-That evening-
I had a nice little chat with Michael!!!! It goes:
Ftlouie: Hey Michael!!!
CracKing: Hey Mia, what's up?
Ftlouie: Not too much here. We're hanging out in my bedroom. I just got back from shopping...and Lilly is reading a book in my living room. She says to say hi to you.
CracKing: You mean that there is a living room in your room? How big is this castle?
Ftlouie: Surprisingly smaller than the castle in England....
CracKing: Really? From the way you're describing it, it sounds huge.
FtLouie: Yeah, anyways.
CracKing: You take any time to study algerbra?
FtLouie: NO!!!!!!
CracKing: You don't have to yell!
I remembered then some talk we had about excessive punctuation meaning yelling, or SOMETHING like that, so I laid off.
FtLouie: I get enough algerbra while at home, what with Mr. G and all.
Notice how I didn't add an exclamation mark there.
CracKing: So when's your ball?
FtLouie: Oh, not for a few days. I have a rehearsal for my speech tomorrow. It should be....interesting.
Cracking: I'm sure it will. Knowing you, you'll do great.
See, that's the Michael Moscovitz I love, the goofy, unsappy (if that is even a word) and supportive.
I just might do great.
-Next morning-
Hold that.
I won't do great.
I can't do great.
Do you know how long my speech is?????
It's typed, on cue cards, and it's about 12 cue cards long.
I've been saying it over, and over, and over again.
All day.
Today.
And the only thing I have gotten ok so far is the first line, all the rest is up in my head, circling around.
I had a lovely conversation with Dad about it.
Me: Dad, I've got a huge problem.
Dad: Um...is it...anything to do with Grandmere?
Me: No. Well, sort of. But namely about my speech.
Dad: Is there anything offensive in it. I know you're a vegetarian and all but Genovia has 50,000 people and you can't expect them all to....
Me: I wish I could remember anything offensive in it. IT'S TOO LONG. I HAVE TO MEMORIZE IT FOR THE DAY AFTER TOMMOROW!!!!!
Dad: Mia, when I had to do this, my speech was about 10 cards long. It was typed by a typewriter, and the print was this tiny:
he arranged his thumb and index finger about half a centimeter (oh, no. Am I going metric???) apart.
Me: Yeah, well, have a look at this.
I pulled out my stack of cards.
dad: DEAR LORD. HOW ON EARTH DID SOMEONE EVEN MANAGE TO WRITE THAT?
Who do they think you are, George Bush?
Me: That's what I thought. Can something be done about this?
Dad(flipping through the cards): Mia, do you strongly believe in increasing immigration from 2nd world countries only?
Me: NO! I think everyone should be able to come here. It's a good place to live and...hey, why did you ask me that?
Dad: It's here in the speech.
Me: But, what? You mean I READ that? What else does it say?
Dad: It says that since you've become a Princess you've been waiting for the day when you got to come here and greet you're fellow Genovians. And that you will happily give up anything and everything for these people, and use you're learned knowledge to guide Genovia in all your ruling of it.
He laughed. He laughed LONG AND HARD at that one.
Dad: You mean to tell me that you read this, and didn't pick anything out?
Me: Well, I'm just trying to memorize it!!!!
Dad: Well, I guess you're just going to have to try to memorize it. I know that you don't like it, but all royals have some conflict in their lives with what they tell the public....
Me: Dad! You've got to help me!!!
Dad: I'm sorry Mia, but that speech, though you don't like it, illustrates perfectly what a princess should aim for in her ruling....
I stomped away.
CURSES!
I hate that speech! I don't want to say it. The length of it, and the things it says. That would be an Un-Mia like thing to say, and there is no way that I'm ever going to make people believe that that's what I think and....
If only I had an opinion in my speech.....if only I could change it.
Unless.....
I'm so devious,
devious indeed.
I had a nice little chat with Michael!!!! It goes:
Ftlouie: Hey Michael!!!
CracKing: Hey Mia, what's up?
Ftlouie: Not too much here. We're hanging out in my bedroom. I just got back from shopping...and Lilly is reading a book in my living room. She says to say hi to you.
CracKing: You mean that there is a living room in your room? How big is this castle?
Ftlouie: Surprisingly smaller than the castle in England....
CracKing: Really? From the way you're describing it, it sounds huge.
FtLouie: Yeah, anyways.
CracKing: You take any time to study algerbra?
FtLouie: NO!!!!!!
CracKing: You don't have to yell!
I remembered then some talk we had about excessive punctuation meaning yelling, or SOMETHING like that, so I laid off.
FtLouie: I get enough algerbra while at home, what with Mr. G and all.
Notice how I didn't add an exclamation mark there.
CracKing: So when's your ball?
FtLouie: Oh, not for a few days. I have a rehearsal for my speech tomorrow. It should be....interesting.
Cracking: I'm sure it will. Knowing you, you'll do great.
See, that's the Michael Moscovitz I love, the goofy, unsappy (if that is even a word) and supportive.
I just might do great.
-Next morning-
Hold that.
I won't do great.
I can't do great.
Do you know how long my speech is?????
It's typed, on cue cards, and it's about 12 cue cards long.
I've been saying it over, and over, and over again.
All day.
Today.
And the only thing I have gotten ok so far is the first line, all the rest is up in my head, circling around.
I had a lovely conversation with Dad about it.
Me: Dad, I've got a huge problem.
Dad: Um...is it...anything to do with Grandmere?
Me: No. Well, sort of. But namely about my speech.
Dad: Is there anything offensive in it. I know you're a vegetarian and all but Genovia has 50,000 people and you can't expect them all to....
Me: I wish I could remember anything offensive in it. IT'S TOO LONG. I HAVE TO MEMORIZE IT FOR THE DAY AFTER TOMMOROW!!!!!
Dad: Mia, when I had to do this, my speech was about 10 cards long. It was typed by a typewriter, and the print was this tiny:
he arranged his thumb and index finger about half a centimeter (oh, no. Am I going metric???) apart.
Me: Yeah, well, have a look at this.
I pulled out my stack of cards.
dad: DEAR LORD. HOW ON EARTH DID SOMEONE EVEN MANAGE TO WRITE THAT?
Who do they think you are, George Bush?
Me: That's what I thought. Can something be done about this?
Dad(flipping through the cards): Mia, do you strongly believe in increasing immigration from 2nd world countries only?
Me: NO! I think everyone should be able to come here. It's a good place to live and...hey, why did you ask me that?
Dad: It's here in the speech.
Me: But, what? You mean I READ that? What else does it say?
Dad: It says that since you've become a Princess you've been waiting for the day when you got to come here and greet you're fellow Genovians. And that you will happily give up anything and everything for these people, and use you're learned knowledge to guide Genovia in all your ruling of it.
He laughed. He laughed LONG AND HARD at that one.
Dad: You mean to tell me that you read this, and didn't pick anything out?
Me: Well, I'm just trying to memorize it!!!!
Dad: Well, I guess you're just going to have to try to memorize it. I know that you don't like it, but all royals have some conflict in their lives with what they tell the public....
Me: Dad! You've got to help me!!!
Dad: I'm sorry Mia, but that speech, though you don't like it, illustrates perfectly what a princess should aim for in her ruling....
I stomped away.
CURSES!
I hate that speech! I don't want to say it. The length of it, and the things it says. That would be an Un-Mia like thing to say, and there is no way that I'm ever going to make people believe that that's what I think and....
If only I had an opinion in my speech.....if only I could change it.
Unless.....
I'm so devious,
devious indeed.
