It Could've Been Me

If you haven't yet heard, Prince William finally proposed to Kate Middleton. Many females of my generation are depressed today, and I am no exception. You see, I was supposed to marry Prince William. It was always the plan.

I love England. I love rainy days. I love castles and sparkly things. I'm only a year older. I can ride horses. I already own a tiara. It was totally meant to be.

Granted, Kate looks better in big hats and likely speaks with an English accent so she'll surely blend in better, but woman - mark my words - he was MINE.

I know what you're saying - I have a perfectly good American husband. I know, I know. But he hates fancy parties and never takes me to the country for a round of tea and a visitation with the Queen. He just can't compare, you know?



Picture on right....Prince William, I loved you even then. I remember tearing photos out of my mom's, er, MUM'S People Magazine and sticking them on my binder. Picture on left....Kate, he gave you Princess Diana's engagement ring. Talk about a bum deal. You got a ring that ended up representing infidelity, torture by paparazzi, and bad hairstyles. Good luck with THAT.

The boy is mine.

Until then, this is my life.



Not exactly breakfast with the future King of England in Buckingham Palace (which I've BEEN TO, fyi, have YOU Kate?? Eh, probably, huh...), but it's not a bad life. I suppose there is a way out of this royal depression after all.