Less than a week now, I will be jumping on a plane with an overpriced ticket, and going to Eugene, Oregon (I think).

I will be within spitting distance of G.

I don't know whether he'll turn up to the event. I don't know, and I don't know if I want to know.

I don't know whether I will be disappointed or happy if he doesn't show up.

In any case, I'm working on a new dress, for the express purpose of making him realize precisely what he rejected. Also, it was high time I made new garb, so I'm also using G as an excuse to get motivated.

Oh, it's pretty. It's an early 16th century Florentine dress. I'm making it out of red linen, and edging it with a double row of dark brown velvet ribbon (which I spent exactly too much money on today).

It will be a mix of upper class and lower class styles. The colour is upper class, but the reduced volume of the skirt and sleeves is lower class (I want to be able to move around without having to pick up my sleeves).

Did I mention it's corsetted, too? Lightly, a cord corset, but still. That is the most flattering on me, I think. Soft enough to hug my curves and not reshape them, but strong enough to lend magnificent support to my chest region.

Ah, between you and me, diary, I am terrified of seeing G again.

I know I still have strong feelings for him, even if I also want to punch him in the cock.

I am afraid of what he'll do or say, or what he won't do or say. I'm afraid of him.

Still want to punch him in the cock, for all the fear.

I will be strong, one way or the other. Or I'll go cry in the Royal Room. That is also a possibility.

I think I will probably cry at some point in the weekend. I expect that.

Ah, I should sleep. I've been drinking porter all night and sewing on my bodice. But! Bodice is done now, and I should sleep.

Sleeeeeeeeeeeeep...

.

Rosie.

Before&After