My little sister and I stalk famous people. She’s better at it than me. She once drafted an elegant note to the Juiceman, complimenting him on gravity-defying eyebrows that rested on his face, light and soft like two angel feathers. Continue reading
If anyone pukes on Their Royal Heighnesses during the 2011 Royal Tour, it’s going to be me. Not purposely of course.
They’re coming to Quebec City in two days and I have a media pass to cover the tour. It just hit me today that I’m going to be mere steps away from the future King of England and his new bride. I’m now envisioning getting trampled in a media stampede or being so nervous that I throw up on the Duchess.
Weeks ago, I convinced myself that they’re just people. They get food stuck in their teeth, they get gas, they have to clip their toenails just like everyone else. And today, I realized I was knee-deep in denial. They probably pay someone to file their toenails and it’s likely someone’s JOB to tell Kate if she has a huge clump of spinach in her teeth. Every move they make is scrutinized and mull-over by Monarchy worshippers around the world. Continue reading