Princess' Diaries

Algebra: problems 17–30 on handout English: proposal World Civ: questions at end of Chapter 7 G & T: none French:huit phrase, ex. A, pg. 31 Biology: worksheet

 

 

 

Wednesday, October 8

Oh no.

She’shere.

Well, nothere, exactly. But she’s in this country. She’s in the city. She’s only like fifty-seven blocks away, as a matter of fact. She’s staying at the Plaza, with Dad. Thank God. Now I’ll only have to see her after school and on the weekends. It would suck so bad if she were staying here.

It’s pretty awful, seeing her first thing in the morning. She wears these really fancy negligees to bed, with big lace sections that everything shows through. You know. Stuff you wouldn’t want to see. Plus, even though she takes her makeup off to sleep, she still has on eyeliner, because she had it tattooed onto her eyelids back in the eighties when she went through a brief manic phase shortly after Princess Grace died (according to my mom). It looks pretty weird, seeing this little old lady in a lace nightie with big black lines around her eyes first thing in the morning.

Actually, it’s scary. Scarier than Freddy Kruger and Jason put together.

No wonder Grandpère died of a heart attack in bed. He probably rolled over one morning and got a real good look at his wife.

Somebody ought to warn the president she’s here. I mean it; he really ought to know. Because if anybody could start World War III, it’s my grandmother.

Last time I saw Grandmère, she was having this dinner party, and she served everybody foie gras except this one woman. She just had Marie, her cook, leave that lady’s plate bare for the foie gras course. And when I tried to give the lady my foie gras, because I thought maybe they had run out—and anyway, I don’t eat anything that once was alive—my grandmother was all, "Amelia!" She said it so loud, she scared me. She made me drop my slice of foie gras on the floor. Her horrible miniature poodle pried it up off the parquet before I could even move.

And then later, after everybody left, when I asked her why she wouldn’t give that lady any foie gras, Grandmère said it was because the lady had had a child out of wedlock.

Hello?Grandmère, may I point out that your own son had a child out of wedlock, namely me, Mia,your granddaughter?

But when I said that, Grandmère just yelled for her maid to bring her another drink. Oh, so I guess it’s okay to have a child out of wedlock if you’re a PRINCE. But if you’re just a regular person, no foie gras for you.