Anniversary weekend

On Sunday, 8/30, John and I will have been together for 19 years. So of course, we’re going to celebrate all weekend. I think this anniversary is particularly special, as I could have lost him this year. But despite the hellacious months we went through, he fought and he got through it. He is still healing, and he still faces another couple of (relatively minor) surgeries. But overall, he is so much better.

No big plans, just a nice dinner out tomorrow and hanging out. It’s going to be triple digits this weekend; therefore, staying indoors with A/C is top priority!

So, my beloved, my partner, my sweetie — I ♥ you! Happy 19th, and may we have many more.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Jenga — my way

Anyone ever play Jenga? For those who aren’t familiar, it’s a tower of 54 rectangular blocks that interlock in a particular pattern, and you play by choosing a block at a time, pulling it out, and placing it on top of the tower, which gets more precarious as more blocks come out. The game ends when the tower collapses.

What does this have to do with anything, you’re asking. With Shadow Lane approaching, there’s been talk about party games and events, and it reminded me of a spanking version of Jenga that I’d played years ago.

Someone (I don’t remember who) had taken each Jenga block and written some sort of instruction on it, all spanking-related. Things like “Five hand swats” or “Three strikes with the paddle.” Each person, after removing a block, would read what was written on it, and then would either give or receive the designated strokes. Sometimes you got a free pass, or you got to choose someone else to take your swats; it was rather creative. But… it was also lame. Five? Three? BO-RING! I wanted more action! Plus, I suck at this sort of game; I get nervous and my hands shake. I was never good at Blockhead! as a kid, either.

So, when several others had had their turn and it was now mine, I studied the tower for a moment, then said, “What happens if I do this?” And I swept my hand dramatically across the tower and sent the blocks flying all over the room.

Oh, she did not do that. Yes, I did.

Much spanking ensued, way more than three or five swats. As I recall, implements were involved. That’s how I play Jenga. 😀

And speaking of games — anyone ever play Spankopoly? Now that looks creative. (Yes, I know it’s hard to read what’s in the squares. If you click on the picture, a slightly clearer version comes up. It’s worth the effort.)

Erica’s party rules

So, the Shadow Lane party in Vegas is upon us in a little over a week, and FetLife is all a-flurry with introductions and networking and pre-party information. All good. Also prevalent is the usual list of behaviors and suggestions for having a good party, for what to do/what not to do, etc. All very good. Party veterans take the time to share their tips for how to maximize the party experience, what pitfalls to avoid, what is considered good spank-fest etiquette (and what isn’t), and so forth. I have done this myself.

However, this year, I am short on time and on patience. Between the stress of dealing with fraudulent activity on my checking account, the extreme heat, the stock market, way too many people acting like dicks on FetLife, and fretting about/missing Steve, I’m simply not my usual benevolent self.

(Taking a pause while you all choke on your beverages.)

Therefore, I am simplifying. Want more detailed tips? There are many to be found, and I suggest you read any and all you can. And please don’t take me too seriously, because I’m doing this with tongue firmly embedded in face cheek. But really, no matter what you read, it all boils down to Three Simple Rules.

1. Be nice (polite, warm, friendly, insert your favorite positive word here).
2. Don’t be a douche.
3. If you really don’t know the difference between being nice et al. and being a douche, then try this: If what you’re doing isn’t working for you, try the opposite.

So there you have it, kids. Short and to the point, didn’t make your eyes glaze over, didn’t make you feel like you have to read an Emily Post tome on etiquette. Just remember this: At a spanking party, masochism is welcome. Massengill is not.

(And seriously — have a good time. If you see me there, do say hello; I’ll be nice, I promise. 🙂 )

“My First Spanking” anthology now available

Writer, editor and kinkster Cassandra Park has compiled a collection of stories by eleven authors, entitled “My First Spanking,” with eleven unique takes on the subject. I’m very proud to have been one of the contributors.

This anthology is now for sale in both print here and Kindle version here. Please check it out! It’s a lot of fun and you get to sample many different writing styles.

If you’d like to read an excerpt of my story “Just Ask Me,” Cassandra has posted one here. 🙂

And, as always, if you read the book and like it, be sure to give Cassandra a nice review on Amazon, and pass the word on. I’m excited; Cassandra will be at Shadow Lane with print copies, having a book signing.

Ye gods, Shadow Lane is in two weeks… let the panic begin! I’ve been so busy working and stressing about other trivial crap like money and health issues, I haven’t had time to fret about what I’m going to wear and how many pairs of panties to bring and who will/won’t be there and so on and so forth. As much as I hate change, this is one thing I do wish would change: the way I stress out, year after year, before this party! (sigh) Oh well. All will get done, as ever.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

More changes

Have I mentioned lately how fucking much I hate change? And uncertainty. I seem to have both in abundance lately.

I don’t want to give away too much of Steve’s private affairs, so I will keep this brief. He is having to close down a business that he has owned and operated for the past eighteen years. He has also recently become an empty nester, so he’s rattling around in a large house he can no longer afford. So… he has to find a new career, and a new place to live. All up in the air right now. Starting over is never easy for anyone, but at age 57, it’s especially challenging. So I am worried about him.

John continues to heal, but he still has a lot of stuff to deal with. He’s still on a gazillion medications and he still has a lot of doctor appointments. In the reasonably near future, he will need two more surgeries: one on his prostate and one on his shoulder. He still has the a-fib and has to take the blood thinners, and now the cardiologists are making noises about putting in a pacemaker. He has made a lot of great strides in the past few months, but he’s a long way from having a clean bill of health. So I am worried about him too.

You know how in recent years, people have taken a hit on some of their investments? Me too. I am not going to go into any more details about that, but suffice it to say that my retirement future is no longer as secure as I once thought it was. I need to work more, quite a bit more. More changes, more uncertainty. And of course, I know what some people are thinking: Marry John! You guys have been together for 19 years (yes, but we’ve never lived together). If I moved into John’s house, and was added to his group health insurance at work, I could save about $2000 a month right there. Only one little problem: I’d rather take a Seconal cocktail and sign off than do that. I don’t want to be married, and John’s place is nice to visit, but I absolutely do not want to live there. I need my place, my space, my autonomy. Without that, my life is worth little to me. Meanwhile, I need new glasses, my car is getting older, I really should get a laptop or a notebook so I can take work with me to John’s or other places when I’m out and about, I need this, I need that… the list is endless. The money, however, is disturbingly finite.

So. I’m worried about me too.

Even my beloved scene is changing, and I’m struggling with that as you all know. Going to Shadow Lane in two weeks, and honestly, after that whole “purist” debacle on FetLife recently, I’m a little nervous about what’s ahead there. That one malcontent bully there made her contempt for me very publicly known. But are there others who are silently judging me? Friendships are changing. Everything is changing!! Hell, even John’s and my favorite restaurant, our go-to for birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day for years and years, closed. Can something remain stable and reliable, please??

Today, in the midst of his life being turned upside down, Steve came over for two hours. For that brief time, we were each other’s oasis, one another’s respite. It had been two weeks and we were craving our connection, that symbiotic top/bottom connection. It sounds ridiculous, but receiving that spanking was like getting oxygen. For that little while, my nattering head shut down and I just felt his energy, his hand, his power. I absorbed him like a sponge. Afterward, I clung to him hard, not wanting to let him go. But I had to, and I knew that. He has a lot to handle right now. I need to be a rock for him, as he as for me. The good news is, unlike me, Steve is a very positive and upbeat person. He is a survivor. He doesn’t go to the dark side. So he’s amazingly chipper, considering.

Yeah, I know. Life is about change. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, goddammit!

Enough of that. Back to work for me — and damn grateful I have it.

Pedantic semantics

(I’m sure I’ve talked about this before at some point, but since it’s one of my myriad pet peeves, it came up again recently.)

So John and I are watching West Side Story this weekend. Can you believe the man has never seen that movie in its entirety? OK, I can forgive Gen Xers and Gen Ys, because it’s an older film, but anyone in John’s and my generation has no excuse; it’s a must-see classic. It won ten Oscars, including Best Picture. OK, if you hate musicals, I guess that’s sort of an excuse, but still… He knew the plot and some of the songs, at least.

Anyway, so there’s a scene when Riff and the Jets are at the local hangout and the Sharks come to meet with them. Riff sends his girlfriend out with a single swat to her butt. John turned to me and said, “Did he just spank her?”

Well, technically, no. He gave her a single swat. Or smack, or slap, or whatever. But he didn’t spank her. Spanking someone is multiple slaps, not just a single one. According to the Erica dictionary, anyway.

If someone says, “I’m going to spank you,” what does he/she then do? I can guaran-damn-tee they don’t give the recipient one smack on the behind and then go back to what they were doing. (Hasn’t been my experience, anyway)

So if Riff had indeed spanked Graziella, he would have bent her over his knee, or over the bar, and delivered a volley of swats. Not sent her out the door with a single smack. Really, honey, get your terminology straight.

Oh, and as long as I’m being picky, it sounds kind of asinine to say, “I gave her a spank.” You don’t give a spank. You spank, or you give a spanking. Got it? OK.

(Yes, it’s pedantic. And just how many of you out there reading nodded your heads? 🙂 )

On a completely different note: As many on the blogosphere know, Pandora Blake has been fighting against the ATVOD rulings about what is “inappropriate” on video, and they are shutting down her Dreams of Spanking site. However, her wonderful collection of videos is still available for sale at her Clips4Sale store. Please support this brave woman and check out her video library here.