Oh, Pish Posh William

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged, but my summers are generally pretty insane and free time is sparse.  However, I was in CVS yesterday picking up some things and just as I was about to swipe my check card I glanced to my left to see the cover of this week’s Star magazine:

I paused for a second, picked it up and told the cashier to add it.   This is a terrible picture, but people were staring at me, so I had to snap quickly and move on.

Those who know me know that I love all things british.  Big Daddy calls me a Royalist and I was heckled for rooting for England in the World Cup.  I find the accent alone swoon-worthy.  (Although I realize that’s not terribly uncommon in Americans.)  I have spent years following the british monarchy and consider myself to be a bit of an expert on Henry VIII and Tudor history.  Please see me if you need to know the historical inaccuracies in Showtime’s the Tudors.  They did an excellent job, but they’re there.  Besides the obvious fact that Jonathan Rhys Myers does not actually gain weight in the show as he ages.  But in his defense, if I looked like that I wouldn’t either.  Once my friend and I were utterly convinced that we saw Prince Harry at Farragut Park in DC as we sat and ate our lunch.  We then stalked this poor soul for the next few days.  Surprise, it wasn’t him.  I recently watched Princes Charles and Princess Diana’s wedding video and may or may not have cried.  If you’re interested, you can actually see the Queen jump up with glee for a moment.

So I have followed Prince William and Harry’s lives pretty closely as they’ve grown up.  I always related to Harry a little more, being the bad boy and all (as much as I can relate considering that I am not actually royalty and certainly not a male) but William and I are closer in age, so I chose to love him more.  And now not only is he engaged (allegedly)  but he’s having a royal child out-of-wedlock (allegedly.)  I honestly could care less about that, but its clear to me that he has now in fact moved on so I think its time that I do too.

Upon further research, I’ve settled on a lovely Prince to replace him.  Prince Carl-Philip of Sweden.  I am not sure how I’ve looked over him to be honest.  I mean just look at his guy.

He’s beautiful! And much more man than boy.  And he’s not even a typical Swedish blond.  I guess it’s not a surprise, his sister Princess Madeleine looks like she’s walked off the set of a beauty pageant.  Unlike Prince Harry, he did in fact live in the U.S. for a while and studied at the Rhode Island School of Design.  I’m sorry I missed him.  Not that I’ve ever even been to Rhode Island.  What a lucky, tiny little state.

The Prince is an athlete, a Lieutenant in the Swedish Navy and somewhat of an artist.  What’s not to love?  I wonder if he knows my other swedish love, Alexander Skarsgaard.  I hope not.  I think if I saw the two together my mind might be blown.  Now if anyone needs me, I will be busying myself becoming an expert in Swedish royalty.

Confession

Ok, I have a confession to make.  Please no one ever tell my daughter how spiteful I am.  Because I will never let on to her if I can help it.  Let me start by saying that I don’t hate that many people.  Dislike, sure.  But there is one person in this world that I hate.  Just flat out despise.  She sucks at life and as a person.  It is come to my recent attention that she is getting fat (again.)  I cannot express in words how excited I got over this.

Here’s the truth:  I LOVE when people I don’t like get fat.  It’s mean and hateful, but its just the way it is.  I can’t stop myself.   There is that saying that looking good is the best revenge.  Well for me it works in reverse.

Say what you will about me, but we all know that if you saw that the kid who tormented you in junior high, or the guy that dumped you in college got fat you would secretly laugh or at least think “that’s what you get, jerk.”

Where were you five years ago when I needed you iPhone?

I’m sure everyone familiar with the dating scene could have used this at one point or another.  There’s nothing worse than a bad date.  I can recall several occasions when I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to call a girlfriend and beg them to stop what they were doing and call me back in 10 minutes with an “emergency.”  That probably sounds pretty bitchy, but you weren’t there, so you can’t judge!

The iphone has an app that actually allows you to customize fake calls to get you out awkward situations.  And it only costs .99 cents!  That’s right.  One dollar to spare your evening.  So you’ll have enough cash leftover to pay the cab driver that rescues you.  And you can even customize the caller’s name and number and set up a picture for it.  “Oh, hey mom.  WHAT?  I’ll be right there!” And you can program it in advance if you want it to call at a certain time.

The app was created by a start-up company called Magic Tap and they will donate 10% of their earnings to several unspecified charities.  How awesome is that?
http://magictap.net/

I think I just spammed my own blog.  I sound like a salesperson.  The best part?  I don’t even own an iPhone.  But seriously, good idea people.  Could have been featured on a Sex and the City episode had the time been right.

Someone call VH1

Because I am having the best week ever.  I got a new car, scored pre-sale Arcade Fire tickets and I’m down five pounds.  I love everybody!