prefer comfort food. If you had to pick one type of food, what would you say is your favorite? I love american food and also italian food and most times,i love to cook for myself.I love Mc donalds.I love comfort food. Wow! We could be a match. Would you like to chat online? It seems like we have a lot in common. I'd love to talk to you more and see what develops. What do you think? here till hear from u soon

(groaning and reaching for the Advil bottle) This one speaks for itself, people. I have nothing to add.

John is into the second week of his IV therapy. He says he is not feeling as fatigued, and although he's still in a weakened state, now it feels more like he has a mild cold instead of a raging flu. He says the docs told him it's OK to stay at the weight he's at right now, because his BMI is fine and a lighter weight is easier on his heart. But between us... he lost 20 pounds, and I would love to see him gain back 10. Perhaps when he's feeling better and can start working out again, he'll put some muscle back on.

It's been a really rough time, but I think I'm seeing some light now. My sweetheart is getting better. I have an awesome new play partner. I actually got a work project this week. And I got Chrossed today (thank you, Chross, for my soaring view count!). For this moment, all is well in my world.

Oh, and because I received a request for a photo that is not bottom-centric, here's a shot of me in happy mode:

Have a great weekend, y'all.