City’s main jail complex? Except of course the aforementioned secret room filled with cake.
You’ll find out tomorrow.
Michael, you know I hate surprises, right?
I think you’ll like this one.
I can already guarantee I won’t unless it involves cake and armor.
You really need to do something about that negativity. May I recommend a nice yoga/meditation retreat?
That isn’t funny. Just reading the word meditate made my eyelid start twitching more.
Good night! Sweet dreams . . .
He added an emoji he’d made himself of a gorilla with hearts for eyes. Yes, in his spare time from work, my boyfriend designs emojis.
I think I’m going to have to watch about three more episodes of NCIS before I’ll be able to calm down.
I wish I were a special agent for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service Major Case Response Team and not the princess of a tiny principality on the Mediterranean. Then I could just save the country from terrorist threats over and over, and never have to hear about oranges (or Reiki, or meditation retreats) again.
Three things for which I am grateful:
• That I’ve got a TV with streaming Netflix.
• Michael.
• Tylenol PM. Seriously, I’m so sleepy right now, I think I’m . . .
CHAPTER 10
8:37 a.m., Friday, May 1
Third-Floor Apartment
Consulate General of Genovia
New York City
Woke up to 1,479 happy birthday posts, texts, e-mails, and voice mails, several of which are from people I actually know.
This is what happens when you become a public figure. Total strangers wish you happiness on your birthday, which is very, very nice.
But birthday wishes from people who know you (and still care about you, despite being aware of your character flaws) are even nicer.
No sign yet of Michael’s “birthday surprise.”
I’m going to try to be a less suspicious and cynical person now that I’m a year older and wiser, but I can’t say I’m a fan of surprises. “Guess what, Mia? You’re the Princess of Genovia.” That’s just one example of a surprise I’ve received that turned out not to be so great.
Michael’s a pretty good present giver, though, so I trust his is going to be better.
And it’s a new year, so I’m going to spend it taking Paolo’s advice: figuring out how to make these diamond shoes work for me.
The people I’ve heard from so far (that I actually know, though not necessarily intimately) include:
1. My mom and half brother, Rocky (singing “Happy Birthday” together).
This is the first year I’ve heard them without Mr. Gianini accompanying on his drum set. That made me a little sad. But when I called them back (I only spoke to Mom, because she’d already dropped Rocky off at school), she sounded upbeat. It’s good that she’s doing so well, because I sometimes wonder if she’s just masking her grief by throwing herself into her work like the bereaved single moms I always see on made-for-TV movies, where the ghost of the deceased husband is watching over her and the kids until they cute-meet a new guy.
This time Mom mentioned she’d seen a piece on Dad’s arrest on Access Hollywood and wanted to know if I think he’s on drugs, and if so, did I think we should get together to do an intervention?
I said no to both.
This actually makes me think Mom’s getting back to her normal sassy self (and that Mr. Gianini has moved on to heaven or his next life or whatever, because if he were a ghost he would definitely never steer her in Dad’s direction).
2. The president (of the United States. I’m pretty sure it was prerecorded, though).
3. Ex–college suite mates, Shawna and Pamela, who now share an apartment over their shop in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, that sells artisanal mayonnaise.
4. The Windsors (despite what some people say about them, they’re all actually very sweet).
5. Tina Hakim Baba. (She was trying so hard to sound chipper. I know Michael said I should listen to Boris’s side of the story, but would it be so wrong if instead, the next time I happen to be in the same room as Boris, I tell Lars that I thought I saw a weapon on him? A body cavity search by the Royal Genovian Guard could teach him a valuable lesson.)
6. My father, hoping I have a very happy twenty-fifth birthday. Which is great, except that I turned twenty-six today. But since it’s my birthday, I’m choosing to be magnanimous. (He’s never gotten my age right. Once he gave me a birthday card with my name spelled wrong. But at least that meant he’d