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 “nerves”

Pre-party warm-up, Part 1 and 2

Before I get into anything else — yesterday was John’s and my 20th anniversary. We met on Friday, August 30, 1996… it’s been one hell of a twenty years, filled with love and loss and discovery and heartbreak and joy and all the things that make up a relationship. I love you, John. ‚ô•

See my pretty anniversary roses?

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So on to Part 1 — now that it’s done, I can talk about it. I shot video with Alex and Paul on Monday! Every time I think I’m retired, someone decides I’m not. ūüôā Another one of Alex’s clients wanted a custom video, but this one was much simpler and shorter, no script, and included the three of us. First time Alex and I have ever been spanked together on video, even though we’ve been friends for years. So much fun! Plus, since they had me there, they’d decided to shoot two more clips with me for Northern Spanking’s site. Alex’s long-time friend Rafi was handling the camera, so we were in good hands.

For the custom clip, Alex provided a dress for me, since she knew exactly what her client had in mind. For another, she gave me cute blue silk PJs, and for the third, I wore my own dress. All three scenarios were high-energy, and they were done quickly. I got there at 4:30, and we were done shooting three clips at 6:30! I hung out there until about 7:15; they were all going to dinner, but I regretfully had to pass on that, as I needed to get back home and do some work.

Sorry, no pictures yet, but I’m sure there will be some soon! Meanwhile, I got a nice warm-up for the party, what with Paul’s three hand spankings plus a nice little belt thrashing at the end of the third clip. I ‚ô• Alex and Paul!

Part 2 — yesterday, Steve came over for the first time in three weeks. We had planned it to be just a visit, no play, as I was short on time, plus he had pulled a back muscle backpacking the week before. However, as we sat on the couch chatting away and I got to talking about the shoot, I mentioned how Alex had taken a selfie of the two of us before I left. It was outdoors, and close up, and I hated how I looked in it. There she was, her face smooth and fresh and perfect… and then there I was, looking tired, with bags under my eyes. Ugh ugh ugh. I looked like her grandmother. Yes, people, I Photoshop my face pictures, a little. Mostly to wipe out the eye bags/crinkles; what can I say, I’m vain. But when I showed the photo to Steve, he scoffed and said he thought I looked beautiful. I pooh-poohed his compliment, said he was prejudiced, and he had a thing for old ladies.

His demeanor changed. “I want you over my knee, right now,” he said.

“Steve, your back!” I protested. “Come on.”

“Over my knee, right now,” he repeated.

“No!” I insisted.

“‘No’ is not an option. Now.”

He was serious. Well, how could I argue with that? He hates it when I put myself down.

Just a little taste, he said. To tide me over until Friday. Just enough for a little warmth and color.

(Ha! I’ve been editing books written by British authors and I almost typed “colour.”)

But I digress… (and no, this isn’t Photoshopped)

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Off he went shortly thereafter and I was back to work. I’m finally catching up — I’m down to my last work assignment and should have that done by tonight.

So the countdown commences. Clearly, I am nervous. Last week, I had three red blotches on the left side of my face, along my jaw, and I thought something had bitten me. But this week, my right cheek has two more puffy red welts and there’s a third¬†next to my right eyebrow. Stress hives… It’s so much fun being me, kids. I ran out last night to get some Zyrtec (antihistamine) and today the three blotches are red dots, so they should be okay by Friday. Meanwhile, my computer is straggling along — I’m having my hard drive replaced sometime after I get home — and my landline isn’t working, so I have to deal with AT&T after I get home as well. But all will melt away and disappear once we’re on our way to Vegas.

Off to the gym for my last pre-party workout, and then home to… what else… work! Happy Hump Day.

Last minute check…

Lots and lots and lots of panties? Check. The rest is unimportant.

Kidding! Please. Clothes¬†are very important. As are shoes,¬†makeup, hair products. Oh, and snacks. This is the luxury of driving instead of flying — I can overpack. And I do. Then again, so does John. So we come straggling into the Suncoast looking like we’re going to stay there for two weeks instead of three days. Because we can!

I hope this will be a good party; it seems like many are coming, including a lot of newbies. I am so looking forward to seeing my friends. I want to play, but honestly, that is secondary. I’m craving the camaraderie and the special oneness I feel when I’m surrounded by fellow spankos. So many people, so little time.

We even got a decent car at the rental place this time. One of the managers took care of me, and he had to keep me waiting about 10-15 minutes, which I did patiently. He was so grateful for that (apparently, others had been cranky) that he gave me an upgrade in the car, and it had a full tank of gas (they almost never do). And he told me I don’t have to bring it back full, just half a tank. So off we go in a brand new Honda Sonata. Why do we rent a car? Because I don’t want to put the wear and tear on my older car, and it’s nice to know if anything should happen to the rental, we just bring it back and forget about it. Hoping, as I do every year, that the traffic cooperates and we get there in one piece.

A lot of people are already there, and FetLife and Twitter have been a-buzz with early party chitchat. Last night, I got a text from one of my favorite friends/playmates: “I’m coming for you, little girl. Expect to be taken sometime tomorrow night after I arrive.”¬†Well now! Brrrrrr. That kicked the butterflies into high gear!

On a more serious note, I think both John and I need this getaway. This is the first time we’re doing anything like this since his surgery, and he feels like he is well up for it, for which I am grateful. As for me, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks. Between having my checking account compromised and dealing with the hassles of closing it and opening a new one, losing my iPod and my sunglasses (found them both, though! after a lot of stress), and a leaky pipe that spread a massive water stain above my bed (I now have two large holes in my ceiling, which can’t be patched/painted until everything dries out), and no Steve, I am more than ready to get the hell outta here for a while!

Oh… and did I mention that I will be shooting? Yup. ūüėÄ ¬†More on that when I come back. Hopefully with pictures.

Everyone have a safe, happy holiday weekend, OK? Will talk to you on the flip side.

Nerves

The pre-party buzz has been happening for a while now, and with the Shadow Lane party in less than two weeks, it’s kicking into high gear. As are my nerves.

You know, I annoy the hell out of myself. I’ve been going to these things since 1997. J is with me, so I’m never alone. I have friends there; I’m not walking into a room filled with strangers. I know the drill at these things, I know how to find room parties, I know what to bring, I know what to expect (more or less). I love spanking and lots of it. So why am I still nervous after all this time?

Can’t help it. I just am. I’m a skittish cat, as J calls me. No matter how many times I do this, I’m going to be nervous about it.

Part of it is the smorgasbord effect. I don’t play that often anymore on my own, for various reasons. There are many friends and spankers whom I don’t get to see, except for at these parties. So after months of starving, I enter this buffet, and I want to cram everything and everyone into a mere 2 1/2 days. And I can very easily end up making myself sick. I want to talk and hug and kiss and laugh and reminisce and play and play and PLAY and I can’t do it all. Especially since, unlike some of my friends, I cannot do without sleep. Erica without sleep is a disaster in the making, a meltdown waiting to happen. If I take time to sleep in, to take naps, etc., I will lose valuable time I could be with friends. But if I don’t, I won’t be worth a damn to those friends anyway.

Part of it is my own fears of not being “enough.” Will I be able to successfully give attention to everyone who desires it from me? And if I don’t, will they be hurt? Pissed off at me? Think I’m a snob? Or worse, God forbid, think I’m a wimp and I can’t take as much as I used to? Yes, I know that last one is stupid. But I reach a point sometime on Sunday where I wish I could just keep going on and on, but my body (particularly my butt) is screaming, “No, no, NO!” And I get frustrated with myself.

And finally, my own personality and nature is at war with itself. We have Erica the attention whore and the insatiable spankee, to whom these parties are as essential as air. Who thrives on the infectious enthusiasm and the sheer joy of these events, coming out of herself and blossoming like a hothouse flower. And then there is the Erica who gets overwhelmed, who doesn’t do well in crowds, who tires and burns out and wants to go hole up and be a quiet little Troglodyte. The quieter, loner side of me is the way I live most of my life day to day. I want to break away from that side for a while, and I do… but then I get tired and it comes back full force.

Yeah, I know you guys go through this with me every freaking time. A few of you get it; probably most of you shake your heads and wonder what my problem is. “What’s she got to be nervous about?” “Snap out of it.” I would love to, believe me. It’s exhausting being so neurotic.

I have two fun events scheduled for this party; I’m fairly positive I’m shooting with Northern Spanking, and I’m doing an interview with Richard Windsor. I don’t know which days or what time I’ll be doing either of these. Many friends are coming, old ones and newer ones, and I’ve already had several people express the desire to spend time with me. Yes, it’s lovely to be wanted! Remember, I’m the girl who still has the pre-party dream where I’m at the SL party and I’m either in the wrong place, or I’m there on the wrong weekend, or I can’t find any of my friends, and I go all weekend without playing with anyone. Yes, I really do have that recurring nightmare. So it makes me very happy that reality is quite different. But it also makes me nervous, wondering how I’m going to fit everyone and everything in.

Believe it or not (I don’t!), I actually got another offer for a video, to shoot with the Strictly Spanking NY people. Their reputation is stellar and I was so honored that they wanted me. However… their shoots are about pure discipline, no banter, no roleplay, just very hard spanking with hand, wooden paddle and a heavy strap. If I were doing this shoot as an isolated occurrence, no question, I’d be up for it. It would be challenging, but I’d want to do it. But during a party weekend, with a dozen or more other spankings? I can’t. I don’t have it in me; it would be too much. I hate that. I wish I could do it all. But I know myself, and I know that I’d be overextending myself if I committed to that on top of everything else I want to do.

How disgustingly ironic that I’m always wishing I could shoot more, and now I have to turn an opportunity down?? Unfortunate timing.

Bless J’s heart, he knows what a freakazoid I am before these things. He’s already listening to my frazzled ravings and telling me how much fun it’s going to be and how I’ll be fine once I get there. Oh, and in his infinite support, he’s endeavoring to “toughen me up” for all the play. Several times this weekend, he was servicing me with one of his two @#$%ing hairbrushes. Thanks a lot, honey. And he wouldn’t stop until I answered the question: “Why am I doing this?”

“Because you’re a jerk?” No.
“Because you’re a sadistic f***?” Wrong answer.
“I don’t know.” Sorry, that’s wrong too.
“OWW!” Nope, try again.
Because you’re prepping me for the party, dammit!!” That’s it! Now how about a thank you?

Arrrrrgggghhh.

I do think he goes too far when he puts that damn thing to my lips so I can kiss it. Today, I blew a big raspberry on it. Miraculously, he didn’t start over; I guess it was too damned hot.

Anyway, it’s late at night and I will probably wake up tomorrow and cringe that I laid my vulnerability and insecurity so bare, but what the hell. We’re all nervous, people. Even the veterans. Cut others some slack, and cut some for yourself too. These parties bring many emotions, desires and awarenesses to bubble right under the surface; it’s no wonder so many of us get a little nuts. I’m saying this more as a reminder to myself, but if it helps anyone else, then excellent. See y’all in a couple of weeks.

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