Home Office

Okay, fine. It’s time to move on. I get it. We finally hire a lovely woman to “help me out” in the house and with the children. In a (curt) nod to cutting back she comes only in the afternoon when the children return from school. The first day she came she brought ambrosia for a snack, and I almost started to cry. Since that near miss, however, things have progressed smoothly and it looks like we might make it. Beloved is only a little bit irritated that he lost the, “why do we need a housekeeper” fight, and I feel things are back on an even keel. We were even able to keep the children’s Trust Accounts intact.

A rogue thought sneaks into my head that if having a housekeeper is such a stretch, then why have one? Well…so I can be friends with Bono of course. From what I can tell, most of the people I know are friends with Bono. How hard can it be? Being friends with Bono is a fail-safe justification for having a housekeeper! It means I am doing more interesting AND more important things with my life. I couldn’t, in good conscience, clean my own home if starving people in Africa are waiting for me to aid them!! And, of course, the ONLY reason I would want to be friends with Bono is to aid starving people in Africa. It is just the type of person I am! I do find it strangely easy to resist helping the under-privileged schools just down the hill from us that are in desperate need of food, books and clothes. Feeling mildly uncomfortable, I wonder why this is. Then I realize what they need is their own “Bono”. It would really whip up support! I think I will suggest it to them.

I call Sabrina to see if she is friends with Bono. “No sweetie, I don’t really know Bono.” I’m illogically pleased. “However,” she continues, “I am BEST friends with his darling wife Ali…would you like to meet her?” Of course she is. “Ali is just a doll ! Giving personified. Makes Bono look like a selfish p___k.” I should have known Sabrina could one-up Bono. “Yes” I meekly reply. “I would love to meet her.” Finally! I will be able to put my home-office to good use. I imagine Bono’s wife and me holed up in my home-office, hair tied back in a charmingly messy way, both of us wearing organic EDUN clothing (I wish it were a bit more form fitting…I will mention that to her) me suddenly 5 lbs. thinner as I always am in my fantasies, the two of us working furiously to get the guest list out for their our latest fund-raiser. “Don’t forget Christy Turlington and Ed Burns!” I chummily remind her. “No darlin’” (I’m assuming she has a lovely Irish accent). “How could I forget them after the weekend we all had together in Ibiza!” we laugh exhaustedly in a “those weekends are going to be the death of us” sort of way. I look around at my home-office and realize that in its present state the only evidence of any work being done are the various school papers and official-looking forms scattered about that I can’t quite be bothered to fill out and return in a timely manner.

Sabrina suddenly interrupts my reverie, “Oh! You’re in luck! Next Thursday one of my BEST friends is throwing a party for Ali and Bono! I will put you on the guest list. Now…let’s see…yes! here it is…$1500. You can make the check out to Product Red” She briskly informs me. “Oh! Uh… Super! Only, I thought I could be more of a “on-the-committee” type. You know, working in the trenches with the people that are doing the Saving of Africa not paying for the Saving of Africa.” I pause a moment as something occurs to me, “Of course, I should probably attend the party, you know, as a committee insider, sort of a Red Ambassadress, if you will.”

There is silence on the other end of the phone. “I think there are plenty of those already” Sabrina drily informs me. “You’re not doing this just so you can be friends with them are you?” she suddenly asks in an accusing tone. “Certainly not!” I say indignantly. “I mean” she continues, “there are some people who would want to meet them just to hang out with them.” “well not m…” I try to say but am cut off by Sabrina, on a roll now “You know…meet their friends, fly around with them on their private plane, visit them in the South of France, worm their way into their inner circle…” “I can’t think of anything further from the truth!” I exclaim, thinking how close to the truth she is. “I am doing this” I say in my haughtiest tone, “purely because of my passion for the Red campaign!” before she can ask me more about my passion for the Red campaign, which frankly has always confused me, I say I must go and smartly hang up the phone.

There I sit, disappointed, in my home office, office materials at the ready. Apparently Africa will not be saved by me. I wonder how Cambodia is doing. Isn’t that where Angelina Jolie got her start? I have always been passionate about Cambodia…

Comments

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Alright, Alright. I'll see what I can do to get you in.

Posted by: zack9900 | March 05, 2010 at 12:26 PM

I have an "in" with the Jonas Brothers?! I think, last I read in People, they were saving children with cancer in Texas. You could be the "Long Horn" Ambassadress :).

Posted by: Angelica | March 05, 2010 at 12:51 PM

Ooooh! Just toured your home via CasaSugar. What a delightful abode!

Here's a thought to tuck away and whip out the next time your man thinks you should head the housework: such image-based publicity will only speed the launch of your romance novel writing career, so it's imperative that you have help in order to keep the house in top shape while you're working.

Win-win.

Posted by: katie | March 05, 2010 at 01:03 PM

I thought I was getting the ultimate "in" with Bono when Mom (aka Nikki) took me to the opening of his EDUN line at Neiman's downtown. I thought I would receive my closeup photo-op in my newly purchased EDUN top and jeans (which made my butt look amazing might I add). Instead, I was triple checked on the guest list to ensure I wasn't an impostor. I was then overwhelmed by the "excuse me"s and firm nudges by the tall unjustly attractive female predators making their way to the front of the stage to hear Bono and his wife speak about there clothing line. My dreams of being "discovered" and cornered by photographers for event pictures-that would be splashed upon page 5 and 6 of the Style section-were smashed. I would love to tell you that I too have the "in" to make it so Bono will be your next dinner party attendee; But unfortunately, I looked DEEP inside my goody bag as I exited the department store and was thoroughly disappointed when I concluded that it entailed no business card or home number. I thought perhaps because of my flashy smile and extreme charm, a contact had been slipped in one of the folds at the bag's bottom (or secretly taped underneath). Nope. Positive. I dismantled the entire goody-bag. Guilty. HOWEVER, because your blog is the best launch since sliced bread, I am positive that he will be contacting you in the near future. If you are soon finding that juggling the kids and your successful career with only a part time nanny is preventing you from your scheduled tea time(s), I would be happy to offer PR services so that your dinner parties will continue to be the best of the best (minus impostors); for unlike Bono, I will quadruple check the guest list upon entry. Love your blogs and miss you dearly. Lots of love!
xoxo Lauren Meany Leisure