Pippa Middleton, Thank You For Restoring My Will to Live

Eleven months have passed since my last post, which is more than enough time for a funny, attractive, intelligent, and sometimes-sexy girl to meet and successfully seduce a potential husband. Yet I’m certain that no one envisions a brand new three-carat ring twinkling on my left hand as I type this post. So it’s no surprise, then, that I’m still enduring the long day’s journey into night of my singledom. But I’ve been dealing with it fairly decently—until last week.


In other words, I only succumbed to sleeping with one ex-boyfriend (and for that I blame Bethenny, because I had no idea how easy it would be to finish an entire bottle of Skinnygirl Margaritas in one sitting). I did not renew my It’s Just Lunch membership, even in the face of their ceaseless phone calls. Even better, I successfully achieved removal from the It’s Just Lunch marketing contact list (by no means a small feat, since I ultimately had to threaten filing an FTC complaint before they complied). Overall, I was navigating the dating scene pretty well, controlling my neurotic tendencies and minimizing ego and self-esteem blows. That is, until the aforementioned last week, when the absolute worst happened.

My little sister got engaged.

My gorgeous, fun, innately stylish, always sexy, non-socially-awkward (and did I mention younger?) sister who lives in Los Angeles and works in fashion. Until her engagement, the only thing that kept me from drowning myself in Lake Michigan when comparing our lives was the fact that I make a lot more money than her. That was the sole justification staving off suicide. But now that she’s betrothed to a well-heeled (namely, Ferragamo loafers), BMW 7 Series–driving, Cartier Roadster–wearing financier, her net worth just skyrocketed. Worse yet, notwithstanding the description above, her fiance isn’t a douchebag in the least. In fact, I absolutely adore the guy. So when she turned up on Easter wearing an engagement ring (enormous brilliant-cut center stone, Tacori platinum micro-pave setting), and asked me to be her maid of honor, I spent the rest of the day fighting the urge to remove the Honeybaked ham to make room for my head in the oven.

Since then, I’ve been a disaster. I downloaded the entire six-part BBC production of Pride and Prejudice on iTunes, and I’ve been working my way through it (along with a case of Rosso di Montalcino) each night. I’ve been waking up soaked in sweat from nightmares involving loaded questions, whispers and sidelong glances at countless upcoming events (wedding showers, the bachelorette party, the rehearsal dinner and the wedding) where my older sister spinsterhood will be glaringly obvious.

It was in this state of mind that I decided to rise early on April 29th and watch the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Yes, I was one of those people. I own the fact that I care (sometimes very acutely) about stupid, inconsequential things like Real Housewives and celebrity gossip and royal weddings.

But I was different, in one significant way, from the millions of other plugged-in-to-all-the-wrong-things women who tuned in to watch.

I wasn’t watching for Kate. I was watching for Pippa.

What’s more, I was seeking solace from Pippa. Because (in my mind) she was being forced to dutifully play maid of honor to her thinner, prettier, posher sister at the most fabulous wedding of all time. She would be reduced (I thought) to little more than a handmaid, arranging the hem of the most talked-about wedding dress in three decades. And at the end of the wedding, her already superior sister would be transformed from commoner (I’m borrowing from English ridiculousness by using that term; in no way do I believe there’s anything actually “common” about a high society It girl from a family with a net worth of 30 million pounds) into the freaking Duchess of Cambridge, wife of an almost-king.  Whereas Pippa would emerge from Westminster Abbey still title-less, shivering in the long, cold shadow of the surreal glory her sister had just celebrated.

In other words, I fancied myself as having a lot in common with Pippa Middleton, and I figured that watching her on the big day would make me feel better. If only because I imagined that she would feel comparatively worse as maid of honor at her sister’s wedding than I would feel as maid of honor at my sister’s wedding. I tuned in seeking nothing more than refuge.

But Pippa Middleton, you saucy minx, you gave me a new lease on life.

Imagine how dumbfounded I was when I saw the tanned, toned and utterly hot Pippa Middleton emerge from the limousine, beaming and exuding confidence. Imagine my delight when her perfect butt and cascading chestnut curls stole the spotlight during Kate’s endlessly long walk down the aisle, not to mention when the hotter and more fun “of Wales” brother, Prince Harry, appeared totally bewitched by her. Ultimately, imagine my inspiration when her dazzling performance as maid of honor resulted in Facebook fan pages devoted to her body and widespread critical acclaim.

So thank you, Pippa Middleton, for being the ECT jolt that broke me out of my mourning and sorrow. I now have a muse to model myself after in the coming months of maid of honor responsibilities. I’ve already dusted off my L.A. Tan and Equinox membership cards. And it looks like I’ll be watching Parts 3-6 of Pride and Prejudice on the treadmill. Oh, and did I mention that my sister’s fiance has two extremely hot, successful brothers, both of whom will be serving as best men in the wedding?

Law Firm 10 may lack the dazzling, magnetic charisma of a girl from the hottest sorority in school, but she (arguably) makes up for that with her wit, humor, and low-maintenance-ness. Read more from Law Firm 10.

15 Comments

  1. Quadoz

    May 3, 2011 at 9:27 am

    I never understood this about LF10. Why does she always compare her station in life to other people? Yes, tons of people do this. Usually those people don’t have much going for them! She’s a successful attorney -supposedly- and lives in Chicago. Time to nut up and enjoy life. A chic that doesn’t realize how well she’s doing in life is just a damn shame.

    Now the low self-esteem I’m fine with that! Those women are the reason I get laid!

    • Strenuous Objector

      May 3, 2011 at 9:40 am

      I’d agree, reading entries like this make me wonder how “10″ she is or how successful she is. She’s obviously unhappy with her life, just deal with that like other bitter lawyers.

  2. Strenuous Objector

    May 3, 2011 at 9:33 am

    Let me get this straight, after crawling out of your Ben and Jerry pity party you find solace in the fact that Kate’s sister is hot at the wedding and all you can focus on now is that your sister’s fiance has hot brothers? You want to be one of those girl? The ones that try and marry their sister’s fiance’s brother? Just say that out loud for a moment. If you have to introduce your “dream guy” with 2 posessive nouns, you’ve got a problem, especially when that “dream guy” would be related to your future brother-in-law. If you weren’t so self involved maybe you’d find a guy, but instead of being focused on your future, you’re really focused on what you don’t have and obsess about it and that instant psycho, clingy, future cat lady smell is repellant to any guy you desire.

  3. Ellen

    May 3, 2011 at 11:21 am

    I have alot in common with LF10. I too have been faced with disapointment with my choices of men.

    The man of my dreams (I thought) was a CPA, and I thought had real earning power in the future, so I focused on him. But he turned to the bottle, drinking at least 2 beers every day, and more when he goes out with his friends.

    I did not want to be Married to an alcaholic so I had to break it off with him. Since then, I have alot of men trying to go to bed with me, but none interested in Marrying me.

    So I will not go out with a man unless he is interested in Marrying me.

    • Strenuous Objector

      May 3, 2011 at 11:36 am

      You should never look for a man based on if he wants to marry you, you should look for a potential mate based off of other qualities they have such as dedication to a career, social skills, hobbies, etc. I mean seriously, there’s no facebook status for “wants to marry you” but you can easily tell the difference between if he’s only interested in your jelly rolls or in you as a person (though from your other comments I might be giving you too much credit in the observation department).

      • Craig

        May 3, 2011 at 11:42 am

        Ellen seems to have many of the same problems as Guano and Alma.

        • Strenuous Objector

          May 3, 2011 at 11:48 am

          Being obsessed with marriage and living in fairy tale worlds?

          • Craig

            May 3, 2011 at 11:59 am

            ha, yea, basically

    • FuncDegen

      May 3, 2011 at 7:39 pm

      Turned to the bottle? 2 beers a night !? The horror. That’s not even close to alcoholism hunny, that’s normalcy in America.

      • BL1Y

        May 4, 2011 at 7:17 am

        A 750 ml bottle of Skinny Girl Margarita contains 185.25 ml of alcohol. By comparison, a dry martini (assuming 4 oz portion) contains 118.28 ml of alcohol. So, yeah, drinking that whole bottle by yourself isn’t exactly the big leagues, not even for a girl.

      • MagicCircleJerk

        May 9, 2011 at 6:45 pm

        Seriously. The type of shrew that would begrudge a man a couple of beers a night is destined to A) die cold and alone, feasted upon by her cats; or B) import some mail-order husband/houseboy from Malaysia

  4. Guano Dubango

    May 4, 2011 at 5:49 am

    I do not even let any alcohol touch my lips. In my country, real men prefer to pleasure their women rather than to imbibe. That is why I can be such a good match for the right fertile woman. I am not clear that Ellen can be such a woman for me, but assuming that she is now available, perhaps she can provide some indication of interest? Please to advise, Ellen?

    • Ellen

      May 5, 2011 at 5:24 am

      No offence, but I do not want to MARRY anyone who is not from the USA and who is not of my background. You seem to be sincere, so I think you will find a woman who fits your requirement, but I also have requirements that I thought Alan met. The only thing I had not considered was his love for the bottle. Originaly, he would just always order a beer when we went out to dinner, no big deal I thought. Then he always brought over a 6 pack of Heyneken beer to go in my fridge so that he could grab one while he watched TV. But once he started staying over, he stacked more beer in my refrigerator and said he was getting it on sale. Then he had to drink 2 beers a day at least. That was to much, especially since he became VERY gassy and I realised this every time he stayed over.

      I do not want this for my life. I have to share the bathroom and I do not want to do so with an alcoholc.

  5. Handsome Avocat

    May 25, 2011 at 5:22 pm

    The Guano-Alma bit has to stop. It’s not funny. Never has, never will.
    A tout a l’heure, mes amis.

  6. Hannah Palindrome

    June 4, 2011 at 6:52 pm

    YOU.HAVE.ISSUES.

    Pippa Middleton is NOT hot!
    Her dress was lovely, but her ass/face is meh.
    I don’t know why people put her on a pedestal. Fug face

    I was the maid of honor at my sister’s wedding, and I was very HAPPY for her.
    I don’t understand why you’re so miserable.
    I don’t understand when siblings are jealous of eachother.
    You should be happy for your sister, and you should be happy that she’s not an overweight/ugly woman with no personality.

    You need a therapist!

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