Last night I, like every other red-blooded American female, watched the Dateline interview with William and Harry. (If you’re a girl in America and you didn’t watch it, please just check the next time you nick yourself while shaving your legs- I’m a bit worried about your red blood cell count.) What astoundingly mature and articulate young men they are. Okay, that totally makes me sound like a grandma. Hot! They’re also hot!

But seriously, I’m just amazed at how calm and down to earth they both seemed to be. So much more so than many people I meet in real life. The acceptance and understanding that the princes displayed for the way the world works is already at a level that most people will never reach in their lifetime. And I don’t know whether to really admire them for that, for the way they’ve grown up, or to be sad because they’ve had to grow up so quickly. It’s fascinating to put them side by side with other people who are considered extremely famous, like actors or popular musicians, and note the differences in the way they present themselves. There was no pride from the princes, no snobbish remarks or stuffy silences. And when asked what the best part about being a prince was, they both spoke genuinely of the gratitude they feel for being born so fortunate. It’s clear how much the influence of their mother, the beautiful and gentle Princess Diana, has guided them into becoming the men they are. You can see so much of her in them, and it was heartbreaking to hear them talk about losing her.

I am the same age as Prince William, and for as far back as I can remember I have dreamed about meeting him and falling in love and becoming his doting little princess. Nevermind the fact that he could literally have his pick from any woman in the entire world, in my fantasies he would always overlook the not-so-royal aspects of me because I always charmed him with my amazing personality. Watching that interview last night reminded me of all those times I went to bed as a little girl, my head on the pillow and my mind full of William-dreams. He’s just as handsome as ever, more manly and chiseled now which is just… rrrrawr. But Harry is just sex on legs. That man is delectable. And anytime he wants to overlook the fact that I’m a flat-chested single mother of two, he can come on over and see how unique and special I am. I’m not like all the other girls, Harry! I’m different and refreshing! And wear that pink shirt when you stop by. Tasty.

Wow, this post really degenerated quickly, didn’t it? Ha ha ha. I’m lonely.