To get up at 5 a.m. and watch, or to not get up at 5 a.m. and watch: that is the question.

William Shakespeare really said it best, didn’t he? Uh, the confusion and torment in my life right now because of frickin’ Kate Middleton! But really, what is a gal with mild interest in the royal wedding and a UGE gigantic hair-crush on the future Queen of England to do?! Sure, I like a good romance and all, and parades are fun, but I also really (really) like sleeping. Would it have killed Kate and Wills to have tied the knot a few hours later and helped some American sistas out? Not that I have any idea what I’m talking about, but FOR REAL who gets married at 11am? Old people? I hate the morning—dark circles, puffy faces, morning head fog. I mean, thanks, but no thanks. I’m getting married at 8 o’clock at night, after I wake up from a nap. People in England will just have to stay up late if they want to watch.

I really haven’t been planning on getting up to watch. At all. I figured buying a thick stack of magazines commemorating the event—and a pint of strawberry Haagan-Daz—would do the trick, preferably after getting a Kate-like classy pink pedicure and then settling onto a sun-warmed couch to flip pages and daydream. But last night my boyfriend was eating a hot pastrami sub and watching SportsCenter and very casually was like, “you’re getting up for the royal wedding, right?” and I was like, “no…I think PEOPLE magazine in a few days will suffice” and he seemed sincerely disappointed at my lack of enthusiasm. It was like he was under the impression that I would not only be arising for the damn thing, but I’d be doing it in full-out, pretend-I’m-actually-there costume (clearly a fitted pastel summer suit and a fabulous hat), while eating crumpets and slamming back Earl Grey teas and probably weeping throughout. (Also, my boyfriend totally has a crush on Prince William.)  AND THEN JUST NOW MikeTomlin emailed me asking if we were getting up to watch it tomorrow morning! I mean, if a Steelers fan is getting up when it’s still dark out to witness this explosion of love and beauty and “but is she too thin?” (it is still dark outside at 5 a.m., right?) I may have to give in and join her…

Uh, royal wedding peer-pressure: doesn’t come around too often, but when it does, it’s the worst!


PS; I’m totally going to stand out in the rain when I’m fifty and Wills and Kate are finally visiting Boston and I will swat away toddlers to hand Kate some flowers and tell her I watched her get married on my laptop in my pjs. And yes, I will probably cry.


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