CHELSY Davy must be seething. Kate Middleton's gone and stolen her less than ladylike thunder.
The slightly brazen girlfriend of Prince Harry was my favourite royal in the running, but Kate is everything polite society requires in a royal.
In the very same way that Amy was the perfect choice for BOD for our very own Irish royal wedding last summer.
Kate's people don't have blue blood coursing through their veins (I think the technical term is 'commoner').
Apparently, the royals used to laugh at her for using the word 'toilet' instead of 'lavatory'. That's how they roll, those zany royals.
But Kate knows the protocol to follow, understands what she's getting into, and has all the poise, looks and manners to appeal to the public.
Just like aristocratic Amy.
The Huberman is switched on and regal enough not to do paid-for photoshoots and magazine spreads.
Her pulling power as part of the country's hottest couple is part of the reason the whole country got behind them last summer. And in the same way that tourism is set to increase in Britain because of the monarchical nuptials, every B and B was wedged in Leitrim last July.
Amy's every bit as savvy as Kate. Never snapped falling over outside a nightclub with panda eye make-up at three in the morning. Just like Kate, she lived with her hubby-to-be out of wedlock before heading up the aisle.
And crucially, she has breeding. Real pedigree, in the sense that she knows how to conduct herself without losing herself. She can meet expectations when 'what's expected' is reasonable.
Both do charity work and neither was too young getting engaged. The dress and who designs it will have bridezillas across Britain turning themselves inside out for a copy, just like with Amy's.
But what Amy has on Kate is an edge on 'cool'. Her dress sense is modern and young, not mothballed and 'suitable' and she looks like her hen night was a lot more fun than what Kate's might be like.
To demonstrate her independence, Amy has put her perfectly pedicured foot down about where she and BOD will spend their first Christmas together as man and wife.
At her parents' house.
I spent my first married Christmas with my parents too. He wasn't there, though. He was with his. We both thought it didn't matter a fig when there were no children involved. And truth be told, we were probably happy enough to bump into some ghosts of Christmas past without the ball and chain attached.
I'm assuming Kate, sorry Catherine from here on in, will be spending Christmas at the in-laws, watching her mother- in-law's speech.
Jaysus, having to endure that alone is grounds enough to call off the big day.
I wore my best suit reading the news the day Brian and Amy got hitched.
I will wear a hat in the front of the TV at home for Wills and Kate.
And at least it's knocked our economic woes off the top of the British news agenda.
Finally. Please, please let Harry be in charge of William's stag...
I AM now officially orbiting about the twittersphere with 10 full tweets under my belt and almost 120 followers.
I jumped, or rather double-clicked right in when I realised that the so-called 'silver surfers' (pensioners who surf the net) were scoffing at luddites like myself.
And so I'm part of the twitteratti, and not quite sure how to fill my 140 characters.
It annoys me when people upload pictures of their dinner on Facebook, so I don't want to tweet about where I'm breaking bread.
I'm told your tweet should be pertinent, provoking or controversial.
Think Simon Coveney's famous 'He sounded half-way between drunk and hungover and totally disinterested' tweet about Taoiseach Brian Cowen.
If I tweet something really pretentious, I might be lucky enough to end up on tweetingtohard.com; the website where self-important tweets get the recognition they deserve.
Like the tweet from John C Mayer, 'I love how some dudes hate me for dating their fantasy girl, as if they were going to if I hadn't'.
This week a study revealed that teenagers who text more than 120 times a day are more likely to smoke, drink, fight and have sexual relationships than those who send fewer messages. Hypertexters they are called.
What do hypertweeters do? Tweet round the clock, even while drunk?
For the same reason you should never drink and dial, don't dweet either.
Time to go all Rockin' Robin and tweet, tweet, tweet.
Keeping your musings to yourself is so last decade...