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Mr. Rochester=hottie. Going on my list of Totally Hot Guys, between Hugh Jackman and that Croatian dude from ER .
8 p.m.–10 p.m.
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Formal State dinner with prime minister of England and family
Jane Eyre=total idiot! It was not Mr. Rochester’s fault! Why is she being so mean to him?
And Grandmère shouldn’t yell at me for reading at the table. She’s the one who gave me this book in the first place.
Six days, eleven hours, twenty-nine minutes until I see him again.
Wednesday, January 14, 3 a.m.,
Royal Genovian bedchamber
Okay, I guess I understand what Grandmère was getting at with this book. But seriously, that whole part where Mrs. Fairfax warns Jane not to get too chummy with Mr. Rochester before the wedding was just because back in those days there was no birth control.
Still—and I may have to consult with Lilly on this— I am pretty sure it is unwise to pattern one’s behavior after the advice of a fictional character, especially one from a book written in 1846.
However, I do get the general gist of Mrs. Fairfax’s warning, which was this: Do not chase boys. Chasing boys is bad. Chasing boys can lead to horrible things like mansions going up in flames, hand amputations, and blindness. Have some self-respect and don’t let things go too far before the wedding day.
I get this. I so get this.
But what is Michael going to think if I just stop calling???? I mean, he might think I don’t like him anymore!!!! And it isn’t like I’ve got so much going for me in the first place. I mean, as a girlfriend, I pretty much suck. I’m not good at anything, I can’t remember people’s birthdays, and I’m a princess.
I guess that is Grandmère’s point. I guess you are supposed to keep boys on their toes this way.
I don’t know. But it seemed to work with Grandpère. And for Jane, in the end. I guess I could give it a try.
But it won’t be easy. It is nine o’clock at night in Florida right now. Who knows what Michael is doing? He might have gone down to the beach for a stroll and met some beautiful homeless musician girl, who is living on the boardwalk and making a living off the tourists, for whom she plays wryly observant folk songs on her Stratocaster. I can’t even play tennis , let alone an instrument.
I bet she is wearing fringy things and is all busty and snaggle-toothed, like Jewel. No boy could be expected just to walk on by when a girl like that is standing there.
No. Grandmère and Mrs. Fairfax are right. I’ve got to resist. I’ve got to resist the urge to call him. When you are less available, it drives men wild, just like in Jane Eyre.
Though I think changing my name and running away to live with distant relations like Jane did might be going a bit too far. As appealing as it seems.
Five days, seven hours, and twenty-five minutes until I see him again.
Wednesday, January 14
Royal Daily Schedule
8 a.m.–10 a.m.
Breakfast with Genovian Society of Medicine
So, so tired. This is the last time I stay up half the night reading nineteenth-century literature.
10 a.m.–4 p.m.
Session of Genovian Parliament
Filibuster by minister of finance! He says Genovia will have parking meters or perish!
5 p.m.–7 p.m.
