*A/N: Sorry for the long time no update. Thank you to all my reviewers. BS, thank you especially; I think that's wonderful for you to say. I do, however, think that the POV changing thing is really good to do, I mean, if you can handle it. Have you ever read the Pugcess Diaries? That fic ROCKS! Same with Bec Moscovitz, and there are so many other ones that didn't change the POV that rock too!!!!!!*



-Exceedingly late into the night-

Grandmere told us to go to bed.

So, we did, in fact, go to bed.

She didn't tell us WHICH bed to go to. So I'm lying on my bed, trying to start off my speech, and Lilly is having an Internet conversation with the ever so speedy typer, Boris himself.

I better work on my speech

-Six or so minutes later-

I have no idea what I'm doing

-About 14 minutes later-

Yes. No idea

-2 and a half minutes later-

I seem to have acquired the hiccups.

Oh. No.

-A half hour later-

Yes, the hiccups all right. They suuuuuuuuuuuuure are.

-Three hours later (it's like 3am!)

LILLY IS THE BEST!

I LOOOOVE LILLY

OOPS, I MEAN DEARLY NOT QUEERLY!

heh heh.

Sheeeeeeeeeeee asked me what I wanted in my speech, and I told her.

Ten minutes later when I walked over to see if she wanted some juice or something, I saw that she was WRITING a REAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLYYYYYY good speech FOOOOOR me.

It's done now.

It's slightly shorter than the one before, and it totally contradicts everything that Grandmere's funny little speechwriters put in my stupidly long speech.

MUWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA

-The next morning-

Breakfast was disgusting. The put bacon, honest to goodness bacon, on my plate. I don't know if they know that I'm a vegetarian, but Grandmere sure does and when I tried to send mine and Lilly's back (Lilly, being JEWISH, shouldn't even be eating pork in the first place, even if she wasn't a vegetarian!!), she only let Lilly's go back. She said that beliefs like that aren't good if they don't fallow religion or some sort of fashion sense. She made me EAT IT. She said that it wasn't polite to send something back like that. And she watched me eat it.

Meat has not touched my sensitive palette for years. That's years of no meat, all to be wasted away in one stupid little breakfast.

I think I'm going to be sick.

Oh, no. I think the pig is warning me.

I need to get this meat out of me now. Should I stick my finger in the back of my throat to get it out of me?

Or, I could take some ex-lax.

-Six minutes later-

Okay, the finger idea won. I did it. I feel sooooooooooooooo much better. I think the pig enjoys being on the lawn in front of the hydrangea bushes.

No, really, if I were a pig, I would enjoy spending my death in some good smelling bushes.

Or would I...

dun dun dun....

I have to go rehearse my grand entrance for the ball. My escort is picking out his suit right now, so Lilly is playing the part.

I'm sure Michael would prefer her than some Genovian almost model.