Welcome to my blog! 🙂
This might be my last update for a while. I really don’t have anything good to post, and the situation here is a bit dire.
The Bobcat fire in Southern California is close to John’s town. It is up in the hills above several foothill communities, and John’s is one of them. I was there with him this weekend, and yesterday, we were told to leave. John is staying at his condo in another county, and I am back at my apartment.
The air quality is poor everywhere, some places worse than others. In John’s area, everything smelled like a barbecue. Mercifully, at my place, the sky is hazy but there is no smell.
Last week began with my A/C that was out for two days when we had triple-digit temperatures, and it ended with my car costing $1550 in various repairs and maintenance. John was healing from a pulled tooth and an infected thumb, and I was dealing with three large, weepy, angry ant bites on my leg with itching that nearly drove me nuts. And now, compared to this fire hanging over our heads like a specter, last week was a picnic.
The entire West Coast is on fire, it seems. Washington and Oregon are badly impacted too. There seems to be no end in sight.
I am home working. Trying to keep my head and not lose it in panic and fear. And anger. Because this didn’t have to happen. And neither did the extremity of the Covid epidemic that’s keeping us from our loved ones at this highly stressful time.
Four years ago, I cried all night in fear, not knowing what exactly I was afraid of but feeling a sense of doom. Now I know exactly what I feared. All this. Living hell, truly. And I’m an atheist and don’t even believe in that crap. But if this isn’t hell, I don’t know what is. Out of control fires. Riots and protests and shootings. An out of control pandemic, with a so-called president who knew how bad it was but lied to all of us.
And that bloated monster is here in CA right now, blaming us for the fires. Go do your fucking hate rallies, you murderous lying bastard. We don’t want you here.
I know other people I love are suffering. This has been an awful year for just about everyone I know. Many tragedies and losses, illnesses, pain. It’s hard to feel like you can ask for support when everyone else needs it too. So… I’m just hunkering down and hoping. I’m not budging from my apartment, where it is quiet and safe. I will work. I need to pay my bills. Play is the furthest thing from my mind right now, so there’s no point in trying to keep up a spanking blog. When/if life calms a bit, I will get back to it.
Please hold a good thought for me. I am so scared.
Many of you are aware that the uber-talented Jillian Keenan has her own YouTube channel, and has been posting videos about our favorite fetish, spanking. There is no actual spanking in these videos, but they’re not necessary, because the content is rich and funny and thought-provoking, and there’s something for everyone. Sometimes Jillian appears in these by herself; other times she has guests appear. Before Covid struck, she had many videos stocked up with other people in them. She does a great job of editing; the videos have a fully professional feel to them.
A couple of months or so ago (I’ve lost track of time this year), Jillian contacted me and asked if I’d like to contribute to a compilation video she was putting together of various spanking folks talking about how to handle play (or the lack thereof) during the pandemic. She said it could be very simple, just a quick video on my phone. I happily agreed. I was thrilled to be included. Also, it gave me an excuse to put on makeup, something I hadn’t done since when, February? Also, I’d just managed to get my hair cut, in between times the salons were shut down, so I had good hair. Vanity, thy name is Erica.
I shot it and sent it off; she let me know she got it and that she was very happy with it. I figured she had to collect all the other contributions and edit them together, so it might be a while.
Well, guess what — it went up this past weekend! John and I watched on Saturday. She got a wonderful collection of spankos together for this, from all over the world (Ariel Anderssen, Princess Kelley and Stephen Lewis, Pandora/Blake, Madame Samantha B, Pharaoh, Miss Rachel and Cassidy Lau), and what she did with all the bits of film was incredible. I thought she was just going to show us in turn, doing our spiel, but she cut us all together, going back and forth, taking turns — she did it in a way that made it look like we were all having one big conversation with one another. It was awesome! In fact, she ended up with so much material, she decided to make a Part 2. I think she used enough of my footage in Part 1 that I won’t be in the second one, but who knows.
Anyway, here tis:
Please leave her a nice comment if you liked this! And give a watch to her other videos if you haven’t already. She has many. And if you wish to support her efforts and become one of her patrons, that’s an option as well.
In other news, I am officially in hell. We’ve had a record-breaking heat wave here in So. CA, and the power companies have been stretched to the max. It hit 114-115 both days at John’s house; his A/C is pretty strong, but we ran it day and night. It felt like an inferno outside. And I was scared that any minute, we’d have one of those rolling blackouts. Yeah, global warming is a hoax, my ass.
Yesterday when we went to pick up breakfast, my car nearly overheated. We got back, John looked under the hood, said all looked okay and it was probably just the extreme heat and the overload of blasting the A/C. I was still really nervous though, and anxious to get the drive home over with. John’s A/C was still working, but the heat had driven ants into his bathroom, which was swarming with them. He put out traps, but it takes a while for them to take effect.
I drove home, and sure enough, the car was fine. I didn’t blast the A/C this time, just halfway instead of full blast, and the temp gauge stayed squarely in the middle. I got my groceries and was so relieved when I got home. Ah, I thought. Now I hunker down, work, stay indoors and cool until this damned heat breaks.
Until I opened the door to my apartment and was not greeted with that welcome gust of cold air. Oh, no. No, no, no…
Yep. Our building’s A/C crapped out. And there’s nothing that can be done until at least Tuesday because of the holiday. I’m sure the demands for A/C repair are through the roof with this heat wave.
Swell. My apartment was 85 degrees. People said “Go back to John’s.” But I didn’t want to. I was afraid to keep pushing my luck, driving in this heat. Plus there were those damned ants. And his lack of WiFi, his glacial internet speed — I can visit fine, but I can’t get anything done there. Besides — guess what? Yup, he had a rolling blackout last night. Just for a couple of hours, but still.
What could I do? Nothing. So, since yesterday afternoon, this has been my new normal. I have several fans going. I have a spray bottle on my work table and I keep spritzing myself with water every few minutes. No, I’m not wearing any clothes. The lights are all turned off. I’m drinking cold water. I filled my bathtub with cold water and every now and then, I go take a dunk in it. Last night, I slept with two frozen bottles of water inside socks in my bed. And so it goes. As long as my power holds out, I will get through it. If it goes out, then I’m screwed. But hopefully it won’t. It hasn’t so far.
Goddammit. We were supposed to be in Vegas this weekend, having an altogether different kind of hot time. (sigh) Screw you, Covid. (And here’s the irony; Vegas would have actually been cooler!) To add insult to injury, I have two large, madly itching welts on my right leg. Ant bites??
This too shall pass. Please send all your ice-cold vibes.
On August 30, 1996, John and I met for the first time after he answered my ad. And the rest is twenty-four years of a whole lot of history.
Unfortunately, we don’t really get to celebrate in the traditional sense this year. We normally do two things at this time of year — go out for a special dinner, and go to the Labor Day weekend party in Vegas. In the clusterfuck that is 2020, we can do neither.
To add insult to injury, or vice versa, on Friday, John had an abscessed tooth extracted. It had gotten to be an emergency because of problems getting in to see a dentist/specialist due to Covid. I was terrified that the infection would spread, but it seems it didn’t. Still, having a tooth pulled is no fun. I couldn’t even bake him anniversary brownies, since he couldn’t eat them.
We did order take-out brunch yesterday. Then I discovered my order was screwed up when we got home.
Happy anniversary!! massive eye roll
And of course, all weekend we were bombarded with bad news about Portland, Kenosha, Hurricane Laura, and so forth. I confiscated the remote and told John CNN was off the table. (I believe my actual words were, “We are not watching this shit.”) I was worried about two dear friends, both in unpleasant circumstances, and could do nothing for either one.
Powerlessness. Acceptance. Keep on carrying on.
So, feeling nostalgic, and because I’ve been going through and deleting old files (which I really should have done before I got the new computer, but oh well), I came across some fun pictures John and I took early in our relationship. I think this was before Erica Scott came to be.
One day, John brought home a very cool new toy from his work so that we could play with it over the weekend. It was the latest in high tech.
A digital camera.
For those of you who don’t remember the joys of having film developed at Fotomat and having to wait to discover 3/4 of your pictures turned out crappy, blurry, or had a thumb stuck in them, you can’t possibly imagine the thrill of the digital camera. Pre-Smart phones, they were the latest and greatest. But the early ones were laughably clunky, even though they were cutting edge at the time. This contraption John brought home was rather large, and — get this — you actually inserted a diskette. You shot your pictures, then then took out the diskette, popped it into your computer drive, and uploaded your pictures.
So on a beautiful sunny Saturday, John and I went to a hiking area off Mulholland Drive, and spent a couple of hours walking and taking various pictures.
This is a rare sighting of me outdoors, folks.
We found a little hidden alcove and no one else was around, so of course this happened:
Look at my handsome man. ♥
But then, of course, I could only take so much sunlight, and we came home. And then experimented with a different kind of picture.
You know, the sort of pictures of me that are all over the net now… but certainly weren’t then. I think this might be the first time I’d been shot naked since I was a baby. (Please disregard John’s hideous old couch. He and I both have what he likes to call “dead grandma furniture.”)
I had a lot to learn about posing then. But I did have the leg and pointed toe thing going on. 😀
So many experiences in twenty-four years. So many milestones and memories.
People are wishing us well, and some have said, “May you have another twenty-four years.” But honestly? I don’t want another twenty-four years if they’re going to be like 2020. This needs to end. So many friends I know and love have had their worst year ever. I’m trying to hold on to a positive thought, but the damned abyss of depression waits at my feet. So I keep on working, keep on plugging each day, and hope for the best.
Today would have been my brother’s birthday. Of course, that gets all the feels going too. Ugh. But I have to look forward, not back.
Remembering something Jay sent me a while back — I am brave. We all are brave. We are survivors.
And hey! A week from Tuesday, I get to have my hair cut and colored. Hair salons are back open as of today. Then I can video chat with pretty hair. Because yes, I’m that vain.
Take care, everyone. Be kind.
So I told you guys before about CuriousCat and how people can ask anonymous questions there. Most of the time, it’s quite harmless. Maybe some questions are repetitive or presumptuous, but they can also be quite thoughtful and fun to answer.
However, it seems I have myself a troll of sorts on there. Someone who keeps posting unpleasant questions and comments about “DrLectr” (AKA Joe, the gentleman who organizes 50 Freaks and has now taken over Shadow Lodge parties, whenever we can have parties again). I don’t know why this person has dragged me into things; I guess he has seen that Joe and I are friends. But he clearly has an ax to grind and I don’t know just what the hell I’m supposed to do about it.
So, I’ve ignored him. Tried to reason with him. But he just keeps coming back. And yesterday, he posted a series a questions that are so wrong in so many ways, I felt the need to address them in a blog post. You want attention, buddy? You got it. Still not sure what the hell you want from me, though. But you asked, so I’m answering. And to my nice loyal readers, sorry you get to be dragged into this, but such is online BS sometimes.
Which brings me to my first question: What the hell is wrong with you? I mean… really? We’re in the middle of a damn pandemic, thousands of people are dead, thousands more are unemployed, people are losing everything, there’s no end in sight, and we’re in the hands of a madman… and this is what you’re fixated on? Why would you even care about something like this now? Don’t you have anything else with which to concern yourself?
Clearly not. All right, fine. I’ll address each one of your points separately, and then hopefully we can be done with this. Also, I am speaking strictly for myself, not for DrLectr. I could defend Joe until I’m blue in the face, but you won’t listen to me. And I’m not going to presume to answer these questions for him. But I can certainly answer them for me.
Contrary to what you and some others may believe, I do not bully people who disagree with me. If people are civil and polite, don’t get in my face, insult me, speak condescendingly, etc., I am civil in return. I can agree to disagree. But yeah… if you give me a hard time, I’m damn well giving you one back. Or, worse, if you give any of my friends a hard time.
Here are a couple of examples, both from Facebook. On my own feed, I posted something political. I realize not everyone subscribes to my political leanings, but I figure on Facebook, if you don’t want to read something, you move on to something else. You don’t charge onto someone else’s page and get in their face. However, some clown who is a complete stranger to me came on and said that I and a friend of mine were “stuipd [sic] Communists and should stick it where the sun don’t shine.” Excuse me? I suppose I could have deleted it, but it really irked me — who asked him?? So I replied “Oh, noooo… [my friend’s name], did you hear that? We’re ‘stuipd’! Scram, fool. Nobody asked you to post here.”
Is that bullying, when he instigated it? I’m thinking not. If someone punches me in the face, I’m not going to smile, offer up my face again and tell them they missed a spot.
Another example — this wasn’t on my page, but a friend’s. Again, a political post. One of my friends got into it with a Trumpite who was insulting him left, right, and sideways, in a very ugly, personal way. Calling him a “whiny Jew boy” and a “pussy who probably got beat up all the time in school.” I saw red. Being Jewish myself, when people drag antisemitism into things, I really get pissed off. I looked at this guy’s profile. He had a girl’s name.
So I came on and replied to the “pussy who got beat up” comment: “So says the man with a girl’s name. Projecting much, you Nazi fucktard?”
He didn’t reply. I have zero regrets and give zero fucks. No one talks to my friends like that. Would I have barged onto the page and said that on my own? No. I need a reason. Someone has to push me into it. It has nothing to do with whether or not I agree with you. It’s how you present your opinion. Your respect gets mine.
I’ve had haters say my Correspondence Hall of Shame is bullying. Um, no, it is not. I only highlight people who are rude and presumptuous, and I never identify them. As I’ve said a bazillion times, if someone writes me something that is nice, that is thoughtful, that is polite, but they don’t spell everything correctly, I am not going to poke fun at them. But hey, if they’re rude first? All bets are off.
Next — newcomers don’t come back? I beg to differ. There are more people going to parties now, not fewer. I have been going to parties for 23 years, and I remember how it was to be new. Nervous? Hell, I still get nervous going to these things. I have made a point over the years, especially after I started doing videos and had somewhat of a scene presence, to welcome new people, to be friendly. I have had many people tell me how helpful I was to them when they were new. And I don’t do a quarter of the stuff DrLectr does — hosting, planning, arranging, trying to make people happy.
And this “models/hookers” shit needs to go already. What the hell do you have against the women in the spanking video industry? Is it because you probably made such a bad impression on the ones you met that they wanted nothing further to do with you? News flash, pal: just because someone works in the industry doesn’t mean they are public domain at a party. You cannot demand their time any more than you can demand anyone’s time. They don’t owe you anything. And, like with every other person, if you are respectful and nice, they will be respectful and nice back. You don’t get to be rude and then cry “cliques! hookers!” when they respond in kind.
So knock it off with the sour grapes bullshit. I can taste them all the way over here. You want to be treated well? Be the person you would like others to be to you. And that does not include throwing anonymous potshots and insults at others from behind your computer screen.
I really don’t know why you assume I’m in the inner circle of everything and I know who did what to whom and why and all the dramas. I am not. I was out of the public scene for an entire year, and only just put my toe back into it this year. I’ve been to exactly one party in 2020 and haven’t socialized with any scene friends since February. I rarely go on FetLife. When I do go to a party, I don’t know half the people there. I’m retired from shooting videos. I. Am. Not. That. Involved.
Are Joe and I friends? Yes, indeed we are. I have known him for several years and he has never been anything but respectful and kind to me. I have enjoyed many scenes with him, and several years of his party hospitality, and I know many others who can say the same. He and his girlfriend recently contributed to a wonderful group birthday present for me, and I have seen him start many GoFundMe efforts over the years for scene people who were sick or had financial troubles. Joe has a lot of friends. If you want to call that an “entourage,” I can’t stop you. All I can say is I belong to no entourage.
If you have an issue with me, then say so and be direct about it. But if you have an issue with Joe, for fuck’s sake, talk to Joe! Why do you keep pulling me into your drama? Joe doesn’t answer to me. I am not Joe’s keeper. I don’t have any control over anyone but myself. I don’t know why you think I have so much power in this scene, but you couldn’t be more wrong.
I do not “run people off.” My friends do not “hustle” others. Again, this argument is so old, and so wrong, and yet it keeps perpetuating, thanks to ignorant people with bad attitudes. The spanking models are not at parties to make your life and your time there miserable. They are paying guests. They are working guests. They are shooting, juggling sessions, and trying to have time to spend with friends as well. They have stresses and insecurities and tire out like everyone else. They are people, not cardboard cutouts for you to objectify. They have feelings.
Sure, I don’t like everyone in the scene. I don’t like everyone at parties. So? Everyone doesn’t like me, either. If someone is a known abuser from several sources I trust, or someone I have personal bad experience with, that’s one thing. But if I don’t like someone? I don’t try to ruin their time, or ruin their reputation. I just spend time elsewhere, with people I want to be with. I really don’t think that makes me a snob or an elitist or part of a some nefarious entourage.
Life’s too short to spend time doing things that don’t make you happy or fulfilled in some way. That’s why I can’t understand why people who can’t stand my blog read it anyway. Why bother? I don’t read blogs I hate! I also don’t watch TV shows I don’t like, read books I don’t like, eat food I don’t like, and so on and on. You get my point. I hate cottage cheese. So I don’t buy it and I don’t eat it. Wouldn’t it really be asinine of me if I ate it anyway and then complained bitterly about it? So the same logic follows with people. If I don’t care for them, I don’t go out of my way to interact negatively with them. I ignore them as best I can, unless they really poke at me. (Snarking on Twitter doesn’t count. Everyone snarks on Twitter.)
Speaking of not having power over others — I don’t have any power over you, either. If you want to go on with this childish nonsense, I can’t stop you. But I suggest you seek some professional help for your rage/resentment issues, and for crying out loud, stop hiding in your little cyber tower with your little sniper rifle. You can hate and blame others all you want, but it’s about as pointless as drinking poison and hoping someone else dies. Just. Fucking. Stop. You’re making a fool of yourself, and you’re changing absolutely nothing.
(deep breath) The rest of you — take care and have a good weekend. Stay safe. ♥
It’s been nearly a month since I posted, but really, there hasn’t been that much to write about. Well, except one huge thing that happened two weeks ago, and I haven’t had the time to talk about it since because of work and life and so forth. But now is a good breaking point to stop and reflect. Settle in and grab your beverage of choice.
Let’s backtrack a bit; you all know I dropped out of the public scene for all of 2019. It was a really dark time for me, one in which I felt like I didn’t belong anymore, I didn’t know who my friends were (with a few exceptions who stuck with me through it all). Come 2020, I was ready to reenter things. I reactivated FetLife, and in February, I went to a big national party after skipping the last two. I had a fabulous time, felt reconnected and renewed, and was looking forward to further adventures.
Then COVID-19 hit. And everything shut down. No parties. No play dates. No coffee dates. No anything, socially. I’d reentered the scene just in time to have it disappear.
Virtual meetings became the norm. Zoom, FaceTime, Skype, etc. The only way we could see our friends was on a computer screen. But it was better than nothing, right?
Except I couldn’t do any of that. Because I still had this old desktop that ran perfectly well with just one glitch: I couldn’t chat with anyone online. It didn’t have a built-in cam, and I tried three different external webcams, all with the same result: picture, but no sound. I had my computer tech take the system home with him and tear it apart, trying to find out what was wrong, and he couldn’t. So I knew I wouldn’t be able to do virtual chat with anyone until I got a new computer system.
Which I couldn’t afford.
However, my birthday is at the end of September. And John was making noises about how I should start shopping and researching computer systems. I knew what that meant; he was going to buy me a new system for my birthday. He does stuff like that. I mean, he bought me my current system, and insisted I get the best. When I was going to buy a 19-inch monitor, he said live a little, get a 21-inch one. This system has served me well, and still runs well (and quickly), save for that webcam issue. But perhaps it was time to move on. After all, I was still on Windows 7 and Word 2010.
Online, I complained endlessly to anyone who would listen about how I couldn’t cam with anyone. People said things like “You really need to upgrade.” Sure, okay. Wanna buy me a new computer?? Tell me something I don’t know.
A couple of weeks ago, my dear friend Jay and I were having our usual daily email exchange, and she cryptically told me that she’d “done a thing” and had help with it. That I would be getting a package from Fed-Ex that I’d have to sign for, and it would be coming from Zack’s address. (You remember Zack from 50 Freaks; I had several pictures of him and me in my party blog.) Um… what? She said she knew it was my birthday next month and she had planned an early surprise gift. She had one request: when I got it and opened it, she wanted me to record my reactions on my phone.
What on earth had she been up to?? I couldn’t imagine what it was. John couldn’t either.
The package was supposed to arrive sometime Thursday… but then midday Jay got a notification that it was now bumped to sometime Friday. (Of course, they don’t give you a time window — they just say “sometime before end of day.”) Argh. Well, at least I was going to be home all day and evening Friday, right? So we waited.
On Friday, I got up early and got as much work done as I could. Jay had warned me that once the package arrived, I wouldn’t be getting much of anything done for the rest of the day. Good grief, this was getting more and more intriguing. And at 2:15, my doorbell rang. Yup, Fed-Ex. A huge, heavy box. I signed for it and dragged it inside. Then, as requested, I set up my phone to record my opening it. I grabbed a sharp knife and hit the record button.
Oh. My. God.
There was a ton of packing material, piles of bubble wrap, and two distinctly wrapped packages within. Recording all the while, I babbled in confusion as I tore through things, trying to figure out what the hell I was looking at here. And then I saw the laptop case.
No. They didn’t.
I fumbled and fumfered around with the case; I was so flustered, I couldn’t even get the damn thing open! Finally I did, and then I pulled out the new Asus Chromebook. Oh. My. God.
When I lifted the lid, I saw a couple of sheets of paper within. One was a note from Zack, explaining everything that was included, and letting me know that he had installed software to allow him to remotely get into my computer, help me figure things out, copy over all my files, etc. The other sheet was from Jay. Along with a very loving note, she let me know that this had been a group effort; she’d contacted several people and gotten contributions from them. She listed all of them and their FetLife/Twitter names. And on the other side was a list of messages from all the people. Besides Jay and Zack, ten other people had contributed to this. When I saw the messages, the waterworks started.
Mind you, I was being recorded. So here I was, sobbing, babbling incoherently, sitting on the carpet fumbling about with all this wrapping detritus around me, thanking Jay and Zack, saying how much I loved everyone, that I couldn’t believe they did this, that I didn’t have the faintest idea what to do with this right now because I’m such a techno-dork… and then I shut off the recorder.
Before I finished unwrapping the gift(s).
There was still another package to open. They thought of everything.
Besides the laptop and its new travel case, there was a separate, larger monitor. A separate webcam, because Zack said the built-in cam was a little grainy. Plugs and connectors and other things I didn’t recognize. And a wireless mouse.
The laptop was loaded with software. Microsoft Office 2016, which Zack said was the latest and the best before they went to that Microsoft 365 nonsense that you sort of “rent” instead of buying the program. A full Adobe suite, including Acrobat and Photoshop. Zoom was loaded. Zack had even linked me into his streaming service, so I could watch things from his collection of shows and movies.
I ended up making a second recording to add my thanks for all the other stuff I’d discovered after I made the first one. Yes, I came off like a complete dork. But it was real. It was me, raw, overwhelmed and touched beyond belief.
Priorities. The first thing I did was upload the two recordings of my reactions and send them to both Jay and Zack. I took a selfie, in the midst of my sob-fest, with red nose and wet eyes and the whole shebang. I sent a tweet, linking nearly everyone involved, and attached the selfie, saying words couldn’t express what was in my heart, so here was a picture of me bawling with joy. For the three people who weren’t on Twitter, I texted two and emailed the third.
Zack told me that he’d be available that evening and would help me figure stuff out. After I had my nightly phone chat with John (and I cried all the way through that too), first thing I did was take a picture of the bits and pieces I couldn’t figure out and text it to Zack, and he explained what they were. I connected the laptop to my WiFi. Then we connected via Zoom (first time for me, using that) and then were online together for the next two hours. He was in my system remotely, so he could see everything that was going on, and after I let him into my desktop, he copied over all my files, pictures, and music. He showed me around some of the programs.
During our chat, my signal dropped twice and I lost the connection. I asked him what this could be, and he said perhaps I should reboot my router. I did that after our talk, but then the next time I tried the laptop, the signal dropped again. My desktop is connected to my router via Ethernet cable, so the signal never drops, and it never drops on my cell phone either, so I couldn’t understand why this was happening. I spent some time on the phone with AT&T, and they said my router is fine and the connection is strong. So, that’s the next project with Zack — try to work out why the signal to the laptop is glitchy and how to strengthen it without using an Ethernet cable. But that will be later. Also, I want to try to figure out how to sync my laptop and desktop. I’m still keeping the latter, so I’d like to be able to have whatever I do on one happen on the other, if that’s possible. I have so much to learn. Oh, and my work table now has the desktop, laptop, and extra monitor on it, and it’s too crowded. So I’m shopping for a small side table I can use for the laptop. Oh, and accessories like a lap tray and a cooling pad. And and and… I’m getting ahead of myself. This is all so new and exciting.
Back to that night — after I said goodbye to Zack, I played around with the laptop for a while longer, adding my email accounts, choosing a desktop picture and screen saver, adding my MalwareBytes account. At 10 p.m., I was still so wound up I was shaking, and I realized I hadn’t eaten any dinner. I shut everything down, figuring I’d done all I could for one night, and grabbed a KIND bar and a yogurt. The next day I went to John’s, but I didn’t bring the laptop with me — I figured I wanted to give John all my attention and it would be waiting for me when I came home. John was as blown away by this as I was. I think he was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to buy it for me, and he confessed to being worried that our friends would think he was cheap or something because he didn’t do this first. I assured him that they all knew he had intended to, but they just did it sooner!
So. Even though the bulk of this year has been a clusterfuck, even with pandemics and elections and protests and fires and general mayhem happening all around me… I got a wonderful gift. No, not the laptop and the accessories, although those were indeed wonderful. I got the gift of feeling loved. Of knowing how many people care about me. I still can’t believe all the preparation that went into this. First, Jay painstakingly contacted as many people as she could think of, collected the funds, coordinated the messages, kept in touch with everyone with updates. Then Zack took over, getting the system, loading all the software, packing everything so thoroughly and carefully. (I was popping bubble wrap for a week.) It was a labor of love by all, and I still can’t believe I was the recipient. Even two weeks later, writing about this makes me choke up.
And yes, I’m typing up this blog on my new laptop.
In this awful time of isolation and uncertainty, I feel very much loved. I belong.
I love you, Jay. I love you, Zack. I love all of you who contributed to this. When I finally get all this stuff figured out, I hope to Zoom or FaceTime with some of you.
Although I haven’t worn makeup in months and I have about an inch of gray roots and maybe I don’t want people seeing me after all…
SHUT UP, ERICA!
Take care, everyone. Stay safe and well. ♥
Happy Friday, kids. It’s been another action-packed week in Pandemic Paradise. Work and workouts, texting with friends, and way too damn much social media. Earlier this week on Twitter, I had the temerity to suggest that people who willfully refuse to wear masks in areas where they are mandated (I’m not talking about the homeless, or other people who don’t have access to them) should be fined. Ohhhhh my. Among many other things, I was called “a good little Nazi youth.” Yeeeesh. With all the other insults, I just deleted them and blocked the people who sent them. But with that one, I couldn’t resist replying “I’m Jewish, you ignorant fuck.”
Ah, good times.
So, coming to the end of another week of dodging the plague, what do I want?
I know some people are having lots of this, but I really don’t want to go that route.
I suppose I could always go with some of this…
I have plenty of this in my freezer…
And thanks to my thoughtful friend Jay, I also have plenty of this…
Wait — maybe something salty instead? This is what I had for dinner a while back. Don’t judge me.
Plenty of choices!
But I really don’t want any of the above.
My stomach is well fed and not at all hungry. However, my skin, my body, my heart and soul are hungry.
Goddamn it all to hell, this is what I want.
But I keep thinking about all the deaths. All the people who can’t breathe. The escalating cases in my state. And no matter how I try to get around it, there seems to be no safe way to play right now.
Sooooo… where’s that @#$%ing chocolate??
(sigh) Have a good weekend, y’all. Be safe.