Time flies…
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.
I get by…
…with a little help from my friends.
Hey, that’s catchy. Someone ought to set that to music sometime.
This happened a couple of weeks ago, but due to what was going on in the country, I figured I’d postpone it for a while.
We all know the spanking scene is a mixed bag. But one of the things I’ve always loved over the years is the solidarity many of us share. We have each other’s back(sides). And sometimes, it’s not just about playful bratting or what have you. Sometimes, the subjects are serious.
About 3 1/2 years ago, a friend of mine wrote a post on FetLife. In it, she took a bold stance: she stated that she would not play with anyone who is a Trump supporter. She listed her reasons why; it was a well-written, detailed post, no name-calling, just stating her position and why.
As you can imagine, the comments flowed. Some were supportive. Some were neutral. And of course, many others were nasty. I felt like I wanted to do something to support her, so people would see she’s not alone in this stance.
So I posted this picture:
I said I was doing this in solidarity with [her name], and I made it my avatar. Aaaaand the comments rolled in. Most were supportive. But of course, some were nasty.
And then, much to my delight, the incomparable Michael Masterson posted this picture:
He captioned it with “In support of my girl Erica Scott, who has the courage to make her voice heard, I offer you this.” My comment? “I love you, Mike.”
(Sorry about the editing, but the pic was a bit too gynecological. I figured it took away from the message.)
Anyway, cut to the present. I decided it was time to dump the old avatar and put up a new picture. So I chose this one from the end of 2019 (because 2020 was sadly lacking in play).
What is it we FetLife veterans know? No matter what kind of picture you put up, some people aren’t going to like it. And some people won’t hesitate to let you know they don’t like it, and why. You’re wearing panties. You’re not wearing panties. You’re too heavy, you’re too thin, you’re too old, you’re too young, etc. etc. The picture is too graphic. The picture isn’t graphic enough. And of course, one of my favorites: if it shows the results of a spanking, you get the ‘I could have done a better job’ comments.
Sure enough, the picture wasn’t up five minutes when I got this right off the bat:
Not red or bruised enough… just saying. 😉 😉
Really?? And is the “wink, wink” supposed to make it okay?
I mean, come on. If you’re of the persuasion of preferring more graphicly walloped bottoms, you have thousands to choose from on FetLife. Knock yourself out. Go look at the pictures of butts that look like they were pounded with a meat cleaver and then thrown on a barbecue grill, and have a wank-fest. Why bother stopping to comment on mine if you don’t like it?
Sheesh. I hadn’t put up a new picture on Fet in ages, and right out of the gate, I hear from the basement critics. But I didn’t want to start a thing on FetLife, so I didn’t reply to the comment. However, I did go on Twitter and grouse about it, saying that I really wanted to answer, “Who the fuck asked you?” but I’d refrain.
Next thing I knew, my buddy Sarah (not Gregory; a different Sarah I’ve mentioned on here, she of the full-body tackle hugs at parties) tweeted to me: “Allow me… BRB.” And within a minute, I saw I had a notification on Fet of a new comment. I went to look, and nearly fell on the floor.
Below the guy’s comment, Sarah had typed:
[His name]: Who the fuck asked you? 😉 😉
But wait, there’s more: Within minutes, the guy commented back to her. I braced myself for some vitriol, figuring I’d have to step in at some point. But all he wrote was:
Good comment. 🙂
Well, how about that. I chose to interpret that as saying, “Yeahhhh, you’re right, I guess that was kind of a dumb thing to say.” No harm done. And the picture got a lot more attention after that. Sarah, you really do rock. 😀
Not that I spend much time on FetLife these days, anyway. I’m usually there to network about parties, or post about scenes I’ve had. And what with Covid, there’s been none of that. Still… it’s nice to know your friends still look out for you. ♥ I miss everyone so much. The February party has already been canceled, but we are hoping for Labor Day.
Final note: Regarding this week’s momentous occasion, I will say just one thing and then leave it alone.
Four years ago, my stepmother, then 85 and in poor health, was in complete despair over Trump’s presidency. She wrote to me: “I was born during one the country’s darkest times [the Great Depression], and I’m probably going to die during another one.” That broke my heart. I was afraid she wouldn’t stick around; that she’d get so despondent, she’d give up and stop fighting.
Yesterday, she emailed me and said, among other things, “After Biden’s speech, I broke down and sobbed like a child.” She’s now 89. But she’s still with me. She made it. She hung in there long enough to watch us all come out the other side. And I’m so very grateful. It sickened me to the core that the Honorable Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg didn’t live to see this, but damn, this sure helps soothe that pain.
That’s all, folks. Have a great weekend. Stay safe.
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