a girl, a house on the beach, and a one-way ticket...day five (or six?)

As of late, I had been thinking about what I want to do with my myself (if not forever, then at least for the summer). I had taken a half-hearted step toward figuring this out by browsing the classifieds, and up until Saturday, my best prospect in a town that subsists on the volunteerism of retired executives and their wives was scooping forty rotating flavors of gelati at The Ritz Carlton. But then I decided to attend an exhibit of Princess Diana's dresses at the Old Naples art museum and suddenly...I knew! I knew what I want to do with myself this summer!

I want to be a princess!

Duh.

Why hadn't I considered this before?

This would be the Best. Summer. Job. Ever.

Ahem...Dear Prince William:

Yesterday I attended a lovely exhibition of your lovely mother's lovely dresses, and I found nestled among her childhood spoons and tiaras a short list of the requirements for being the Princess of Wales. I read it, committed it to memory, and after sleeping on it, am certain that I am perfectly capable of carrying out the role. Now, I understand that you are in love with whatsherface and probably just about ready to propose, but hear me out on this before you do anything rash.

I hereby declare
1. To produce an heir, as well as a "spare," so the monarchy will continue. Um, admittedly the most difficult of all five requirements to fulfill as may be biologically impossible due to typical brevity of summer employment, but plenty of summer jobs, my dear William, have turned into long-term gigs.

2. To serve as a Goodwill Ambassador for Great Britain by participating in Royal Tours, hosting foreign dignitaries, and officially representing her husband or The Queen when so asked. Now it is true that I have hosted exactly one party in my life and have baked exactly one dessert for said occasion--but ask anyone in attendance, my flourless chocolate cake was divine.

3. To do everything possible to present Great Britain and its people in a positive manner. Working on my wave at this very moment. And! And! I believe anything ultimately lacking in my waving skills can be more than made up for by my abilities to twirl a baton, turn my feet inward almost 180 degrees, and proofread all of your royal correspondence.

4. To head numerous British charities and assist with their fundraising efforts. I am well-versed in the art of fundraising. Namely my own--ask any one of my 37 employers.

5. To encourage worldwide purchase of British goods. So obviously capable of this one...look what I've done for Starbucks.

And my dear William, should you be concerned about my American habit of drinking coffee, rest assured, most addictions I have found are transferable, and I'm sure that within a week or two, I'll be more than happy to sit down for proper tea.

Sincerely,

Your Lady in Waiting

*I realize I'm a bit late to the parade regarding the well-deserved worldwide reverence for Princess Diana. The day of her funeral I was an undergrad preoccupied with studying for an Eastern Arts and Religion test and in retrospect, my priorities were decidedly off. At the exhibit I learned that Princess Diana's amazing wardrobe was probably the least amazing thing about her. Of course, one must applaud her very public humanitarian efforts, but I found the details of her private self equally captivating. She was it seems, at the beginning of all things, a hopeless romantic--"I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world when I looked at Charles through my veil. I had tremendous hope in my heart." And, at the end of things, she was a consummate realist- "I kissed a prince. He turned into a frog." Interestingly, after her divorce, Princess Diana did what any tall, heartbroken woman ought to do: she threw away all of her flats and bought Jimmy Choos heels, as she it was no longer necessary for her to be concerned with towering over her husband at dinner parties or in photo ops. Very good advice indeed.

Tomorrow: Day Six (Seven? Eight?)