...than watching Princess Diana's two boys being interviewed by Matt Lauer?
I was a baby without a name for a few days...I was supposed to be called James, but when I was born a female, James was x-ed (obviously) and other names were thrown about...my grandfather suggested Joan. Others were Jamie Lynn, Lindsay, and Annie Hall. (I would have freaking LOVED to have been Annie Hall!)
Luckily for me, Princess Diana and Prince Charles had gotten married the past year, and her face was splashed all over the magazines and newspapers. Neither one of my parents had ever known a Diana personally, and, just like that, I was named after both a princess AND a goddess. (Neither my sister or I have middle names, though, which always made me feel slightly like a freak whenever my friends would learn that and react to it. "YOU DON'T HAVE A MIDDLE NAME??? BUT YOU HAVE TO HAVE A MIDDLE NAME!" When I was confirmed, I chose the name Grace, which means I now carry the names of not one, but TWO, beloved blonde princesses who died tragically young in automobile accidents.)
Princess Diana was killed the summer before my sophomore year of college. I will always remember my sophomore year as the year when my own father was diagnosed with cancer. (He would pass away the next year.) The night of her accident, my older sister had left for her very first year of college, and my mom was quite upset. They went to their friends' house that night, and I watched Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman. (I never claimed that I had been a cool 15-year-old.)
The show was interupted to announce Diana's accident, and the next morning, I learned she was gone. I watched coverage nonstop, even when I went to babysit. One image that will always stick in my mind is her coffin with the card sitting on top of it, "Mummy" written across. Prince Charles held onto little Harry's hand as they looked at all the flowers that had accumulated at Kensington...William shook hands and said, "Thank you...so much."
When my dad died, I entered the same exclusive club that William and Harry were already in...that 4% Club, I like to call it. (Four percent of people lose a parent before they reach 20 years old.) You do feel an automatic kinship with somebody that has been in a similar situation, no matter who they are or what the exact circumstances were.
I watched Matt Lauer talk to William and Harry tonight, and I must say, I love them! What sweet, fine boys they are. (I say this like I am their great-aunt.) I was disappointed to hear of William and Kate's break-up, because who doesn't want Prince William to be happy? (Might I add, that girl wears some fabulous hats. I guess if you're dating the future King of England you can get away with wearing fancy hats like that. If you are just a nice girl who works in a bookstore or an office and you were hats like that, you just look weird.)
And, of course, I have always had the faraway daydream that I will meet Prince William one day, and he will shake my hand and go, "Ah, yes. That is an easy name for me to remember." (Can't you just hear it? Oh, it will happen some day. It WILL.)
I wish these two lovely young men all the best in the world.
And I'd like to add, in case William googles his name in blog search and is reading this right now, I am single, but I'm also Catholic, so I hope that won't be too much of a problem.