to me MY WHOLE LIFE. All Grandmere ever tells me about is how she saved the palace from being shelled by the Nazi hordes by having Hitler over for soup or something. All this time, I've thought about how brave she was, and what a diplomat, stopping the imminent military incursion into Genovia with SOUP and her charming (well, back then, maybe) smile.
AND NOW I FIND OUT IT'S NOT EVEN TRUE????????????????????????
Oh, my God. She's good. Really good.
Although - and I never thought I would say this - it's sort of hard to be mad at her.
Because . . . well. . .
She did save the prom.
Friday, May 9, 7:30 p.m.
Tina just called. She is kevelen over getting to go to the prom. It is, she says, like a dream come true. I told her I couldn't
agree more. She asked me how I thought we'd come to be so lucky.
I told her: Because we are both kind and pure of heart.
Friday, May 9, 8:00 p.m.
Oh, my God. I never thought I would say this, but poor Lilly.
Poor, poor Lilly.
She just found out that Boris is taking Tina to the prom. She overheard Michael and I talking a little while ago. Lilly is on
the phone with me now, barely able to speak, she is trying so hard to hold back her tears.
'M-Mia,' she keeps choking. 'W-What have I d-done?'
Well, it is very clear what Lilly's done: ruined her life, that's all.
But of course I can't tell her that.
So instead I went on about how a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle and about how Lilly will learn to love again, blah blah blah. Basically all the same stuff Lilly and I said to Tina back when she got dumped by Dave Farouq El-Abar.
Except of course that Boris didn't dump Lilly: SHE dumped him.
But I can't point this out to Lilly, as it would be like kicking her when she was already down.
It is sort of hard dealing with Lilly's personal crisis when a) I am so happy, and b) my mom and Grandmere are still fighting
in the background.
I just had to excuse myself for a moment and put the phone down. Then I went out into the living room and shrieked, 'Grandmere, for the love of God, would you please call Les Hautes Manger and ask them to hire Jangbu back so you
can go return to your suite at the Plaza and leave us in PEACE?'
But Mr. Gianini, who was sitting at the kitchen table, pretending to be reading the paper, went, 'I think it's going to take
a little more than young Mr. Pinasa getting his job back to end this strike, Mia.'
Which I must say is extremely disappointing to hear. Because I can barely find anything in my room, due to the fact that Grandmere's stuff is strewn everywhere. It is a little demoralizing to be looking around in my underwear drawer for a pair of Queen Amidala panties only to find the BLACK SILK AND LACE THONGS Grandmere wears. My grandma has sexier underwear than me. This is fully disturbing. I will probably be in therapy for years because of it, too.
But no one seems to worry about the mental health of the children, do they? So when I came back into my room just now
and picked up the phone, Lilly was still going on about Boris. Really. It's like she doesn't even know I was gone.'. . . but I
just never appreciated what we had together until it was gone,' she's saying.
'Uh-huh,' I go.
'And now I am going to grow old and die a spinster with maybe some cats or something. Not that there is anything wrong
with that, because, of course, I don't need a man to be fulfilled as a human being, but still, I always pictured myself with a
live-in lover at the very least. . .'
'Uh-huh,' I go. I just now noticed to my extreme annoyance that Rommel has decided to use my backpack as his own
personal bed. Also that Grandmere has very cavalierly draped her sleep mask over one of my Disney Princess snowglobes.
'And I know that I took him for granted and never even let him get to second base, but seriously, he can't really think Tina is going to let him, can he? I mean, she is fully the type of girl who will demand a marriage proposal at the very least before she even lets him look under her shirt. . .'
Ooooh. This conversation suddenly got very interesting. 'Really? You and Boris never got to second base?'
'Well, it never really came up,' Lilly said, sounding very forlorn.
'What about you and Jangbu?'
Silence on the other end of the phone. Guilty silence, though. I could tell.
Still, it's good to know she and Boris never engaged in any full-frontal chestal activities. I mean, it will make Tina happy ... as soon as I can get off the phone with Lilly and tell her, I mean.
I wonder if Michael and I will get to second base tomorrow night... after all, I'll be wearing my first strapless gown.
And it IS the prom . . .
Saturday, May 10, 7 a,m.
One would think that a PRINCESS would get to sleep in on the day of her first PROM.
BUT OH NO.
Instead of being wakened to the sound of birdsong, like princesses in books, I was wakened to the sound of Rommel
shrieking as Fat Louie beat him senseless for getting into his bowl of Fancy Feast.
I am having a hard time summoning up any real sympathy for Rommel. After all, if it weren't for his behaviour on my birthday, he wouldn't be in this position right now. Although it is wrong to think Rommel could really have behaved any differently. He didn't exactly ASK Grandmere to bring him along to my birthday dinner. And it is clear to me now, having lived with him for several days, diat Rommel, more than anyone I know, suffers from Asperger's syndrome.
Oh, God. I can hear the Gorgon stirring even now . . .
Maybe if I go grab my prom dress and run out of the door now, I can hightail it uptown to Tina's and prepare for my Big Night in the relative privacy of her place . . .
Oh, my God. That's it. That's exactly what I'll do! Why didn't I think of it before? I hate to leave my mom and Mr G alone with Grandmere all day again, but really, what choice do I have? THIS IS THE PROM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If ever there was a time for emergency action, this is it.
Saturday, May 10, 2 p.m.
Well, I did it. I escaped from Casa Horrifico.
Tina and I are safely ensconced in her room, having our pores unclogged by heat-action mud masks. We just had our nails done at Miz Nail down the street (well, I basically just had my cuticles done, since I don't really have any nails) and, in a little while, Mrs. Hakim Baba's hairdresser is coming over to do our coiffures.
This is so how you are supposed to spend your Prom Day: beautifying yourself instead of listening to your mother and your grandmother bicker over who drank the last of the PediaLyte (Grandmere, it turns out, likes it with a splash of vodka).