The Royal Wedding
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As the world breathes a collective sigh of relief, Charles and Camilla are enjoying their honeymoon in Scotland. They should be on their knees thanking the good God in Heaven that this wedding happened. I know I was sweating it out. Everything was going along swimmingly until Pope John Paul II passed away, God bless him. And I knew-I KNEW-this would throw a wrench into the works. And of course it did, when the Pope's funeral was scheduled for Charles and Camilla's wedding day. Of all the rotten luck. And if you think I was conflicted, imagine all the dignitaries and how they felt! Do they go to the funeral of a world leader, or the wedding of two adulterers? Hmmm. What to do? What to do? Well, Charles and Camilla fixed this by postponing the wedding until the next day, but I had the day off on Friday and was ready to plant myself in front of the TV and inhale every detail of the royal wedding-and then they had to reschedule it for Saturday. What nerve. I work on Saturdays. You can imagine my disappointment. In a panic, I sent an email out to my co-workers, asking if any of them could find it in their hearts to tape the wedding for me, but no one did. What a surprise. Anyway, my sister taped it, so you don't have to worry, and I was fortunate enough to catch a replay on the BBC the next morning.

  
 
Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall-I hope this means she'll no longer be referred to as "Mrs. Parker Bowles." I will admit that the woman never looked better and it seems she lost a bit of weight. I want to know who her makeup artist was. I thought the wedding frocks were lovely, but what was with the hats? Camilla's wedding hat (the one she wore to the civil ceremony) brought to mind a time my family and I were at the Miami Seaquarium when a pelican flew into a tree and got stuck in the branches - legs and wings akimbo and feathers everywhere - evoking peals of laughter from my kids. Camilla's wedding hat looked like a lamp shade that something flew into and got stuck, much like the pelican at the Seaquarium. And accessories are everything. As part of her wedding ensemble that she wore for an entire 15-minute registry ceremony, Camilla carried a leather clutch containing a matching coin purse and a leather- covered mirror. Now, the mirror I could understand - quick touch-ups and such - but why in the world would the woman need coins, much less a coin purse? To feed the meter where the vintage Rolls Royce Phantom V was parked? I think not.

Camilla looked a little nervous, which I suppose was understandable under the circumstances. After all, it was her first major appearance as a Royal. If you watched the wedding and you watched closely, then you may have noticed how, when Charles and Camilla were leaving the town hall, Charles turned to wave to the onlookers and then turned to Camilla. I figured he must have told her to wave too, and when she awkwardly lifted her hand to wave, she hit her hat - and then, like a deer caught in the headlights, she didn't know what to do.

If Camilla was nervous at the civil ceremony, she must have been a basket case at the blessing with the Queen sitting not four feet away. You could see the Queen through the grass - I mean feathers - on Camilla's head. Maybe it's my own misperception, but the Queen didn't seem like she was enjoying herself. I know it was a solemn ceremony, but she didn't crack a smile. I know I'd be intimidated. I wonder if the Queen was making some sort of silent statement by wearing the black gloves and black shoes and carrying the black handbag. There was something ominous about her choice of accessories, if you ask me. Like the proverbial doom cloud.

And Charles - you think he'd know what he was doing, having been through this before, but it seemed as though he had to look at Camilla before making a move; stand, kneel, whatever - he looked through rheumy eyes to her for guidance. And did you notice how Camilla gently and reassuringly patted Charles' hand when the rings were being blessed?

And the headpiece Camilla wore at the blessing? What was that? It was described as gold feathers tipped with crystals, but you could have fooled me. I thought it looked like Camilla ran through a wheat field and the wheat got stuck in her coiffure. I understand that hats are popular amongst the British aristocracy, but my word. The milliners must have made a fortune on this to-do by the looks of that mob.

We weren't privy to a peek at the party, but every description of the reception used the word "lavish." Now, I don't run in the same social circles as the Queen, who hosted the two-hour soirée, but the guests were served sandwiches and scones. What the heck is lavish about that, besides the fact that the finger foods were served in a castle? I don't think the Queen was going to shell out any more than she had to for this affair. Two hours. Finger food. That's it. She's done.

But the tackiest thing I ever saw (besides Zara Phillips' dress) was the royals and other honored guests pulling up to the Guildhall in minibuses. There must have been some extra Rolls Royces and Jags around the castles that could have been used to cart the gang across the street, no? But instead they hired minibuses. (The press used the term "coaches," but if it quacks like a duck...) I couldn't believe it when William and Harry and the rest of the crew alighted from the short bus like kids on a field trip. I know they wanted low-key, but really.

Now it's all over, and I feel a little let down, like a kid at Christmas. You wait and wait in eager anticipation and then it's over. And now Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, Princess of Wales, etc., etc., is the second highest-ranking female Royal (after the Queen herself) and even the Queen's daughter Anne, the Princess Royal, has to curtsy to her.

When donkeys fly.

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