End-of-year craziness

I have to say 2008 HAS been a pretty good year, overall (20 more days of the Bush Administration!). A few events have taken place recently to put a damper on things. Yesterday my mom broke her leg and was taken to the hospital. At first they thought it was her hip. She simply slipped off the edge of a curb and fell. Luckily, she had just left church and some ladies were nearby to help her; they called the ambulance. Today she has to get surgery to put a pin in. I'm happy it wasn't her hip, but it is her femur and sounds fairly serious. Because she's older and has diabetes, I worry what this means for her future health. She's a very active lady and I hope she can stay that way. We will see her tomorrow morning, probably.

Secondly, both of my cats' health seems to be failing. I took Fat Orange Kitty to the vet last Friday because of what looked like a small tumor on his tail. He also has bad teeth. They did blood work because he was due for it, and found kidney issues. We had to take him back for an ultrasound and other tests on Monday. It's not as bad as they thought, but he probably has a bladder infection (I'm shoving an antibiotic pill into his mouth twice a day now -- those of you who have cats know how it is administering pills).

My other cat, Skinny Black Kitty, seems to be getting skinnier, plus he acts crazy a lot (kitty dementia?) and can't jump that well anymore. He goes to the vet next week for a checkup. We spent a lot of money on Fat Orange Kitty over these two vet visits, and I don't think we can now afford the removal of the small tumor (doc says it's benign) and the dental work. Skinny Black Kitty's visit will set us back another hundred or two, I'm sure. Rad is helping me out with these costs but it's getting crazy.

However, before anyone asks why I'm spending so much on my cats, please know that these have been my "kids" for the last 15 or 16 years. They have been with me through numerous relationships and painful breakups, when I had no one to come home to, and through some very dark times (cats seem to have a way of knowing when you need comforting). They are a pain in the ass, yes. They shed a lot and often leave disgusting messes for us to clean up. But they provide us with hours of affection and amusement (Rad and I like to make up dialogue for them -- strange how they are as cynical as we are). One of my favorite things is to sit on the couch, reading or watching TV, with Fat Orange next to me and Skinny Black on my lap.

I'm sure they will be with us for a while longer, but not too long. I honestly don't know how much we can afford to spend on their health care, in the long run. We'll make each decision as it comes.

I have some New Year's resolutions brewing in my head, which I may blog about later, or tomorrow. I weighed myself today and I lost another 2.4 pounds, so I have just over 5 lbs to go to reach my goal weight. That's not really a resolution, since I've been working on it since October. Tonight we are getting together with a small group of friends to ring in 2009.

Non-sequitor = spanking?

Yesterday Rad was online looking at gadgetry, cell phones specifically. I wasn't paying attention to what he was doing until he complained: "Why is it that the Europeans get all the best stuff and we Americans get the crap?" There was a picture of some fancy cell phone on his computer screen.

Not knowing anything about this issue, and therefore having no intelligent answer, I simply "bratted" him with a complete non-sequitor.

"It must because there aren't enough tummy farts!" I said, quickly yanking up his shirt and blowing a raspberry on his belly. He HATES that. So he gives me the mean daddy look. "Uh oh," I said, but of course I was still laughing.

He grabbed me and bent me over, spanked me really hard over my jeans, then said, "Go stand in the corner!"

I did. Then he came over, grabbed the back of my neck and positioned me so my butt was sticking out more. Then he spanked me again. It got me really turned on...

OK, just thought I'd share.

Christmas passed

So Christmas 2008 is now over. It seemed like a whirlwind two days. Rad and I drove to South Jersey to go to my brother's Christmas Eve party, slept on the sofa bed at my parents' house, visited there for a while Christmas morning, and then went to my other brother's house for brunch. We got back to Queens early yesterday afternoon. (Our cats were alone and needed our attention).

My mom seemed very happy with the necklace I bought her. I got Godiva chocolate-covered popcorn for my dad, plus restaurant gift certificates for both of them. I didn't spend a lot of money this year, but I did bake cookies for all my brothers and sisters. The cookie packages seemed so small after all the work I put in. But that's okay. You do what you can.

Rad bought me a new jewelry box and a beautiful pair of onyx and gold earrings. I bought him the new Ron Suskind book The Way of the World, and a new shirt. We had set limits for each other and we stuck to them; we have to watch our money.

Being with my family was nice. I got to play a few games of ping-pong in my brother's basement, something I hadn't done in a long time. The kids and some of the adults were playing "Guitar Hero," which involves pretending to play along to a music video using guitar, bass, or drums, with one person singing. It was all very loud and sounded pretty bad, but everyone was having fun. I joined in at one point and tried it, singing, "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult. Not a pretty sight. Ping-pong was more fun. That's actually a pretty good workout -- especially if you're chasing the ball around the floor, as was frequently the case.

I ate things I wasn't supposed to eat. The diet didn't hold up very well. Upon our return to Queens, I walked for almost an hour and then did some weight training. Today, I ate in moderation (healthy stuff, no junk) and walked and worked out again.

Now I'm going to relax and take a bath, one of my favorite things to do.

Time flies!

It was our second wedding anniversary today. Won't write too much about this, as my hubby Rad beat me to it earlier. I had a busy day at work and couldn't write till now. Also, sadly, I have caught a cold, so now I'm exhausted.

But, briefly -- after work tonight we went out and had a lovely meal at the Water's Edge restaurant in Queens. Food was delicious, service was fantastic, we had lots of privacy and elbow room. There was a piano player offering up medleys of standards and Christmas tunes, and (maybe the best part) there was a gorgeous view of the night skyline of Manhattan across the East River. I had lamb shank, Rad ordered the sirloin steak, and we allowed ourselves dessert. I worked out earlier today, and will do a longer workout tomorrow to make up for the overindulgence.

It was a very happy evening. I can't believe it has been two years. I really can't see how so much time has gone by since we stood on the altar and exchanged vows. I love that I've finally found someone I can be myself around, someone who makes me laugh almost every day at least once, someone who wants to take care of me as much as I want to take care of him, someone who tolerates my cats AND my mood swings.

Later, back at home, Rad spanked me, and then he gave me a taste of his belt.

Tomorrow we go do family Christmas EVE stuff in Jersey.

Bonus blog -- Crunchy Caramel Apple Cream Pies

To all my dieting friends: I just had to share this recipe -- Crunchy Caramel Apple Cream Pies (second recipe down on the page), from Hungry Girl. I put some together just a little while ago (that's my photo above) and they are delicious, incredibly simple, and only 75 calories for four of them! I highly recommend bringing some of these treats to any party where you're going to be tempted by dessert. Just stick a bunch in your host's freezer until dessert time.

The Hungry-Girl website, by the way, is fantastic. I found out about it after seeing its creator, Lisa Lillien, featured in the January Better Homes and Gardens; Lillien also wrote a recipe book for people who like to eat without gaining weight.

Try it and let me know what you think. Feel free to share your own low-calorie snack and/or holiday survival tip.

A marked woman

I was supposed to go to the doctor's Friday morning for my second post-surgery check-up. I had been worried about some lingering marks from the caning I'd taken almost two weeks ago. The marks were fading. On Wednesday night I checked and I had a few small, light bruises; I don't think anyone would be able to tell what caused them, and I still planned to see the doctor and pretend nothing was up. Still, I didn't REALLY want my doctor seeing anything. So I said to myself, maybe Arnica will help. I have some in the medicine cabinet.

I've used Arnica in the past. It's supposed to help prevent or minimize bruising after a scene. But I haven't been very consistent with using it, so I can't say with any certainty that “yes, it works,” or “no, it doesn't.” I have heard that you should use it right away, but I figured even this late in the game it couldn't hurt -- it would either help, or I'd still have the small marks. I applied some on Thursday morning.

Midday Thursday, I go into the single-stall ladies room at work and check my rear view in the mirror. No way! On each thigh, suddenly I'm seeing four distinct cane lines (yes, you can tell they are lines from a cane -- or something else long and thin). Up to that point they had practically disappeared.

“Great!” I thought. “This is not good!”

There's no way. I simply can't go to the doctor looking like this. I went back to my desk, called and said, “I have to postpone my appointment. We're going to be swamped at work tomorrow.” (It wasn't a lie -- we were going to be busy.)

They gave me a choice of rescheduling for Jan. 8 or 12. I almost picked the 12th, but then I realized, oh no, the Delaware Valley Spanks party is on the 10th. Let's not go through this again! I'm being a good girl and seeing the doctor first before I go play.

Yeah, I know, I could maybe not go to a party for once; take a break. Ha ha ha ha. Right.

Big sloppy mushy day

My commute home took two-and-a-half hours tonight. Wet snow, rain, slush all over the city. The corner of 42nd and 6th was flooded; the puddle was huge and I think everyone had to plunk their feet in it. Not nice. As I was waiting for the bus I heard some over-dramatic little thing scream when she stepped into it. Ha ha.

It was our Christmas party at work, and, I did fairly well with avoiding the "bad" stuff. Naturally, we had temptations all week at the office; various people had sent us treats to share. I avoided the chocolate; did allow myself some crackers and cheese that were part of the gift basket.


At the party, among other things, I had THIS monstrosity to contend with. These were multi-colored chocolate cups, filled with chocolate mousse and decorated with white chocolate shavings on top. They looked SO pretty, so yummy. But I did NOT give in:


I was a good girl, had no bread, no pasta, only meat, veggies, and fruit for dessert. I am not being PERFECT by any means, but I really am trying, in this season of overabundance, to substitute higher-calorie snacks for lower-calorie ones.

Rambling

Just about to head into the city for a doctor's appointment. Took the day off; my last vacation day of the year (still have one or two personal days for emergencies). I took the top photo while I was coming home from a walk yesterday; the sky just seemed so pretty and dark as it neared sunset. A crisp almost winter's day that reminded me of early winters of my youth, when I'd be coming home late after high school band practice, maybe to mom's homemade split pea soup with a big ham bone that had been simmering and thickening for hours. Maybe if I was lucky, a fire would be going in our fireplace. Maybe after homework a bunch of my brothers and sisters would gather and play a board game -- Monopoly, Risk, Life. Maybe it would be Friday and we'd be watching the Brady Bunch.

So, was feeling a little sappy and sentimental. Sometimes memories come up like that.

In another matter: When Rad was packing the toy bag for this weekend's party, he took out this little toy that Richard Windsor had donated as a door prize for last weekend's Strictly Spanking New York party. My number was called; I had the choice between a spanking video and this silly FAO Schwarz paddle. It was so cute I couldn't resist. I have enough spanking videos (well, for now). It has yet to be tested. Looks reasonably thick and solid -- may be one of those goofy-but-painful toys.

Gettin my spank on

My husband Rad and I attended a spanking party last night run by the Manhattan Spanking Association, a group that describes itself as "an accepting, non-judgmental group for those who share an interest in spanking," which, as far as I could tell, means that we're mainly into spanking but a lot of us like other play, too. And which further means that no one cared that I went topless for a very nice flogging from Rad.

Last week I played pretty hard, got nasty canings from Tony and Ian of Florida Moonshine, and a harsh strapping from Rad, and I didn't know I still would have marks a week later. I love my marks, love the mementos, but I have to go to the doctor this week and now I'm worried he will see them. That part of my anatomy will be exposed, unfortunately.

So, to make a long story short, I decided to top more than bottom at this party. I hadn't done this in a while because I hadn't been "in the right head space." I couldn't figure out HOW to get into the right head space, or why I was in the "wrong" head space, but I think I was being a little self-centered, wanting to get MY needs met as a bottom/submissive, and forgetting that I get OTHER needs met when I top.

Also, I was going through this phase where I thought I would be disappointing my bottoms. Can't say exactly where that came from. But I seem to be coming out of it, finally.

It's kind of a rush when a guy lets me take charge. They are all different, of course, but most of those who play are putting themselves under my control. I listen to what their limits are, their likes and dislikes, and then I begin and I assume authority. I don't ASK how they are doing; I spank them the way I want to spank them and I look at their reaction. I scold, and if they are bratty I take that as a cue to crank it up a notch. If they react a different way, and go "little boy/submissive" on me, I go into loving-but-strict mom mode.

I have a reasonably hard hand, and I'll spank for a while with just my hand unless I know up front the guy can take much more. This generally gives me a good feel for the bottom's tolerance. If he's squirming under just my hand I'll continue with just my hand for a while before escalating to something not-so-severe, like a leather paddle. But if he's barely reacting at all, I'll switch more quickly to another toy and eventually bring out a wooden paddle or the cane.

When I bottom, I enjoy being pushed beyond what I think I can take. I don't know if I always do this with the men I top (some are so stoic they are hard to read) but I try -- and I THINK most enjoy the challenge.

Sometimes things work out just right...

So, with all my regular bitching and moaning about the MTA (New York's public transportation system), something good actually happened tonight. I better give credit where credit is due. Not to mention, I'll need a record of this because I doubt it will happen any time again soon.

I was coming back from an appointment to donate blood. The Blood Center rejected me tonight because they said my iron was low. Strange ... and there I was thinking I'd eaten too much today. OK, guess I'll go eat some liver and ... pumpkin seeds, a good source of iron, according to the Blood Center handout. I love pumpkin seeds! I can deal with that!

The Blood Center is on 67th Street between 1st and 2nd avenues; my bus stop is at 57th between Lex and 3rd, so I figured I'd just walk it. I walked down 3rd, was almost at the intersection of 57th, and there was a red light. I looked over to the right in the direction my bus comes and, "F***, there's my bus!" I began to mumble entreaties to the gods of traffic lights: "Change! Turn yellow now! Now!" No luck, the bus still had the green light and I watched it go by. Dejected, I began to cross the street. How long a wait would I have now, I wondered?

But wait! Was this a mirage? There was another QM1A/Glen Oaks bus approaching the corner. How could this be? It was almost empty, and this was the last stop in Manhattan. Hm. Strange. Was there some problem? Were they not taking passengers? As I crossed the street the driver had already passed the actual stop and was waiting for the light to change, so I tried to get his attention and then I knocked on the bus door.

Here was the weird part. The part I really didn't expect to happen. He opened the door and LET ME ON THE BUS! I was subjected to a three-second lecture on the fact that he didn't HAVE to do that, but I didn't care; I was in! I thanked him profusely, slid my Metrocard into the scanner, and went and sat down in my luxurious, comfortable seat with no one squished up against me.

The bus ride took just over half an hour, a lot quicker than usual, because there were fewer passengers and fewer stops. I would have taken the guy's name and praised him to his superiors. But I didn't want him to get into trouble for being nice to a rider. He'd never live down that reputation.

Look at me! Okay, you can stop now

There's no way to write this without sounding obnoxious, I don't think. It's like the young chickies with the word "juicy" or "hot" splayed across the seat of their pants. They sashay down the street, then turn around and snap at some poor guy, "What are YOU looking at?" What do you think he's looking at? -- The walking billboard that is your ass!

Am I any different when I doll myself up, wear heels and a short skirt or dress -- sometimes with garters and stockings -- pick out nice jewelry, wear extra makeup to emphasize my eyes, etc., etc., before I go to a scene event? I want to look good (I've been working out and eating better for the same reason), I don't want to look demure, I want to look sexy, as much as I can pull it off. I'm forty-five. I wear glasses and look like a librarian. I still hate my cottage cheese thighs. But I suppose I can pull myself together and make a good showing of things at a scene party.

I like people looking at me. I'm an exhibitionist. I love the attention, more attention than I get in any other area of my life. And I get to play a lot, which is a pretty big reason I attend public parties -- to meet people and to play.

But there comes a point where I want to say, "Please stop looking at me." There will be some guy who won't stop looking or following a woman around, and he can barely start, let alone hold, a conversation. He may never talk to me at all, or, he'll ask me to play without an introduction or other preliminary talk. I have to look at him and say bluntly, "So, what's your NAME?"

There was a guy I had considered playing with on Saturday night at Paddles. We did actually have a brief conversation, so he was ahead of the game. I'd promised several others that I'd play that night, so I told him, "Let's see how things work out, time-wise." But as the night progressed, I kept catching him staring at me and hovering, and I started to feel funny. Maybe it's because he didn't seem to be doing anything else but stare, at least for a while -- he didn't seem to be talking to others; he was just sort of drifting around the club. I'm sure I wasn't the only woman he was looking at.

Later on, I did see him talking to more people, so he improved. I was still a little cautious and never went back to him to ask him to play, but I still may play with him later, if he appears to have improved his social skills somewhat. He was attractive, in good shape, and looked like he might be strong.

There have been other "starers" I didn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole. I feel really weird when it happens. I'm not used to it. I don't know how to ignore it and I don't know how to diffuse it politely. They're not "doing" anything to me, exactly, but it makes me feel uncomfortable nonetheless. I can't be the only woman who feels this way, right?

I really hope I'm not coming across as too much of a snotty princess here. Am I? I don't want to be! Maybe next time I'll wear a long-sleeved, floor length gown to avoid this issue. Men won't be staring then. They'll be running away.

Double teamed by Florida "VIPs"

I had some very interesting scenes this weekend, one of which left me flying for quite a while on Saturday night.

Two of the Florida Moonshine "VIPs," who were in town this weekend attending the Strictly Spanking New York party, also were at Paddles' OTK night last night. I've known Tony, from Florida, since I think my very first Shadow Lane party, a few years before I met Rad. At that SL party, I got to do a private scene with Tony and his then-girlfriend, and it was very hot. I hadn't played with him since then and I'd nearly forgotten what a good player he was.

His friend Ian, owner of the London Tanners (makers of some of the best straps out there), also goes to most of the Shadow Lane parties and of course the Florida Moonshine parties. He's a fun guy who still has his British accent, and is known for dishing out some pretty hard discipline.

I played with Tony first and he very quickly shifted into dominant mode. I'd told him that I wanted a serious scene, and that's what he gave me. He said he was going to cane me, and he asked me to stand on a wooden bench so that he could reach my bottom and legs more easily. I stood with my hands on the back of my neck, faced the side wall, and he proceeded to cane me.

It hurt like hell, and I cried out loudly after each stroke. He reminded me several times to maintain my position. I did my best; I stood as still as I could. It was only ten strokes, but each one was wicked, and he took his time with them. When we were done I felt high as a kite.

Ian had already promised to play with me. In fact, I was supposed to get caned by him first, but being a popular top, he was busy. When he found out Tony had caned me first, he said he was now going to show me how it was done!

We all laughed. Yeah, it was real funny -- until Ian took me into the back for round two. He, too, got dominant very quickly. He made me bend over and put my hands on a bench. Then he gave me twelve slow, harsh strokes across my bottom, then added eight additional lines to the ones Tony had already left on my thighs. Wow! I have nice marks today as a memento, and they will probably remain for at least a few days.

I do love the cane. It's unlike any other implement, and the physical and emotional sensation is always intoxicating to me. I also loved the one-right-after-another scenes from Tony and Ian. It made me feel very special, as well as sexy and desirable. Yeah, I know it's a weird way for people to show you they like you, but we're in a weird little world here, us spankos.

Ahhh

(Cross-posted on FetLife)
Last night, after too long of a hiatus, I finally got to play at the Strictly Spanking New York (SSNY) party. People I knew from Florida, Maryland, California, Delaware, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and I'm not sure where else all converged in New York to play. There will be round two tonight at Paddles OTK night (come on out -- fun starts at 7 p.m.!)

I was recovering from surgery so wasn't sure how hard I could play, but I was well enough to start working out again over a week ago, so I figured I could take the risk. I started slow, and as there seemed to be no "pain in the wrong place," I continued. I was so happy to be able to get a strapping and spanking from my hubby (Radagast); a strapping, tawsing, and flogging from my friend Gary; a very hard hand spanking from BradMD; and a spanking, paddling, and severe strapping from my friend Scott (he's a pretty strict player so that was a nice way to wrap things up for the night -- that strap of his is mean!)

Also, Santa Claus showed up in the middle of the party, and somehow my name was on his naughty list (who ratted me out?). I took a spanking from him as well (he sort of looked like my friend Mike from Pennsylvania -- how odd).

Well, I'm sort of rambling and I keep thinking I'm forgetting to mention someone and if I did, it's just because I'm tired and sore and a little blissful from the activities, so please forgive me. Let me know! It was so good to see all my friends.

Fantasies, urges...

In no particular order ...

* I want the kind of pain that I no longer want as soon as it starts.
* I want to be naked, wrapped in plastic wrap, and stood in a corner until he wants to release me.
* I want my panties stuffed into my mouth and covered with duct tape. Then to sit and watch TV or surf the internet like any other night.
* I want him to cut a switch from a tree, bind me with my arms up over my head, then switch my entire body relentlessly. I want him to gag me when I start to scream.
* I want him to tie my wrists to my ankles and leave me like that on the floor, helpless.
* I want him to cane me longer and harder than he's ever caned me. Yes, I want marks.
* I want him to slap my face and tell me to behave.

So I'm a greedy slut. It's that kind of morning.

Soliciting play

A week or so back, Erica Scott blogged about a hard spanking she'd received. It was a hot scene, she described it well, and it created some cravings in me: I posted a response to her blog saying I could probably use a good spanking myself. Nothing unusual there; that's what a lot of fellow bottoms do when they're trying to express camaraderie with each other. It doesn't necessarily mean that I'm going to go crazy if I don't get spanked, that I have some unfulfilled ache in my soul. I am married to a spanker. Sooner or later he WILL spank me, or someone else will spank me, because I'm pretty active in the scene.

But when I write something like "I need a spanking," almost inevitably, a top whom I don't know will send me an email or a message and offer to come help me out. Why do I get irritated by this? Is it because I think they are assuming too much? Or because I don't want to do the work to get to know someone new? Or because I feel HE doesn't want to do the work? (Many times such propositions are from men with very little info on their profiles, so you don't get a good idea about who's contacting you.) Is it the old Groucho Marx syndrome -- "I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member"? -- meaning, is there something wrong with this guy and that's why he's contacting ME? (My own perpetual self-esteem issues rearing up, naturally).

I don't necessarily have to nip in the bud EVERY unknown dom who emails me. I'm a member of MySpace and FetLife so I can connect with people. And there are some very good tops out there. But maybe I need to make my rules more clear -- at this point in my life, I don't play privately with new people (except professionally, and that's something different altogether). I play privately with my husband and with a few friends. For new people, I ask them to look me up at parties and the local club.

That's the best I can do. I suppose one or two guys might say, "Well, don't whine about needing a spanking and then turn one down when offered." Um, it's not that simple.

But seriously...

Do I take my play "seriously"? I think there's a difference between taking it seriously and doing it 24/7. Even people who are "living" it 24/7 aren't doing it 24/7 -- there are times when you have to do other things, think about other things. The implication is that there are agreed-upon rules and if one is broken there will be a repurcussion at some point. So, while Rad and I may not have a 24/7 DD or TIH or HOH relationship, there are certain "rules" that I have and he doesn't have. For instance, being out the door by a certain time in the morning. If I didn't want to play and get spanked, I wouldn't have agreed to this rule. I'm also following a diet and exercise plan, and I'm supposed to be in bed by a certain time. All these things are good for me, but that's beside the point. There are things that are good for Rad that I don't impose on him. So is our relationship DD, then? I suppose, technically, although it's also just play.

Sometimes I submit to Rad. It gets very hard and intense. It's not "just play." It is also not just sex, although it's usually sexual (not when we're at a party or the club). Sometimes I submit to other people. Again, it is not "just play," and it's certainly not sex. I'm not a swinger. I'm not going around sleeping with others. Nor am I seeking just a "form of sexual pleasure." I expect there to be some pain, and usually some control. If I "brat," I expect to be punished. If someone ties me up, it's not just a physical thing. It may be "fun" sometimes, but I do tend to have an emotional reaction. I'm being held captive ... anything could happen to me ... what is this dom going to do to me?

So, "just play" vs. "serious"? Where's the line? I think it's probably crossed all the time.