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Gave televised Christmas Eve greeting to Genovian public. Strayed somewhat from prepared speech by mentioning amount of revenue generated in five boroughs of New York City by parking meters, and expressed belief that installing parking meters in Genovia would contribute greatly to national economy, while also discouraging cheapskate day-trippers from venturing across our border. Still have no idea why Grandmère was so mad about the whole thing. New York City parking meters are NOT hideously ugly blights on landscape. Most of the time, I never even notice them at all.
Four days SLSM (since last saw Michael)
Thursday, December 25, Christmas Royal Daily Schedule
SPOKE TO MICHAEL AT LAST!!!!!! Was finally able to get through to him. Conversation somewhat stilted, however, as my father, grandmother, and cousin René were all in room from which I was calling, and Michael’s parents, grandparents, and sister were in room in which he received call.
He asked me if I got anything good for Christmas, and I said no, nothing but a datebook and a scepter. What I wanted was a cell phone. Asked Michael if he got anything good for Hanukkah, and he said no, nothing but a color printer. Which is still better than what I got, if you ask me. Although scepter excellent for pushing back cuticles.
I am so relieved that Michael hasn’t forgotten all about me. I know my boyfriend is vastly superior to all the other members of
his species—guys, I mean. But everyone knows that guys are like dogs—their short-term memory is completely nil. You tell them your favorite fictional character is Xena, Warrior Princess, and next thing you know, they are going on about how your favorite fictional character is Xica of Telemundo. Boys just don’t know any better, on account of how their brains are too filled up with stuff about modems and Star Trek Voyager and Limp Bizkit and all.
Michael is no exception to this rule. Oh, I know he is co-valedictorian of his class and got a perfect score on his SATs and was accepted early decision to one of the most prestigious universities in the country. But you know it took him about five million years even to admit he liked me. And that was only after I’d sent him all these anonymous love letters. Which turned out not to be so anonymous because he fully knew it was me the whole time, thanks to all of my friends, including his little sister, having such exceptionally large mouths.
But whatever. I am just saying, five days is a long time to go without a word from your one true love. I mean, Tina Hakim Baba’s boyfriend, Dave Farouq El-Abar, sometimes goes that long without calling her, and Tina always becomes convinced that Dave’s met a girl who is better than she is. She even confronted him about it once, telling him that she loved him and that it hurt her when he didn’t call… which only caused him not to call anymore, since Dave turns out to be commitment-phobic.
It would be very easy for Michael to meet a girl who is better than me. I mean, there must be millions of girls out there who have things actually going for them, aside from being a princess, and who don’t have to spend their holidays cooped up in a palace with their crazy grandma and her freakish hairless toy poodle.
And even though when Tina starts insisting Dave’s dumping her, and we all go, “Oh, he’s not,” I think I am starting to know how she feels.
Talked to Mom and Mr. Gianini. They are both doing fine, though my mom still won’t let the doctor tell her what it is she’s having—a boy or a girl. Mom says she doesn’t want to know, since if it’s a boy she won’t push, due to not wanting to bring another Y-chromosomed oppressor into the world (Mr. G says that is just the hormones talking, but I’m not so sure. My mom can be pretty anti–Y-chromosome when she puts her mind to it). They put Fat Louie up to the phone so I could wish him a merry Christmas, and he growled with annoyance, so I know he is doing fine as well.
5 DSLSM
Friday, December 26Royal Daily Schedule
Forced to watch father and cousin René play in charity golf tournament against Tiger Woods. Tiger won (no surprise) as Dad is middle-aged and Prince René confessed to having attended grappa-tasting party the night before. Only sport more boring than golf is polo. Going to be forced to watch Dad and cousin René play that next month—although technically anyway, René is barely even my cousin. He’s, like, eleven hundred times removed.
And even though he is a prince, he is no longer allowed by Italian law to set foot in his native land, due to the socialists running all members of the Italian royal family out of town. Poor René’s ancestral palace now belongs to a famous shoe designer, who has turned it into a resort for wealthy Americans to come for the weekend and make their own pasta and drink two- hundred-year-old balsamic vinegar.
René doesn’t seem to mind, though, because here in Genovia everyone still calls him His Highness Prince René, and he is extended every privilege given a member of a royal household.
Still, just because René is four years older than me and a prince and a freshman at some French business school, doesn’t mean he has the right to patronize me. I mean, I believe gambling is morally wrong, and the fact that René spends so many hours at the roulette wheel instead of utilizing his time in a more productive fashion irks me.
I mentioned this to him. It just seems to me that René needs to realize there is more to life than racing around in his Alfa Romeo, or swimming in the palace indoor pool wearing nothing but one of those little black Speedos, which are very stylish here in Europe (I asked my dad to please, for the love of all that is holy, stick to trunks, which, thankfully, he has).
And okay, René just laughed at me.
But at least I can rest easy knowing I have done everything I can to show one extremely self-absorbed prince the error of his profligate ways.
6 DSLSM
Saturday, December 27Royal Daily Schedule
V. depressing day, as twenty-fifth anniversary of Grand-père’s death. Had to hang wreath on grave, wear black veil, etc. Veil stuck to lip gloss, could not get it off by blowing, finally had to pull it off, causing hat to be swept by wind into Genovian harbor. Prince René fished it out with the help of some friendly topless sunbathers, but hat will clearly never be the same.
7 DSLSM
Sunday, December 28 Royal Daily Schedule
Prince René was caught entertaining friendly topless sunbathers in pool house. Major ballistics from my dad, who thinks at eighteen René should be aware that he has a rep for being “Prince William of the Continent,” minus the crown jewels, as René’s side of the family have only name and not fortune to go with it anymore, and that those girls were only using him. René says he doesn’t mind being used in that fashion, and if he doesn’t mind, why should Dad? This only made my dad madder, however. Should have warned René it isn’t wise to antagonize Dad when vein in center of forehead is throbbing, but there was no time.
Tried calling Michael; got busy signal for four hours. He must have been online. Would have e-mailed him, but only computers in palace with Internet access in administrative offices, and doors were locked.
8 DSLSM
Monday, December 29 Royal Daily Schedule
