Princess in Wonderland

First of I would like to sincerely apologise for my tardiness. Last week passed me by as quickly as a gust of wind. I barely had time to write two little pieces to fill my page in our Finch’s Quarterly Christmas issue when – puff – I was sitting in a plane on my way to Berlin for an eventful few days, to say the least. (In case you do not already receive the print version of FQR, subscribe now just in time to receive our Christmas issue to be released shortly.)

Now, where was I? Oh yes, Berlin. It all kicked off with an important and very productive meeting. Without giving too much away it looks like soon I will be sharing my thoughts with a few more. It all began by publishing a book. Yes, a book, and my first book to be precise. Now how has telling you this slipped my mind? For one I have been a little distracted and busy with all the excitement that has followed the publication. Further I didn’t really see the point in mentioning the book as I wrote and published it in German. Nevertheless this is my diary and without mentioning the book my appearance on one of Germany’s biggest TV game shows might have sounded somewhat random. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.

What on earth is my book about you might wonder: mouldy walls, fashion week madness, more random bits of jibber and jabber? Not quite, I am not that bold. My first book is a very personal exploration into faith. In fact, into the faith I was brought up with. Call it a string of short anecdotes, in many ways just like the Princess Diaries, only this time centred around spirituality. By openly exploring these traditions the journey led me back to my roots and helped me rediscover the beauty and sensuality, an essential yet disappearing part, of Catholicism. Anyway enough of that, you see what I mean.

Who would have thought that the German media would show such an interest in my thoughts and contemplations? I am still amazed by the interest my humble little red book has stirred. So here I was giving interviews and being invited to Wetten Dass? Funnily enough its presenter, Thomas Gottschalk, today (well at least in Germany) a superstar, started out his career as a DJ at my parents wedding. Another tie that binds good old blondie locks and me together is the fact that 25 years ago my mother went on that very same show. Wow, talk about having a lasting career.

The whole experience was pretty surreal. For the most part I was chilling backstage with my own little entourage and the entourage of Roland Emmerich. He was there accompanied by his leading man John Cusack to promote their new film 2012. They arrived with a big troop of friends cause that’s the only way to roll I have learnt. We chatted and smoked cigarettes and before I knew it, it was my time to get on that couch. I was so busy chatting I hadn’t watched a second of the actual show up to that point. Just before my grande entrée, stage-fright finally hit me. Waiting backstage with all these men and women with headphones, walkie talkies and notepads walking around making signs and signals to each other did freak me out somewhat. It is a live show after all. To make matters worse I had to walk through a brightly lit corridor in order to get on stage. After a lengthy announcement and accompanied by scary music underlining the effect of ones entrée I landed in an even brighter hall filled with applauding people. I chose to ignore the fact that aside from the audience, millions of eyeballs were now on me scrutinizing every thing I did, and every strand of my big blonde mane. It felt like I had fallen through the rabbit hole and landed in an upside down land. A land where everything one says is purely for the pleasure of the silent observer. A land where one sits on a sofa between John Cusack and Lady Gaga. Considering the rather unusual constellation of events I did feel quite relaxed at that point. Miss Gaga struck me as quite charming by the way. All she seemed concerned with were her fans and the fact that she didn’t understand a word that was going on around her. I assured her that although technically I did speak German, I was a little confused myself. Dividing egg yolk from egg white with chop sticks, spray-painting girls behinds and recognising them via the shape their imprints left on a piece of paper etc etc, I said it was the upside down land. If you don’t really know what I’m talking about, don’t worry, nor do I.

The 2012 gang invited us to their premier in Berlin the next day. Fabulous, I thought and decided to stay another night purely in the name of research of course. Truth be told the apocalyptic disaster story does not disappoint. It is even more nerve racking than one might imagine. My friend and I were clutching each others hands throughout the film. The after-party in an unused underground station was fun and relaxed and somehow we managed to find ourselves at the cosy hotel bar way in to the early hours of the next morning.

The next day my mere presence made me part of a truly historic event, the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. We wandered right up to the Brandenburger Tor, a landmark not least because during the German separation it sat between the two borders, effectively a no-go area for both sides. A spell appeared to have been cast on Berlin’s windy streets. Maybe it was the cold or the aftermath of too many late nights but under a grey and strangely gloomy yet romantic sky I felt the people’s excitement rub off on me. More and more began piling into the square and for no real reason a few drops of warm pride drizzled through my veins. Suddenly all the experiences of the past few days got right sized again. On my way to the airport I stopped by my uncle’s house to see my little cousins, one of them being my god son. The excitement in their faces seemed to dwarf the excitement I had felt all weekend. But when they showed me their splattered kitchen table my excitement dwarfed theirs. They had hand-painted countless biscuits even trying to write my name in a psychedelic array of colours, shapes and forms onto them. Although the cookies did look somewhat toxic it was by far the most flattering event of the week.

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 12th, 2009 at 2:12 pm and is filed under Princess Diaries. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.