On Thursday evening, April 1st I’m going to be at Seattle Foot Night if any of you locals want to spend quality time with my feet:
These pictures are from my St. Patrick’s Day/birthday gallery in my members-only area (you can see some more previews here):
I hope it’s not too late to entice you into meeting me and my feet; I know there’s still room to register for the party so if you can make it please do! I’d hoped to FINALLY get up our website with information on how to get private time with us before this so I could schedule one-on-one time with folks the next day, but alas . . . didn’t quite get there. Foot night is a non-nude, foot-worship only event so you won’t be seeing anything like the upper half of this picture, so stare hard while you can:
When we eventually do get around to doing private sessions with people, it will be easier for people to get time with me (and/or Delia) if we’ve already met at an event like this.
If you *are* going to Foot Night and you know you want to spend time with me there, let me know if there’s something special I can bring (pantyhose, stockings, boots, shoes of certain styles, colors, etc.). I’m not going to bring a whole closet-load of fetishwear, but I’d like to fulfill as many requests as I can especially if they have to do with kicking dudes in the balls! JUST KIDDING . . . I will probably refer all CBT types to other women there who know how to do those delicate kinds of things properly/safely ;-).
Note: I’ve got a few more free foot pics here conveniently arrayed on one page.
Note: I know it’s been WEEKS since I blogged and I hate that my most recent post sounded so gloomy and was just left up there for way too long, raining on my indie porn parade. There’s so much other stuff going on, both good and bad in both mild and major ways. It’s hard to keep up with all of it and portray life with any kind of accuracy.
The best news is that after about a month of not having a single uninterrupted full night of sleep, Delia finally moved our dog’s bed OUT of our bedroom and every night has been putting up a little big barricade (huge vintage guitar amp and a big cardboard box) so she can’t come traipsing down the hall and pushing against our door to be let in.
There has been no crying and she hasn’t given us any depressing sad glares of accusation like we’re traitors. In fact, I think she’s as grateful for the change as we are. She can pace around all night if she wants, eat food, drink water . . . whatever. By the time morning comes she’s exhausted herself and sleeps all day.
I’m just IMMENSELY grateful to be able to sleep through the night once again. It was a really good reminder to be extremely thankful that we never wound up pregnant.