Erica Scott: Life, Love and Spanking

Ruminations, opinionated observations, darkly humorous blathering and the occasional rant from an outspoken spanko and unapologetic attention wh–, um, hog.

Archive for the month “April, 2012”

Boardwalk Badness Weekend, Part 1: Pre-Party

I’m home. It’s Monday night, and after months of anticipation, our first BBW experience is behind us. My mind is crammed with so many details and the task of recording it all is daunting. I know I’ll forget things, as always. But I need to make a start. Especially since I’m being nagged by the Peanut Gallery on FetLife! 🙂

First and foremost — WE HAD A BLAST! Yes, getting there was stressful for me. But it was well worth it. Thursday afternoon until very late Sunday night were crammed with fun and laughs, play, new friends and old ones, and tons of hugs and kisses. The SSNY people really know how to put on a party and please the masses.

Thursday morning, I got up at 1:30. Yes, a.m. John came over at 3:00, we piled his stuff into my car and headed for the airport. There were some stressors early on: 1) We couldn’t find Parking Lot C at LAX (what a zoo that place is!); 2) it was raining and we got drenched heading for the shuttle depot; 3) the TSA agent held back John’s carry-on and made us sit and wait while he went through it, not saying a word of explanation to us. Turned out he didn’t like the Thermos John had in there; 4) the A/C on the plane wasn’t working properly and we were boiling; 5) the plane ride and elevation aggravated John’s knee and his lower leg swelled up like a balloon. But we got there in one piece, regardless. And Sarah and RG, bless them, were there waiting for us. So very nice of them to offer us a ride! It was fun to finally meet them.

We rode with them and Becka (who was a hoot!) to the Resorts Atlantic City hotel, which took about an hour. By the time we got there, around 5:00, I was exhausted. John had slept on the plane, but I couldn’t, so all I wanted to do was get to our room and sleep for a while before the socializing began. I so wanted to greet everyone we saw as we made our way through the hotel, but part of me was screaming, “SLEEEEEEP! I need sleep! And some peace and quiet. I will put on my party face later; right now, I am running on fumes.” I was afraid anyone who saw me at that time would think I was most uptight and unpleasant.

So we finally got our room keys and straggled upstairs. However, sweet peace and comfortable bed eluded me a little longer — we stepped into our room and found a disaster area. The beds were unmade, the carpets were wet and there was a fan blowing in the middle of the room. The bathroom was trashed, wet towels everywhere and mold in the shower. I called the front desk, explained what we were seeing and he put me on hold. Finally, when he came back on the line, he said the room had been flooded and we shouldn’t have been put there. He apologized and said they’d switched us to another room on the same floor. Of course, we had to shlep down to the front desk again with all our stuff and get the keys. (groan)

I cannot tell you how lovely that clean, neat room looked, how good that bed felt, when we finally checked into #4203. 🙂 We unpacked and then hit the bed for a nap.

The official party wasn’t starting until Friday, but they’d organized an Early Registration event for the early arrivals at one of the hotel’s restaurants, Gallagher’s Burger Bar. This hotel was huge, with multiple floors and towers and corridors, and it took a while to acclimate ourselves and find things. But we wound up where we needed to be, and the greetings began in earnest. Hugs and introductions swirled through the crowd lined up to get our information bags and name badges. One of my favorite random moments was when Sarah Gregory and I caught sight of one another and started shrieking and jumping up and down. The next hour or so was a blur of names and faces, some so dear and familiar, others new and friendly. John and I were both welcomed warmly and it gave me that lovely fuzzy feeling I get nowhere else quite like at a spanking party. If I try to name the names of everyone I was delighted to see, I will inevitably forget some of them and upset someone or another, and I so don’t want to do that.

The restaurant was very crowded and loud, but we managed to join a table with Sandy and Rad, Brad and Geeeee, and a few others. I had my first food shock of the week when I saw the menu and all the rich, heavy, meaty and cheesy choices. I was not in California anymore! John and I both ordered a spinach salad, hold the bacon. (I will now pause while the bacon-lovers assault me mercilessly.) We enjoyed the company, but neither one of us could handle the noise and having to scream above the decibel of it to be heard, as we were exhausted, so we finished our food, gave Sandy some money and asked her to please pay for us, because we were heading off. We decided we’d call it a night, and the next day after a proper night of rest we’d settle into the party fully.

Friday morning John got up to find a gym and work out, as he always does at these hotels, letting me sleep until 11:30. The hotel had several restaurants, and we chose to check out a café called Breadsticks. Once we were seated, I looked at the lunch menu and was surprised again — nothing I could eat. I know, I know… I’m an obsessively picky eater. So I also know how to make things work for me on a menu. I saw they had a turkey club sandwich with bacon and mayo, so I asked if I could have just a plain turkey sandwich on wheat, no mayo, no bacon, and our server said sure, why not. Then she indicated my purse on the floor at my feet and suggested that I might want to move it closer to me, or put it on the table, or else someone might snatch it. Really?? John and I couldn’t help laughing — welcome to Jersey!

Later that afternoon, there was another meet-and-greet, this time in a large airy room with a bar and a balcony where people could go smoke. John and I got there promptly at the beginning so John could get a seat on one of the couches and stay off his leg. What a fun afternoon! Lots of folks showed up and the room was buzzing with activity. We did a lot of chatting, and eventually John felt OK to get up and move around the room a bit.

We ended up at the other end of the room near the balcony, talking with DaChief, his friend Lolo and IMmsunderstood. The three of them were BBW newbies as well, so we hit it off. Then along came my old pal Jersey John, who was up to his usual tricks. He untied my shoelace, then pulled off my sneaker. “What are you doing??” I cried, and my John yelped, “Throw it off the balcony!” So the two of them ran out to the balcony, where a few others were smoking, and made like they were going to toss my shoe away. I went frantically hopping after them, yelling “Give me that!” and managed to snatch it away from JJ. Off to the side, a beautiful redhead was having a cigarette, and she motioned me over. I hopped over to her, and she held out her hand for my shoe. How nice! I thought. She’s siding with me and she’s going to help me put my shoe back on. But nooooo! Once I handed it to her, she reached around and gave me four smacks with it! Everyone started cracking up, including me, and then she did indeed kneel down and help slide the shoe back onto my foot. Upon standing, she gave me a huge hug, which I returned, giggling madly. This lovely copper-haired woman was none other than Caroline Grey.

John and I stayed at the gathering until around 5:00, then decided it was time to decompress a bit and prepare for the Friday night festivities. The party proper was just about to begin, and already my voice was cracking from overuse! I was determined to pace myself and not burn out early. There was a whole lot of fun to be had and I wanted to be up for every bit of it.

To be continued…

Almost time to leave for AC

Sitting here at 10 a.m. having some coffee, which is the last thing I need, come to think of it. Oh, how I envy men before spanking parties; y’all throw some clothes and toiletries (and maybe implements) into a bag and you’re done. Women don’t have it quite so easy! And this woman tends to fret that she’ll forget this or that, or she won’t pack the right things.

So. Bangs are trimmed, toenails are freshly painted for the peep-toe sandals, mail and newspapers put on hold for a few days, shuttle from the hotel to the airport on Monday booked. I’ve been playing with my new phone for the past couple of days and I think I’ve got enough familiarity with it to use it properly during our mini-vacation. Although yesterday, when I tried to enter Sarah Thorne’s phone number into my contacts (she and RG are picking us up at Philly airport tomorrow), I tapped something wrong by accident and ending up calling her. Then, when I tried to send a text to John, I accidentally tapped send, mid-text. Butterfingers.

Today, I need to pull everything together for packing, wash my hair, do all the last-minute bits and pieces. John is coming over at 3:00 a.m., so I will get into bed early tonight and attempt to get a few hours of sleep, as I have to get up around 1:30 a.m. Ugh! I’m usually just getting to bed then! I am so glad we’re going Thursday instead of Friday. I have a whole day to decompress.

I don’t think I will blog while in AC, but you never know. But at least now I have Internet access and I can monitor/reply to comments. I don’t have to worry about anonymous flame-throwers sneaking in and hurling a bomb while I’m offline for days on end. I was going to turn on moderation, but now I don’t have to. 🙂

Nervous? You know it. This is a new party for me, with lots of new people mixed in with the familiar. Very different feel from Shadow Lane; many more organized activities. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going to find California-healthy food there (not that I will be eating that much, anyway). I have not committed to any scenes; I’m leaving it all to where the party takes me. When I go to Shadow Lane, it’s late summer in the desert; I bring nothing but the lightest clothes. But in AC, it’s going to be in 50s during our stay. I have to have dual thinking — play clothes and non-play clothes. And of course, there are my usual worries about being overwhelmed and coming off like an uptight snob to those who don’t know me. Or upsetting friends who want to spend time with me, but I’m too distracted to give them the proper attention they deserve. Plus, out of nowhere, John’s knee swelled up again yesterday. And what if our flight is delayed/canceled? And what about…

UGH! Shut up, Erica. Put one foot in front of the other and show up where you’re supposed to. Smile. Breathe. The rest is out of your hands.

At least neither one of us has caught a cold. I have been drinking Airborne non-stop.

Anyway. I will see some of you there, and I can’t wait. But thanks to my new toy, I won’t be completely out of touch with the rest of you for four days. I’ll do my best to stay somewhat caught up during the down times, if there are any.

Touching back briefly on the subject of anonymous comments — as we all know, some nasty cowards out there hide behind anonymity in order to say cruel and vicious things. However, there is a flip side. Some people are shy; they want to say something nice, supportive, complimentary, etc., but they don’t wish to give themselves away. I have had some incredibly lovely comments from nameless, faceless individuals, and I often wonder who they are.

Case in point: I received this comment last month, and I keep coming back to it. It makes me smile when I’m down. It tickles and flatters me. And I can’t help but wish I knew who wrote it.

What is it about you that causes men to connect with a woman who is feisty, kittenish, mischievous, bright, articulate, and–most of all–a person who exacts respect for femininity?

Whoever you are, know that you made my day, and several more after that, with this brief missive. Thank you.

Have a great rest of your week/weekend, y’all. Wish me luck!

"This is mine"

Tonight, ST came over to give me my pre-BBW warm-up. Of course, he teased me, saying he was going to give me enough for two weeks, since I won’t see him next Monday, and if I was still sore when we left for Atlantic City, oh well! But I knew he wouldn’t do that. 🙂

It was delicious to laugh and play after feeling so sad last week. My mood is shifting and I can feel the excitement (and nervousness) building. Tomorrow, the crazies really strike, with all the errands and chores and odds and ends I have to take care of in the next two days. But tonight, it was all about giving myself over for a couple of hours.

About halfway through the scene, when I’d gone past the smart-ass stage and was quieter and more compliant, ST said, out of nowhere, “I want to make sure you don’t forget me in the next two weeks.”

As if! “I could never forget you,” I murmured into the bedspread.

“Well, I’m making sure that you won’t. After all, you’ll be off in Atlantic City, playing with all the tops… I don’t mind. The others can play with you. But this,” he caressed my behind, “this pretty bottom is mine. I want it back. You’re going to bring it back to me, aren’t you.”

You know, from a stranger, hearing that would make me feel like a disembodied ass. But from him? Damned if it wasn’t the hottest thing. I just about dissolved into the comforter in a puddle of girl goo, as Danny used to say.

“Yes. I promise.”

He let me choose the implement for the finale. Feeling mushy, I said there could only be one choice — the heart-shaped paddle he made for me.

Stupid, stupid me. A little sweet-talk and I lose my mind. Wait, there’s more. He let me choose the number, too. Said it could be anywhere between seven and 900. (!!!) So I could have picked eight, right?

Nah. I said 30. Like I said, blame it on temporary insanity.

Later, we watched the two clips that Lily sent me. I noticed he took off his glasses to view the computer screen, and commented that he looks very different without them. I like his glasses; I think they’re sexy in a Clark Kent-ish sort of way.

“Do they make me look smart and studious?” he asked, slipping them back on.

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Wrong thing to say. Round Two. Fortunately for me, all the toys were still in the bedroom and we were now in the living room.

Still hurt like @#$%, though!

“Have you learned your lesson?” Tops and their inane questions. But I figured it was in my best interest to say yes, so I did.

He didn’t pull me back up. “Would you say you’ve seen the light?”

WTF?? Before I could answer, I felt something gently nudge between the tops of my thighs, at the base of my cheeks. “What the hell is that?” I screeched. “Don’t move,” he said, and fired up the camera again.

What is it about my ass and lights?

I told him he’s a very disturbed individual. I’m quite fond of him, despite that. Or perhaps because of it.

I’ll miss seeing him next Monday. But I’ll be back… and so will he.

Some disjointed thoughts on a Friday

I’m all over the place today, but perhaps another post will help me collect my thoughts a bit.

Yesterday was a wasted day. I barely left my computer from morning until evening after reading about Jonathan Frid. Cyberville exploded with the news, with Twitter chirping and tribute blogs and posts rolling in by the hour. I was busy commenting and commiserating and the day slipped away, until I found myself in the evening, my eyes swollen shut, my head aching. I hadn’t gotten to the gym, but I managed to wrench myself away from the computer and exercised with my weights for an hour. It helped.

The Internet is amazing. The camaraderie one can feel, connecting with like-minded people from all over, instantly, sharing experiences and thoughts. Years ago, when John Lennon was killed, I remember sitting home alone crying, feeling lost and sad and disconnected, wanting so much to talk with someone who felt like I did but not knowing who that might be. Yesterday, thousands of Dark Shadows fans connected, and it was so gratifying.

I know most of you aren’t interested in this, but if you’d like to read a particularly lovely and well-written tribute, go here. This woman could have been speaking for me.

LokiDarksong posted this for me on his FetLife page yesterday. Of course, I asked for the link, so I could post it myself:

Sorry, Johnny Depp. But to paraphrase Lloyd Bentsen: Barnabas Collins was a friend of ours, and you’re no Barnabas Collins.

Wanna know just how upset I’ve been? On Wednesday evening, Lily Starr sent me RapidShare links to two of my three clips for her. I downloaded them and planned to watch them yesterday. As of this writing, I still haven’t watched them. This is unheard of, people. Perhaps I will watch them today. But if not, they will keep. I’m just not in a spanky mood.

That said, I am grateful that if this had to happen, it happened this week and not next! Good lord, this would have trashed me for BBW. Just writing that makes me feel incredibly obsessive and silly, but it is what it is.

But life goes on, and it’s getting closer. Today, I booked our shuttle from the hotel to the airport on Monday after the party. Thanks to Sarah Thorne, we have a ride from the airport to the hotel on Thursday; I look forward to meeting her and her hubby. 

On happy notes: 1) I got Chrossed today, despite all my melancholy posts this week. And 2) Alex Reynolds wrote a blog about our visit a couple of weeks ago, here. She had been posting about her vacation to L.A. in parts, and when she posted Part 2, I teasingly wrote on her FetLife page: “Where’s the one with ME in it, dammit?” So today, she wrote on my wall, linking me to Part 4 and saying, “Here’s the one with you in it, dammit!” LOL  Anyway… I read it, and it started those damned waterworks going again. But in a good way, this time. Thank you, sweet girl. I’m really, really touched.

Would you believe that just this minute, I finally got that freaking phone delivered? Guess I’d better get myself to Verizon so I can get it activated and all that good stuff. Better late than never.

Thanks for bearing with me, everyone. I promise next week, no more sad stuff. Just lots of excited, back-on-topic stuff about Boardwalk Badness! 

Have a great weekend, y’all.

OT; RIP, Jonathan Frid

Yesterday’s news of Dick Clark made me a bit wistful and nostalgic. But today’s news has me flat-out bawling like a baby.

Jonathan Frid, the man who made a daytime Gothic serial vampire into an icon, passed away last Friday, April 13. His family just released the news today.

You all know how I feel about Dark Shadows. And yes, I can step back enough to see how utterly silly it is to weep copiously over the passing of a soap-opera actor. The way I’m carrying on, you’d think John himself had died. But I can’t help it. I knew this day was coming; he was 87, after all. And looked very feeble when I saw him at the Dark Shadows convention in 2010. But I didn’t know it would hurt this much.

There was something so comforting about just knowing he was still out there, even though the show has been off the air since 1971. It still exists on video, in its living actors and in the hearts of its many fans. The passing of the actor who played the character Barnabas Collins feels like the death of a loved one.

Jonathan Frid saved Dark Shadows from cancellation. It floundered in its first year, originally conceived as a Gothic mystery, minus the horror. The vampire Barnabas was brought in as a last-ditch attempt to bump up the ratings; he was intended to be a temporary character, pure evil, who would wreak havoc and then be killed off. But Frid’s portrayal of him was so rich and complex, the fans went insane. And Barnabas remained, becoming an anti-hero of sorts, a reluctant vampire, hating what he was, mourning for his lost love and always hoping for a cure from the curse that befell him in the late 1700s.

Just a sampling of the myriad clips out there, a nice montage of Barnabas’s first appearance, when grave-robber Willie Loomis released him from his chained coffin. I like this one; it really captures the creepy air and tension of the show:

Actress Kathryn Leigh Scott, Maggie Evans/Josette on the series, author of several Dark Shadows books and a regular in the conventions, wrote a beautiful tribute to Frid on her blog, here. She is on Twitter, and a couple of weeks ago, to my utter glee, I discovered she was following me. I tweeted directly to her this morning, expressing condolences for the loss of her friend and colleague. She actually tweeted back to me, saying thank you. What a gracious woman.

Scott and Frid, 1967:

Now, because it’s my blog and I can, I’m going to indulge in a bit of bitchiness. Next month, the Tim Burton/Johnny Depp remake of Dark Shadows will premiere in theaters. I’ll spare you my ongoing rant about what they’ve done to it; suffice it to say Burton has re-imagined it as a campy spoof, and Johnny Depp has taken Frid’s suave, charismatic character and made him into a clown and a freak.

Ugh. Anyway, behind my tears, a small part of me is smiling at the irascible and irreverent Jonathan Frid and his timing. His passing, a scant month before this mockery appears, seems like the ultimate “fuck you.” If the DS fans were going to hate this film before, they’re really going to hate it now.

I know this blog won’t appeal to my usual readers. But please indulge me today. And please, please don’t laugh at me.

RIP, Mr. Frid, the one and only Barnabas Collins.

EDIT: For another lovely Frid tribute blog from “one of us,” please see my dear friend Dave Wolfe’s blog, here.

EDIT #2: Just read this and it made me laugh out loud, which felt good. I do believe this will be my favorite Jonathan Frid quote ever.

In 1991, on the 20th anniversary of the TV show’s demise, Frid told PEOPLE: “I only did the part for some pocket money to go teach on the West Coast. And, of course, because I didn’t particularly want the job, I got it. An audition room full of cadaverous-looking creeps, and I must have really looked the part.” 

He added, “I always thought I looked like this damn silly ass. I couldn’t believe people were ever really scared.”

America’s Oldest Living Teenager…

… is no longer. Dick Clark passed away today, at age 82.

Yeah, I know. There is probably at least one generation out there saying, “Who’s Dick Clark?” (sigh) But to many of us, he was an institution. As long as I can remember, the man has been everywhere.

I don’t remember ever watching American Bandstand, although I was certainly aware of it. Clark began hosting it in 1956, I believe, and it went on, what, forever? Into the 80s? I do remember hearing his radio show, “Rock, Roll and Remember,” for a long time. And I definitely remember watching him on the game show Pyramid (started as $10,000 Pyramid and then the grand prize increased over the years). His standard sign-off was a salute to the camera and “This is Dick Clark… for now, so long.”

Oh, he also hosted a TV Bloopers show for a while. I loved those. And of course, there was his New Year’s Rockin’ Eve countdown show. Like I said, the man was everywhere.

When I heard the news this afternoon, I had a vague memory of hearing my father talk about DC, maybe 30-35 years ago? Anyway, he met with him for some showbiz reason, but I can’t remember what it was. For grins, he got me an autographed picture. I went digging through a drawer, and lo and behold:

I unearthed another fun memory while I was digging around in there. When I was 11 years old, Dad went to England for six months to write for Tom Jones’s variety show. While he was there, I wrote him letters, and one time I included a letter to Mr. Jones, saying how much I liked the show and asking for an autographed photo. Such a pre-adolescent crush I had on him! 

Look what I found!

How cool is that? Sadly, that picture he sent is long gone; it went missing years ago. But it’s still fun to have the letter.

OK, lest I get in weepy nostalgia mode, change of subject. Some are asking if I got my new phone yet. That was briefly delayed. I went to Verizon yesterday, all ready to buy, but I was derailed from the getgo. First, the saleperson I’d spoken to at length on Friday wasn’t there, and I had to start all over again with someone new, who felt the need to give me a lot of spiel about alternative products. He went in a completely different direction — suggested that I stick to a regular cell phone and get a tablet instead. I don’t want a freaking tablet! When I finally convinced him that I’d made up my mind, he did spend several minutes with me, demonstrating the phone and some of the features. Then it was time to buy… and they were out of stock on the phone. @#$%!

He ordered it and it should be FedExed to me tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Damn. Nothing about spanking in this post, is there. Well, just to stay topical — for those of you who enjoy the facial-expression photos, here’s a fun screen grab from one of the Spanking Court clips, which I found on The Spanking Spot. Quite authentic too, I can assure you!

One more week until BBW. My nervous breakdown is due any minute.

So long, Dick Clark.

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