Sunday, December 29, 11 am
I am gonna kill René.
I know that in the end, it is me that says ok, but why does he keep putting me in embarrassing situations?
He should know that I do not tolerate alcohol that well!
Oh, it did stop me from crying. It did out me in a good mood. In such a good mood, actually, that I started laughing at some statistical jokes René told me, even though I had no idea what he was talking about. I mean, just the fact that I am finding anything to do with numbers so incredibly funny is a clear indicator I am not totally rational.
I mean, sober.
Actually, everything went just fine until I got back to my room around 2 in the morning. And it was as if the cocktails had erased my most recent memories – you know, the langurs and my terrible genes – because I suddenly started thinking of my boyfriend.
Who was on the other side of the wall.
Who was only one climb over a balcony away.
And who smelt so nice.
Or something. I don't even know what I was thinking. If I even was capable of thinking anything. I seriously doubt that I truly was intoxicated when I decided to dye my hair orange. Because the hair color was like the last thing on my mind as I got onto the balcony and climbed onto the Michael's.
Or at least attempted to. It was kind of .... Well, difficult. It felt like the whole earth was shaking.
Well, at least I didn't go screaming EARTHQUAKE like Grandpa in Freaky Friday.
Apparently I produced enough noise to wake Michael up.
"Mia?" he said with a worried voice as he opened the balcony door.
"Michael," I said and threw my arms around him.
"Mia, are you ok?" he said breaking the embrace.
"Yeah, yeah ... René took me down to the beach. We drank some because I was upset."
"Yeah, Vigo told me you were upset about something but had no idea what..."
"Langurs! I was upset about langurs! I mean I am upset over them! Do you know they are critically endangered? Do you know they are dying out as we speak?" I exclaimed.
Michael looked at me with a frown.
"I didn't know that. I will make sure I'll keep them in mind, though. Mia..."
"We have to do something!" I shouted. "We have to save them, I mean ... they are just soooo cute!"
"I'll take your word for that."
"You know what's also cute?" I said and wrapped my hands around his neck again. It smelt so nice. And he was so cute with his messy hair.
"A few things come to mind but I don't think you mean any of them," he smiled at me.
"You," I said, "you are soooo cute."
"Mia, I think you are a bit..." he grinned.
But I didn't let him finish.
"And you know what? I want you," I said in the most seductive voice I could master.
"What?" he looked totally puzzled, which, I mean, says a lot about my skills when it comes to seduction.
"I've been wanting you for a long time now ... and now you are here ... and I want you."
And I kissed him. Only that he broke the kiss almost immediately.
"Mia, stop..."
"You know that Beyoncé song? I don't know much about algebra but I know 1 + 1 equals two? Well, I want 1+1, so you and me, to equal 1. I want us together. Together."
He just stared at me like I was nuts. Then a smile spread across his face but he quickly hid it.
He cleared his throat.
"I don't think this is exactly the place or time ..."
"Are you saying no to me?" I exclaimed. "This is the second time I am offering and I don't think you will get the third chance!"
"Well, it is not my fault if your offers always come at such bad times, Mia," he smiled. "Otherwise, trust me, I wouldn't have second thoughts. How much have you drank?"
"Are you saying I am drunk? Because I am not, I am totally not, I can totally name all the princes of Belgium – Prince Laurent, Prince Lorenz ..."
"Just the fact that you are happily reciting the family trees of royal families tells me you are not sober," Michael laughed.
Really. Thank god I have a boyfriend who does not let me lose my virginity while being drunk.
I am so embarrassed. I am totally gonna tear the pages out of my diary and burn them.
How am I gonna face Michael now?
Sunday, December 29, 12 am
Michael was already in the dining room when I got there for breakfast. He winked at me when I sat down next to him, trying to look cool and collected while my heart was beating like crazy.
"Mia, what is a langur?" was the first thing dad said to me from behind the paper.
"An endangered animal," I said.
"Well, I should have known," sighed Dad and turned the page in his paper.
As I was buttering the slice of bread (wanna bet Grandmere mentioned the special pancakes Pierre made for Michael and me yesterday?) I suddenly got this great idea.
"Dad, do you think I could mention langurs in my speech on Tuesday? You, know. The one for the animal shelter?" I asked.
"You do not to be that specific," said Grandmere, "lord forbid you had more than more speech! And absolutely not! Just say what the press team has prepared for you and say nothing more!"
"I am with your grandmother on this one," said Dad and took a sip of coffee, "I am sure langurs or however they are called are lovely animals and have many people fighting for them. You fight for Genovia's stray cats and that's more than enough."
This is what you get when you are not depressed any longer. A year ago, Dad would probably call zoos all over the globe to find one that had a langur and was willing to lend it to us for the day of the speech so that I could let the world know of the endangered species. Just so that I wouldn't be cooped up in my room, eating leftovers from dinner.
"The last thing we need is another parking meters debacle," said Grandmere.
Which is totally unfair. I know how much money Genovia earned from them.
"I don't see how mentioning an endangered species could cause a debacle," I said.
"Just read what has been prepared for you, Mia," sighed Dad.
And what has been prepared for me is:
Animals, our pets, are always there for us. When we are sad, they comfort us, when we are happy, they make us happier. Every time we get home, they are happy to see us. They never let us down.
Yet we, the people let our pets down so many times. We often put our needs before theirs and too often, pets that used to be so beloved, found themselves on the streets, alone.
They cannot say what they feel.
They cannot save themselves.
So we need to speak for them
So we need to save them.
The amazing, kind, compassionate and determined people of Genovia SPCA fight for the abandoned animals every day, day after day. They are not only the examples of true animals lovers, but also the examples of what every human being should be - we all need to step up for those who cannot do it themselves.
So I am honored to be able to help them realize one of their goals today – the opening of a new animal shelter. I know that now they will be able to make an even bigger difference. They will be able to save even more lives and give many, many animals a chance for a better life.
And I encourage you, people of Genovia, to open your hearts and come here, look into the eyes of the most honest, humble friends one could find. With this act, you will not only save a life, but you will also enrich YOUR life! Feel the unconditional love, I encourage you all to adopt a pet.
Which is all nice and all but ... THERE ARE NO LANGURS IN IT!
Sunday, December 29, 1 pm
Princess Lessons.
Again.
I still haven't had time to talk to Michael about last night. It's almost as if Grandmere knows there's something Michael and I need to talk about because she just doesn't give me a time to even catch a breath! I mean, right after breakfast I was dragged to a salon where I am listening to some Royal Manners that are most likely made up by Grandmere pretty much the moment she says them.
I am not entirely sure this is a very bad thing, though. I have no idea what I would say.
I mean, I told him I wanted to have sex.
And I was drunk.
I am never drunk.
And I am not the one in our relationship that never hides their desire for the other.
Sunday, December 29, 1:30 pm
This is so boring. Who cares if I know to drink champagne like a princess?
Seriously. How can princesses drink champagne in any other way that 'ordinary' people?
Isn't drinking drinking?
I mean, satisfying basic human needs is universal. We learnt that in school.
Oh, right, Grandmere's school is not the same as a normal school. Its curriculum has been designed with a sole purpose to torture me.
I'll just make a list or something. She is not even paying attention to me.
**List Of My Favorite Paramore Songs**
1. My Heart
2. Future
3. I'm Not Angry Anymore
4. All I Wanted
5. Ignorance
6. Careful
7. In The Mourning
8. Renegade
Seriously. This band is totally my life. From my heartbreak, to moving on and rebelling against Grandmere.
And then I wonder why I have orange hair?
Sunday, December 29, 4 pm
Ok, so Michael doesn't hate me.
And he didn't make fun of me.
And he didn't break up with me.
I mean, not that I feared that he would but, you know, you never know. Guys are weird. Even totally calm, understanding and patient guys like Michael.
I mean, guys totally accept the fact that Titanic sinks at the end of the movie and that wardrobe just wasn't big enough for two people. Excuse me but WHAT? It is completely UNFAIR that it sinks, plus, the wardrobe totally is big enough (didn't they watch Mythbusters?)! It is just a cheap trick the producers used on viewers because Jack dying affected viewers and awoken such strong feelings in us it made the movie a masterpiece! I am sorry but I will never get over the fact that Jack dies just so that producers could earn a lot of money while Rose has to live without him. NEVER!
But that's not really what I wanted to write about.
When Grandmere went on a hunt for another Sidecar, I sneaked out of the salon to find Michael. I bumped into him on the hallway where he had been waiting on me to be done with Princess Lessons (so apparently the technological aspects of the palace have been taken care of. Good to know. Maybe now I will finally be able to watch Lifetime movies from my bed.).
"Hey, you," he smiled at me.
"Michael, I am so embarrassed," I quickly said before the smell of his neck would make me completely fuzzy.
He just pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my temples.
"So you drank a bit much, it happens," he laughed. Then he looked me directly in the eyes and I could feel my knees giving in. "But did you really mean it, though? Do you really want us to make love?"
I think he tried to hide the excitement in his eyes but I could still see it.
But of course I didn't get to answer with a big fat YES ... I mean, I can't even find time to make out with my boyfriend – how could I possibly have a few minutes to discuss SEX with the said boyfriend?
"No! Not you too!" I heard Grandmere screaming.
I don't really know what I thought she was screaming about. Maybe that her maid wouldn't make her another sidecar as her doctor has warned her that she is drinking too much? Or that maybe a new vet we have confirmed Rommel's diagnosis of OCD? Or even that my Dad, inspired by me, René and Sebastiano, also decided to get a total makeover?
Anyway, I ran towards her because, you know, that's just me, putting everyone else's needs before mine.
I found Grandmere in the dining room, with a sidecar in her hand and a very angry expression in her eyes, focused on none other than Harry himself.
And what followed, well, it wasn't the most embarrassing conversation of my life but it definitely up there somewhere.
Harry: Hey, Genovia! Nice hair. How's it goin'?
Grandmere: Please, learn proper English! What are you even doing here?
Rene (who suddenly appears out of nowhere, with his hair being a total mess – apparently the dye he has on is not super water-resistant because his hair is partly back to its normal brown): I invited him.
Grandmere: Why?
Rene: Well, you being so busy with Arne and all, and Mia being busy with her boyfriend or whatever, I just desired some company.
Which, by the way, is totally not true. Rene spends way too much time at Genovian Opera House or House of Ballet to feel lonely.
Harry (he steps closer to where Michael and I were standing, with his eyes wide open): So this is That Boy? (at this point he is completely ignoring my attempts to let him now he needs to SHUT UP) Well, you are a minor celebrity around here, mate, ladies never seem to be able to shut up about you (Grandmere is looking totally mortified and I too feel like crawling into a hole and never leaving it. Because it is not true – I can totally shut up about Michael.) I am Harry.
Grandmere: Sidecar! What do I have to do around here to get a Sidecar?!
Harry: Relax, Clarisse, all this alcohol isn't good for ya. Besides, it is time for tea. I brought with me some of the finest English teas. I believe your chef is making them right as we speak.
We go to a salon and tea is already waiting for us. Grandmere has that look on her face that just screams SOMEBODY IS GONNA GET FIRED FOR THIS. I just pray it won't be Pierre. I need that man for my wedding!
I try to sit down next to Michael but somehow Harry gets in the way and so I end up sitting next to Sebastiano whose Mohawk is down, probably trying to hide the stars he has at the sides of his head since at breakfast Grandmere told him that stars have nothing to do with Genovia and Sebastiano still thinks Grandmere can turn him into a super successful designer.
Harry: So, Michael, Genovia here tells me you have been in Japan for the past year.
Michael: Yeah, that's about right.
Harry: So what exactly are you building there? All Mia could tell me is that it is some kind of a surgical robot?
Thank you so much, Harry! Now I look completely inattentive in my boyfriend's eyes! Like I don't ever listen to him! Which I do, just, I usually don't understand what he's saying!
Michael: Um ... it is a robotic arm, actually. It is a system that allows surgeons to operate on the heart without having to crack the chest open. It has MRI, X-ray, CT scan built in.
We all just stare at Michael because we don't really understand what he's saying. The only noises in the salon are Rommel's shrieks when Grandmere pets him.
Harry: Wow. That's ... dog's bollocks.
Not that we understand that either.
Sebastiano: so what color will it be?
Rene: so, what, is this the equipment that will only be available in like, a few hospitals all over the world or will it be like, I don't know, X-ray, pretty much in every hospital?
Michael: well, we are certainly hoping to get it in as many hospitals as possible. I mean, sure, if surgeons want to use it, they will require basic training, but then it is rather simple to use.
Harry: right. So then it will be as revolutionary as, I don't know, X-ray?
Michael: I wouldn't go to such great lengths since X-ray was the first scanner of any kind. There are other surgical instruments available today already, but CardioArm is the first system that incorporates advanced imaging technology. But, yes, it will make the work easier for the surgeons and the recovery less painful for the patients.
I know, right? My boyfriend is so smart!
Too smart for me, probably.
Rene (looking completely confused): well, that's great.
Harry (looking similarly confused): so much money did you make from selling it?
Michael (looking puzzled): Selling it?
Harry: Well, you know, the revolutionary medical equipment? Companies that deal with this kind of cracking stuff would die to have something like this under their name. I mean, it is bound to sell well and earn millions, right?
Michael: I suppose. I didn't sell the prototype to anyone.
Rene: No? Then what did you do with it, then?
Michael: Well, I founded my own company that will start selling the CardioArm in a few months.
Sebastiano: you have your own compa? Like Dolce and Gabbana or something?
Michael: yes.
Harry: wow ... so you are a CEO?
Michael: yes, among other things
Harry: and you will be totally in control of the sells once the arm hits the market?
Michael: yeah, basically.
Harry (reaching out for the teapot): Wow, you're utterly minted, man! And you called it, what did you say again, CardioArm?
Michael: That's the name of the product. The company is Pavlov Surgical.
Rene: oh, after that psychologist?
Michael: No - well, yes. I named my dog after Pavlov and the company after my dog. But basically yes.
I don't really know why this turned out to be such a shock for everyone in the salon. I mean, ok, maybe they don't really know Michael as well as I do. I know that he loves his dog and Pavlov truly is the most adorable thing ever, but they could still react more maturely than they did. René totally spat the tea out of his mouth back into the cup. Harry just raised his eyebrows and practically dropped the teapot he was holding, but luckily, one of the servants was nearby and managed to catch it before tea would be all over the Persian carpets. Sebastiano's eyes went wide, kind of like every time he watches Milano Fashion Week Videos on YouTube
I swear, for a moment actually thought Grandmere went into cardiac arrest. I mean, she turned totally pale and her eyes dilated which looked so scary with that black line she has tattooed. She kind of looked like people in The Ring when Samara climbed out of TV.
"Well, did you hear that, Amelia?" she said with a broken voice.
"Hear what?" I asked.
"He named his company after his dog. After his animal!" she screamed.
"Yeah, so? It's cute," I shrugged. I mean, seriously, what was all the commotion about? Pavlov is the sweetest thing, especially when he climbs in your lap and starts licking your face
"Cute is the last word I would use ... Sidecar! I am still waiting on my Sidecar!"
"Grandmere, are you ok?" I asked. She really didn't look good.
"Ok? I don't think I will ever be perfectly ok again ..."
Grandmere's eyes turned to Michael and she was looking at him for what seemed like forever. She didn't even say anything to Rene who swore in French while trying to get tea out of his white shirt ("princes never wash anything out of their clothes; they just put on new ones").
Then her maid finally brought her Sidecar and as she took the glass in her hands, Grandmere sighed loudly.
"Well, I suppose it could be worse after all. It could actually be a farmer ..."
Why is my family so weird? I don't understand any of them.
"What farmer?" I exclaimed, "What are you talking ABOUT? A farmer could be WHAT?"
But she totally ignored me, like always, I guess.
"Who made this sidecar? I can barely taste any lemon in this! Is it so hard to make a proper sidecar or do you expect me to do it myself?"
Is there some sort of 'The Weirdest Family Of The World' competition? Because I think we could totally win. What is up with everyone? So Michael reinvented cardio surgery. So he has his company now. There's no need to be spilling tea all over the place. I mean, I told them Michael is a genius. I told him why he went to Japan for. Why are they even surprised? I am not.
Ok, maybe I am not being fair. I mean, he did tell me he'd founded his own company and all a few months back, but even then I didn't kick up such a fuss. Well, besides saying 'that's so cute' over and over when he told me he named it after Pavlov.
But whatever.
And what is up with Grandmere and her farmers? I thought she was angry at that fortune teller that told me I'd marry a farmer – no, I mean, a guy who makes a living off his animal. Why did she bring that up? I mean, the last thing I need is Michael finding out a fortune teller told me I would marry someone else.
Not that Michael believes in fortune tellers.
I think.
I hope.
Sunday, December 29, 6 pm
Seriously. Grandmere should just get over it.
She has to face it. She was wrong.
Ha!