I truly hope, for all of those reading this, that you are not yet sick of the Royal Wedding. Additional warning: This column may or may not contain elements of cheese. Proceed with caution.
Why? Because as a Notre Dame student studying abroad in London, I participated in all the wedding madness this past Friday and I loved every minute of it.
For those of you who may have read my contribution to The Observer's International Desk blog, you will have noted that my day began before 5:00 a.m. and involved sleeping next to a homeless man in St. James Park before standing along the processional route all day to witness the entire Bridal party make its way to and from Westminster Abbey.
As much as it pains me to say it, I ended the day totally and madly in love with Kate and Will. This is saying a lot coming from someone who, if in Kate's shoes, I would have run 50 miles in the opposite direction before ever agreeing to join the dysfunctional and highly scrutinized family that is now her in-laws.
Why is it then that I, like so many other rational, democracy-loving individuals, got swept up into the Royal Wedding fever?
Answer: At the end of the day, many of us are still suckers for, and please excuse the overused expression, a modern-day fairytale.
Now you can criticize that statement all you want but the fact is a sensible, and maybe even a bit too-good-looking for her now-husband, woman willingly jumped into the media circus that has both annoyed and enthralled us to no end these past few months. I tend to subscribe to the belief that agreeing to have your wedding, one of your most personal and joyful days, broadcast worldwide to nearly two billion people who will analyze every detail, even the appearance of your sister's derriere in her maid-of-honor dress, to be a sign of enduring devotion.
And at the end of the day, after all the hoopla over the dress, the difficulty with the ring and the briefest of balcony kisses, it was still a wedding. A "royal" wedding, yes, but still a wedding where two people, who do seem genuinely in love, officially committed themselves to each other — without a pre-nup I might add.
With that being said, I no longer feel guilty for being a Royal lover. When I saw Kate drive past on her way to the Abbey, I felt a special affiliation to this young woman. Not because she was about to achieve every little girl's dream of being a princess, but because I was so swept up in the moment and wanted nothing more than her future happiness with her real-life prince.
And at a little after 11 a.m. on April 29, 2011, those all around me felt it too as the cheers of a million strong crowd went up in response to two words: "I will."
Molly Madden is a junior studying in London. She can be reached at mmadden3@nd.edu
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
