Dear diary,
Things have descended into complete chaos. I’m currently writing this diary entry with an entire makeup team practicing next weekend’s efforts on my face, while my hair gets tugged in twelve different directions and my feet, my beautiful feet are having unspeakable things done to them with tools that wouldn’t look out of place in a lobotomy lab.
Still, I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world. This is what I want. I’m getting married to Prince Harry in just over a week. I’m going to look my best even if it kills me. We’re doing a detox at the moment, Harry isn’t enjoying it but I feel unstoppable. It’s a new health plan where you exclusively eat avocado pits and drink raisin juice for six days, then on the seventh day you’re allowed to gorge yourself on a half bottle of sparkling water. Madonna swears by it!
Harry hates the detox, I read it in his diary. Before you start having a go at me, dear diary, I think it’s okay for me to read his innermost thoughts because we’re getting married so we’re supposed to share everything. Anyway, his diary is pretty boring. He mostly just talks about losing his hair and trying to score free tickets for The Vamps. But his opinion on the detox was harsh. He said it was stupid and that he’d been sneaking off to McDonalds drive thru when I go to bed. I’m so annoyed. I thought a couples’ detox would be good for our bodies, minds and also hearts. A couple that starves together stays together, as the saying goes.
It’s not even the sneaking around that I’m mad about, it’s the fact that Harry was going for a takeout without even thinking to ask if I wanted anything. OF COURSE I WANT SIX CHICKEN NUGGETS, I AM ONLY HUMAN. It’s common knowledge that a guy can’t go to McDonalds without getting something for his girl. That’s relationship rule number one. Number two is that I get to pick what movie we see in the cinema every damn time. Harry knows that. It’s like he’s trying to cause a problem.
I hope he doesn’t have cold feet. That’s a sign of poor circulation, which could lead to further health problems down the line. As much as I like the NHS, I refuse to take advantage of this country’s healthcare system. People already accuse us of being involved in benefit fraud, whatever that is, so I don’t want to feed the headlines that paint us as villains. No, the most rational decision to take here is for us to never seek any medical intervention at any stage in our lives. I will give birth in the back garden if necessary. I’m not a scrounger. I pay my dues. I gave up my job for this taxpayer-funded life. I am an everyday hero.
We need to talk about some of the royal wedding merchandise that’s been circulating. It’s insane. Literally insane. I just saw mine and pooky bear Harry’s faces on a toilet seat cover. A fricken toilet seat cover! People want to do their nasty business and then hide it with our faces! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – Britain is a crazy place. They’re selling tea towels (I literally just learned what they are lol), plates, cups, saucers, cakes, Marmite, everything you can think of, they’ve put our faces on it. Even condoms! The worst part is that we’re not seeing any of these profits, it’s all going straight to the vendors and it’s not right. I want in. I want a decent cut or I’ll put a halt to this whole thing.
I’m slowly getting to meet all of Harry’s family. Last night we had dinner with Prince Andrew, who I didn’t know much about because he hasn’t had any storylines in The Crown yet. But heck, I learned something huge. He used to be married to Fergie! Now I’m not above admitting that for roughly thirty minutes I thought he was referring to The Black Eyed Peas’ Fergie, so it was disappointing to learn that it was just some lady also named Fergie. Or so I thought. Turns out she created Budgie The Little Helicopter. That mischievous little blue aircraft taught me so much – the importance of air safety, how to be kind to everyone and most importantly, that helicopters like to wear hats that are somehow wind resistant. Pity they’re divorced, she seems so cool. I’m definitely sending her an invite to the wedding. She might do a dramatic reading from Budgie at the reception!
Gosh, eight days. In eight days I’m going to be Prince Harry’s wife. Am I prepared? No. But have I been doing my best to get ready in time? Again, no. I’ve been watching The Princess Diaries to brush up on what my life is going to be like, but I keep getting distracted by Dame Julie Andrews’ acting prowess. She steals the show. Anne Hathaway could NEVER. Did you know Julie was conceived after her mother had an affair with a family friend? So crazy. I bet that kind of thing never happens around here…
We’ve decided to put some rules in place for the wedding. It sounds strict, but it’s just to make sure that everything stays entirely within our control at all times. We’re banning all cellphones and cameras to prevent any social media leaks on the day, and we also don’t want anyone named Kate attending. I came up with that rule long before I remembered that William’s wife’s name is Kate, so this one is really unfortunate. Obviously I love her dearly and can’t wait to be family, but we can’t go making allowances at this late stage. Rules are rules. I’m sure she understands. She’s probably really busy, what with having a baby THREE WEEKS before my big day and all that.
Another rule we’ve devised is that we don’t want any gifts. Well, not all gifts, just anything under the value of £10,000 simply isn’t good enough. I don’t want some shitty toaster that I’ll have to bring to the charity shop a week after the wedding. Either give us something lavish like a jacuzzi with LED light fixtures, or don’t give us anything at all. You can just donate to charity rather than giving us unwanted clutter. I swear, if anyone tries to give us a fucking salt and pepper set I’m going to hit the roof. Do. Not. Waste. My. Time. With. That. Kind. Of. Bullshit. Sorry, I’m getting annoyed just thinking about it.
As a final insistence, we’ve decide to ban swords from the wedding because we simply cannot have the threat of pirate attendees looming over our heads on our special day. That happened at my last wedding and it was a huge source of stress. Pirates love to party, but they can turn into quite a rowdy bunch once they start drinking. This isn’t going to be that kind of wedding, I’m sensing. As much as I love my pirate fans (apparently I’m huge in their community – they all love Suits!), I will have to turn them away from the wedding. This wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I think it’s for the best.
Anyway, I’ve got to run, I’m due another glass of raisin juice so I need to get milking!
Talk soon,
Meg x
Check out the previous diary here:
Meghan’s Wedding Diary – 15 days to go!
