AN: I haven't been writing authors notes for my other chapters but I will now!  Well thank you to all my reviewers! Thank you for your kind words and encouragement to update my stories!  Thank you once again! Here's my next chapter!

My Journal, Tuesday, 23rd December, 7:00pm, My Apartment, once again pigging out on the couch

Well that went BAD! I mean she didn't forbid me to marry Michael, she didn't even refuse to come to my wedding which I fully thought she would do. She did WORSE!

Ok, this is what happened:

My limo arrived at around 3 o'clock, my dad insists that whenever I want to go to The Plaza to visit Grandmere or something I go by limo so the concierge would know who I am. He didn't want that incident to happen again.

Well I got there, said hi to the doorman in my most princessy voice. He bowed respectfully as I walked through the revolving doors.

"Is Clarisse Renaldo the Dowager Queen of Genovia in?" I asked the receptionist. I couldn't be bothered to say her whole name.

"Yes, should I tell her Princess Amelia has come to visit?" she replied in a bored voice.

"No, I want to surprise her, thank you," I smiled at her kindly and walked up towards the elevator. I wonder how anyone, especially Grandmere, can live in a hotel for 10 years. I wouldn't live in a hotel for 10 years, partly because I can't afford it and the grandeur of the place is a little daunting. The hotel is hardly home-like. Anyway doesn't Grandmere miss Genovia?

Knock, knock! "Who izz zit?" Grandmere called, her voice sounded raspy. Has she been smoking again? I thought she quit.

"Its me, Grandmere," I replied.

"Me! 'ow am I to know who iz 'me'?" Grandmere shouted angrily.

Rolling my eyes I replied, "Grandmere, it's Mia, I need to talk to you."

"O! Vhy did you not say so?" Grandmere came to answer the door. She looked tired and grumpy. There were purple bags under her eyes.

"Sit, sit," Grandmere said gesturing to the chair next to her, "vould you like a cup of tea?"

"Sure," I accepted.

"NANCY! TEA!" she exploded, rather loudly for a raspy old woman.

"Grandmere, why don't you ask nicely? Nancy isn't your servant," I said disapproving of the way she treats Nancy. As an employer, you should respect the employee, as they are the one who serves us. She replied that Nancy knows that she is a grumpy, old woman and isn't she the one getting paid? End of that discussion…

"How is Dad?" I asked conversationally.

"Oh, him and his hussy! Pleaze!" she grunted angrily, "no respect for 'is mother at all!" I had to tell her that she shouldn't call other people hussies. She disapproves of dad being serious with someone. I say FINALLY! He's been through one girlfriend after another, finally he can settle down with a woman he loves. Grandmere's just jealous that she won't be the number 1 woman in his life anymore (number 1 after me and Mum, Dad says).

"And vith who!" Grandmere continued, "The Princess of France! Shame!" Yes, Grandmere has always had some rivalry issues with The Queen of France, Dad's girlfriend's mother. See the situation at hand?

"He vas better off vith your mother!" Meeting my icy glare she quickly changed the subject.

"Zo, vhat iz it you vanted to talk about?" She said sipping her cup.

"Ah yes," I said putting my cup on the table, I actually started to get nervous, "I-''

"Oh! Vould you mind valking Gerald before you go home tonight?" She cut in very rudely, and gestured to a hideous dog in the corner of the room. Gerald is Rommel's… son. He is just as ugly as a Rommel was. What would you get when you have a bull terrier pug (crossbreed) and what-ever-Rommel-was as parents? Gerald. He has a squashed up face, a long pointing nose, 4 stubby legs that have to hold up a long sausage-like body. I think Rommel was part sausage dog… Unfortunately Gerald has developed the same nervous condition as his dad. I guess they were both scared of Grandmere's tattooed eyebrows.

"Why can't you do it? The park is across the road!" I demanded.

"Oh! I'm too old!" she moaned melodramatically. I rolled my eyes.

"As, I was saying, I'm getting married!" I finished before she could interrupt me again.

Her eyes grew wide, her mouth formed an 'o' shape. She looked dumbfounded. This not good…

"Congratulations Amelia," she said calmly, no doubt still in shock. No objections? No shrieks of horror?

"Well, 'ow do you see your vedding day?" she asked evenly.

"Oh," I gushed without thinking, "I imagine a white wedding…" I told her everything I wanted for my wedding as she took down notes on napkins. "Why?" I suddenly realised what I've done.

She smiled innocently, "I completely agree vith the vhite vedding you propozed." Did she have to agree?

"Why?" I repeated suspiciously.

"Vell? Aren't I planning your vedding?" she said matter-of-factly.

I eyes grew wide with alarm. "NOO!"

"Vhy not?" she asked sounding offended. I stared at her in disbelief, she is too old to walk her dog but she isn't too old to plan my wedding?

"Remember Mum's wedding, Grandmere? REMEMBER?" I said frantically trying to dissuade her, "Remember what you did?"

"Yez, zo?"

"SO?" I got up and started pacing. "What if I elope! Like Mum! Hmm?"

"You vouldn't do that," she answered calmly.

"Why not?"

"You 'ave too much respect for your Grandmozer"

I stood there fuming. SHE IS NOT RUINING MY WEDDING.

"Don't vorry Amelia, just bring your guest list tomorrow and I'll take care of it," she said trying to be reassuring, "ok?"

I just turned my heels and walked out the door, forgetting to take Gerald for his walk.

I hope this isn't Mum's wedding all over again.

AN: How'd you like it? I made Grandmere have an accent that's why 'what' is spelt 'vhat'. I hope it was understandable. If you have trouble understanding it read it out loud or tell me in the review. R&R please?