looking pretty good so far.

Homework

Algebra: You would think my own stepfather would be nice and not give me homework on MY BIRTHDAY, but no

English: The Iceman Cometh

Biology: Ice-worm

Health and Safety: Check with Lilly

Gifted and Talented: As if

French: Check with Tina

World Civ.: God knows

Thursday, May 1, still MY BIRTHDAY, the ladies room at les Hautes Manger

OK, this is so my best birthday ever.

I am serious. I mean, even my mom and dad are getting along with each other - or trying to, anyway. It is so sweet. I am so proud of them. You can totally tell my mom's maternity tights are driving her crazy, but she isn't complaining about them a bit, and Dad totally hasn't said anything about the anarchy symbols she's wearing as earrings. And Mr. Gianini put Grandmere right off her lecture about his goatee (Grandmere cannot abide facial hair on a man) by telling her that she looks younger and younger every time he sees her. Which you could tell pleased Grandmere no end, since she was smiling all through the appetizers (she can move her lips again now that the inflammation from her chemical peel has finally died down).

I was a little worried that Mr. G's observation would cause my mom to go off on the beauty industry and how they are ageist and are constantly trying to propagate the myth that you can't be attractive unless you have the dewy skin of someone my age (which doesn't even make sense since most people my age have zits unless they can afford a fancy dermatologist like the one Grandmere sends me to, who gives me all these prescription unguents so that I can avoid unprincesslike breakouts), but she totally refrained in my honour.

And when Michael showed up late on account of having been in detention, Grandmere didn't say anything mean about it,

which was such a relief, because Michael looked kind of flushed, as if he'd run the whole way from his apartment after he'd gone home to change. I guess even Grandmere could tell he'd really tried to be on time.

And even someone who is totally immune to normal human emotion like Grandmere would have to admit that my boyfriend was the handsomest guy in the whole restaurant. Michael's dark hair was sort of flopping over one eye, and he looked SO

cute in his non-school-uniform jacket and tie, which is part of the mandatory dress code at Les Hautes Manger (I warned

him ahead of time).

Anyway, Michael's showing up was kind of the signal I guess for everyone to start handing me the presents they'd got me.

And what presents! I am telling you, I cleaned up. Being fifteen RULES!

DAD

OK, so Dad got me a very fancy and expensive-feeling pen - to use, he said, to further my writing career (I am using it to

write this very journal entry). Of course I would have rather had a season pass to Six Flags Great Adventure theme park for the summer (and permission to stay in this country to use it) but the pen is very nice, all purple and gold, and has HRH

Princess Amelia Renaldo engraved on it.

MOM and MR G

A mobile phone!!!!!!!!!!! Yes!!!!!!!!! Of my very own!!!!!!!!!

Sadly the mobile phone was accompanied by a lecture from Mom and Mr G about how they'd only bought it for me so that they can reach me when my mom goes into labour, since she wants me to be in the room (this is so not going to happen due

to my excessive dislike of seeing anything spurt out of anything else, but you don't argue with a woman who has to pee twenty-four hours a day) while my baby brother or sister is born, and how I'm not to use the phone during school and how

it is a domestic-use-only calling policy, nothing transatlantic, so when I am in Genovia don't think I can call Michael on it.

But I didn't pay any attention, because YAY! I actually got something on my list!!!!!

GRANDMERE

OK, this is very weird because Grandmere actually gave me something else from my list. Only it wasn't bungee cords, a cat brush or new overalls. It was a letter declaring me the official sponsor of a real live African orphan named Johanna!!!!!!! Grandmere said, 'I can't help you end world hunger, but I suppose I can help you send one little girl to bed every night with

a good dinner.'

I was so surprised, I nearly blurted out, 'But, Grandmere! You hate poor people!' because it's true, she totally does. Whenever she sees those runaway teen punk rockers who sit outside Lincoln Center in their leather jackets and Doc Martens, with those signs that say Homeless and Hungry, she always snaps at them, 'If you'd stop spending all your money on tattoos and naval rings, you'd be able to afford a nice sublet in NoLita!

But I guess Johanna is a different story, seeing as how she doesn't have parents back in Westchester who are sick with worry about her.

I don't know what is going on with Grandmere. I fully expected her to give me a mink stole or something equally revolting for my birthday. But getting me something I actually wanted . . . helping me to sponsor a starving orphan . . . that is almost thoughtful of her. I must say, I am still in a bit of shock over the whole thing.

I think my mom and dad feel the same way. My dad ordered up a Martini after he saw what Grandmere had given me, and

my mom just sat there in total silence for like the first time since she got pregnant. I am not kidding, either.

Then Lars gave me his gift, even though it is not correct Genovian protocol to receive gifts from one's bodyguard (because

look what happened to Princess Stephanie of Monaco: her bodyguard gave her a birthday present, and she MARRIED him. Which would have been all right if they'd had anything in common, but Stephanie's bodyguard isn't the least bit interested in eyebrow threading, and Stephanie clearly knows nothing about ju-jitsu, so the whole thing was off to a rocky start to begin with).