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Meg's Blog

Tom and Katie Tie The Knot

Meg Cabot and Michele Jaffe here, reporting live from–you guessed it:
15th century Odescalchi Castle in Italy, where Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes have just been wed! Although not legally.


Help! Someone! Anyone! Get me out of here!

People are of course wondering how Michele and I scored invites this to this exclusive shindig, while people like Oprah didn't get invited and had to stay home. Well, the truth is, Tom and Katie asked us to come record this beautiful moment in written format for them, didn't they, Michele?

Michele: Yes. Just like in JEWEL OF THE NILE when that Omar guy asked Kathleen Turner to write his country's history….

Meg: But really she just gets thrown in jail….wait, does this castle have a dungeon?

Michele: Indeed it does, Meg. In fact, it was used by the former occupant of the castle and its current ghost Isabella de Medici as a place to stash her lovers when she was done with them. She'd lead them there and them push them down into it and since she'd had it cozily decorated with swords pointing straight up, they didn't usually, um, linger too long. But we have to feel sort of sorry for her because Isabella was a child bride married to a crazy man.

Meg: Hey, wait a sec. That sounds kind of familiar. Child bride [read: KATIE HOLMES]. Crazy man [read: TOM CRUISE].

Michele: Spoooooooooky! Especially since Isabella's husband was so crazy that he killed her one night with his bare hands! At dinner! By coming up behind her and pretending to give her a kiss! I'm not saying that's what's in store for Tom and Katie, just, you know. KATIE WATCH YOUR BACK!

Meg: Totally. I think the huge blazing Roman torches and thousands of flickering rose-scented candles that lit the path as Katie walked through the chilly stone halls to become the third Mrs. Cruise added a nice touch, didn't you?

Michele: I hate scented candles. Unless they're shaped like food. Because then they're…no, I still hate them.

Meg: They give me migraines.

Michele: They make me want to cry.

Meg: No, I think that's Posh Beckham's perfume doing that to you. You should move over a little.

Michele: Thanks. Okay can we please address the fact that Katie made tenor Andrea Bocelli sing Ave Maria even though he was supposed to be a guest? That is so wrong. Hey, maybe we should sing too. “Hold On,” anyone? You know all the words, right, Meg? It would be so nice for them.

Meg: Shhh…Posh is looking at us!

Michele: Don't make direct eye contact or she could steal your soul!

Meg: Don't be silly! She can only cause your brain to bleed out your eyes and your mouth to beg for death! That's not the same thing at all. Anyway, speaking of Posh, can we talk about this little piece of trivia: “And wearing underwear estimated to have cost a mere $3000, Holmes enjoyed her moment in the spotlight.”

Michele: I'm seriously mad! I thought I knew how to spend money on lingerie but apparently I'm like the amateur hour. Three dot Thousand dot Dollars dot. My most expensive underwear outfit which includes a corset and garter belt and stockings that have tiny rhinestone bees on the heels and was sewn by like elves or something doesn't even cost half that. Do you think her underwear was made of rainbow sparkle smurf-ponies? That had to be flown to earth by spaceship? And served a steady diet of Tang? I mean, seriously, WHAT COSTS THAT MUCH?

Meg: Chinchillas.

Michele: Ooh good point. Also: Eew.

Meg: Maybe she had them hand designed like Kirstie Alley's bikini that she wore on Oprah. Speaking of Kirstie, she's like the Scientology uber-spokeswoman, and I haven't seen her anywhere in this castle…have you?

Michele: She could be here but because she's so thin now we wouldn't be able to see her. You know, she's like two dimensional. I bet she's over in that corner hanging out with Nicole Ritchie. I'm pretty sure I just saw the curtains move.

Meg: Those aren't curtains, they're J-Lo's sleeves. Speaking of J-Lo, what is she even doing here? Is she a friend of Tom or Katie's?

Michele: I think she's here because she heard about the dungeon Isabella de Medici used to push her lovers into if they weren't up to snuff and she's got some plans for Marc Ant–

Meg: Shhhhh, it's time for the vows:

The following are actual vows taken verbatim from the Scientology marriage ceremony:

Minister: And do you ken that by the customs of our race you pledge to him, and only him, your kiss and your caress?

Meg: [whispering] Ken???? Where?

Michele: [whispering] Customs of our race?

Katie: I do.

Minister: Well, then, know that life is stark and often somewhat grim and tiredness and fret and pain and sickness do beget a state of mind where spring romance is far away and dead and yet for valor and for strength you must abide, create still his health, his purpose and repose. Do you?

Meg: I thought L. Ron Hubbard wrote Science Fiction, not Victorian romance novels.

Michele: CUSTOMS OF OUR RACE?

Katie: I do.

Minister: And when she's older,Tom, do you then keep her still? Do you?

Tom: I do.

Michele: How cute! Tom will still love her when she's 28.

Minister: And do you, Katie, take his fortune at its prime and ebb and seek with him best fortune for us all? Do you?

Katie: I do.

Meg: Thank God. Because Tom's fortune is likely to ebb a lot.

Michele: Especially when he gets on his spaceship and flies away.

Minister: Katie, young men are free and may forget. Remind him then that you may have necessities and follies, too.

Meg: Did he just—?

Michele: Yes.

Meg: Like it meant—?

Michele: Yes.

Minister: Now, Tom, girls need clothes, and food and tender happiness and frills. A pan, a comb, perhaps a cat. All caprice, if you will. But still they need them. Do you then provide? Do you?

Meg: (speechless)

Michele: (speechless)

J-Lo: Oh no he di-in't!

Tom: I do.

Meg: Let us never speak of this again.

Michele: Agreed.

Meg: Do you want to go see what they have at the buffet?

Michele: If by the buffet you mean the bar, then yes. But only if we can go staunchly.

Meg: And by the customs of our race.

Michele: But we'd better do it quick because I think J-Lo and her Sleeves of Doom are heading our way.

Meg: DUCK!


Uh, seriously. Guys? Get me out of here? Anyone?

More later.

Much love,

Meg
(and Michele)

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