My Back and Prince William

Biggest Celebrity Crush as a kid?

Prince William

Hands down, without a doubt, bigger than any boy band infatuation, was my love for Prince William. Admit it, the year is 1997 and you saw him walk behind his mother's casket and you fell in love a little bit too. He was adorable.

So over the weekend I managed to do something to my back. Which is kind of hilarious considering I did nothing more strenuous than popping in a DVD. But I can't explain the logic, I just know that anything that doesn't involve me lying flat, or curling up in the fetal position, HURTS.

Cooking? Hurts.
Bending over? Hurts.
Walking to the mailbox? OMG, thought I was going to die.

And it happens to be one of those laughs in the face of tylenol, motrin, aleve, kind of pains. Which could have something to do with me forgetting to take said over the counter drugs in any consistent manner, though I'm admitting fault at nothing. OH. Well.

So I've been resting with an ice pack under me for the better part of today. Except for the part where I thought baking a pineapple upside down cake in a heavy iron skillet was a good idea.

Oops.

I digress.

The point here is that as I was resting and perusing the interwebs from the luxury of my lap. After exhausting all blog options, which, HELLO people update so I can know all about your lives that are probably far more entertaining than mine, and then promptly playing 8 thousand sessions of line marbles I decided to see what ol' Prince William has been up to lately.



Oh, just...give me a minute.

I mean, it's not that bad. Except the whole buck tooth thing. And then the thinning hair thing. He's still royal. Second in line to be the frick fracking King of England. There's something to be said for that.

Except.



Oh God. No. No. No.

I don't need to see the attempt to dance. See the girl in the corner of the picture? She agrees with me.

See the girl dancing with him? That's Kate Middleton. She could be Queen someday. Thus, she puts up with the dancing.

Hey, I hold no judgement here.
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Back Pain: Destroying One Childhood Crush at a Time.

Just Thinking Out Loud

Off the wall names I like:

• clementine
• ainsley
• poppy
• piper
• harrison
• henry
• alfie
• ezra

Off the wall places I'd like to live:

• San Francisco
• a brownstone in Brooklyn
• new orleans french quarter
• the south of france
• a village in cambodia

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There really isn't much point to that stuff. You ever get to just thinking about things? Things being nothing and everything and really quite intriguing and silly at the same time. Things that are otherwise inconsequential but perhaps it's important to know you once thought them. So you pull up your blog, or dust off your journal and put them down for posterity's sake.

I read an article earlier from the UK (as in United Kingdom, not the school that rapes my wallet every fall) about how old names are making a comeback in the chic department. Of course people will still stick with trendy, but over there, where I've decided they are infinitely cooler than America, really old names are on the upturn. Like little 3 year old boys walking around being called Edward, Ted, and George. Or perfectly British young girls named Mabel and Nellie. So I came up with my own list. And so you have it.

The living list will never happen. It just won't. I see myself visiting these places. But living there is like a mythical second life that exists only in my head. A what if kind of thought. Perhaps the oddest is a village in Cambodia, but I have this strange pull towards that country. Kind of like my obsession with Greece, though I've never been able to explain it. The other night my Dad posed one of those silly dinner table kind of questions: if you visited somewhere next week, no limits on distance or money, where would it be? I said Cambodia. He said, "Whatever. Watch out for landmines."

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I've been kind of out of it for the past few days. I have struggled with this strange cold/sinus pressure thing all summer long and this week it has managed to rear its ugly head again. No matter what I take, nothing seems to stop the sloshing around of my brain.

Not to mention my longest known friend is pregnant. Due the same month as my birthday. In a less than perfect situation. It's just been much for me to take in and process. Frankly, I've still not made much progress in doing so. I'm sure I'll come around though.

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I've declared tonight a eat bad food and watch shitty movies night. I haven't eaten out in so long that I'm thinking what my brain is missing is some processed crap. Trans Fat: It's What's For Dinner.

Anglophilia

Princess Diana died August 31, 1997 when I was 11 years old. From the moment I watched it scroll across the bottom of my television screen, to the weekend I watched her funeral early in the morning from the floor of my bedroom I became a bit of an Anglophile. I read every single book about the royal family I could get my hands on, became fascinated with my English last name and loved anything British, which also enhanced my Spice Girls obsession.

I don't go to extremes like I did in my tween years, however I do still pick up any royal family book I come across. Even the ones I know will be bad. And I'll just admit right now, I have a slight obsession with Princes William and Harry.

Which is why I've been anxious all day, because tonight on ABC, 20/20 is doing a rare 2 hour profile on the British Royal Family. They've been documenting The Queen, Prince Charles, Camilla, William and Harry for the past year and it will supposedly offer a personal glimpse into their family and world.

Totally freaking out here.

Also totally a dork.

But for any other anglophiles like myself you've now been properly warned to set your tivos and such and watch the special tonight.

So, can we marvel at how beautiful Harry is? Even while in combat in Afghanistan? And how brilliant it was to stage a breakup with girlfriend Chelsy Davy so as to avoid rumors of his absence around her. Love it.

I've always thought a man in uniform is hot. But a man in uniform with a royal title? Positively smoking.

Then can we discuss how awesome it is that Victoria Beckham shops at Target? Triple love that one.