Third Time Lucky

Which was exactly what happened. Kenny fell down and I couldn't stop, so I crashed into him and my chin hit his knee and I bit my tongue and all this blood filled up in my mouth, and I didn't want to swallow it so I spat it out. Only unfortunately it went all over Kenny's jeans and on to the ice, which clearly impressed all of the tourists standing along the railings around the rink; taking pictures of their loved ones in front of the enormous Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, since they all turned around and started taking pictures of the girl spitting up blood on the ice below - a truly New York moment.

And then Lars came shooshing over - he is a champion ice-skater, thanks to his Nordic upbringing; quite a contrast to his bodyguard training in the heart of the Gobi desert -picked me up, looked at my tongue, gave me his handkerchief and told me to keep pressure on the wound. Then he said, 'That's enough skating for one night.'

And that was it. Now I've got this bloody gouge in the tip of my tongue, and it hurts to talk, and I was totally humiliated in front of millions of tourists, not to mention in front of my friends and, worst of all, Judith Gershner, who it turns out also got accepted early decision at Columbia (great, the same school Michael's going to in the fall) where she will be pre-med, and who advised me that I should see my family practitioner as it seemed likely to her that I might need stitches. In my tongue? I'm lucky, she said, I didn't bite the tip of it off.

Lucky!

Oh, yeah, I'll tell you how lucky I am:

I'm so lucky that while I lie here in bed writing this, with no one but my twenty-five pound cat, Fat Louie, to keep me company (and Fat Louie only likes me because I feed him), the boy I've been in love with since like for ever is up at midtown right now with a girl who knows how to clone fruit flies and can tell if wounds need stitches or not.

One good thing about this tongue thing, though: if Kenny was thinking about moving on to frenching, we totally can't until I heal. And that could - according to Dr. Fung, whom my mom called as soon as Lars brought me home - take anywhere from three to ten days

Yes!

Ten Things I Hate about the Holiday Season in New York City

1. Tourists who come in from out of town in their giant sports utility vehicles and try to run you over at the crosswalks, thinking they are driving like aggressive New Yorkers. Actually, they are driving like morons. Plus there is enough pollution in this city. Why can't they just take public transport, like normal people?

2. Stupid Rockefeller Center tree. They asked me to be the person who throws the switch to light it this year as I am considered New York's own royal in the press, but when I told them how cutting down trees contributes to the destruction

of the ozone layer, they rescinded their invitation and had the mayor do it instead.

3. Stupid Christmas carols blaring from outside all the stores.

4. Stupid ice-skating with stupid boys who think they can skate backwards when they can't.

5. Stupid pressure to buy meaningful gifts for everyone you know.

6. Final exams.

7. Stupid, lousy New York weather. No snow, just cold wet rain, every single day. Whatever happened to a white

Christmas? I'll tell you: global warming. You know why? Because everybody keeps driving SUVs and cutting down trees!

8. Stupid manipulative Christmas specials on TV.

9. Stupid manipulative Christmas commercials on TV.

10. Mistletoe. This stuff should be banned. In the hands of adolescent boys it becomes a societally approved excuse to

demand kisses. This is sexual harassment, if you ask me.

Plus all the wrong boys have it.

Sunday, December 6

Just got back from dinner at Grandmere's. All of my efforts to get out of having to go - even my pointing out that I am currently suffering from a perforated tongue - were in vain.

I could be bleeding out of the eyes and Grandmere would still expect me to show up for Sunday dinner.

And this one was even worse than usual. That's because Grandmere wanted to go over my itinerary for my trip to Genovia which, by the way, looks like this:

December 20

3 p.m.

Commencement of Royal Duties

3:30 p.m. - 5 p.m.

Meet and greet palace staff

5 p.m. - 7 p.m.

Tour of palace

7 p.m. - 8 p.m.

Change for dinner

8 p.m. -11 p.m.

Dinner with Genovian dignitaries

December 21

8 a.m. - 9:30 a.m.

Breakfast with Genovian public officials

10a.m.- ll:30a.m.

Tour of Genovian state schools

12 p.m. - 1 p.m.

Meet with Genovian schoolchildren

1:30 p.m.-3p.m.

Lunch with members of Genovian Teachers' Association

3:30 p.m. - 4:30 p.m.

Tour of Port of Genovia and Genovian naval cruiser (The Prince Philippe)

5 p.m. - 6 p.m.

Tour of Genovian General Hospital

6 p.m. - 7 p.m.

Visit with hospital patients

7 p.m. - 8 p.m.

Change for dinner

8 p.m. - 11 p.m.

Dinner with Prince Philippe, Dowager Princess, Genovian military advisors

December 22

8 a.m. - 9 a.m.