It’s 10am, and my liver is weeping. I’m late for work and dressed like a panhandler as, despite my excruciating exhaustion, I could not go to sleep before 2:30 in the morning. After six days of straight partying, I wonder how I was ever able to pull this behavior off in college. More importantly, how was I able to pull it off between last Friday and last night? Two words: Barack Obama.
Now, this is not to say that Barack Obama has any real bearing on my quasi-reckless behavior. But it was Inauguration 2009, and my friends and I had a lot to celebrate. Here’s a quick rundown of my escapades.
SATURDAY, JANUARY 17
Amen for zero traffic. Though everyone complained about how it would take eleventy seven years to get to the nation’s capital, the ride to DC was absolutely congestion-free. Upon reuniting with so many friends that it felt like All-Star Weekend, we decided to ring in the first night with a party. This, ironically, can be considered the night I “took it easy.”
SUNDAY, JANUARY 18
Two hours of sleep. How did I get into this situation? Woke up early to grab my press passes before the traffic started, but fortunately I’m not quite feeling the hurt. Concert starts at 2:30, it’s about 1:15, and I’m on my way to the area. Traffic is gonna suck.
2:00: Traffic sucked. have to detour to the Metro. I am definitely going to be late. The cops cut off the Foggy Bottom Metro station due to crazy overcrowding as people flock to the concert. However, I’ve got a press pass and a video camera, and the train dude tells me to get out at the Smithsonian Museum. “It’s the same distance to the concert as Foggy Bottom.” Fine. Whatever.
2:45: Train dude, if you’re reading this, you are a goddamn liar. The stage is not one, not two, but about ELEVEN BLOCKS and TWO AVENUES from the Smithsonian. At first I didn’t think this was a big deal, until I realized that DC blocks are pretty much the length of NYC avenues, hence, I was glad I wore flat shoes or I’d totally have to go back to that metro stop and throw rocks at homeboy’s window. Sheesh.
3:15: It’s too bad I didn’t bring roller skates in preparation for the 4,672 miles I just walked. At least I could HEAR the concert during my trek, but it’s so cold there isn’t too much I can videotape. This blows.
3something: Oh snap, thank GOD I didn’t miss Stevie Wonder. He is my main squeeze. Even Barack stood up to dance. Who wouldn’t dance for Stevie Wonder?
5something: The concert is letting out, and no one is trying to talk to me on camera about it. Perhaps it’s because they’ve been up early, or perhaps it’s because, despite my credentials (e.g. a little green tag that says “PRESS”), I just look like some random chick with a video camera, trying to get people to talk to me. The day my business cards are finally printed, I might buy my boss a present. I’m over this; it’s time to party.
MONDAY, JANUARY 19
Thank god I don’t have any activities planned for today. I am hung the f over. I have dinner with some friends at 4, but what I really want to do is lie down and die. Have decided to drink beers until someone figures out a plan.
8:00: Dinner’s over, and though we all really need to be going to bed to wake up for the swearing in tomorrow, we’re obviously too ignorant to do this, and have decided to go party. Tonight is another “Inauguration Celebration,” also known as everyone’s excuse to have what would normally be a regular party, but charge arms, legs, first-borns, and gonads for entry. Fortunately for me, my friends are throwing said parties, so I won’t have to pay anything. Being a writer is great… until you have to spend more than like $10 on anything. I’d definitely have had to take the L on that one.
Have put aside clothing to wear the next morning, in case I have to get up and rush to National Mall. This is a very likely situation.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 20
5:00am: Everyone is sleeping but me and and my friend, who just took another friend to the Metro station to get to the National Mall super early. I decided it was entirely TOO early for me, so I sat around in the house instead.
6:30am: Said driving friend returns, and everyone else is sleeping but me. We decide to wait up in order to not oversleep. Figuring we had to do SOMETHING while we stayed awake, we crack open a bottle of champagne. You know. Because Barack Obama is our new president, and he’s really, totally, actually, forreallife getting sworn in tomorrow, making what was already surreal totally concrete. Clearly, we have to toast to this. Except we don’t feel like going to get champagne glasses, so we drink out of the bottle instead.
7:15:
FRIEND: Let’s take a nap. I’m tired.
ME: No way man; we’re going to sleep through the swearing
FRIEND: Just, like, 20 minutes. Then we’ll just get up and go.
ME: Dammit. I’ll lie down, but I am NOT going to sleep.
9:15: We wake up to my friend’s dad yelling, “What are you guys doing?! Get dressed! It’s time to go!” As it turns out, 20 minutes turned into 2 hours, and there are definitely seven stupid people sleeping passed out on various furniture pieces and mattresses in a basement. Awesome. We run upstairs, layer up, and head out into the crazy weather.
10:00: My friend just called to tell me that they closed off the entrances, and that we may as well head back to the house or a bar to watch the swearing in. The four of us who actually went refuse to believe this is so, so we walk what seems like the entire District of Columbia looking for a place to see the action.
11:30: In totally awesome news, we find a place to watch the swearing in, and we made it JUST in time. There are people posted up on lampposts and in trees to watch this business. And, let me tell you, Barack Obama is one fine piece of President.
Though it is about -1000 degrees outside, I managed to tape the entire speech, though I couldn’t actually SEE it from where I was standing. Hearing room only, unless you climbed objects. Which I couldn’t do with an office video camera. And though I am never video blogging again, due to the fact that I can’t feel my hand, I think Obama’s oath-taking and subsequent speech made all of us realize, at the same exact time, how very real it all was. It was a sobering experience, to say the least. I’m not a super-emotional person, though, so I wasn’t sure if I was tearing over the overwhelming historical moment… or the fact that I was pretty sure my insides were going to freeze up and shatter by the time all was said and done. It is actually SO cold, Aretha Franklin has her boobs covered. And I thought she’d have to go to Antarctica to do some shit like that.
7:30pm: Dressed for the ball; limo’s downstairs. Secretly wish my black president’s inaugural balls would involve an electric slide somewhere, but I don’t think America’s ready for all that yet.
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21
Midnight: Apparently the Obamas are running ahead of schedule. Good, because I am a few Dewars’ in and getting sleepy in my ball gown. James Taylor is playing. I know everyone else’s ball had, like, Mary J Blige and whathaveyou, but after five days of partying, James is really mellowing me out in the most happy way. I would totally hire him to sit in my apartment and play the guitar all day long. I consider this while waiting for the big guns to come out.
1am: Damn, Jill Biden is hot.
1:15: Obama’s doing his speech and first dance, which is really like, his tenth first dance, but whatever. I can’t beliEVE I didn’t bring a camera, but what a great way to end an amazing weekend.
