I know it’s been ages since I’ve blogged but that’s because there’s just been so much going on, I haven’t had a minute to myself. It all started when this came in the mail:

Obviously this isn’t the original. Rice Krispies and milk got spilled all over the original when my suitemate Gina screamed so loudly when she saw me pulling it out of the thick envelope it came in and my other suitemate Carla happened to be walking by with her breakfast.

Carnage.

Because of course the envelope was addressed to Her Royal Highness Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo and guest.

And every single person I know wants to be my guest at Prince William and Kate’s wedding . . . . with the exception of course of the one person I’d actually like to bring with me.

Not that Michael says he doesn’t want to go, or is boycotting the occasion on ethical grounds or anything annoying like that (as his sister might have done in the past).

He just gets uncomfortable when he has to dress up in a tux (although in this case, the dress code is "morning suit"), and stand around in some cathedral where there are cameras pointing at him, especially in high def.

(Although Michael is getting more used to these kinds of things since he has been going out with me for so long, and has also had to give so many press conferences himself in his capacity as CEO of his own robotic surgical arm company, Pavlov Industries, which he named after his dog.)

Still, I can sort of understand why, whenever the subject of Prince William and Kate’s royal wedding comes up, the corner of his right eye starts twitching.

Because Grandmére and my dad got their own invitations and will also be attending (I did not ask who they are bringing as their guests because I have enough to worry about), and not only will we all have to sit together at the wedding ceremony itself, but we’ll also be forced to attend the queen’s reception together later that afternoon for drinks and canepés (and cake, of course), but then we’re invited to the "knee’s up" evening reception hosted by Prince Charles, at which there will be dancing, possibly of the disco variety.

That is a lot of togetherness with Grandmére (not to mention whatever nightmare of an escort she decides to bring with her. Please dear God do not let it be Charlie Sheen).

I’m not sure even I will be able to take it. So how can I ask poor Michael to do it?

Especially since Grandmére has taken to phoning me nine million times a day to point out all the things I need to be sure NOT to do when I get married, things that Prince William and Kate are doing, such as inviting their ex-boyfriends and girlfriends to the ceremony (which I think is gracious of them, although no way am I inviting either Josh Richter OR JP to my wedding. I wish both of them would stop poking me on Facebook. I am never going to like them back so they just need to get over it), or ask guests to make donations to my favorite charities in lieu of gifts.

"How do they expect to have enough matching salad plates for the royal family of Saudi Arabia when they come to visit?" Grandmére keeps wanting to know.

She can’t understand anything that’s modern or reasonable, such as the fact that Prince William and Kate say they don’t intend to have maids or a cook in the house where they will be living together after they are husband and wife.

Grandmére says they might as well just do all their own washing on a rock by the side of the river and grind their own wheat while they’re at it.

I tried to explain to Grandmére that these are not the same as not having a maid or cook but she doesn’t believe me.

I was over at Michael’s during one of these calls from her, and after I’d hung up he looked at me all twitchy-eyed and said with a sigh, "I suppose eloping would be out of the question."

I said, "Oh, no, it’s much too late for that. Matt Lauer and everyone from The Today Show have already booked their flights to London. Think how angry they’d be."

He gave me sort of a funny look when I said this, but I thought it was just because he usually watches Morning Joe and all of those boring financial news shows in the morning, so he isn’t that familiar with Matt and The Today Show gang.

But then later when I told all this to Tina Hakim Baba, she said, "Oh my God, Mia! Michael wasn’t talking about William and Kate. He was talking about you guys!"

Then Tina got into a pre-engagement delusional lather, going on about how "that was practically a wedding proposal!" and wanting me to get out my iPad so we could go on www.tiffany.com to pick out potential engagement rings, and did I want her to drop Michael a subtle hint about my ring size and diamond shape preference?

(Answer: NO!)

And now Tina wants to be the guest I bring with me to the royal wedding so she can take notes because she wants to be my wedding planner (in between studying for her pre-med finals at NYU, because of course she hasn’t given up her dream of being a doctor, although now she wants to be a gynecologist because she’s worried there are too many women in the world who don’t receive proper gynecological and obstetric care).

But I can’t plan my wedding right now because:

a) I am still in college. I can’t get married until I have a degree and have gone out into the world and worked, like Kate Middleton!

(Although technically being a princess is a job. Also, I am a published writer. But I mean like a job where I have to go to an office and have a mean boss yell at me. Besides my grandmother, who had no choice in hiring me, and would clearly not have, given a choice between me and someone else. She would have chosen Emma Watson).

b) Tina seems to be forgetting that Michael didn’t propose. What he actually said was, "I suppose eloping would be out of the question."

I know Michael and I are getting married. That’s obvious. We’ve talked about our future often (even what would be good names for kids. Such as Indiana and Merlin).

But when we do get engaged, a proper proposal would be nice, not something groaned out because of how much he doesn’t want to go to Prince William and Kate’s wedding. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

So there will be no planning of anything until all of the above things happen (college graduation, proper job, proper romantic proposal).

Meanwhile, there are lots of other people besides Tina who’ve dropped not-so-subtle hints that they wouldn’t mind being asked to be my guest at Prince William and Kate’s wedding, including but not limited to:

1) My mom (she thinks Kate’s a "lovely girl" with such "nice manners and hair." Like I don’t know it! Paolo is after me to grow out my hair. But it still won’t grow past the yield sign stage. Possibly I need more vitamin D?)

2) My little brother, Rocky (who said if I took him he would give me his entire toy dump truck collection, but I see through his ruse. He only wants to go because Grandmeré is going, and he’s in love with her. Why??? WHY DOES HE LIKE HER SO MUCH????)

3) My hair stylist, Paolo. Obviously. He wants to ambush Kate and ask her what vitamins she takes to make her hair so nice.

4) All of my suitemates here at college, who are of course after Harry, except for Gina, who is after Princess Beatrice, even though I TOLD her I don’t think Beatrice is same-sex oriented.

4) Lana Weinberger. She thinks she has a chance at getting Prince Harry to fall madly in love with her and marry her, and that then somehow Queen Elizabeth, Prince Charles, and Prince William will all miraculously expire at once (probably of poison put in their food by Lana), and then she’ll become queen (Lana has a lot in common with Wallis Simpson, now that I think about it. Except that Lana is not a Nazi sympathizer). Lana says: "When I’m queen, I’ll outrank you, Mia, because queens are higher than princesses. Ha! Put that in your candy hole!"

5) And even Lilly, who said, "Purely from a sociological standpoint, I think it would be beneficial for me to study the behavior of all these royals. You don’t count, Mia, because you weren’t raised in that kind of environment. I’d like to have the opportunity to observe true blue bloods on their own turf. Besides, I understand the Dalai Lama is going to be there. I have a few questions I’d like to ask him about ascending to the spiritual plane."

She’s such a liar. The real reason Lilly wants to go is that Kanye West is going to be there! She wants to ask him to follow her back on Twitter.

Oh well. I still have a week or so to figure it out.

Maybe I’ll just take Lars. He said he wants to go, too. All the bodyguards from all the royal families are going to be there, so it will be like a reunion for him. They like to have impromptu games of touch football in the parking lots at events like this, using a ball stuffed with live ammo to make it more exciting.

Plus, he really wants David Beckham’s autograph.

I promise to keep you posted.

Love,

Mia