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 category “heat”

Jillian’s Latest, and Mine Too

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.

Look up in the sky!

It’s the Summer Solstice! If you go outside, you can see the rare Strawberry Moon!

Or, you can just look in my living room.

StrawberryMoon

 

Yeah, it’s cheesy. I suck at photo effects. But it’s the first thing I thought of when I heard the term “strawberry moon.” I’m sure I’m not the only spanko who did.

In other news… today, my chiropractor was saying how well trained his dog is, how she never has an accident in the house, no matter what. He doesn’t have a doggie door, and he comes home periodically during the workday to relieve her; she always waits. I was properly impressed, and he said, “Yeah, that’s what beating with a belt will do.” I calmly replied, “You don’t do that,” and he said, “Of course I don’t.” I then added, “Belts are for consenting adults, not dogs.”

He laughed. I wish I could have seen his face, but I was face down at the time.

Yes, I’m going to hell. Wait, scratch that. It was 112 #$%&ing degrees today. I am in hell.

Steve tomorrow. Not a moment too soon, I’d say.

I am, therefore I bitch

Or is it the other way around? Whatever. I don’t care.

Cosmopolitan magazine (yes, I read Cosmo, shut up) has a regular feature they call “Bitch It Out!”, in which they invite their readers to vent their frustrations, aggravations and complaints. Not because they can do anything about them, but because they recognize sometimes it feels good to blow off steam and just maybe, others out there will relate to you. I rather like this idea, so I’m going to indulge in a bit of bitching myself. And after that, I’m opening the floor. Someone pee in your Wheaties? Having a suckfest of a day? Let go of it here! Have fun with it. You’ll feel better, I promise.

I hate the dentist. No, not my dentist, personally. He’s a decent chap. But I hate going to the damn dentist. I don’t like people poking around in my mouth. I don’t like having my jaw wedged open until it feels like it’s going to lock in that position. I really, really don’t like that nasty, poky little implement that scrapes and scrapes and scrapes. I hate the taste of that stupid numbing agent that’s supposed to make me not feel the needle, but I do anyway (and I hate the needle too). I hate the sound of the drill and the smell of teeth being pulverized by it. And you know what I hate more than any of that? How @#$%ing much it costs for the dubious pleasure of all this torture.

I had my annual dental exam today. I get my teeth cleaned twice a year and I observe all the proper oral hygiene, so my teeth are generally in decent shape. But when I was younger I wasn’t as conscientious, so I have a mouthful of crowns and fillings. Only one root canal, though. So far.

Last year, I got a clean bill of health after the x-rays and exam, and I exhaled in gratitude, realizing I hadn’t taken a breath in the past 45 minutes. Today, I wasn’t so lucky. Triple whammy… An old crown needs replacing, as well as a very old filling, plus I have a tiny new cavity. Fun fun fun! Dear teeth: You suck. So I had to make an appointment for two fillings and a crown; I am NOT doing this before the Shadow Lane party, so I scheduled it for the Tuesday after I come home. What the hell, I’ll be dealing with post-party drop anyway. Might as well throw in mouth pain and get it all over with at once.

The cost of today’s exam and the upcoming work? $1,145. And that is with dental insurance. What the hell are they putting in my teeth, platinum?

Funny thing about checking accounts — they don’t self-replenish. You have to actually have some work to do, earn some money and deposit it. Not much of that going on around here. So you’d think my damn teeth would cooperate and stay healthy, but noooooooo. Blech. Nothing I can do about it, though. I’m rather attached to my teeth, so I gotta do what I gotta do.

It was 108 degrees here today, at least that’s what my car’s temp gauge read on the way home. Have I mentioned lately how much I detest the heat? I don’t even feel like playing, which would probably do me a world of good. Ever notice how extremes in temperature either way are not conducive to spanking? If it’s too cold, you want to stay bundled up, not remove layers of clothing. And when it’s this hot, the last thing you feel like doing is exerting yourself. This afternoon, I sat in my computer chair and thought, “I’m hungry. I’m hungry. I’m hungry.” However, it took me nearly an hour to go get something to eat. Why? It seemed like too damn much effort to get up and walk into the kitchen. So forget spanking. Six swats in and I’m breaking a sweat. And don’t give me this baloney about how women don’t sweat, they glow and look dewy. I’m not a freaking Southern magnolia blossom. I sweat.

It was a crappy day. Not a heartbreaking day, not a tragic day, not an earth-shattering day… just enough to make me cranky as hell. Forgive me and thank you for listening. But I’m all about equal opportunity.

So, something have you cranked out of shape? Share! Bitch it out. I feel so much better.

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