Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! =)
~September 6: My bedroom, Helen's Apartment~
I've been feeling quite peculiar lately.
I fear that I am lonely.
These emotions are taking a strange toll on my schoolwork; I find I cannot concentrate on anything, really. I will start on a paper, and have the strangest urge to play sad music, or contemplate sad thoughts.
Reading Hemingway does that to a person, so at first I did not find the sensation odd. When reading sad books, I often find that they do not let me go as easily as I let go of them. A perpetual gloominess inevitably clouds my better sentiments for a good many days.
Normally, a bit of Jane Austen would get me out of it.
But as I sat up in bed just now, curled up over -Pride & Prejudice-, I found that I could not even concentrate on that. It was if the sadness had overtaken a different part of me, and not even my mind. It had gripped my heart.
And I could not escape it, even in dreams.
Suddenly tired with Austen, I tossed the book aside, determined that if I could not find escape from thoughts in reading then I would find my sanctuary in dreams.
But I was restless, and now I'm writing once more.
I try not to write in this book that often. It is disturbing that my closest friend, my confidant, is an inanimate little book that cannot advise me.
But there is no one here.
~September 10: Calculus Class~
I should be paying attention, but lord knows how much I actually care about integration by parts.
Helen came to my room last night with a cup of hot cocoa brewed for me, claiming she saw the light on, and that she thought I was still studying and needed a break.
I suspect she knows that I am feeling lonely.
Normally, that she knows would make me feel like a weaker person, but at the moment she came in, smiling, with Fat Louie following her, I just could not hide the pure joy of having a companion in my lonely night.
The cat curled up on my lap (my legs legs fell asleep that way, crushed under his astronomical weight, but I didn't care) and allowed me to pet him, purring his approval, while Helen told strangely delightful tales of her latest adventures in her studio, over an exhibit that is to open in a few weeks' time.
I ended up telling her a little bit myself, about calculus, about my weekly sessions with the Moscovitzs, about meeting my friend Boris at the apartment. I was about to tell her about Michael, but for some reason, I felt a strange hesitation.
Nor did I want to tell her that I missed Genovia terribly.
She knew though. And it showed in her eyes, in that caring soft manner that both touches me and irks me.
I do find my heart to be not turned against her, but I still cannot allow myself to be comfortable with her.
And now I am in class, only half awake, for I stayed up too late last night with Helen...but I don't care.
I shall be tired when I meet with the Moscovitzs today, but I am not inclined to inform them of the sentiments that haunted me last night. I think it's bad enough that Helen knows.
~September 14: My Bedroom, Helen's Apartment~
Rene is here!
He came in the middle of my session with the Drs. Moscovitz, like the prince he is, and rescued me from a particularly annoying set of questions regarding my sentiments towards Helen.
I had been trying to tiptoe my way out of a frank unpleasant answer to a question when there was a knock on the door and Michael peered in.
"There's someone here for the princess."
I hate it when he says that word. There's a bite to it that shows a blatant disrespect for my title, my life, and even my character. It is not pleasant at all, and accompanied with that awful smile of his I can see that it is meant to mock and annoy.
And so, of course I shot him my most imperious glance, and with an elegant lift of an eyebrow (I am especially good at this, Grandmere tells me) I did not even deign to respond to him verbally.
I think Michael was going to stand there and wait for the acknowledgment, but he was deprived of that joy when I saw the tall familiar shadow over his shoulder.
"Rene!" I almost threw myself into his arms, but hesitated as I recalled my station. Instead, I enthusiastically approached him, allowed him to take me in his arms as we exchanged kisses and warm greetings. "What are you doing here?"
He shot a careful glance at the Drs. Moscovitz and I knew his reasons as he did not want to utter them in front of them: he came for me. He came because he knew I needed him to be here.
"I have a pleasant surprise: Victoria and Madeline are in town with me, and I've reserved a box for Boris's performance tonight!"
Brilliant! "Oh Rene, that's delightful!" I smiled.
Rene then addressed the Drs. Moscovitz. "Please excuse the interruption, but I have not seen my little cousin for quite a number of months now, and was desperate to see her. I hope you wouldn't mind if I kidnapped her and spoiled her for a bit?"
It wouldn't have mattered if they had denied his request, for I had already grabbed my purse and Rene was already steering me towards the door.
"I guess we'll just have to talk about this next week. Goodbye, Dr. Moscovitz and Dr. Moscovitz! Michael," I sent him a grudging acknowledgement, which caused much teasing and unmerited curiosity from Rene.
And now, I shall prepare for the concert with Victoria, Madeline, and Rene! Oh how lovely it shall be myself again!
~Later: Intermission, Joan and Sanford I. Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall~
"Shall I interest you in some wine, Victoria?" Rene sent me a wink at the start of intermission.
"I'd love some."
"I'd love some as well!" Maddy exclaimed. Poor girl, I suspect, she has a bit of a crush on my cousin.
Dear dear Rene.
"Are you sure you'll be able to get some, darling?" I say to her. "Remember, the age is twenty-one here..."
Maddy sent me a careless laugh. "I forgot! Well I shall do fine with some Perrier then. I am thirsty!"
And so, I laughed and begged off for their little excursion saying I was perfectly fine without any refreshment.
It's been a delightful evening thus far, really. After an exquisite dinner at db Bistro Moderne (no one does fine dining like the French!) we enjoyed a slow drive to Carnegie Hall.
Boris's performance this evening featured a variety of Bruch and Beethoven. I personally love his performance of the Bruch Concerto No. 1, since the first time I had heard him perform it for my family and countrymen so long ago, when I was thirteen.
Listening to him, I was wont to recall my life back then, a pleasant carefree thing. Back when Swedish princesses were not vying for Rene's attentions, before any of us had any sort of heavy responsibilities that required more than half a mind to fix. I allowed my mind to drift, to fly from these thoughts, to wonder how my life would be different if I had stayed in Genovia. Would I still feel so serious?
That's when I saw them.
More specifically him. Because he's the first one I saw.
Michael Moscovitz in a tuxedo sitting in a box across from me, with an exasperating smile, as he turned from me, leaned into his sister, and whispered into her ear.
Lilly's presence made sense; undoubtedly, she was there to see Boris.
But Michael...
~Later: Limousine, en route to the Moscovitzs'~
I was interrupted just then by Lilly and Michael, who decided to say hello.
At least, Lilly was saying hello. Michael simply accompanied his sister, with many words unsaid, but many thoughts implied.
It was highly uncomfortable. There were many things I would not have minded saying to Lilly, but with her brother around, I knew he was just waiting to laugh at the first sentiment I uttered.
I was then saved from unnecessary musings on the weather by the entrance of Maddy who had decided to give up on my cousin for now.as a blonde New England socialite appeared to also catch his attention.
(Dearest Rene...what a flirt!)
She smiled politely at the Moscovitzs, knowing them because of her own association with their parents.
And then we simply sat in silence!
When the lights flashed on and off, Lilly and Michael made their excuses. They were about to leave the box when Lilly turned around and extended an invitation to their apartment, to both of us.
I did not have time to answer before Michael shoved her out of the box.
After the ballet, Maddy had forgotten about the invitation entirely, exiting quickly, saying something about going to bed early to catch a flight out of New York early tomorrow morning.
And so I was left alone.
So why am I going to the Moscovitzs' now?
Because of Boris, of course.
~September 19: The Savoy, London~
It's about time I got to get away!
Father worries that I need time for my studies, etc., but honestly I don't care! I needed to leave: be away!
I'm going to dinner tonight with Wills. Finally, to be able to drink wine without strange "Are you of age?" stares! To be able to sit with people my own age who can appreciate a properly prepared foie gras!
I shall be here for a week; father growled in disapproval over the phone when I told him of my plans (after I had already arrived), but he shamelessly spoils me anyhow.
London's just so...perfect! Just stepping off the plane made me feel a lot better. It was as if a dark gray cloud had suddenly dissolved away, leaving this golden light heady feeling.
A place where people drive on the left side of the road, where the posh accent just surrounds you in this nice complaisance, where tea is served afternoon (properly!) and where people have respect for nobility!
Ah! I shall enjoy a long hot bath before I prepare for dinner!
~September 21: The Savoy, London (still, hurrah!) ~
There is in me a shred of awareness that I have a problem set in calculus due this week, some time.
But I don't care!
It is so delightful just to be a princess again! Today I attended one breakfast, two brunches, two luncheons, and four afternoon teas, all given in my honor!
I do so love being appreciated!
Maddy joined me for some of the engagements today; her in a nice pink suit, and me in a light blue one: we complemented each other quite well. We met with Rene for a coffee break after the last tea, and there was such a fuss outside the café!
It'd happened more than enough when we were young and I have to say that I took it for granted; never was I as happy as I was this afternoon, being acknowledged for the person I was and the responsibilities I had. Honestly, more than ever, I just wanted to finish with stupid Columbia and get on with my life!
I am to deliver a speech on trade relations and Genovia's eventual adaptation of the Euro tomorrow afternoon!
Trade! Genovian economics! Those I can do.
Calculus...
Yes, I know. I've been trying. Looking at this mess of scribbles before me, though, I can't understand a bit, and it's just not as fun or productive as other things I could be doing with my time.
If it weren't for the fact that Father was here now, I would have never settled down this afternoon to sit in front of stupid boring book for two hours. No, when Father had rung my cell, I was still happily chatting away the late afternoon with my friends. My true friends!
There is no one like Maddy or Rene at Columbia. In fact, I can't say that I've exactly found anyone to eat lunch with (aside form Lars, but he doesn't count because we've been eating lunch together since I was in boarding school). I can't say I've found anyone at Columbia. I certainly don't know anyone, aside from Horrid Michael; I don't have the time. I go to class, I go to the Moscovitz's, and then I go back to Helen's. On weekends, I attend whatever benefit or charity my father and my personal assistant Genevieve (who gets to stay in Genovia, fortunate girl!) has lined up, or if I am so fortunate, a friend comes to visit.
It's not as if I-
~Later: Grandmere's limousine~
Grandmere is the best! Oh how I missed her!
I had just shoved my journal under my calculus notebook in a rush (I thought my father was checking on me before he left for his dinner engagement) when Grandmere entered resplendent in Givenchy!
She declared studying calculus to be quite unbecoming of a princess, and promptly decided to take me with her to a late dinner at (prepare yourself for this one) Le Gavroche!
And now I am home, warm with the rosy afterglow that only a dinner prepared by Michel Roux can ever induce.
Of course, I am stuffed, and feel as if I'll have to spend hours in the gym to work this off, but...
...I don't care!
~September 22: Heathrow Airport, London (but not for long.)~
It is incredibly unfair!
My stay in London has been shortened two days, and why? Because Father discovered I had a calculus exam in three days!
I knew I had an exam in three days; I had planned for my return appropriately, and was I not studying only last night? And now I cannot give my speech on Trade and Economics, and I've been forced to be rude!
I hardly see why I have to return to New York to study for the exam. I can just as easily hole myself up in my room at the Savoy. It's cleaner than Helen's apartment. London just makes me happier than New York.
I just don't understand why I can't continue my studies at Oxford instead.
But no, Father is being a stubborn fool and forcing me to return to dirty, American New York, to study CALCULUS.
Maddy does not have to study calculus. Victoria never had to study calculus.
But Amelia Renaldo shall know all sorts of useless information!
~Later (How can it still be September 16? I've been awake for 20 hours!): Helen's Apartment, New York~
My only consolation is that Fat Louie is now happily installed in my lap.
I am going to have him imprisoned.
Not Fat Louie. Who do you think? Who else? Michael Moscovitz!
It is because of him that I am back here.
Apparently, Helen had gotten a phone call from the Moscovitzs, asking how I was, and if I was coming along in my studies, as the first run of exams were coming up.
And of course, feeling disgustingly responsible, Helen tattled!
I am surrounded by children.
When I heard the tale, I was tempted to go immediately over to the Moscovitzs and tell off their son for not minding his own affairs, but I realized soon that by going there I'd only be psychoanalyzed again.
And instead I decided to use the situation to my advantage; until next week, I am more than preoccupied with my studies and hence unable to meet with them (or their son)!
That, I see, is the only good that has come out of this. That and Fat Louie's comforting embrace.
~Later: Still Helen's Apartment~
What do you think? Helen tried to make peace with me!
I am disgusted! What makes her think that I would possibly want to forgive her for ruining my vacation?
I am still a princess, after all is said in done, so of course I can't just rage and yell at her as I want. I couldn't help but pout a bit, however.
I know it wasn't truly her fault; no, it's Father's and Michael's. She was simply following orders given by my Father (which are never to be disobeyed, as idiotic as they are) and acting upon information given to her by Michael.
And oh, I shall deal with Michael.
But not now. I shall relish in this extended vacation from him and his parents.
~September 28: Library~
I am now in the midst of a crisis situation. I do believe this is the worst I've ever felt in my entire life.
I failed my calculus exam.
FAILED.
I'd done pretty bad in the past on algebra, but I'd never failed.
I'd never failed at anything in my life.
And now I'm hiding in the library because I don't want to go back to Helen's, because she'll ask me how my day went, and I'm not sure I can hide this, or my distress. And inevitably Father will find out and there will be no way I'll have fun ever again in my college life! (It wasn't all that much fun before, but without the sporadic trips to London, I do believe I shall go mad!)
It's not as if I didn't study. It's just that I had my biology problem set, and a paper for my European history class to write as well. There was just a lot to do, and not much time to do it, and as I find biology and history definitely more interesting than calculus, isn't it obvious what was going to be neglected?
And I did study; it's just a useless esoteric subject no one but engineers and scientists need. And I'm too well-dressed for that! Oh, and in addition to that, there is that little matter that I've already got an occupation: PRINCESS!
But I really don't want to fail Calculus. If I do, I fear that I'd have to take it again. I apparently need it for an economics major, which I do believe would be useful. What calculus is used in economics for I don't know. It's probably part of that statistics part that I don't quite know about yet.
Why is it these useful things have to be so painfully obtained?
~October 1: Helen's~
My sessions with the Moscovitzs recommenced today.
And to make sure I didn't hide, they sent their son to hunt me down after calculus class. I was forced to endure a ten-minute walk back to the apartment with him. Silent, of course!
I had decided that the greatest insult I could ever do unto Michael Moscovitz was to entirely ignore him and not acknowledge his meddling in my affairs. To yell at him would only goad him into doing it again. And hence I simply decided to show him that I didn't care what he did or thought; I was going to adhere to my own agenda, and he and Father could just forget about controlling my destiny.
He seemed perfectly fine with my silence however, as he insipidly whistled as we walked. I wanted to tell him he looked like an idiot.
We made for an odd pair; me in my neat sweater and skirt, he in his T-shirt and jeans. It only went to show how different we were, and how against God's plan our meeting was. Lars chuckled occasionally, but I wasn't going to dignify that with a response.
Men can be so idiotic.
My frustrations with dealing with young Moscovitz without resorting to childish behaviors did take my mind off my preoccupations with Calculus, which I have been hesitant to even look at, so I suppose his presence was useful in its own way, if not in the immediately obvious one.
The session itself was almost anticlimactic after the angst I've had to endure these past few days; Father has suspended use on all my credit cards and I have no income of my own and has forbidden me from seeing my friends (Lars has been informed that he is to be notified immediately should I violate this decree.)
After the session, we returned here, and now I suppose I ought to study, but quite honestly I am too put out!
~September 6: My bedroom, Helen's Apartment~
I've been feeling quite peculiar lately.
I fear that I am lonely.
These emotions are taking a strange toll on my schoolwork; I find I cannot concentrate on anything, really. I will start on a paper, and have the strangest urge to play sad music, or contemplate sad thoughts.
Reading Hemingway does that to a person, so at first I did not find the sensation odd. When reading sad books, I often find that they do not let me go as easily as I let go of them. A perpetual gloominess inevitably clouds my better sentiments for a good many days.
Normally, a bit of Jane Austen would get me out of it.
But as I sat up in bed just now, curled up over -Pride & Prejudice-, I found that I could not even concentrate on that. It was if the sadness had overtaken a different part of me, and not even my mind. It had gripped my heart.
And I could not escape it, even in dreams.
Suddenly tired with Austen, I tossed the book aside, determined that if I could not find escape from thoughts in reading then I would find my sanctuary in dreams.
But I was restless, and now I'm writing once more.
I try not to write in this book that often. It is disturbing that my closest friend, my confidant, is an inanimate little book that cannot advise me.
But there is no one here.
~September 10: Calculus Class~
I should be paying attention, but lord knows how much I actually care about integration by parts.
Helen came to my room last night with a cup of hot cocoa brewed for me, claiming she saw the light on, and that she thought I was still studying and needed a break.
I suspect she knows that I am feeling lonely.
Normally, that she knows would make me feel like a weaker person, but at the moment she came in, smiling, with Fat Louie following her, I just could not hide the pure joy of having a companion in my lonely night.
The cat curled up on my lap (my legs legs fell asleep that way, crushed under his astronomical weight, but I didn't care) and allowed me to pet him, purring his approval, while Helen told strangely delightful tales of her latest adventures in her studio, over an exhibit that is to open in a few weeks' time.
I ended up telling her a little bit myself, about calculus, about my weekly sessions with the Moscovitzs, about meeting my friend Boris at the apartment. I was about to tell her about Michael, but for some reason, I felt a strange hesitation.
Nor did I want to tell her that I missed Genovia terribly.
She knew though. And it showed in her eyes, in that caring soft manner that both touches me and irks me.
I do find my heart to be not turned against her, but I still cannot allow myself to be comfortable with her.
And now I am in class, only half awake, for I stayed up too late last night with Helen...but I don't care.
I shall be tired when I meet with the Moscovitzs today, but I am not inclined to inform them of the sentiments that haunted me last night. I think it's bad enough that Helen knows.
~September 14: My Bedroom, Helen's Apartment~
Rene is here!
He came in the middle of my session with the Drs. Moscovitz, like the prince he is, and rescued me from a particularly annoying set of questions regarding my sentiments towards Helen.
I had been trying to tiptoe my way out of a frank unpleasant answer to a question when there was a knock on the door and Michael peered in.
"There's someone here for the princess."
I hate it when he says that word. There's a bite to it that shows a blatant disrespect for my title, my life, and even my character. It is not pleasant at all, and accompanied with that awful smile of his I can see that it is meant to mock and annoy.
And so, of course I shot him my most imperious glance, and with an elegant lift of an eyebrow (I am especially good at this, Grandmere tells me) I did not even deign to respond to him verbally.
I think Michael was going to stand there and wait for the acknowledgment, but he was deprived of that joy when I saw the tall familiar shadow over his shoulder.
"Rene!" I almost threw myself into his arms, but hesitated as I recalled my station. Instead, I enthusiastically approached him, allowed him to take me in his arms as we exchanged kisses and warm greetings. "What are you doing here?"
He shot a careful glance at the Drs. Moscovitz and I knew his reasons as he did not want to utter them in front of them: he came for me. He came because he knew I needed him to be here.
"I have a pleasant surprise: Victoria and Madeline are in town with me, and I've reserved a box for Boris's performance tonight!"
Brilliant! "Oh Rene, that's delightful!" I smiled.
Rene then addressed the Drs. Moscovitz. "Please excuse the interruption, but I have not seen my little cousin for quite a number of months now, and was desperate to see her. I hope you wouldn't mind if I kidnapped her and spoiled her for a bit?"
It wouldn't have mattered if they had denied his request, for I had already grabbed my purse and Rene was already steering me towards the door.
"I guess we'll just have to talk about this next week. Goodbye, Dr. Moscovitz and Dr. Moscovitz! Michael," I sent him a grudging acknowledgement, which caused much teasing and unmerited curiosity from Rene.
And now, I shall prepare for the concert with Victoria, Madeline, and Rene! Oh how lovely it shall be myself again!
~Later: Intermission, Joan and Sanford I. Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall~
"Shall I interest you in some wine, Victoria?" Rene sent me a wink at the start of intermission.
"I'd love some."
"I'd love some as well!" Maddy exclaimed. Poor girl, I suspect, she has a bit of a crush on my cousin.
Dear dear Rene.
"Are you sure you'll be able to get some, darling?" I say to her. "Remember, the age is twenty-one here..."
Maddy sent me a careless laugh. "I forgot! Well I shall do fine with some Perrier then. I am thirsty!"
And so, I laughed and begged off for their little excursion saying I was perfectly fine without any refreshment.
It's been a delightful evening thus far, really. After an exquisite dinner at db Bistro Moderne (no one does fine dining like the French!) we enjoyed a slow drive to Carnegie Hall.
Boris's performance this evening featured a variety of Bruch and Beethoven. I personally love his performance of the Bruch Concerto No. 1, since the first time I had heard him perform it for my family and countrymen so long ago, when I was thirteen.
Listening to him, I was wont to recall my life back then, a pleasant carefree thing. Back when Swedish princesses were not vying for Rene's attentions, before any of us had any sort of heavy responsibilities that required more than half a mind to fix. I allowed my mind to drift, to fly from these thoughts, to wonder how my life would be different if I had stayed in Genovia. Would I still feel so serious?
That's when I saw them.
More specifically him. Because he's the first one I saw.
Michael Moscovitz in a tuxedo sitting in a box across from me, with an exasperating smile, as he turned from me, leaned into his sister, and whispered into her ear.
Lilly's presence made sense; undoubtedly, she was there to see Boris.
But Michael...
~Later: Limousine, en route to the Moscovitzs'~
I was interrupted just then by Lilly and Michael, who decided to say hello.
At least, Lilly was saying hello. Michael simply accompanied his sister, with many words unsaid, but many thoughts implied.
It was highly uncomfortable. There were many things I would not have minded saying to Lilly, but with her brother around, I knew he was just waiting to laugh at the first sentiment I uttered.
I was then saved from unnecessary musings on the weather by the entrance of Maddy who had decided to give up on my cousin for now.as a blonde New England socialite appeared to also catch his attention.
(Dearest Rene...what a flirt!)
She smiled politely at the Moscovitzs, knowing them because of her own association with their parents.
And then we simply sat in silence!
When the lights flashed on and off, Lilly and Michael made their excuses. They were about to leave the box when Lilly turned around and extended an invitation to their apartment, to both of us.
I did not have time to answer before Michael shoved her out of the box.
After the ballet, Maddy had forgotten about the invitation entirely, exiting quickly, saying something about going to bed early to catch a flight out of New York early tomorrow morning.
And so I was left alone.
So why am I going to the Moscovitzs' now?
Because of Boris, of course.
~September 19: The Savoy, London~
It's about time I got to get away!
Father worries that I need time for my studies, etc., but honestly I don't care! I needed to leave: be away!
I'm going to dinner tonight with Wills. Finally, to be able to drink wine without strange "Are you of age?" stares! To be able to sit with people my own age who can appreciate a properly prepared foie gras!
I shall be here for a week; father growled in disapproval over the phone when I told him of my plans (after I had already arrived), but he shamelessly spoils me anyhow.
London's just so...perfect! Just stepping off the plane made me feel a lot better. It was as if a dark gray cloud had suddenly dissolved away, leaving this golden light heady feeling.
A place where people drive on the left side of the road, where the posh accent just surrounds you in this nice complaisance, where tea is served afternoon (properly!) and where people have respect for nobility!
Ah! I shall enjoy a long hot bath before I prepare for dinner!
~September 21: The Savoy, London (still, hurrah!) ~
There is in me a shred of awareness that I have a problem set in calculus due this week, some time.
But I don't care!
It is so delightful just to be a princess again! Today I attended one breakfast, two brunches, two luncheons, and four afternoon teas, all given in my honor!
I do so love being appreciated!
Maddy joined me for some of the engagements today; her in a nice pink suit, and me in a light blue one: we complemented each other quite well. We met with Rene for a coffee break after the last tea, and there was such a fuss outside the café!
It'd happened more than enough when we were young and I have to say that I took it for granted; never was I as happy as I was this afternoon, being acknowledged for the person I was and the responsibilities I had. Honestly, more than ever, I just wanted to finish with stupid Columbia and get on with my life!
I am to deliver a speech on trade relations and Genovia's eventual adaptation of the Euro tomorrow afternoon!
Trade! Genovian economics! Those I can do.
Calculus...
Yes, I know. I've been trying. Looking at this mess of scribbles before me, though, I can't understand a bit, and it's just not as fun or productive as other things I could be doing with my time.
If it weren't for the fact that Father was here now, I would have never settled down this afternoon to sit in front of stupid boring book for two hours. No, when Father had rung my cell, I was still happily chatting away the late afternoon with my friends. My true friends!
There is no one like Maddy or Rene at Columbia. In fact, I can't say that I've exactly found anyone to eat lunch with (aside form Lars, but he doesn't count because we've been eating lunch together since I was in boarding school). I can't say I've found anyone at Columbia. I certainly don't know anyone, aside from Horrid Michael; I don't have the time. I go to class, I go to the Moscovitz's, and then I go back to Helen's. On weekends, I attend whatever benefit or charity my father and my personal assistant Genevieve (who gets to stay in Genovia, fortunate girl!) has lined up, or if I am so fortunate, a friend comes to visit.
It's not as if I-
~Later: Grandmere's limousine~
Grandmere is the best! Oh how I missed her!
I had just shoved my journal under my calculus notebook in a rush (I thought my father was checking on me before he left for his dinner engagement) when Grandmere entered resplendent in Givenchy!
She declared studying calculus to be quite unbecoming of a princess, and promptly decided to take me with her to a late dinner at (prepare yourself for this one) Le Gavroche!
And now I am home, warm with the rosy afterglow that only a dinner prepared by Michel Roux can ever induce.
Of course, I am stuffed, and feel as if I'll have to spend hours in the gym to work this off, but...
...I don't care!
~September 22: Heathrow Airport, London (but not for long.)~
It is incredibly unfair!
My stay in London has been shortened two days, and why? Because Father discovered I had a calculus exam in three days!
I knew I had an exam in three days; I had planned for my return appropriately, and was I not studying only last night? And now I cannot give my speech on Trade and Economics, and I've been forced to be rude!
I hardly see why I have to return to New York to study for the exam. I can just as easily hole myself up in my room at the Savoy. It's cleaner than Helen's apartment. London just makes me happier than New York.
I just don't understand why I can't continue my studies at Oxford instead.
But no, Father is being a stubborn fool and forcing me to return to dirty, American New York, to study CALCULUS.
Maddy does not have to study calculus. Victoria never had to study calculus.
But Amelia Renaldo shall know all sorts of useless information!
~Later (How can it still be September 16? I've been awake for 20 hours!): Helen's Apartment, New York~
My only consolation is that Fat Louie is now happily installed in my lap.
I am going to have him imprisoned.
Not Fat Louie. Who do you think? Who else? Michael Moscovitz!
It is because of him that I am back here.
Apparently, Helen had gotten a phone call from the Moscovitzs, asking how I was, and if I was coming along in my studies, as the first run of exams were coming up.
And of course, feeling disgustingly responsible, Helen tattled!
I am surrounded by children.
When I heard the tale, I was tempted to go immediately over to the Moscovitzs and tell off their son for not minding his own affairs, but I realized soon that by going there I'd only be psychoanalyzed again.
And instead I decided to use the situation to my advantage; until next week, I am more than preoccupied with my studies and hence unable to meet with them (or their son)!
That, I see, is the only good that has come out of this. That and Fat Louie's comforting embrace.
~Later: Still Helen's Apartment~
What do you think? Helen tried to make peace with me!
I am disgusted! What makes her think that I would possibly want to forgive her for ruining my vacation?
I am still a princess, after all is said in done, so of course I can't just rage and yell at her as I want. I couldn't help but pout a bit, however.
I know it wasn't truly her fault; no, it's Father's and Michael's. She was simply following orders given by my Father (which are never to be disobeyed, as idiotic as they are) and acting upon information given to her by Michael.
And oh, I shall deal with Michael.
But not now. I shall relish in this extended vacation from him and his parents.
~September 28: Library~
I am now in the midst of a crisis situation. I do believe this is the worst I've ever felt in my entire life.
I failed my calculus exam.
FAILED.
I'd done pretty bad in the past on algebra, but I'd never failed.
I'd never failed at anything in my life.
And now I'm hiding in the library because I don't want to go back to Helen's, because she'll ask me how my day went, and I'm not sure I can hide this, or my distress. And inevitably Father will find out and there will be no way I'll have fun ever again in my college life! (It wasn't all that much fun before, but without the sporadic trips to London, I do believe I shall go mad!)
It's not as if I didn't study. It's just that I had my biology problem set, and a paper for my European history class to write as well. There was just a lot to do, and not much time to do it, and as I find biology and history definitely more interesting than calculus, isn't it obvious what was going to be neglected?
And I did study; it's just a useless esoteric subject no one but engineers and scientists need. And I'm too well-dressed for that! Oh, and in addition to that, there is that little matter that I've already got an occupation: PRINCESS!
But I really don't want to fail Calculus. If I do, I fear that I'd have to take it again. I apparently need it for an economics major, which I do believe would be useful. What calculus is used in economics for I don't know. It's probably part of that statistics part that I don't quite know about yet.
Why is it these useful things have to be so painfully obtained?
~October 1: Helen's~
My sessions with the Moscovitzs recommenced today.
And to make sure I didn't hide, they sent their son to hunt me down after calculus class. I was forced to endure a ten-minute walk back to the apartment with him. Silent, of course!
I had decided that the greatest insult I could ever do unto Michael Moscovitz was to entirely ignore him and not acknowledge his meddling in my affairs. To yell at him would only goad him into doing it again. And hence I simply decided to show him that I didn't care what he did or thought; I was going to adhere to my own agenda, and he and Father could just forget about controlling my destiny.
He seemed perfectly fine with my silence however, as he insipidly whistled as we walked. I wanted to tell him he looked like an idiot.
We made for an odd pair; me in my neat sweater and skirt, he in his T-shirt and jeans. It only went to show how different we were, and how against God's plan our meeting was. Lars chuckled occasionally, but I wasn't going to dignify that with a response.
Men can be so idiotic.
My frustrations with dealing with young Moscovitz without resorting to childish behaviors did take my mind off my preoccupations with Calculus, which I have been hesitant to even look at, so I suppose his presence was useful in its own way, if not in the immediately obvious one.
The session itself was almost anticlimactic after the angst I've had to endure these past few days; Father has suspended use on all my credit cards and I have no income of my own and has forbidden me from seeing my friends (Lars has been informed that he is to be notified immediately should I violate this decree.)
After the session, we returned here, and now I suppose I ought to study, but quite honestly I am too put out!
