One more wake-up that is until the ROYAL WEDDING! A blue blood nuptial is on the horizon. Are ya'll as excited as me? I'm having a little watch party. I am chilling the bubbly, spot cleaning the china, placing the flowers and plotting my table scape. Is it because it's a fairy tale wedding? Or is it because Wills and Kate are roughly my age? I'm not sure, but I'm totally into this. Probably a little too much. Julia is about the age I was when Diana and Charles married in 1981. I can remember my mom and aunt talking about waking up in the middle of the night to watch it. It was kind of a big deal and still is. No? And yes, I'm aware that this is a lot of money to spend on a wedding. I am also aware that there are a lot of people without a job and this is a bit lavish. But try, do try and have a little fun. Take one day to dream like a princess!

In the car yesterday I was daydreaming of Kate and what all she has on her mind. I wonder what she feels like today? Nervous? Cold feet? Excited beyond belief? And then the classic Paul Simon song, "Love Me Like a Rock" played. These lyrics made me think of Kate's mom.
My mama loves me
She loves me
She gets down on her knees and hugs me
And she loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And she loves me
She loves me, loves me, loves me, loves me

Said quite perfectly, I would say.

So...what do you think Mrs. Middleton is thinking today?
As any mom, I'm sure Kate's mother only dreamed about all the wonderful things she wanted for her daughter. But do you think Mrs. Middleton ever thought her daughter would marry a prince? I think if she did that would have been a bit presumptuous, right? Whatever she is feeling today, I hope she enjoys this magical moment in life. She obviously raised a confident, beautiful, tasteful woman. She deserves to enjoy some of the fairy dust too.



And in speaking of the prayers, wishes and dreams for your kids, have you all read the Tina Fey book, Bossypants? I have not, but I've read this excerpt several times. I just love it.


“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,”she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.”

-Tina Fey

I'm certain to be back with a re-cap. Enjoy your scones and dress sighting tomorrow. Hope it's fabulous!

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