On July 29 I set my alarm so I could get up bright and early to watch a wedding that was happening later in the day in a place I'd never been. If I remember correctly, I was the only one in my house that got up, but a lot of my girlfriends did as well. I can't put my finger on why it was so important to see someone I'd never met get married, but it was so I just left it at that. I made a scrapbook with the photos from the wedding and of the renderings of the dress. I thought it was the coolest thing as a 9 year old who still thought there was a possibility of a prince sweeping me off my feet. Ohhh, that made me laugh just thinking of that, for many reasons! Funny the things you believe when you're a child. I was raised by a single mother so how I believed that for even a second is beyond me.
The dresses couldn't have been more different and neither was the day. Diana's wedding day wasn't really about her. She was a child marrying blindly into a business. Kate Middleton planned everything down to her dress which was more Grace Kelly that anything else. She looked beautiful but not in the way that most people expected which is nice. She certainly stood out on her day even in front of her sister who looked amazing and an Abby filled with some of the worst hats I've ever seen.
I mean the only way that hat was a success was if she was trying to draw attention away from her big choppers and HUGE eyeballs. It looked even worse from the back.
So, I had a good trip down memory lane that I enjoyed both with the wedding and visiting friends and places like my old high school in my hometown. I love seeing anyone succeed at something and I think getting what you want in the end after losing your mother at such a young age is a wonderful thing. I feel like we're all their mothers. I don't want to know his or Harry's personal business, I just like knowing that they're doing well and I think they are.
My husband doesn't understand my love of Princess Diana and her sons and why would he? He's 5 years too young and he has a penis. A boy can never understand a 9 year old girl longing to be a princess. Today my two year old while wearing a tutu, wings and carrying a wand turned to me and said (for the first time) "Momma, I'm a princess!" I was thrown off by it because this wedding aside, I'm not the princess type, unless princess's wear a lot of black and have terrible potty mouths. I never thought my daughter would be the type to love all things fluffy and hopefully she won't think someone is coming to save her because I don't want anyone leaving my house allowing someone to do everything for them or waiting for someone to save them from anything but maybe for now, that's OK. Maybe it's OK for her to wish for a Prince to give her a glass slipper. Maybe it's OK to long for a land of make believe where all dreams come true. She'll be hit with the realities of life soon enough. For now it's OK to dream of the fairy tale. Sometimes they come true, don't they?