Is that Kate William, Mama?

Emilia sat on my lap this evening while we watched clip after clip of the Royal Wedding. 
'Is that Kate William?', she asked.
'Her name is Kate.  Isn't she beautiful?  And William is the name of the man she is marrying.'
A few moments later...
'Whose dress do you like best, mama?  Kate's or Pippa's?'
We both agreed that Kate's dress was the best, but that Pippa looked beautiful, too.  And what's more, is that it is much more fun to say Pippa, no?  'Is that Pippa, mama?  Is that Pippa there, too, mama?'

Highlights and clips were the way that I ended up watching the entire wedding.  I tried to stay up, even cooked the most British things I could think of to celebrate, but nothing doing.  Less than an hour into the local coverage, and I was off to bed (berating myself all the while).  But what was one to do?  Particularly when one happens to live in the worst time zone in the world to watch the exchanging of vows.  Drat -- but not to be helped.  And I realized, way too late, that the smartest thing to do would have been to set the alarm for 3am, go to bed like a normal person, get up and watch the vows, and then go back to bed. 

But the real kicker is that since we have rebuked this whole idea of cable on the telly, we had no repeated coverage the next morning.  There was no re-broadcasting of anything resembling the Royal Wedding whatsoever.  And the frustration continues to grow, as I now realize that we will be missing the entire beatification of JP2 -- that would be Pope John Paul II, née Karol Wojtyla, who died less than one week after I was received into the church.  Quite sad, one could say.  Or just simply, 'Rats!', which seems to be equally effective.