Corona Princess Diaries Day 8
Hello, everybody! I hope you’re all staying safe and healthy during this difficult time.
Entries from Princess Mia Thermopolis of Genovia’s diary* have fallen into my hands, and as the princess’s royal biographer, it’s my duty to share them with you!
*Please keep in mind that as with any diary, the princess is only recording her thoughts at the given moment, and has had no copy editing. Also, both the princess and I are aware that this is a serious and rapidly developing crisis.
I would like to thank health care workers, first responders, and everyone else out there working to keep us healthy, safe, and fed right now. If you’d like to help people who are in need during this crisis, I suggest supporting your local food bank. Find one here.
And if you like to read, please support your local indie bookstore (many will deliver books to your home during this crazy time) by ordering them here at BookStoreLink.
I hope you enjoy this eighth FREE installment of The Princess Diaries – Quarantine Edition.
– Royal Bedroom –
My ex-nemesis Lana Weinberger just called.
I refer to her as my “ex-nemesis” because we buried the hatchet my senior year in high school when Lana apologized for – and even explained – her atrocious behavior toward me. Obviously I forgave her, because that’s what princesses (and self-actualized people) do, and we’ve since become friends.
It helps that she’s made a concerted effort to not be as shallow as she used to be, especially now that she’s married to an actually nice guy (who just happens to be a Rockefeller and a multi-millionaire) with whom she has an adorable daughter that she named Purple Iris, in honor of Blue Ivy, the first born of Lana’s idol, Beyonce. Lana recently gave birth to a son, whom she of course named Sir Rockefeller.
Even though Lana is trying not to be so shallow, that doesn’t mean she always succeeds. That’s why she was calling, as a matter of fact:
Lana: “Mia, would you care to explain to me why the pilots of my private jet just told me that they can’t file a flight plan to Genovia? I thought we were all getting together for Easter, like we do every year. But they’re saying your country is closed, or something?”
Me: “Oh, yes, sorry, Lana. I meant to call you sooner. I have to cancel our Easter plans. We’re having a viral pandemic here. From what I understand, there’s one going on in the US, too.”
Lana: “Oh, that! Yes, I heard about that. But it only makes old people sick. We don’t need to worry about that.”
Me: “Uh, no, Lana, we actually do. It isn’t just old people who get it. It can strike anyone.”
Lana: “No, only if you live in like, Los Angeles or Brooklyn, or something. But not where we are.”
Me: “Lana, we have a case here in Genovia.”
Lana: “Oh, one case. Mia, you were always such a hypochondriac! You closed your whole entire country for ONE case?”
Me: “Yes, Lana, because I don’t want other people to get it. We’re trying to flatten the curve before things get worse.”
Lana: “But it’s not like we’re even going to do anything while we’re there except what we always do, which is go to the beach and drink wine while your nanny watches the kids play.”
Me: “Lana, I’ve closed all the beaches, and my nanny left. She has elderly parents who need her, so I sent her home to be with them.”
(While still getting full pay, I’d like to add! But I’m royal, so of course I can afford it.)
Lana: “What? Oh my God, Mia, way to overreact. Well, we can still take out the royal yacht, then, and your mother can watch our kids. Or your little sister. I don’t care. They’re both sweet.”
Me: “My mom and my little sister are generously helping out with the babies right now, thanks. But the royal yacht is in dry dock getting completely disinfected because the person who has the virus was seen dancing on it with my grandmother and her friends.”
Lana: “Ew, really? Well, we can hang at the pool, then. I don’t care, Mia! Just somewhere that’s warm where someone else can watch the kids while we celebrate Easter the proper way, with cocktails, like we always do.”
Me: “Lana, I can’t. You know I can’t. I have to be a good example for my country. I told my citizens that they have to observe social distancing and shelter at home, so I have to do the same thing. Did you know Michael has been in self-isolation in one of the guest rooms for eight days now? I haven’t seen my husband in eight days. Well, I mean, I’ve seen him, but I haven’t been able to touch him, or be touched by him.”
Lana: “God, no wonder you sound so tense. Anyway, Mia, that is just ridiculous! You’re taking this whole thing too far. We can most certainly still come for Easter if we all place our lounge chairs six feet apart. And the dining chairs in the Royal Banquet Hall, as well. God knows it’s big enough.”
Mia: “No, Lana, you can’t. Dr. Khan, the royal physician and the lead member of my Genovian Coronavirus Task Force, says it isn’t safe for people to be traveling at the moment, even on a private plane. And besides, it isn’t just the beaches that are closed here. All the bars and restaurants – clothing stores – high end jewelry and shoe stores – everything is shut down. I don’t think you’d enjoy a visit here. So you’re better off staying home and protecting yourself and your children.”
Lana (practically crying): “But I’ve been cooped up inside with these kids for the whole winter! Except for when we went to Disney. I just can’t stand it anymore! Did you know it was forty degrees here the other day? Who ever even heard of such a thing? It’s supposed to be spring!”
Me: “I’m sorry about the weather, Lana. I’m sure it’s awful there right now in your huge mansion in the Hamptons right on the beach.”
Lana: “The cold beach.”
Me: “The cold beach. But you still can’t come here. It’s for your own good.”
Lana (sniffling): “All right. I guess. But can we get together some other time, when this is all over, and have cocktails by the palace pool?”
Me: “Yes, Lana. We can. I promise you. When we get through this thing – and I swear to you, we’re going to get through this thing, because there are very smart scientists working around the clock on cures and vaccines for this virus – we will get together for cocktails by the palace pool.”
Lana (sounding more cheerful): “Okay! Well, I have to go re-do my makeup. It’s all smeary now from crying. Love you. Bye!”
Me: “Love you. Bye.”
A princess’s work is never done.
Come back tomorrow for another entry of THE CORONA PRINCESS DIARIES