Of course, I feel badly that my mother doesn't get to share in this very important day in my formative development as a
woman. However, she has more important things to worry about. Such as gestating. And doing her breathing exercises, to keep herself from killing Grandmere.
Reports from the strike negotiations are not promising. Last time we turned on New York One, the Mayor was urging all
New Yorkers to stock up on staples such as bread and milk, since we were no longer going to be able to turn to our local Chinese restaurants or pizzerias for sustenance.
Really, I don't know what Mr. G and Mom and Grandmere are going to eat without delivery from Number One Noodle Son. They'd better hope they can pick up some prepared food at Jefferson Market. . .
Not that any of that is my concern. Not today. Because today, the only thing I am going to worry about is looking beautiful for the prom.
Because today, I am just like any other girl on her prom day. Today, I am a
PROM
PRINCESS!!!!!
Saturday, May 10, 8 p.m., in the limo on the way to the prom
Oh, my God, I am so excited I can barely contain myself. Tina and I look FABULOUS, even if I do say so myself. When
the boys see us — we are meeting them at the prom, as they had to go early to set up - they are going to PLOTZ. Of course,
it does suck a little that Tina and I, instead of just having adorable little beaded clutches at our sides, have to bring along a couple of bodyguards. Seriously. They never mention this in the Seventeen Magazine prom issue. You know: How to Accessorize Your Bodyguard.
You should have heard Lars and Wahim grousing about having to get into tuxes. But then I reminded them that Mademoiselle Klein was going to be there, and that to my certain knowledge she was going to be wearing a dress with a slit up the side.
That seemed to spark their interest, and they didn't even complain when Tina and I pinned on their matching boutonnieres.
They look so cute together . . . kind of like Siegfried and Roy. Minus the tigers, and fake tans and all.
I didn't mention that Mr. Wheeton was going to be there, too . . . and that, in fact, he'd be escorting Mademoiselle Klein. Somehow, I didn't think that information would be very well received.
Oh, my God, I am so nervous, I am actually SWEATING. I am telling you, fifteen is turning out to be the best age EVER.
I mean, already I have got to play my first game of Seven Minutes in Heaven AND I'm going to my first ever prom ... I truly
am the luckiest girl in the world. Oh, my gosh. WE'RE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!
May 10, 9 p.m., The Empire State Building Observation Deck
I never thought I would say this, but Grandmere rules.
Seriously. I am SO glad she brought Rommel to my birthday dinner, and that he escaped, and that Jangbu Pinasa tripped
over him, and that Les Hautes Manger fired him, and that Lilly adopted his cause and created a city-wide hotel, restaurant,
and porters' unions strike.
Because if she hadn't, the prom might never have been cancelled, and Lana and the rest of the Prom Committee would have gone ahead and had it at Maxim's instead of being forced to have it on the observation deck of the Empire State Building - something arranged entirely by Grandmere, who is like this with the owner - and Michael would have continued to refuse to
go to the prom at all, and so instead of standing under the stars in my totally rocking Jennifer Lopez-engagement-ring pink
prom dress, listening to MY BOYFRIEND'S BAND, I'd be stuck at home, instant messaging my friends.
So as I stare out at the twinkling lights of Manhattan, all I can say is:
Thank you, Grandmere. Thank you for being such a complete freak. Because without you, my dream of entering the prom
on the arm of my one true love would never have come true.
And OK, it kind of sucks that we can't dance because the only time there's any music is when Skinner Box is playing.
But the band took a break a little while ago, and Michael came over with a glass of punch for me (pink lemonade with Sprite
in it ... Josh tried to spike it, but Wahim totally caught him and threatened him with his numb-chucks) and we went over to
the telescopes and stood with our arms around each other, gazing out at the Hudson River, snaking silverly along in the moonlight, and . . .
Well, I'm not sure, but I think we got to second base. I'm not sure because I don't know if it counts if a guy feels you up THROUGH your bra.
I will have to consult with Tina on this, but I think the hand actually has to get UNDER the bra for it to count.
But there was no way Michael was getting under MY bra, given as how I am wearing one of those strapless ones that are
so tight it feels like you are wearing an Ace bandage around your boobs.
But he tried. I'm pretty sure, anyway. There really is no doubting it now. I am a woman. A woman in every sense of the word.
Well, almost. Probably I should go into the ladies' room and take this stupid bra off so if he goes for it again I might actually
be able to feel something . . .
Oh, my God, somebody's mobile is ringing. That is so rude. And in the middle of 'Princess of my Heart' too. You would
think people would show some respect for the band and turn off their—
Oh, my God. That's MY mobile!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, May 11, 1 a.m., St Vincent s Maternity Ward
Oh . . . my . . . God.
I can't believe it. I really can't. Tonight, not only did I become a woman (maybe) but I also became a big sister.
That's right. At 12:01 a.m., Eastern Standard Time, I became the proud big sister of Rocky Thermopolis-Gianini.
He is six weeks early, so he only weighed four pounds, fifteen ounces. But Rocky, like his namesake - I guess Mom was too weak to argue for Sartre any more. I'm glad. Sartre would have been a lousy name. The kid would have got beaten up all the time for sure with a name like Sartre - is a fighter, and will have to spend some time in an 'isolet' to 'gain and grow'. Both mother and Y-chromosomed oppressor, however, are expected to be fine . . .
Though I don't think the same can be said for the grandmother. Grandmere is slumped beside me in an exhausted heap. In
fact, she appears to be half asleep, and is snoring slightiy. Thank God there is no one around to hear it. Well, no one except
for Mr. G, Lars, Hans, my dad, our next-door neighbour, Ronnie, our downstairs neighbour, Verl, Michael, Lilly and me,