"I think you were too hard on G," my mother says, and I'm floored. "I don't think I was at all," I tell her. "He led me on for over a year." "Well yeah," she said. "But he did tell you he was sleeping with all these other women." "Yes, well," I say. "He can go to hell, for all that I'm concerned." ~ My scar just started hurting. I forget about it for ages, and then all of a sudden, it starts to ache. I always want my lovers to pay attention to my scar. Usually they just don't notice it. It fits the curve of my hip so perfectly, it gets lost in the shapes of my body. I should be grateful, I suppose. I was told, when I was a child, that the scar would never lose the flaming redness that it was right after the surgery. Unless it's angry, it's just the same colour as my skin. So pale, almost translucent. ~ I went to a great Christmas party last night. It was magnificent. I discovered that a couple I know are in an open relationship. I discovered this sitting between them, with his hands up my dress while I calmly had a conversation with his wife. "If he's bothering you, you can tell him to stop," she said, and patted my hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He had discovered I was not wearing panties and I was having a hard time breathing. "It's fine," I said. It's fine. ~ Listening to stupid love songs in the dark. I spent today watching the Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Hope Floats, an episode of Life...playing too much Paper Mario. I got James' white shirt almost finished. I did up the cuffs. Now it just needs closures, and a hem. I will roll the seams at a later date, when I have more time. It's perfectly period, though. A perfect Elizabethan men's shirt. First one ever, and it's very good, I think. Perhaps a little too volumous. ~ I've been talking to T a lot. I drunk emailed him last night. Whoops. Fortunately it wasn't anything particularly embarassing. ~ I don't really feel like writing anymore, so I'm going to stop. I'm going to try sleeping, I think. Maybe I'll be back. . Rosie.
Before&After
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