Day eleven.
Fainting isn't fun. Note to self; avoid future fainting.
But it's not to abnormal, seeing how I JUST SAW A BUNCH OF HOBBITS RUNNING THROUGH THE INN GORVON DRAGGED ME TOO!
I wish I was kidding, but you're my diary. Why would I kid around you?
I was in such a state of shock at seeing non-prosthetic giant hobbit feet that I fainted. Since I have a rather large bump on my head, it's safe to say no one caught me.
Jerks.
So the question begs; AM I IN MIDDLE EARTH?! Is that even possible? I'd say not, but...a hobbit. A real, live, hobbit.
But let me describe, in detail, my morning so far;
When I came too, I was in a small room with one bed and a rickety closet. There was a woman there- her face was harsh and scary. She pointed to a wooden cup on the table by my bed and demanded I drink. Normally I wouldn't accept water from strangers, but she scares me. Then she pointed to a wooden crate filled with water, and what looked to be soap, and two pieces of fabric, one small and one large, perhaps towels? A chamber pot- which no, I will not poop in- and a pile of clothing.
When she saw I wasn't moving, she snapped at me and pointed to the wash bin again. I hesitantly got up and walked towards it, and bent down by it, reaching for the washcloth, but the woman tutted and snatched it away, STRIPPED ME DOWN, and began scrubbing herself! I feel so violated- especially since she tutted (tutted!) at the sight of my rear end. IT'S NOT MY FAULT THERE WAS NO TOILET PAPER!
This whole time I was rather freaked by the whole situation, so I was functioning on autopilot.
When she deemed me clean enough, she dried me roughly with the 'towel', and began shoving clothing over my head.
The first thing was this sort of thin white dress (no, no underwear for me), then a plain white dress of thicker fabric, then a sort of sleeveless blue apron-dress-thing, than a white actual apron- I fit in well in Amish country. Thankfully she didn't work on my hair- her's was pulled back so tightly her scalp must have been screaming.
And then she left and told me, I assume, to 'stay put'. Then I found you and now I'm writing this.
Day Eleven, later
Gorvon tried to explain something to me, but I didn't get it- I did make out the words 'Rivendell' and something else familiar, but not much. He then pointed to himself, and his horse, and the general direction of the exit of town.
Then he pointed to me, the floor, and th scary woman- apparently her name is Mildburg, or something of the like. I can't pronounce it, but Mildburg seems to fit her nicely
But then- get this- HE LEFT! I was so shocked I forgot to be angry with him. Honestly- we spend three days together in the wild and he just LEAVES ME HERE?!
I am so offended.
Day Eleven, even later
Apparently, the condition of me staying in the shabby room is that I work. Mildburg has made me scrub the dishes, sweep the kitchen floor, and make several beds, under her careful supervision and tutting. She has also kept me away from the rooms with smaller beds, lest I faint once more.
The work has given me time to reflect.
What if this is all just a dream or coma? It makes sense until you take into consideration the fact that I've slept and fainted, and that everything is remarkably clear. Just to be sure I discreetly pinched myself several times; I think Mildburg may have caught me once or twice because she seems to think I'm very strange.
So if I'm in Middle Earth...how? And why?
I am very tired and confused.
Day Twelve
Had to clean out chamber pots today. I no longer feel bad about pooping.
I hate my life and the jerk who left me here.
And Mildburg.
Day Twelve, night
Ate bread and cheese for dinner. No meat for me. Mildburg ate meat carved of the side of a boar. Oh, how I despise her.
Day thirteen
She must despise me as well. I had to clean everyone'schamber pots today.
Met another worker- a pretty girl named something intricate. I'll call her 'Rose'. She taught me how to wash clothing with a scrubbing board and soap. My hands are raw.
Day Thirteen, later
I was moved from my small room into the room where Rose and two other girls, who's names I cannot spell but will call Sheila and Doris, stay as well. My only possessions are two outfits (three, if you count my pajamas), you, the darling pen, and a cloak Gorvon forgot that I would be tempted to set on fire, were it not so warm and this place not so cold.
The other girl's think I'm a touch odd, but Rose and Doris are kind enough. Sheila was rather snooty until Gorvon's name was brought up and then she warmed up to me.
Day Thirteen, night
oh, dear, my period came early. What do I do?!
Day Thirteen, slightly after the last entry
Rose gave me an odd belt contraption laden with washable fabric. Do these people not have tampons?!
Day Fourteen
As well as washing out the guests chamber pots and the dishes, I also has to clean my menstrual belt. Joy.
What if this isn't middle earth but an elaborate slave-trade set up? I don't see much I can do other than play along, but I am quite unhappy. I miss my mother and father. And even my little sister, who is probably raiding my closet as we speak.
I want to go home.
Day fourteen, night
Mildburg made the mistake of letting me serve customers. Ogled at a group of hobbits and spilled soup and beer down a man's shirt.
Once again cleaning out my menstrual blood. It smells quiet gross, but no worse than fifty or so stinking chamber pots.
Day fifteen
Finally shown the proper latrine. How kind of Rose. Couldn't she have done this before?
Not that they're much more advanced than chamber pots, but they have better wiping materials.
Day Fifteen, Evening
Worked at bar today. It was hard at first until I realized that there were only two words I needed to know- 'pint' and 'half pint', and if they order the later give them the former and charge extra. Oh, and they only pointed to what type of ale they wanted, so I could differentiate easily enough.
Several said some things that had one of the burly men I presume works as security give them 'looks'.
Was I being called at? Gross.
Also slightly flattering.
But mostly gross
Day Eighteen
Sorry for neglecting you. Been worked to the bone. Mildburg has tired of my fear of Hobbits (and dwarfs, it would seem) and has forced me to interact with them as much as possible, lest I seem racist, I presume.
I have spent my days at the bar (where I am, apparently, best at keeping my calm for I don't know what the males are shouting at me), cleaning my menstrual belt (which is no longer necessary, but I am keeping in a basket I was given for my possessions), cleaning chamber pots and now proper latrines as well, and trying to learn the language.
I can now say 'Hello' and 'goodby'e, and some other things- Pardon me, I find, is a useful term. Oh, apparently 'period' is said the same was as adding 'womanly' and 'bleeding'.
I must go, Sheila and Doris and I must wash clothing for our guests.
Day nineteen
Picked up a new word- I don't know it's exact translation but it applies well to Mildburg and some of our more exuberant guests.
Day Twenty
Mildburg hit me!
I know she does it with some of he other girls when they flirt with a customer or something, but I never thought she would do this to me!
Its all her fault anyways- a burly man was demanding I do something with his horse, not realizing I had no idea what he was asking, and getting quiet aggressive, and I let that one term- you know the one- slip, and now I can't sit down.
Day Twenty Five
Thank goodness I found you! I thought you were lost!
Never ever hide in Mildburg's bag again!
Wait- what were you...
THAT WENCH!
Day Twenty eight
Have been avoiding writing in you so that Mildburg will not discover I have been in her bag, but I think she knows anyways. I have been assigned to help the stable boy muck the stalls, cleaning chamber pots, and- get this- menstrual belts for women who payed extra!
I am so disgusted.
And I hate that bitch.
Day Twenty nine
taught Rose and Doris the word bitch, pointing to a female dog and Mildburg they agree with me. But Sheila huffed and said something snooty.
Learning more language I doubt my mother would be proud of.
Day Thirty
Was flogged by Mildburg again.
She saw me writing in you and seemed to connect the dots that I had snooped in her things- stupid woman, had she not stolen from me, this would have never happened.
Day Thirty six
I have not written in you in a week and fear I will go mad.
It's all because that horrendous woman snatched you straight from my hand! She also locked the door to her room. I went to great lengths to get you back, including striking (which failed as I was beaten for refusing to work), and then, what proved victorious, getting Doris and the stable boy- a sweet lad named- what was it? I'll call him Joe. Anyways, I got Joe and Doris to call her a bitch and refused to tell her what it meant until she returned you.
Then I lied and said it meant 'woman'.
Was hit upside the head, but now I have you.
Learning new words- mostly for food and furniture, but some nice curses I enjoy muttering.
Day Thirty seven
Back to riding the cotton pony. Doris gave me a herb that dulls the pain somewhat, and a flower that, when rubbed on my inner thighs, downs the smell a little.
Mildburg, though fully aware of the situation, piled more work onto me. I wash dishes, serve diners, clean chamber pots, tidy rooms, make beds, wash clothing, wash menstrual belts, sweep floors, and have been told I am to learn how to sew clothing.
All in a days work.
I never thought I'd be thankful for those 'Teen Living' classes in which I had to learn to cross-stitch, but I am, because these people have no sewing machines.
I am finally coming out of my autopilot mode, and I am beginning to miss home very badly. I am still unsure what happened to me or if I am, certainly, in Middle Earth, but I don't care much, so long as I get home.
Day Thirty Eight
got a cold, on top of my womanly problems. Am bleeding and sneezing out of every end.
Am very miserable, so much so that Mildburg has softened my workload- barley.
Day Thirty nine
slept all day. Feel better, if bloodier and snottier.
Got a proper bath, not a scrub-down, at least.
But Mildburg had Sheila pull my hair into a tight, painful braid.
I want aspirin.
I want to go home.
Day Forty.
Still feeling tired and exhausted. The virus must be lingering.
Day Forty Five
Apparently, Virus was never gone.
Period over, but cold lasted a long time and was horrific- I was sicker than I'd ever been.
With the hygiene standards, surprised it didn't happen sooner.
Day Forty Six
went back to moderate workload. Better than being slave-driven, worse than being left alone to sleep through my pain.
Mildburg is the devil incarnate.
Day forty seven
back to full workload- and more. It's almost as if she only has so much time to slave drive me. Wait...
Day forty Eight
Guess who showed back up?
Gorvon, the stupid jerk.
Mildburg, seeing my anger, had me escort him to his room. There were several awkward moments until he pointed to his cloak, raised two fingers, and pointed at me, looking questioning.
I nodded, then turned on my heel and stormed out.
See if I ever give it back.
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