Sigh. I am a shameless royal watcher. Love them all. Love Britain because of them. Envy Britain because they have them. Love their crazy antics and watching them all figure out how to be celebrities and regular folks all at once and still make time for all that pomp and charity.
I was eight when Prince Charles married Lady Diana. Talk about eight-year-old girl crack--I have been hooked ever since. I didn't get to watch it live like the REST OF THE UNIVERSE because of my parents and their "we don't own a TV" shenanigans. Didn't mind most of the time, but seriously? The Royal Wedding? Come on.
I have stood by them through thick and thin. I had crushes on Charles and Andrew. I turned a blind eye to Charles's antics turned true true love with Camilla and rooted for Diana out there in the mine fields. Now I have crushes on William and Harry. It's like my DUTY as a bajillionth generation loyal subject whose ancestors rebelled against the tyranny of theirs. (Me? Totally not a rebel or a pioneer, reason #786 why I don't deserve to live in Seattle. I would totally have stayed in England and had a cuppa tea humming God Save the King, much less come to Plymouth Rock and such. If I had, never would have made it from there out west. Total pansy.) And they are all led by their stalwart and lovely matriarch, the lady who married for love and serves the kingdom tirelessly. Dude, and she had four kids while ruling said kingdom. Queen Elizabeth.
Love her. As if it couldn't get any better, this year she did her Christmas address on YouTube. She totally rocks. Love her more now.
The only thing I have ever collected, besides stickers--Royal Family memorabilia. I have postcards, collectors magazines, spoons. I may just schlep it all to Antiques Road Show one day. How cool would that be? As if I could ever part with it.