Note to readers: later I'm going to talk about how Martha Stewart got entitled by the queen of England. Of course this is not true in real life but it is in my little fantasy world. Enjoy!
* Story starts here *
Saturday, December 12th, bathroom of the Russian Tea Room
How come it seems like I always have to scribble entries in a bathroom? Oh well, it's a convenient place I guess. I'm just here faking a stomachache so I won't have to socialize with Martha Stewart. I'm so serious! She's here sitting with Grand-Mere. I never knew she had so many connections. She lives in Europe all-year round! She's only in the U.S because she wants to torture me with princess lessons. So at Givenchy, they weren't lying after all. They did manage to find a dress. Remember my Linda the good witch costume or my icicle ensemble? Well, they are nothing compared to this, this, there's no word that exists that can describe it perfectly. It's wine red, the skirt's puffy, there aren't really sleeves, just wide bands hanging right below my shoulders and best of all, there's a light coating of teeny tiny sparkles all over it. It's absolutely stunning. My chest can't fill the bust so Grand-Mere had to buy me a Wonder Bra. But that's ok. I don't really mind, at least I get to wear such a pretty gown. Back to the Martha Stewart thing. Grand-Mere woke me up at 9 am today:
- Amelia, open this door immediately.
- Huh? Who's there?
- Who do you think?
Ding ding ding. Grandma again. How could I not guess? I was forced to get out of my super comfy bed to suffer from further emotional torture.
- Oh, morning Grand-Mere.
- Oh dear god what happened? Did a tornado hit the hotel last night?
I guess she was referring to my hair.
- It's like this every morning.
- How could such short hair end up becoming so messy? We must get you a hair net.
Like the ones that the cafeteria ladies use?
- It's no big deal. I just have to comb it a little, that's all. What's on our schedule today?
- We need an early start because I completely forgot about our dinner engagement tonight with Lady Stewart.
- Lady Stewart? Who's that?
- Martha Stewart if you insist.
- MARTHA STEWART?
- Yes.
- I don't want to have lunch with her!
- Why ever not? You haven't even met her yet. It's quite rude to judge someone based on first impressions.
- I'm not very interested by someone who thinks egg carton ornaments are a good thing.
- What you think does not matter. What matters is courtesy. Lady Stewart was entitled by Her Royal Highness the Queen of England herself. She is recognized as a member of British aristocracy. Since she is part of our social circle, we must show respect towards her. She invited us to dinner and because of her title, we must accept.
- Can't you just say that I'm suffering from a severe head cold and I won't be able to leave my bed for weeks?
- I will not lie Mia. Get dressed. We must get you a new dress for tonight's dinner.
So we went to Oscar de la Renta to see what they had. What they had was a miniature replica of one of Grand-Mere's many similar outfits. It's a purple two-piece: there's a skirt that reaches just above my knees and matching suit-like top. Hate it. I never get to voice my opinions so I just decided to keep my comments to myself this time. It was way too early to get into a verbal one, two punch with Grand-Mere AGAIN. I had an early lunch with her at an upscale Japanese restaurant on Madison Avenue and since it was only 11:30 am by the time we finished, Grand-Mere suffered from dementia and granted me free time until 4 pm. Yay! Finally, I get to spend some time with my dad. It wasn't my first choice for spending a precious afternoon but I haven't seen him forever. Lars drove me back to the hotel and I went up to my dad's room. I was about to ring the doorbell but then I heard strange noises. Little muffled groans and heavy breathing. Whoa! Was my dad being robbed? It sounded like there were two people in there. I listened more closely and finally realized what was happening. Dad was having S-E-X!!!! No doubt with Beverly Bellerieve! How can you do THAT with just one testicle? I was so horrified, I ran back down to the lobby and on to the street. How come my parents keep doing this to me? First, my mom gets knocked up with my algebra teacher's love child and now, THIS! I find out that my dad's sexually active despite his, let's just say, impotence. Well, I certainly wasn't going to spend 4 hours in the hotel knowing that Beverly and my dad were doing, THAT. I found Lars hanging around the check in counter eyeing suspicious people. I asked him to drive me to Lily's house. I love my bodyguard. He did, no questions asked. When I got there, surprise surprise. Michael opened the door:
- Hey Michael!
- Mia, uh, um, hi.
Why was he so nervous?
- I have a few hours to blow and just wondered if Lily was home.
- She, she went grocery shopping with mom. I think they'll be baa... back soon. You want to come in?
- Sure, I'll wait then. What are you doing?
- I'm just brainstorming for my social studies paper.
- Need help?
- Nnn, no, it's ok. You need something?
- Naw, I'll raid the fridge myself. Want to join me?
- Maybe after I finish.
- I'll try my best to leave something for you.
- Um, ok.
This was beyond annoying. How come Michael's all nervous and tense around me lately? It's so not fun. I sat in the kitchen like a good little girl fighting the urge to look at Michael through the opening in his doorway. Lily came home like 10 minutes later:
- Lily! Finally your back!
- Mia? What are you doing here?
- Grand-Mere pitied me and let me have a few hours to myself.
- Cool! Where's Michael.
- In his room.
- Why? He needed to use the computer that's in the living room.
- I don't know. He barricaded himself there since I came into the apartment.
- Weird. Hey, I rented Hannibal. Want to blow some quality time with me?
We spent the next 2 hours watching the movie and then working on Lily's collage she had to do for art class. Lars dutifully picked me up at 4 pm since I had to do my makeup and hair for the dinner. We arrived at the Russian Tea Room around 6pm and LADY MARTHA was already there. I swear, appetizer was one of the most boring half hours of my life. She and grandma just talked about flower arrangement and holiday decorations forever. I excused myself between the stuffed asparagus course and the endive salad one to sneak in here. Oh no, Grand-Mere has sent her personal assistant Bellene to look for me. Have to go now.
* Story starts here *
Saturday, December 12th, bathroom of the Russian Tea Room
How come it seems like I always have to scribble entries in a bathroom? Oh well, it's a convenient place I guess. I'm just here faking a stomachache so I won't have to socialize with Martha Stewart. I'm so serious! She's here sitting with Grand-Mere. I never knew she had so many connections. She lives in Europe all-year round! She's only in the U.S because she wants to torture me with princess lessons. So at Givenchy, they weren't lying after all. They did manage to find a dress. Remember my Linda the good witch costume or my icicle ensemble? Well, they are nothing compared to this, this, there's no word that exists that can describe it perfectly. It's wine red, the skirt's puffy, there aren't really sleeves, just wide bands hanging right below my shoulders and best of all, there's a light coating of teeny tiny sparkles all over it. It's absolutely stunning. My chest can't fill the bust so Grand-Mere had to buy me a Wonder Bra. But that's ok. I don't really mind, at least I get to wear such a pretty gown. Back to the Martha Stewart thing. Grand-Mere woke me up at 9 am today:
- Amelia, open this door immediately.
- Huh? Who's there?
- Who do you think?
Ding ding ding. Grandma again. How could I not guess? I was forced to get out of my super comfy bed to suffer from further emotional torture.
- Oh, morning Grand-Mere.
- Oh dear god what happened? Did a tornado hit the hotel last night?
I guess she was referring to my hair.
- It's like this every morning.
- How could such short hair end up becoming so messy? We must get you a hair net.
Like the ones that the cafeteria ladies use?
- It's no big deal. I just have to comb it a little, that's all. What's on our schedule today?
- We need an early start because I completely forgot about our dinner engagement tonight with Lady Stewart.
- Lady Stewart? Who's that?
- Martha Stewart if you insist.
- MARTHA STEWART?
- Yes.
- I don't want to have lunch with her!
- Why ever not? You haven't even met her yet. It's quite rude to judge someone based on first impressions.
- I'm not very interested by someone who thinks egg carton ornaments are a good thing.
- What you think does not matter. What matters is courtesy. Lady Stewart was entitled by Her Royal Highness the Queen of England herself. She is recognized as a member of British aristocracy. Since she is part of our social circle, we must show respect towards her. She invited us to dinner and because of her title, we must accept.
- Can't you just say that I'm suffering from a severe head cold and I won't be able to leave my bed for weeks?
- I will not lie Mia. Get dressed. We must get you a new dress for tonight's dinner.
So we went to Oscar de la Renta to see what they had. What they had was a miniature replica of one of Grand-Mere's many similar outfits. It's a purple two-piece: there's a skirt that reaches just above my knees and matching suit-like top. Hate it. I never get to voice my opinions so I just decided to keep my comments to myself this time. It was way too early to get into a verbal one, two punch with Grand-Mere AGAIN. I had an early lunch with her at an upscale Japanese restaurant on Madison Avenue and since it was only 11:30 am by the time we finished, Grand-Mere suffered from dementia and granted me free time until 4 pm. Yay! Finally, I get to spend some time with my dad. It wasn't my first choice for spending a precious afternoon but I haven't seen him forever. Lars drove me back to the hotel and I went up to my dad's room. I was about to ring the doorbell but then I heard strange noises. Little muffled groans and heavy breathing. Whoa! Was my dad being robbed? It sounded like there were two people in there. I listened more closely and finally realized what was happening. Dad was having S-E-X!!!! No doubt with Beverly Bellerieve! How can you do THAT with just one testicle? I was so horrified, I ran back down to the lobby and on to the street. How come my parents keep doing this to me? First, my mom gets knocked up with my algebra teacher's love child and now, THIS! I find out that my dad's sexually active despite his, let's just say, impotence. Well, I certainly wasn't going to spend 4 hours in the hotel knowing that Beverly and my dad were doing, THAT. I found Lars hanging around the check in counter eyeing suspicious people. I asked him to drive me to Lily's house. I love my bodyguard. He did, no questions asked. When I got there, surprise surprise. Michael opened the door:
- Hey Michael!
- Mia, uh, um, hi.
Why was he so nervous?
- I have a few hours to blow and just wondered if Lily was home.
- She, she went grocery shopping with mom. I think they'll be baa... back soon. You want to come in?
- Sure, I'll wait then. What are you doing?
- I'm just brainstorming for my social studies paper.
- Need help?
- Nnn, no, it's ok. You need something?
- Naw, I'll raid the fridge myself. Want to join me?
- Maybe after I finish.
- I'll try my best to leave something for you.
- Um, ok.
This was beyond annoying. How come Michael's all nervous and tense around me lately? It's so not fun. I sat in the kitchen like a good little girl fighting the urge to look at Michael through the opening in his doorway. Lily came home like 10 minutes later:
- Lily! Finally your back!
- Mia? What are you doing here?
- Grand-Mere pitied me and let me have a few hours to myself.
- Cool! Where's Michael.
- In his room.
- Why? He needed to use the computer that's in the living room.
- I don't know. He barricaded himself there since I came into the apartment.
- Weird. Hey, I rented Hannibal. Want to blow some quality time with me?
We spent the next 2 hours watching the movie and then working on Lily's collage she had to do for art class. Lars dutifully picked me up at 4 pm since I had to do my makeup and hair for the dinner. We arrived at the Russian Tea Room around 6pm and LADY MARTHA was already there. I swear, appetizer was one of the most boring half hours of my life. She and grandma just talked about flower arrangement and holiday decorations forever. I excused myself between the stuffed asparagus course and the endive salad one to sneak in here. Oh no, Grand-Mere has sent her personal assistant Bellene to look for me. Have to go now.