Princess Diaries:
By Meg Cabot
Disclaimer: I own nothing that Meg Cabot owns, just the plotline.
This is my first princess diary fanfic. You can be mean if you want, but know that you're being cruel to a poor little teenager. *sniff*
The Emergency Room at the Hospital:
Dear Diary,
My life is so totally over. (And I'm going to start leaving dates out of this diary from now on, because I'm too lazy too keep them up)
I'm serious this time. I can't believe they did this to me. I can't believe GRANDMERE LET them do this to ME. Well, ok, actually, I can probably imagine her handing over MY private life, and letting them write STORIES about it. Yeah, you get the picture. Stories about Princess Yours-Truly, Mia Thermopolis. What do they call it? Oh yeah, FANFICTION.
Only, even after the emotional moment last month, Grandmere still refuses to call me Mia. It's still Amelia; even after all we've been through. You know if this were a movie, instead of real life, Grandmere would so totally adore me right about now, would never SELL MY PRIVACY! And for what? You know what. A COMMERCIAL ON GENOVIA'S BEACHES. Yup, she's still insulted about that whole Dad-Dating-Person-Who-Only-Showed-One-Picture-Of-the- Genovian-Palace-in-The-Princess-Interview thing.
But getting back to the subject, what's wrong with my life? Well, a few minutes ago, I thought my life was perfect. After all, I now have:
A boyfriend! Michael Moscovitz, whom I have dreamt about for my ENTIRE LIFE. Now, I don't just dream. I drool, I daydream, I go way out of whack, and I sketch. Lily thinks it's disgusting. She says that I'm degrading the female population of America, and she hopes that I never reproduce. You know, Lily, I'm just so glad the fan fiction authors don't know about you.
A passing grade in Algebra. No, wait, more than that. A B!!! Isn't that great? Plus, all those studying sessions with Michael seem to have lead to something else.
Kenny has gotten a girlfriend. Specifically, Judith Gershner. I know, I know, a couple weeks ago, it was a guy from Trinity, and he's way too young for her (never mind that I'm in his grade, and I'm dating a guy from HER grade.) but they look totally sweet together. Well, except for the part where he always ends up stepping on her foot and tripping. Since they're holding hands, they tend to end up in rather. . Well, they're not positions I want to be seen in with Michael. No wait, who am I kidding? NO FAIR!
But, unfortunately, I just found out three BAD things to equal them, and keep a balance in my life. Well, this is the first time the good side has ever opposed the bad side. Woohoo! Go good side!
I own fan fiction. Seriously, people actually take time out of their busy schedules to WRITE ABOUT ME. Of course, most of it's stuff like "What if Mia had gotten together with Josh" or "What if Mia were gay, and fell madly in love with Lana". No, I am not sick. I am serious. People actually write stuff like that. Ugh. I should probably take the time to point out that Michael is WAY cuter and more appealing than Josh. Though come to think of it, I don't know if Lily would be more disgusted if I went out with Michael again than if I broke up with him and went out with Josh the DRUNKARD. And you know what? I'm not even going to TALK about Lana. I mean, she's the girl who makes fun of my bra size, though that would mean she was staring at my bra. . Ok, I am SO not going there.
The people of Genovia all own the Internet, and they all go to fan fiction places to read about my latest news. What is wrong with a princess who just wants to work for Greenpeace??? Why do they have to go looking in FAN FICTION for interesting stuff about me???
GRANDMERE sold all my fan fiction rights to FanFiction.Net. Cheap skinner. I didn't even KNOW I had fan fiction rights. Actually, until Kenny very graciously explained it to me, I didn't even know what fan fiction was. At least now I know, but EWW. Somebody has a really sick mind, that's all I can say. They've probably perverted everybody else too.
Mom's currently yelling stuff about ketchup in the other room. I can't believe they made me get out, because they thought I was too young to see blood, or something like that. If Lily were here, she'd say that adults are such hypocrites, because they faint more at the sight of blood than we do. They've determined that it's going to be a boy. Mr. Gianini wants to name him David. Mom wants to call him Frank, after Mr. Gianini. They both wanted my opinion, but, of course, I couldn't tell them. Mom smiled and said that I probably thought Michael was a good idea.
I REALLY disagree with that comment. I mean, there is no way I can imagine Michael as this gooey eyed baby who is feeding from my mom's BREASTS. Which is, by the way, a cannibalistic custom. No, what I really wanted to name the baby was-
Uh-oh, I think Mom's started. The baby's started to come out. I still hope that it's not going to be named Frank. Frank makes me think of food, for some reason, and David makes me think of that naked guy from the Bible who walked around shooting people in the forehead with pebbles from his sling.
I'm going to go watch my mom give birth to my new sibling, whom I solemnly swear I won't be jealous of, and maybe offer some moral support to my mother, who is probably in more pain than the baby is. Wish me strength, and hope I don't faint from the sound of ripping flesh. . That would be so totally embarrassing for me, and for my already modest reputation.
Oh God, I feel sick already.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that Meg Cabot owns, just the plotline.
This is my first princess diary fanfic. You can be mean if you want, but know that you're being cruel to a poor little teenager. *sniff*
The Emergency Room at the Hospital:
Dear Diary,
My life is so totally over. (And I'm going to start leaving dates out of this diary from now on, because I'm too lazy too keep them up)
I'm serious this time. I can't believe they did this to me. I can't believe GRANDMERE LET them do this to ME. Well, ok, actually, I can probably imagine her handing over MY private life, and letting them write STORIES about it. Yeah, you get the picture. Stories about Princess Yours-Truly, Mia Thermopolis. What do they call it? Oh yeah, FANFICTION.
Only, even after the emotional moment last month, Grandmere still refuses to call me Mia. It's still Amelia; even after all we've been through. You know if this were a movie, instead of real life, Grandmere would so totally adore me right about now, would never SELL MY PRIVACY! And for what? You know what. A COMMERCIAL ON GENOVIA'S BEACHES. Yup, she's still insulted about that whole Dad-Dating-Person-Who-Only-Showed-One-Picture-Of-the- Genovian-Palace-in-The-Princess-Interview thing.
But getting back to the subject, what's wrong with my life? Well, a few minutes ago, I thought my life was perfect. After all, I now have:
A boyfriend! Michael Moscovitz, whom I have dreamt about for my ENTIRE LIFE. Now, I don't just dream. I drool, I daydream, I go way out of whack, and I sketch. Lily thinks it's disgusting. She says that I'm degrading the female population of America, and she hopes that I never reproduce. You know, Lily, I'm just so glad the fan fiction authors don't know about you.
A passing grade in Algebra. No, wait, more than that. A B!!! Isn't that great? Plus, all those studying sessions with Michael seem to have lead to something else.
Kenny has gotten a girlfriend. Specifically, Judith Gershner. I know, I know, a couple weeks ago, it was a guy from Trinity, and he's way too young for her (never mind that I'm in his grade, and I'm dating a guy from HER grade.) but they look totally sweet together. Well, except for the part where he always ends up stepping on her foot and tripping. Since they're holding hands, they tend to end up in rather. . Well, they're not positions I want to be seen in with Michael. No wait, who am I kidding? NO FAIR!
But, unfortunately, I just found out three BAD things to equal them, and keep a balance in my life. Well, this is the first time the good side has ever opposed the bad side. Woohoo! Go good side!
I own fan fiction. Seriously, people actually take time out of their busy schedules to WRITE ABOUT ME. Of course, most of it's stuff like "What if Mia had gotten together with Josh" or "What if Mia were gay, and fell madly in love with Lana". No, I am not sick. I am serious. People actually write stuff like that. Ugh. I should probably take the time to point out that Michael is WAY cuter and more appealing than Josh. Though come to think of it, I don't know if Lily would be more disgusted if I went out with Michael again than if I broke up with him and went out with Josh the DRUNKARD. And you know what? I'm not even going to TALK about Lana. I mean, she's the girl who makes fun of my bra size, though that would mean she was staring at my bra. . Ok, I am SO not going there.
The people of Genovia all own the Internet, and they all go to fan fiction places to read about my latest news. What is wrong with a princess who just wants to work for Greenpeace??? Why do they have to go looking in FAN FICTION for interesting stuff about me???
GRANDMERE sold all my fan fiction rights to FanFiction.Net. Cheap skinner. I didn't even KNOW I had fan fiction rights. Actually, until Kenny very graciously explained it to me, I didn't even know what fan fiction was. At least now I know, but EWW. Somebody has a really sick mind, that's all I can say. They've probably perverted everybody else too.
Mom's currently yelling stuff about ketchup in the other room. I can't believe they made me get out, because they thought I was too young to see blood, or something like that. If Lily were here, she'd say that adults are such hypocrites, because they faint more at the sight of blood than we do. They've determined that it's going to be a boy. Mr. Gianini wants to name him David. Mom wants to call him Frank, after Mr. Gianini. They both wanted my opinion, but, of course, I couldn't tell them. Mom smiled and said that I probably thought Michael was a good idea.
I REALLY disagree with that comment. I mean, there is no way I can imagine Michael as this gooey eyed baby who is feeding from my mom's BREASTS. Which is, by the way, a cannibalistic custom. No, what I really wanted to name the baby was-
Uh-oh, I think Mom's started. The baby's started to come out. I still hope that it's not going to be named Frank. Frank makes me think of food, for some reason, and David makes me think of that naked guy from the Bible who walked around shooting people in the forehead with pebbles from his sling.
I'm going to go watch my mom give birth to my new sibling, whom I solemnly swear I won't be jealous of, and maybe offer some moral support to my mother, who is probably in more pain than the baby is. Wish me strength, and hope I don't faint from the sound of ripping flesh. . That would be so totally embarrassing for me, and for my already modest reputation.
Oh God, I feel sick already.