Internal Memo: Chelsea Clinton

  • The wedding will take place in Rhinebeck, New York, which is part of Dutchess county, a dutchess being just what I would be if America had a proper class system. Also, Rhinebeck is the birthplace of Rufus Wainwright, which reminds me that I need to email him to get him to come and sing that Leonard Cohen song Dad likes so much. Oh no, Mom is the one who likes “Hallelujah.” The one Dad likes is “Chelsea Hotel.” He told me that’s really how I got my name (not Joni Mitchell’s “Chelsea Mornings,” another of Mom’s “convenient fictions”). He really likes the beds there. Maybe Rufus can sing that, too.
  • I feel happy for Bristol Palin. I wish she could share this day with me. Her fiancé is slightly better-looking than mine, but mine is richer.
  • It’s difficult when you invite couples to a wedding and then the couples break up. Too bad about Al and Tipper, and after four decades. But seriously, even my parents are still together. Now at least it will be O.K. to keep Prince on the playlist at the reception without having to listen to Tipper whine.
  • Sad to hear that Michelle and Barack couldn’t make it. I worry sometimes about Sasha and Malia. You have to go through so much as a kid in the White House. The press calling you fat, or saying your hair is too curly, all your classmates blaming their lack of health care on your mom. At least I never had to deal with such a big budget deficit.
  • Sometimes I worry that the romance is gone between me and Marc, that it hasn’t been there in years. Both of us work at hedge funds, each pulling long hours trying to wash away our parents’ past iniquities through the honest accumulation of massive fortunes. It gets hard to be tender. It gets hard to be human. It gets hard to care about anything but money and status and maintaining appearances. What was I worried about again?
  • Who knows what the future holds? Maybe I can someday be appointed to the Senate without having to run as a non-incumbent. I mean, it’s not like I’m Caroline Kennedy.
Internal Memo: Chelsea Clinton