January 26, 10 am

Update on the pre-wedding jitters: not present yet. I am either too busy googling the wedding essentials or havin' myself some pre-honeymooninging. Actually, mainly the latter. And judging by the way the boat rocks (Aaliyah style. I have no idea what is up with that Cambridge definition), I kind of like the idea of getting hitched twice (Michael agrees).

Update on the Wedding Prep: I have printed out the list of all the sweet shops in the area, and am planning on going to each of them to see if they are making if there is something I liked about Dad's and Grandmere's over-the-top garnish of their weddings, it was the croquembouche. And I am so having it when I tie the knot. Both times.

You'd think I'd get some help from my dear cousins, but no. No no no.

Mainly because I haven't told them yet.

*List Of Reasons Why None Of The Members Of Siblinghood Of Genovia-Based Royal Renegades Or Their Bodyguards Has Been Notified Of The True Reason For The Urgent Need Of Their Presence Here**

1. Sebastiano is appalled by the ski suits skiers are wearing when racing. They are in this neon blue color with a side line in a hue of a lime. Which I must say I sort of agree with him. I mean, I know sport is not about looking pretty, but challenging yourself to be the best version of your (athletic) self and to hopefully make some money along the way, but neon colors don't look good on anyone – except for maybe Beyoncé, but Beyoncé would probably look good even wearing a potato sack while singing the lines of the phone book, so she sort of isn't a valid argument. So I obviously sided with Sebastiano on this one, only to have him scream out in horror when I started talking of all the nice dresses I have seen in my years of late-night binge-watching figure skating when Mr G has finished with all 39752398 billion of NBA and NFL and other abbreviated leagues that give teenagers excuse to drop out of school in dreams of once getting The Ring.

"Those dress are the worst kind of fash!" Sebastiano screamed. "If you don't make it onto the Proj Runw you go into fig skating!"

"Oh, I didn't know," I said, but he still wouldn't shut up. I am pretty sure my telling him about the wedding would calm him down before sending back up into the elated highs of euphoria, but that would take all the bombasticness out of the news.

2. René totally lost Harry. He said he had arrived with them, but between check-in and carrying the bags up the stairs (once René realized how many females knew who he was, he ditched the elevator, as apparently taking the stairs not only prolongs their nice-smelling company, but also impresses them with 'his immense strength in the upper arms that can carry both of his bags at the same time' (I didn't know you need biceps for a backpack, but whatever)) Harry mysteriously disappeared. It totally made me wonder if John Walsh would come and tape a primetime special about a missing royal, but then I figured the participation of numerous Genovian-based Royals and their subsequent escaping without a scratch would most likely cause another diplomatic hostility between the UK and Genovia, probably even bigger than the feud Contessa Trevanni and Grandmere had back in the day before the latter got married, the former got married and the latter divorced, during all of which they had at least slightly matured.

Anyway, while we were looking for Harry all over the hotel and I feared I would never get to go to Baker Street again due to the Queen's fury, the news of my wedding was not only postponed, but also put in question. No way am I tying the knot without Harry there. Who will play music? Sebastiano? Yeah, I love him and all, but I am not getting married while One Direction plays. N.O. W.A.Y. and Michael's 'today is the greatest day that I will ever know' is also out of the question, since the guy singing it was talking about a suicide!

Lars wasn't happy about the having to put the hotel on the lockdown and scaring the group of elderly Taiwanese tourists.

"I totally thought we were going to be vacationing," he kept puffing.

The truth is, ever since the turmoil in my life has subsided, there hasn't been a real need for him to be in true shape. I mean, Genovia is so small that even in the event of a wild chase after a random tourist stole the princess' purse, one wouldn't get that tired that quickly. Besides, if my purse indeed got stolen, other members of Genovian Royal Guard and/or passers-by are likely to get involved in a chase. I think it would be statistically impossible for all of them to be as slightly out of shape as Lars is.

So obviously, if he was so completely breathless while bending down and looking under desks in the dining room, imagine what the news of having to organize security would do to his already oxygen-deprived heart! It could kill him! I'm just saying getting him to agree to forge a few documents to hide Michael's and mine matrimony would be easier to accomplish after mellowing him with a few drinks (and cookies).

Oh, and of course after we were finally notified that the local police discovered a sleeping man in a car on a parking lot about an hour ago and took him to the police station, not believing his insisting he was actually THE Harry, we were too occupied telling the police officers who made the elephantine mistake that it was alright and we were not planning on suing them, and after we finally left the station, Harry took the spotlight. He said that during the check-in he realized he had forgotten one of his bags in the car, so he returned to get it. While in the car, the nearest bar started playing a song he liked, so he decided to wait until it was over the next thing that happened was the police officer knocking on the window.

"I mean," he said, "look at me! Do I look like someone who is in line for the throne?"

He had a point - he looked like he hadn't slept in about three weeks, and the beard he is growing out only aggravates the situation.

"I came to Genovia," he cried, "hoping to get a good weekend's sleep, now that Geoffrey is spending a week at Will and Kate's. Throughout the years, Genovia has been an excellent retreat. This year, not so much. Everyone kept knocking on the door, asking if I wanted this or that. What is so hard to understand about one man's wish to sleep? And then we go on this long journey to – wherever the hell we are, and I just want to sleep!"

3. Lars meeting his Mustache Idol was traumatizing. I'd rather not go too much into that, to be honest. Seeing his stutter and fidget like, well, like Sebastiano when he met Liam Payne, made me realize just how likely it is for some crazy North Korean teenage hacker to somehow hack into a drone and drive it by the window just as Michael and I are getting it on, most likely topless (it happened to Kate!). I mean, you just flash a picture of mustache in front of Lars, and he'll be busy asking Google who their owner is instead of checking FlightRadar24 for any drones!

"You know," Michael said upon seeing Lars acting like a teenage girl, "maybe it is a good idea to get married now. I guess this is as calm as it would get."

So, in conclusion – number of people knowing about the wedding: 2.

I might want to up that number if I'd like to wear The Ring before the week ends. Weekend verses René and his sobriety is like me verses calculus. It is prone to fail.

I better get out of this bed I like so much I might just end up asking Michael to buy for us, and busy planninng the hitching.


To Be Continued (hopefully before the next 10 months go by.)

Broughttoyouby:::winter