Oh my God, you guys, it’s not my fault it’s been forever since I updated. You don’t even know what’s been going on here. Since school got out for the summer, I’ve been stuck in Genovia with Grandmere.

Why, do you ask, would a talented, hard-working college student like myself (who also happens to be a princess, with a stunningly hot longtime boyfriend who owns a multi-million dollar corporation) be living with her horribly boring grandmother for the summer, instead of doing something cool, like volunteering in the Gulf with my friends to help clean the oil-soaked birds?

Oh, that’s easy. Because Grandmere got a facelift.

IT’S NOT EVEN HER FIRST. It’s like her seventh, or something. And this time, there were “complications.”

And apparently MY summer plans are not important to this family. Because SOME people wanted to go to the World Cup. With his girlfriend.

And no one else is bossy enough to keep Grandmere from ordering Shake Weights for the entire populace with her platinum card every time she sees the ad on TV (she gets a little loopy on her pain meds, especially when she mixes them with her nightly Sidecar, which she still insists on having).

That’s fine. Whatever. I’m perfectly happy here in Genovia, watching for skin discoloration, sensitivity or swelling; facial nerve injury weakness; and dead fatty tissue. I always have had secret medical aspirations (like Dr. Quinn, Medical Woman. Only she never treated anything as STUPID AS THIS).

Grandmere is going to be fine, of course. Apparently one day the swelling will go down, and she’ll actually stop looking like Darth Vader with his helmet off.

And the good part is, she went for the full package, so they also gave her Botox in her lips, and they’re so swollen, she can’t even talk. YAY!

This leaves me free to control the remote (HA! No, Grandmere, we’re not watching your new boyfriend, Rush Limbaugh), so we’ve been watching everything the Genovian satellite TV package has to offer—all the new shows, like Huge (about weight loss camp for teens! Romance! Drama! I love it) and Royal Pains (concierge doctors in the Hamptons. I always diagnose the diseases before they do, sometimes even correctly) and Boston Med (new diseases! And traumas).

And Grandmere can’t protest! In that way, life is good.

I’ve been keeping myself occupied in other ways, as well. Like reading. Am I the only person who read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and was like, “What’s the deal with all the sandwiches?”

This is not to say I didn’t enjoy the book, because of course I did. But the heroine, Lisbeth Salander, eats six sandwiches in a single sitting. Herring, pate, salmon . . . I lost track after a while. It’s a long book, but there were still a lot of sandwiches (including bagels stuffed with roast beef, which I have personally never heard of, and I live in New York City, the bagel capital of the world).

Even after Salander saves the hero from being garroted to death, what does she do? She gives him a sandwich. He doesn’t feel much like eating a sandwich, but she forces him to anyway. He manages to choke it down (ha, get it? Choke? Never mind).

At one point, I’m pretty sure someone eats a herring sandwich. Or at least herring in some form.

But when I was in Sweden for the wedding of Crown Princess Victoria, my hosts— who couldn’t have been kinder—laughed gently when I wondered why there was never any herring on any the menus, even at of any of the restaurants they took me to (at one of which was also dining a member of Abba. Naturally).

You can’t see me. But Michael and I are standing off to the left.

Seeing a member of Abba was fabulous, of course. But I really wanted some herring. I was in Sweden! Herring to Sweden is what bagels are to New York!

But no one, I was informed, actually eats herring anymore in Sweden, especially in restaurants. Well, maybe people’s grandparents, in the North, someone said.

This wasn’t just me, either! When I asked some of the other royals (who were also there for the wedding, and also just finished the book, and saw the movie, too) if they got any herring, they said no—the same thing happened to them, too! They asked for herring, and the Stockholmers said, looking shocked, “Oh, no. No one in Sweden eats herring anymore.”

If The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo teaches us anything, besides the fact that it’s important to carb up after a choking, it’s that it isn’t true Swedes don’t eat herring. They eat it. Often in the form of sandwiches.

If you liked The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (which I thoroughly enjoyed, in spite of the slight excess of sandwiches, which I’m told were open-face, and so six was not such an excessive number), I highly recommend you sample the rest of Sweden’s amazing crime writers. Maj Sjowall and her husband, Per Wahloo, who also have the distinction of being dead, like Stieg Larsson, are my personal favorites.

(The hero, Martin Beck, consumes lots of sandwiches as well, especially in the later books, when he meets his girlfriend).

But really, I’ve yet to read one that hasn’t been pure fun, so no matter which author you pick, you can’t go wrong.

Other books I’m enjoying this summer while making sure Grandmere doesn’t die of a blood clot include:

AND THEN I FOUND OUT THE TRUTH
By Jennifer Sturman
July 2010 YA Fiction
Point/Scholastic

Booklist says this book has quirky characters, Gossip Girl–worthy label dropping, a dreamy love interest, and a mystery that ties up with happy surprises (it’s part of a series, so you might want to check out the first book).

It’s a bit shocking to see a YA where no one is in a coma or a boarding school for vampires. But I’m trying to manage my expectations.

Classy by Derek Blasberg

I saw an excerpt from this book in Teen Vogue and I ran out and bought it and I’m SO GLAD I DID. It’s taught me so much Grandmere NEVER did about being a lady in today’s society.

For instance, DON’T say bad things about people on message boards or listservs (even ones you think are private) and especially on Facebook and blogs. Though you may not believe it now, one day you might find yourself needing a favor from the very person you just had such a good time badmouthing online.

Take it from me . . . someone forwarded her what you said about her (I say this because I get forwarded the bad things people have said about me ALL THE TIME). I, of course, am too much of a princess ever to admit that I know what you said to your face.

But it’s because of what you said about me online that one time (that thing you thought I’d never see) that I’m never going to do that favor for you.

This just ONE of this book’s many excellent tips. This is a book every modern girl needs!

(Grandmere doesn’t even know what a blog is. But let me tell you, she’s on a lot of them!)

GETTING THE PRETTY BACK
By Molly Ringwald
April 2010 Nonfiction
It! Books/HarperCollins Publishers

She kissed Andrew McCarthy. Anthony Michael Hall fondled her panties. And those were just her teen years!

THE LOST SUMMER OF LOUISA MAY ALCOTT
By Kelly O’Connor McNees
April 2010 Fiction
Amy Einhorn Books/G. P. Putnam’s Sons

Before she wrote Little Woman, Louisa May wrote steamy romances under another name (like someone else I know). Now we get the dirt on her own (alleged) steamy romance!

CONFESSIONS OF A PRAIRIE BITCH
By Alison Arngrim
July 2010 Nonfiction
It! Books/HarperCollins Publishers

She played mean Nellie on LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE. What else do I need to say. And the title? Genius. I pre-ordered this with Grandmere’s platinum card the minute I heard about it.

Oh, man. I have to go. Grandmere’s bandages need to be changed.

Let this be a lesson to all of you. Do not take cosmetic surgery lightly: When they say there can be side effects, don’t think, “Oh, sure, for some people.” The SOME people could be YOU. Or your grandma.

As for me, I’ll be fine. Another thing I did with Grandmere’s platinum card is Adopt A Fisherman. Since it seems as if BP is paying more for ads on the TVs and in the local newspapers in many areas affected by the spill than they are to help support the people actually suffering from it, I think this is an excellent charity! BP has taken out a full page ad in the Key West paper every day for weeks (rumor has it this costs $3,000 per day), saying how sorry they are for the leak.

Meanwhile, captains who own charter boats find that their business is down 75%. That $3,000 per day could really help them.

(Or so I’ve heard.)

I also used Grandmere’s card to buy some new headphones, and some music, too, so I won’t be able to hear her complaining when Grandmere gets her facial mobility back. Katy Perry’s song California Gurls should be about right.

As for the rest of you, stay cool—and classy—this summer!

Love,

Mia

Today is my birthday.

Despite Grandmere insisting I spend it with her (and two hundred and fifty of her closest friends, all of whom she’s invited over to the Plaza ballroom tonight to help her celebrate. She’s been sending sample birthday cakes to the dorm all week, trying to force me to choose one I liked best, to the delight of my roommates, who were only too eager to help me sample them), and my own friends all saying, “Let’s have a party!” (you’d think they’d know better by now. Parties never turn out well for me), I opted to do what I really wanted.

That’s the difference between Me now and the Me that I used to be. I still care about making other people happy.

But I realize making myself happy is the most important thing sometimes.

And so since what I really wanted to do was come home from the dorm and sleep in my OWN room, with my head on my OWN pillow, in my OWN pajamas, with my OWN cat purring next to me, in my OWN loft, with my OWN mother next door (even if she IS in bed with my old teacher), and my OWN pigeons cooing on the fire escape outside the window, that’s exactly what I did.

Because when it’s your birthday, shouldn’t you get to do what you want?

And what I wanted was to just laze around, with no class schedule or royal agenda or bodyguards or publicists or party planners or dowager princesses or anyone to worry about pleasing for a change. Just myself!

It was utter bliss.

I had a great morning eating homemade waffles with Mom and Mr. G and Rocky (who is really very verbal now. Perhaps a little TOO verbal. Maybe Mom and Mr. G should think about establishing a time-out corner for him, in fact. Everything is “MINE.” Particularly when it came to the maple syrup. Poor Fat Louie. But I suppose he’ll get it all licked off eventually).

Then I took a long hot bath (I added bubbles so it was just like Elizabeth Arden’s Red Door Spa, where Grandmere wanted to take me this morning, except that Mom fought her off. And Fat Louie was sitting there, licking the maple syrup off. My bathroom, which locks, is the only place he’s safe from Rocky), while I read through all my old diaries.

My goodness, but I used to write about my breasts a lot. Why did I care? Certain parties find them quite delightful exactly as they are. I must admit, so do I. What was I so worried about it? Girls can be weird.

I’m supposed to go meet Tina and Lily and those guys for lunch at Barolo (May 1 is the first day they open their back garden for Spring al fresco dining), and then Michael later on for a romantic dinner he’s preparing just for me at his place. Michael makes the BEST pasta.

I have no idea what Michael’s getting me for my birthday, but I really hope it isn’t an iPad. Mom and Mr. G and Dad and Grandmere (because her new boyfriend is Steven Jobs) all gave me iPads as gifts already and honestly, I can’t say I find them all that useful. I mean, yes, they’re nice (and I know they’ll make lovely party favors for the girls at lunch today), but I can’t figure out how to get to Word to work on them so I can start my new novel.

Lars said, “It doesn’t have Word, it’s a reader, not a word processor. You’re supposed to play on it, not work,” which makes no sense to me.

I don’t want to read books on a computer. I want to read books in a bathtub, like a normal person, and turn the page without have to worry about getting electrocuted.

So I’m not sure an iPad works for me.

I doubt Michael will give me an iPad, he knows I’m not an early adopter. I still only have two apps on my iPhone and one of them I can’t even figure out how to work. I think he’s getting me something more romantic than iPad. Something like—

Oh, my iPhone is ringing. At least answering it is one of the apps I understand . . . .

Lana just called to explain why she isn’t going to be able to make it to my birthday lunch (not that we’ll really miss her. Well, I will. She’s always amusing to have around when she starts in about how many guys she’s dumped at Duke so far.)

“It’s because I’m filming my own reality series,” Lana said. There was a lot of noise in the background of wherever she was calling from.

“Excuse me?” I asked. I have to admit, even though it was Lana, I was surprised. A reality show?

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s such a pain. This film crew is following me around everywhere. And anyway, right now I’m in a recording studio, because I’m about to cut a single.”

This was even more surprising. I didn’t know Lana could sing. “You are?”

“Well, yeah, why not? I mean, if all those dumb housewives can do it, so can I. Only my song’s actually going to be good.” Lana snapped her gum. “We’re going to release it as a dance mix in Europe first this summer, so you’ll probably hear it in over Genovia when school let’s out. It won’t drop in the US until the fall.”

“Uh,” I said. “I can’t wait. What’s your song called?”

“Put It In My Candy Hole,” Lana said, matter-of-factly.

I nearly dropped my phone.

“Lana,” I said. “You can’t call a song that.”

“Why not?” Lana asked. “It’s a brilliant hook. About a girl who likes candy? Hello. What could be better?”

“Lana,” I said. “I don’t think that’s—”

“Don’t be jealous, Mia. I told you to call your book that, but you wouldn’t use it. It could have been a huge bestseller, but no. You snooze, you lose. Here, I’ll give you an exclusive sneak preview. Listen. Guys. GUYS! Hit it. From the top.”

Then Lana’s band started playing. And Lana began to sing her soon-to-be number one hit single. Boy, was I ever shocked.

I like candy, I’m a candy kind of girl
If you’ve got candy, wanna give me a whirl
I like candy, I eat it when I can
If you’ve got candy, wanna be my candy man?

Oh candy man, candy man,
won’t you be my candy man?
Put it in my candy hole, candy hole
Put it in my candy hole, candy hole
Then you’ll be my candy man
If you can’t do it, there’s lots of boys who can

“Uh, Lana,” I tried to say. But there was too much electronic synthesizer for her to hear me.

I like candy, I eat it every day
From Easter Island to Hershey P.A.
But your candy
is something I’ve been missing
Like your lips,
I shoulda been kissing
Just put them in my candy hole, candy hole
And I’ll spin that candy into gold

Oh candy man, candy man won’t you be my candy man?
Put it in my candy hole, candy hole
Put it in my candy hole, candy hole
Then you’ll be my candy man
If you can’t do it, there’s lots of boys who can

“Listen, Lana,” I said. “I really think you might want to—”

But Lana was revving up for the big finale.

If you like candy then you’ll like me
And candyland is where you’ll be
I’ll zoom on up in my car made of licorice
But you know its you who’ll soon be feelin’ ticklish
We’ll drive away into a sunset made of cocoa
And there’s just one thing that you and I will know know

And that’s that you’ll be putting it
in my candy hole, candy hole
Put it in my candy hole, candy hole
Put it in my candy hole, candy hole
And forever be my candy man, candy man
If you can’t do it, No one can

“Wow,” I said, when the last note had died away. Really, I didn’t know what else to say.

“I know,” Lana said, coughing modestly. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to forget the little people when I win my Grammy for Best Album of the Year.”

“No,” I said. “I mean, wow, there is no way that song is going to air on American radio. It’s way too dirty.”

“No, it isn’t,” Lana said. “It’s about candy! I mean, have you ever listened to some of the stuff Ke$ha is out there singing? It’s about getting drunk.”

“Yeah, but,” I said, “she isn’t telling guys to put it in her candy hole.”

“Do you even know what a candy hole is, Mia?” Lana asked, skeptically.

“Um,” I said. “No. But I have a pretty good idea.”

“Mia,” Lana said. “Now you’re just being gross. A candyhole is what kids cut out of the box when they dress as a robot for Halloween. It’s for parents to put the candy through, because the kids’ arms are stuck inside the box and they can’t hold out their trick-or-treating bag. The candy hole is where you stuff all the candy.”

I blinked at her. “Really?”

“Of course!” Lana was laughing. “What did you think it was?”

“Um,” I said. “Something else.”

“Well, you have a dirty mind,” Lana said. “My song is about candy. And holes. God, dirty girl.”

“Oh,” I said. “Okay. Sorry. Well, can you tell me what channel this series is going to be on?” I wanted to be sure not to miss it. It sounded like it was going to be way better than The Hills.

“Oh,” Lana said, snapping her gum. “We haven’t been picked up yet. But it’s only a matter of time. If Sarah Palin can get a reality series sold, I can. I mean, her series is set in Alaska, and she’s like, old. I’m a college co-ed and recording an album and am totally hot.”

“Right,” I said. “Well, keep me posted.”

“I totally will,” Lana said. “And anyway, happy birthday!”

“Oh,” I said. “Thanks.”

“And keep your candy hole covered if you don’t want anyone shoving candysticks through it!” Lana cackled and hung up.

I hung up too, reflecting that it didn’t really matter what Michael gave me for my birthday tonight.

Lana had already given me the greatest gift I could ever receive:

A glimpse into her sheer, utter genius. Which she was soon about to shed upon the world. I had no doubt she’d be successful, and that the world would be a better place for it.

Honestly, if she can’t do it, no one can.

Love,

Mia

Grandmere just barged in here and said she read in a magazine her latest spa appointment that Tweeter and MyFace are among the best ways to reach out to the common populace.

I assured her she meant Twitter and Facebook and she said, “You needn’t be so condescending, Amelia. We must update your frog!”

Apparently Grandmere has some things she wants to say about the Oscar fashions, even though that’s old news now (kind of like Grandmere).

I knew this was too good an opportunity to miss so I threw a pillow at Lily who was crashed under a pile of laundry on my guest bed (her roommate kicked her out for the weekend because her parents are visiting. Lily’s recently taken up Wicca in an effort to freak out their religious RA).

Then I sent the limo for Tina, because I knew we needed her the way the Obama health care bill needs Dr. Oz.

Here’s the transcript, in case you’re interested:

Mia, Tina, Lily and Grandmere Critique the Oscar Fashions

Demi Moore

Grandmere: Amelia, this is exactly what I was warning you about the other day. Always check to make sure your dress isn’t the same color as your flesh. It’s rule number one of fashion.

Mia: Got it, Grandmere.

Tina: Oooh, I love it! Look at all the ruffles!

Lily: That reminds me. Mia, stop hogging all the chips and salsa.

Diane Kruger

Grandmere: You see? Just because something is designer doesn’t mean it’s flattering to your figure.

Mia: But she was good in Inglorious Basterds.

Tina: It’s nice from the waist up, though.

Lily: Really, Tina. Don’t you ever have anything bad to say about anything? Is this because Boris bones you every night?

Tina: Oh, my goodness.

Grandmere: A hard man is good to find. I remember when I was in college—

Mia: You were never in college, Grandmere. Next photo please.

George Clooney and friend

Grandmere: Back to what I was saying about a hard man being good to find—

Mia: Michael looks just like that in a tux. Without the grey.

Lily: Uh, my brother looks NOTHING like this.

Tina: Her dress is so pretty!

Cameron Diaz

Grandmere: Amelia, I’m going to have Paolo make something like this for you for Prince William’s wedding, so he can see what he missed.

Mia: Yes, please.

Tina: Can I have one, too?

Lily: She looks like that Barbie you used to have, Mia. The one I threw on the roof.

Kristen Stewart

Grandmere: Disappointing lack of jewels. I highly disapprove. Where is her tiara?

Mia: Jewels would have distracted from the beautiful cut of the gown.

Tina: She’s a classic beauty. She didn’t need any other adornment.

Lily: Why did she scratch herself so much while she was presenting, though? Fleas from her werewolf boyfriend? HA HA HA.

Mia: You’re so stupid sometimes, Lily.

Jeff Bridges and wife

Grandmere: A marriage that has spanned decades, just like his career.

Mia: You might want to consider a dress like the one she’s got on, Grandmere, instead of those sleeveless numbers you always wear. Just a suggestion.

Grandmere: But then how I will show off how toned my arms have become from all the plastic surgery I’ve had?

Mia: Oh, ugh, did we really need to know that?

Tina: They look so sweet together!

Lily: Crazy Heart was just a family friendly The Wrestler.

Queen Latifah

Grandmere: So am I to understand anyone may call herself a queen in America, and we’re all supposed to just o along with it? What is she queen of, precisely?

Mia: Grandmere! She’s amazing. She can call herself queen anytime she wants.

Tina: I think she’s queen of that dress.

Lily: Mia, I swear to God, if you don’t quit hogging the chips I’m going to steal Lars’s gun and shoot you in the back of the head with it.

Molly Ringwald

Grandmere: Who, precisely, is this? Wonder Woman? Is that her special insignia on her belt, to signify her superpower?

Mia: Grandmere! That’s Molly Ringwald! She was in Pretty in Pink! She looks great!

Tina: I love her hair.

Lily: I wonder if she made that dress herself, like in the movie.

Mia: Oooh, good point.

Charlize Theron

Grandmere: This is precisely what I wanted to warn you about, Amelia. This is what’s known as—

Mia: I know. Group think. Everyone tells you it’s great, you don’t get enough fresh opinions, and you go out looking like a stripper on prom night.

Grandmere: That is not what I was going to say at all. I was going to say, “This is what’s known as a shocking lack of jewelry.”

Mia: WHAT?

Tina: I think it’s pretty.

Lily: Tina. This would be pretty for the porn awards. But that’s not what she was wearing this to.

Gabourey Sibide

Grandmere: Tasteful yet makes a statement. I predict this girl will go a long way. She, too, needs a great deal more jewelry. I don’t know what all these young girls are thinking.

Tina: Her dress has tons of diamonds on it, Your Majesty.

Grandmere: Highness. I am only a Dowager Princess, Miss Hakim Baba. That makes me Your Highness to you.

Tina: I’m so sorry, Your Highness.

Lily: Precious made me want to put a bullet in my own head. Though Gabby was good in it.

Mia: I know, right? And so was Mariah. And M’Onique.

Sandra Bullock

Grandmere: That lipstick is atrocious. No wonder her husband strayed.

Mia: Grandmere! We’re talking about dresses here! Not people’s love lives. Besides, what about you? You’ve had plenty of guys call the tabloids and say that you two have—

Grandmere: Being a royal is so difficult in this day and age. Everyone wants to take advantage. And Mario was such an excellent masseuse. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him. And that tattoo didn’t stand for White Pride, it stood for—

Tina: Cough. Sandra looks amazing. I wish her all the best.

Lily: This is a classic example of “If you visualize it, it will come.” She dressed as an Oscar, and look what happened?

Mia: Right. She’ll come out on top, because she’s strong and funny, and she won’t let anyone take advantage of her.

Helen Mirren

Grandmere: Perfection.

Mia: I have to say . . . Grandmere is right, for once.

Tina: I hope I look like her at her age. I wish I looked like her NOW.

Lily: Oh, my God, Mia, how long has this cheese been in your fridge? Don’t you have a maid or something to clean this thing out?

Mariah Carey

Grandmere: This is, of course, completely, inappropriate.

Mia: I think it looks good from the top, but then your gaze strays downward, and you think—

Grandmere: Exactly. Where is her NECKLACE?

Mia: Okay, moving along.

Tina: Oh, my God, LILY! Don’t wave that in my face!

Lily: I don’t think it IS cheese.

Rachel McAdams

Grandmere: Prints are never appropriate at a formal event.

Mia: I think I’m going to give you this one, Grandmere.

Tina: I think she—

Lily: We know. She looks pretty. But she also looks like she’s wearing the bedspread from a motel room.

Sigourney Weaver

Lily: Wait. Let me do this one: “Go back! Go back to Pandora!”

Grandmere: Well done, Miss Moscovitz!

Mia: I wish you would both leave now if you aren’t going to take this seriously.

Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick

Grandmere: Is Miss Parker with child? Is that a baby bump I see? If not, then why no waist line?

Tina: She can’t be pregnant. She just had twins with a surrogate! And it was horrible, the sheriff of this town, he tried to blackmail—

Mia: Tina. She’s being sarcastic. She doesn’t like the dress.

Tina: Oh. But I just can’t wait for Sex in the City 2 and I think she looks—

Lily: Don’t say it.

Tina: —Pretty.

Tina Fey

Grandmere: Good heavens.

Mia: It’s unfair to put writers on here. They aren’t professional movie stars.

Tina: And this is a very unflattering photo. She looked very nice in that dress in real life. At least on TV.

Grandmere: I only meant, where is her NECKLACE?

Lily: I’ll give you a necklace, you old biddy.

Grandmere: What was that, Miss Moscovitz?

Lily: Would you like a Red Bull, Your Highness?

Grandmere: I would not. I find that drink vulgar. Unless mixed with Grey Goose vodka.

Vera Farmiga

Grandmere: Is this young lady supposed to be dressed as a sea anemone?

Mia: Stop! Just stop it!

Grandmere: Perhaps she’s a clam. I would welcome anything that looked like that on a sea food tower served to me at Maxim’s.

Mia: I loved her in Up in the Air!

Tina: I think it’s the camera angle.

Lily: I think this dress would rock as a project for my 3-D class.

Miley Cyrus

Grandmere: This child needs to learn to stand up straight and stop smirking into the camera.

Mia: Grandmere, that’s Miley Cyrus. She’s like a bazillionaire.

Grandmere: Then she ought to know better than to wear what appears to be lingerie and a petticoat to an evening event.

Tina: Oh, dear.

Lily: This is awesome. This is like the best day I’ve had in weeks.

Maggie Gyllenhall

Grandmere: What in the name of God was this young woman thinking? Did she mistake the Oscars for a Luau?

Mia: Yeah. It maybe isn’t what I would have chosen.

Tina: She still looks really beautiful.

Lily: In a million years I never believed her character would fall for Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart. She was way too pretty. And young. He was a drunk, and she left him with her young child after admitting she didn’t trust men? Unbelievable. Literally.

Carey Mulligan

Grandmere: While this young woman isn’t wearing a necklace, her dress is dripping with enough jewels that it doesn’t matter. You see that, Amelia?

Mia: Those aren’t jewels, Grandmere. They’re tiny scissors and stuff.

Grandmere: Good heavens. I withdraw my approval.

Tina: I think she looks amazing!

Lily: I wish they were real chainsaws. And that they worked. And she’d mowed down all the reporters from E!

Zoe Saldana

Grandmere: I don’t know who this young woman is, but she reminds me of someone. . . I can’t think who . . .

Mia: She was the star of Avatar and Star Trek. She looks gorgeous.

Grandmere: I didn’t see either of those films.

Tina: I love that dress. I wish it came in a size 14.

Lily: Good luck with that. Most fashion designers are totally sizeist.

Grandmere: I know! Rommel! She looks exactly like Rommel!

Mia: Your hairless miniature poodle???

Grandmere: Yes, of course, with the poofs on the end. It reminds me of Rommel’s tail, back when he used to have fur.

Mia: I don’t think so, Grandmere.

Kate Winslet

Grandmere: Classic and cool. So typical of Kate Hepburn.

Mia: Kate Winslet you mean, Grandmere.

Grandmere: That’s what I said.

Mia: That isn’t what you said.

Grandmere: I think I know what I said, Amelia.

Tina: I think everyone looks great!

Lily: Don’t you people have anything better to do than sit around and critique other people’s clothes? There are babies dying in Rwanda right now? Oh, is that Johnny Depp?

Amanda Seyfried

Grandmere: Is she planning on a round of archery later?

Mia: I do love this dress. But not the wrist cuff.

Tina: The wrist cuff is different. I like that she wants to be different.

Lily: When can we order in some pizza?

J Lo

Grandmere: Now this is a dress!

Mia: Uh…I think there were some more flattering photos of her in this dress somewhere else—let me see if I can find them….

Grandmere: Who is this woman? Royalty? She must be royalty. Look at her regal bearing! That carriage, so erect. Those hips, so ripe for child bearing! She must surely be the greatest star of all time!

Mia: Grandmere, that’s J Lo.

Grandmere: Who?

Tina: Jennifer Lopez, Your Highness. She’s a rock star. Er, I guess she’s been in some movies, too. Maid in Manhattan? Oh, and Enough. I love Enough.

Grandmere: She should be in every movie ever made. She is beauty.

Lily: Your grandmere is a mental case, Mia.

Mia: You’re only figuring that out now?

Meryl Streep

Grandmere: Shocking. Simply shocking. How they could let this woman out of the house dressed this way, I will never know.

Mia: Grandmere! She looks great! She looks way classier than you ever have!

Grandmere: But she has no necklace!

Mia: That’s it. I give up.

We had to break off after this to get pizza, as everyone was light-headed from stress and arguing.

(We recovered after an extra large with cheese and mushrooms.)

This concludes our critique of the Oscar fashions. I hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks for reading!

Love,

Mia

I’m more dismayed than I can say at missing a Valentine’s Day post on this blog!

Grandmére, who turns out to have been reading this blog all along, is the one who pointed that out.

She wasn’t too happy to hear that I even have a blog (or a flog, as she’s now calling it). But she says if I’m going to take on a commitment to my subjects, I had better do it right, the way a good princess should.

And so, duly chastened by Grandmére, I’m going to try to make it up to you, loyal readers, by posting clips from some of my—ow. OK, Lily is here visiting, and she says to add that they’re HERS, too—favorite romantic films of all time.

OK, as Lily says, enough talking, more posting:

1. The wet shirt scene in Pride and Prejudice (obviously):

Nice, right?

Okay, so now Tina just called and asked what we were doing and I told her, and she said to be sure to add the clip below. And don’t tell Boris!

2. The Lay All Your Love on Me Scene from Mamma Mia:




Tina’s right, as always.

All the Mr. Darcy scenes in Bridget Jones are hot (Lily wanted me to put just the fight scenes between him and Daniel, but that’s silly, and besides, embedding is disabled. You can click on it here though if you want). But we couldn’t put them ALL.

3. So here are just a few of the Mr. Darcy scenes in Bridget Jones:

Oh, Mr. Darcy!

Some people criticized this version of Jane Eyre for being too hot. But how can there be such a thing? And how do we know Charlotte Bronte didn’t picture it this way in her head? Just because she didn’t write, “then he ate her face” doesn’t mean she didn’t intend for him to do so. Sensibilities were more delicate back then, and she probably didn’t want to offend anyone.

OW, Lily, stop hitting me! I’m posting it already!

4. Hot Mr. Rochester trying to talk Jane into staying with him in this version of Jane Eyre:

Long, but worth it!

Of course there are a lot more, but we don’t have time to put them all up here, because we’re college students and one of us is a princess, and both of us have boyfriends waiting to go out for pizza.

If you have clips you want us to add, write to us at miathermopolis@earthlink.net and we’ll try to put them in another post.

Edited to add later:

OK, Grandmére just read this (WHY IS SHE READING MY BLOG???) and she says that I am to humbly apologize to you, my royal subjects. I’m sorry. Of course I always have time for you.

And, no, Grandmére, I haven’t forgotten the most romantic movie of all time! Here it is:

5. Charade starring Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant: the shower scene

(I suppose that’s what Grandmére thinks Michael does when he comes to visit me here in the dorm: Shower with his clothes on. HA! HA HA!)

OK, I just need to remember to delete that last part before I post so Grandmére doesn’t read it!

Love,

Mia

(AND LILY!)

I know what you’re thinking!  

You’re wondering what happened with Miss Polly Lollykins.

Never fear:  I made sure that she was returned (all parts fully in tact) to her rightful owner…

…after a small ransom was paid (in Grandma’s Cookies).

If you don’t know what Grandma’s Cookies are, they’re this type of cookie they sell in the student-run co-op where we go to buy all our snacks during study breaks.  

I’d never heard of Grandma’s Cookies before I came here to school, either, but they’re just like Oreos, only better, because Grandma made them.

(Ha, no.  She doesn’t, really.  At least, not my Grandma)!

I like the peanut butter kind best. They’re just so…chemically.

You would think Pamela would have caught on that her SUITEMATES were the kidnappers since all we asked for in return of her doll was 10 packs of peanut butter-flavored Grandma’s Sandwich Cookies (our favorite flavor).

And then afterwards, we were always sitting around, eating peanut butter-flavored Grandma’s Cookies.

But maybe she just didn’t want to believe it. She preferred to go on thinking the kidnapper was Michael. He’s so sweet, he played along.

Yes, my boyfriend is willing to pretend to be a kidnapper for me!

So, now it’s holiday break time and finals are over, and I made it through thanks to having so many Grandma’s Cookies.

And, OK, I know it was wrong to steal Pamela’s doll and that I’m a princess and a role model and I should have told my suitemates to stop torturing Pamela.

But college is for acting crazy! I could be doing much worse things! And Pamela actually liked the attention.

And it turns out cookies taste much better when they’re a doll’s ransom!

Speaking of ransom….

OMG, you guys, Ransom My Heart is finally out in England!

You can walk into any bookstore there and buy it!

It actually makes a brilliant gift, because all the author proceeds go to Greenpeace, so you’re doing something good for the environment and tiny baby penguins and seals and stuff when you buy a copy.

And look how gorgeous the UK cover is:

So pretty!

So for the holidays I’m off to Genovia (of course), but I didn’t want to go without dropping you a line to say I’ll be thinking about you while Grandmere is torturing me! Have a very happy Hanukkah, a great Christmas, an amazing Kwanzaa, and of course, an incredible New Year!

Love,

Mia

I know! You’re all, “Mia, why haven’t you updated your blog in so long?”

But hey, I was busy all summer, running the Royal Genovian Health and Wellness Awareness Center!

Which was very good training for running a small European principality someday, if you ask me. I mean, if you take into account all of the staffing issues we had, given the number of therapists who kept threatening to quit because they didn’t want to be the one to give Grandmere her weekly colonic.

(I know, ew, right?)

Anyway, I’m just glad the Health and Wellness Center is such an unqualified success, and that things are finally back to normal now (if by normal you mean my proposed solution to overcome Genovia’s temporarily shaky economic situation was implemented successfully, I’m back in the USA, and finally have steady access to wi-fi).

School has started, and this year—as opposed to my freshman year—I’m doing things right. I’m not letting any advisor talk me into taking classes that start before eleven in the morning (especially not some stupid fitness classes. What was I thinking???).

That’s right! I get to sleep in (or, if I’m spending the night in the city for any reason, such as–cough-spending-the-night-at-Michael’s-cough—I don’t have to break my neck rushing to get the train back to campus to get to class on time).

Yay me!

And I’m not taking anything that involves math. No! Nothing! I swear this semester I’m going to get straight As.

And best of all…I got to pick my own suitemates!

So I actually know the people I’m living with, as opposed to walking in and finding myself surrounded by a bunch of freaks.

Oh, I guess that sounds kind of harsh…especially since it just so happens that the freaks I walked in to find myself surrounded by last year are some of my best friends now!

In fact, we all chose to live together again this year (they don’t mind Lars. Actually, I’m pretty sure Shawna asked him out, even though neither one of them will discuss this with me. And of course Lars said no. Lars better have said no!).

But that was just luck! I mean that I got randomly assigned such wonderful freaks as my suitemates.

My feelings about this year was, better a freak you know than a freak you don’t, right?

Ha ha!

Oh, gotta go, Shawna’s kidnapped Pamela’s Cabbage Patch Doll, Miss Polly Lollykins, and we’re going to send P. a fake ransom note.

Miss Polly Lollykins

I’m in charge of cutting out the letters for the note from Olivia’s collection of Bust Magazines. Emily is in charge of slipping the note under Pamela’s door. Then we’re all going to run.

Love,

Mia

P.S. Ha. Farah from across the hall just caught us running past and said we’re “so juvenile” (she thinks she’s so much more mature than we are. Typical psych major).

But no one else pays any attention to Pamela at all because she’s so shy and boring. I personally think it’s quite nice of us to kidnap Miss Polly Lollykins.

P.P.S. Oh, dear. Well, since I wrote that last part everything’s gone horribly wrong: Pamela got the ransom note and she’s deliriously happy about the kidnapping.

But for all the wrong reasons: Pamela thinks MICHAEL is behind it.

I’m not sure why. He doesn’t even go here. I mean, he just stops by to visit sometimes.

Emily says she thinks Pamela has a little crush on Micheal!

I sort of suspected something of the sort.

But I just thought it was one of those harmless little things that would never go anywhere.

But now it has gone somewhere, and turned out not to be so harmless. Our little prank that was meant to make Pamela feel special has made her feel a little too special!

It’s made her think my boyfriend is into her!

This is not good.

She’s on the phone with her mom right now, bragging to her that the boyfriend of the Princess of Genovia has kidnapped her Cabbage Patch Doll.

Um, hello.  I don’t know whether to feel sorry for her or go over there and punch her in the face.

Deep breath.  I’m a princess.

Shawna says we can fix it by hanging Miss Polly Lollykins from a chain by her neck out the quad window.

But Olivia says that’s going too far. And I sort of agree. I mean, Miss Polly Lollykins is just an innocent victim in all of this.

I won’t let Shawna cut off one of Miss Polly’s fingers to send to Pamela as a warning, either.

Oh, dear.  Why do these things always happen to me???

More soon.

I know, it’s been ages since I last posted.

But as you can imagine, a LOT has been going on: Final exams. Saying goodbye to all my friends here at school and moving out of the dorms for summer break. The thing coming out in the press about Grandmere and Mel Gibson (you’d think I’d stop being shocked by her love affairs by now.  But she still never ceases to surprise me). 

But all that’s behind me now, and it’s SUMMER!  And I’m out of school, and finally home!

Well, not in the loft.  I was there for a little while. But then because of the thing with Grandmere, Dad was like, “You need to come help me do some reputation repair.”           

So I only got to hang at the loft with Mom and Rocky and Mr. G for a couple of days before I had to jet off to Genovia, where I’m probably going to be stuck for the rest of the summer.

I’d say it wasn’t fair, but I know better than that by now.  It’s all part of the princess thing.  It comes with the tiara. 

I mean, yeah, so okay, Lilly gets to spend the summer in the city doing a fantastic internship with the New York Times. 

And Tina gets to do one in the Village with St. Vincent’s Hospital.

And Boris is going to be playing in the orchestra that accompanies Shakespeare in the Park (which isn’t that great if you ask me because it’s going to be hot and I’ve seen how he sweats when he plays.  I asked Tina if he has to wear a tux and she says for at least one of the plays he has to a wear a troubadour costume.  Ha!  I might just fly back for that one.  Boris in tights?  Yes, please.  I might never die laughing.  Or throw up.  I’m not sure which).

Lana, of course, was too busy partying this past semester to look for an internship, so she has to spend the summer working in her dad’s office (she’s lucky she didn’t get stuck in summer school, repeating her course work), since that was the only thing she could get.

She said not to worry, though, she’s got a friend from Penn whose parents are going to be in Europe for the summer, so they can use his house in the Hamptons to party every weekend.

Oh, Lana! It’s good to know some people never really change, I guess (she says she has three more years to “get serious”). 

Shameeka is the one everyone is jealous of, though.  She got an actual paying job.  AT THE WHITE HOUSE.

Yes, we all hate her now (ha, not really.  I mean, really she got a job but the White House, but no, we don’t really hate her).

I’m the only one who will be stuck working for her dad (oh, wait…well, besides Lana), supervising the opening of the new Royal Genovian Health and Wellness Awareness Center (formerly the Prince Christoffe Casino and Hotel).

But in a fiscal crisis (the current global economic recession has hit Genovia hard.  Practically no one can afford to come to a mile-long Mediterranean resort paradise to gamble, relax, sail their yacht, and shop anymore), Dad says you have to think outside the box.  We can’t just depend on tourist income from cruise ship day trippers (not to mention the fact that the cruise ships are polluting our waters and killing our reefs).           

But the one thing everyone needs, recession or not, is healthcare. 

That’s how I got the idea for the Health and Wellness Center!  Why not make Genovia, in addition to being a vacation destination, a place where you can have all your healthcare needs met as well? 

Need a complete routine physical along with an MRI and CAT scan to check for cancerous tumors? Check into our luxurious and beautiful wellness center (and spa), get all of that done in one day, enjoy a romantic sunset over the Mediterranean, have a cocktail and dinner, play some baccarat, maybe do some shopping in the morning after brunch, play some golf, get your results and your prescriptions, and you’re done! 

Bingo.  Genovia is suddenly the healthcare destination of Europe, for anyone who is worried about that mole or lump but doesn’t want to wait around in an icky doctor’s office, and wants to throw in a vacation, too.

I always knew my chronic hypochondria was going to pay off someday.  I got a genius business idea because of it!

The entire Saudi Arabian royal family has already checked in.  The princesses are running around, getting their mammograms, while the princes are having their colonoscopies. I’ve laid out a few complimentary copies of “Ransom My Heart.”  Just enough for the ladies to start fighting over.  If they want more, they’ll be able to find them in the gift shop.  Hey, I want to make sure Greenpeace gets its cut!

Of course, to make up for Mel Gibsongate, we’ve invited 50 low income families for medical screening, treatment, and pampering, as well.  Grandmere is fit to be tied about it.  She keeps asking, “Who let those people in here?”  Dad has to remind her that there are seven little Gibsons whose parents are getting a divorce because of her, and that even the Pope can’t believe what she did.

But Grandmere is just all, “I’m not the one who told him to make Lethal Weapon 4.” She refuses to take any responsibility whatsoever for her actions, as usual.  She won’t even admit to having broken Mel’s heart, and being the reason why he’s taken up with that other woman. 

It’s all just so typically Grandmere.

But in the end—and not to be selfish, or anything—it’s all worked out great for me. Pavlov  Medical is partnering with the Royal Genovian Health and Wellness Awareness Center, and is the firm supplying all the medical equipment. 

So I get to see my boyfriend all break!

I really think it’s going to be the best summer ever.   

Oops, I have to go.  The royal Saudi princesses are calling me to join them for pedicures.  They want to know if there’s a sequel to “Ransom My Heart.”  I might make one up just for them. They’re going to need it.  They have no idea how grumpy their husbands are going to be when they get out of those colonoscopies.  Dad got one the other day so he could assure the princes it was nothing to worry about….

Oh my God, I couldn’t believe how cranky he was.  

Of course, I shouldn’t have let him order those chicken wings from the palace menu when he woke up.  I don’t know what I was thinking!  But that’s what he said he wanted.  Never again.  In fact, I’m thinking about having them taken off the menu.

Bye for now!

Love,

 

Mia

I know!  I haven’t updated in forever. 

 

But school is hard.             

 

And so is being a princess. 

 

Not to mention being a romance author.

 

Try combining all three!

 

Although being a romance author is actually a lot easier during a world wide global economic crisis than you might think.  Because who doesn’t want to escape into a fun romance novel in order to escape their troubles?

 

So good news!  Ransom My Heart will be coming out soon(ish…think this summer) in France!  Here’s the cover:

 

 

 

I’ll admit it isn’t very Fabioesque.  But it gets the point across.  In translation, it says, roughly:

 

A novel by a Princess:  Now let’s move on to super serious things

 

Okay, I don’t really get how that translates to Ransom My Heart either. 

 

And I’ve been told the publisher is removing some of the, um, steamier passages so they can keep the book in the children’s section (???). 

 

But, hey…whatever I have to do to keep the money flowing to Greenpeace.  Right?  I mean, look at this face:

 

I’m going to deny this face because the French want to remove a few nipple references?  Mais non!

 

It will still be the same book, just slightly abridged.

 

Anyway, it’s spring break, and guess where I am?  If you guessed Genovia, you’d be correct!

 

It’s super sunny and nice here. You should totally book a visit if you haven’t made your spring break plans yet.

 

 

Sadly, I’m not alone.  Or rather, not as alone as I’d like to be—I’m with my significant other.  THAT part is fine. 

 

It’s just that every single person I know, it seems like, has invited him or herself here for break along with us! 

 

Fortunately it’s too hot for certain of  them to wear sweaters and tuck them in to his pants. If that happened, my romantic spring break would be ruined FOR SURE.

 

 

Oh well.  Next time, I’ll know better than to tell anyone (other than my boyfriend) where I’m going!

 

Hope you’re having a great spring break!  Talk to you soon!

 

 

Love,

 

Mia

 

So many wonderful things have been going on since I last posted! Well, not school-related things, of course–although I do love school. Have you ever heard the expression, if you hate high school, you’ll love college? IT’S SO TRUE!

Anyway, being back in school after break is going fine, especially since this semester I didn’t listen to my advisor, and now I don’t have a single class that starts before eleven. SCORE!!!!

So things are going much better than they were last semester when I had one seminar that started at 8AM. What was I thinking? Never take a class that starts before eleven (if you can avoid it). That’s my motto for college.

Another tip? A good breakfast to get you through the day equals chocolate croissant + large chai = yum!

But, what I mean by things going well is, I finally got to see some of those interviews I did—you know, the ones I was talking about in this blog a few months ago?

It’s weird being an author because you do a lot of publicity stuff for your book way before it ever comes out and then you don’t see the results until way after the book arrives on store shelves….

And, well, anyway, here’s a link to the interview I did in Romantic Times Magazine. I think it turned out pretty well!

And then I got asked to write a little post for a website called Dear Author about what it was like the day I found out I was going to get published. Here’s a link to that as well. I think it turned out pretty well, too.

So, I’ve been getting a little bit of fan mail! The Royal Genovian Press office handles the fan mail I receive in my capacity as a member of the Royal House of Renaldo. Mail I receive as an author is another matter entirely.

So I thought I’d try to tackle some of it here in my blog:

Hi Mia,

Just finished your lastest book Ransom My Heart and I absolutly loved it!!!! AND I love that you donated the proceeds to Greenpeace. I was just wondering whether there is a sequel in the making….
Rene

Hi, Rene! Thank you so much for writing! I’m glad you support Greenpeace, as well.

As for a sequel to Ransom My Heart, I just don’t know. I definitely plan to write more books, and maybe even another medieval romance, but not with those same characters (but possibly their offspring).

Right now though I’m pretty busy. Writing is really important to me but so is not flunking out of college.

Hi Royal Highness! Your book was great. I had stopped reading romance novels other than those by Betty Neels and Georgette Heyer, but I will buy any future ones you write. Ransom was well written and entertaining.

Thanks for the terrific book!
Sheila

Thank you so much, Sheila! I love books by Georgette Heyer, too– she’s one of my all time favorites, in fact!

I’ve never tried any books by Betty Neels (my friend Tina, who is my romance novel coach, must have missed her) but based on your recommendation, I definitely will! I love discovering new authors.

Princess Mia, I loved Ransom My Heart! I think it might be my all time favorite romance! Which makes me wonder…what’s YOUR all time favorite romance?

Heather

What an appropriate question, Heather, considering it’s Valentine’s Day this month!

The only problem is, it’s really hard question to answer, considering I have so many favorites.

I think this one might be my all time favorite:

The illustrations are so weirdly beautiful…but the writing is beautiful too.

On the other hand, of course I’ve also always love this one:

And this one:

And this one:

And this one:

…not to mention all the other ones I can’t remember at the moment.

Oh, I guess could never choose just one! I have lots of favorites!

Hi! I just wanted to know if there is a different title to Ransom My Heart in the UK?

Thank you! Zaynah

Hi, Zaynah! The good news is, Ransom My Heart will have the same title in the UK as it does in the US.

Now for the bad news: I just heard that Ransom My Heart won’t be out in the UK until December 2009!

I’m so sorry for the delay, but they are making it a Christmas release.

But with the above list of titles I’ve just mentioned, you should have plenty to read to keep you occupied until then! Or at least until the end of this month.

And in the meantime, if you’re feeling sad, you can always Cornify this page by clicking this button:

I have to go now. I have to figure out what I’m going to get a certain someone for Valentine’s Day (even if he doesn’t necessarily believe in it).

Love,

Mia

Hi! I’m writing this from the Inaugural Balls! Yes, the Genovian Royal Palace received invitations to the Inauguration, so I’m here at the Neighborhood Ball. I got to see this happen live:

Taken with my iPhone

It was so sweet. I loved the way Beyonce’s face crumpled up after she was done singing her song for the President and First Lady’s first dance. She just busted out crying!

I was wondering how she kept herself from breaking down the whole time (if you missed it click here). She is such a consummate professional!

I myself was bawling my eyes out. I had to excuse myself to go into the ladies room to fix my eye makeup. While I was in there, Shakira asked if she could borrow my lipgloss!!!!

I said yes of course because, well…she’s Shakira!!!! And she said she really liked my Missoni gown (which kind of surprised me because Grandmére picked it out and I kinda hated it but maybe not anymore…)

Anyway, Tina already texted me like five times wanting to know if I could hear what the Obamas were whispering to each other about when they were dancing (because I was so close to the stage).

And the truth is, I could! Grandmére totally drilled me in the art of lipreading. It is an essential skill for any princess who wants to avoid a coup (or score a Birkin bag).

Here’s what the First Lady and President were saying while they were dancing:

The First Lady to the President: Don’t you dare try to dip me.

The President to the First Lady: Come on. Just once.

The First Lady: No. I mean it, Barack. No way.

The President: Come on. It will be cool. I won’t drop you. I swear.

The First Lady: There is no freaking way you are dipping me on national television in this dress in front of Sting and Beyonce.

The President: You’re no fun.

The First Lady: Well…you can dip me when we get home later if you want.

The President: Awesome!

Taken with my iPhone

They’re so cute together! Just like me and my boyfriend. Who, by the way, won’t stop dipping me while we dance.

But it’s okay because the cameras are all pointed at the President and First Lady, so it’s not like anyone is going to notice us.

Which is good, since the truth is, I secretly kind of like being dipped.

Oops, I have to go now, they’re playing our song!

Love,

Mia