Part One: How I Got to the Official Inaugural Ball

The wind kicked up after the swearing-in ceremony, and I was glad to walk back to my hotel. It was cold! My hotel had plenty of hot coffee and tea in the lobby, and many of us huddled around sipping tea, warming our hands, and smiling! That was thrilling! If there were any inaugurations that I would have loved to attend in my life, I'm glad it was for B.O.!

Next step: Get tickets to the Inaugural Ball!!!

Uh, folks, if you don't know or your common sense hasn't told you, as mine generally doesn't tell me until too late, getting Inaugural Ball tickets is a wee bit difficult, even if you plan ahead! You can either work overtime for your party for four years or you can donate $250,000 to the campaign. Let's see, a quarter of a million dollars or work sixty hours a week for four years earning not much more than minimum wage. Well, it's obviously not the low income I'm worried about, cuz I've been doing that forever in order to do my own creative writing--even knowing that poetry, rhyming or not!, does not sell--but doing politics 24-7 isn't my kind of thing.

(Aside: Admittedly, I became an election junkie and campaigned for a few days for the first time in my life, but that doesn't mean like everyone else, I don't wrinkle my nose at dirty politics. I just figured that since Justice Roberts and the whole right-wing gang of judges on the Supreme Court ruled in Citizens United that corporations are equivalent to people and thus allowing unlimited amounts of campaign contributions (the Republicans wanted this to make resident Obama a one-term president!), that I ought to do something! How do you think gay people feel when they don't have the same rights as straight people! And corporations are people? The ruling in Citizens United is so bad that Senator McCain went rogue Republican and blasted it worse (see Youtube video) than the President during the State of the Union Address. (I remember seeing McCain on Jay Leno after the decision came out. I might not agree with McCain on all issues, but he's a stand up guy!) I always know who I'm going to get along with when I ask them what they think of Citizens United.

Thus, seeing billionaires like casino mogul Adelson pledge up to $100 million dollars at the start of Romney's campaign, I thought I should chip in my two cents of campaigning to Obama's campaign. Anyway, Democrats are happy to limit campaign contributions, but isn't it a blast that the billionaire Republicans who wanted to make President Obama a one-term "fluke" lost all their donations in failed senatorial bids as well? (Except the one in Nevada where I traveled to campaign.) Adelson upped the ante by pledging $200 million during the last weeks as the election tightened but that only spurred people like me to travel to a swing state and campaign! I met so many people who spent their vacation time to travel to help campaign in Nevada it was amazing! After throwing money around like it's god's will, the wealthy still couldn't beat the little guy. Remember what I said, it's the ground game, baby! (I contributed $5, hey don't knock it, I gave up two fruit smoothies for that!)

But now, a few hours before the Official Inaugural Ball, Ssal-derella (get it, Cinderella?) was left with no tickets to the ball! All right folks, I was willing to go without Prince Charming, but tickets were impossible to get, probably about a 0.001% chance of finding one since it was approaching evening already (that's one out of 100,000, I think--I keep changing the number of zero's).

Ticketmaster had announced that they were going to sell Official Inaugural Ball tickets at 8:00 a.m. about two weeks before the inauguration, but due to a technical snafu, translation: someone screwed up big time, tickets went on sale early in the middle of the night, and by the time many of us woke the next morning, they were all gone! Talk about Ticketmaster messing up!

Incidentally, commoners such as myself were never allowed to attend the inaugural ball before Obama's presidency. Attendees could only be invited, translation: 98% wealthy elite donors (and inbred relations), full-time campaign workers, celebrities, war heroes (very fittingly), attorneys and lobbyists that work for the campaign...I'm surprised that President Clinton never allocated a portion of ball tickets to be made available to the public, tch tch...

So, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, although I suspect that subsequent presidents will allow the public to purchase tickets now that Obama has, (otherwise they'll look like they don't care about the Forty-Seveners that Romney referred to at his campaign fundraiser--see my satirical poem on A Tale of Two Romneys). Still, tickets will always be extraordinarily difficult to get, as a few thousand supply for I'm guessing tens of thousands, at the least, clamoring on Ticketmaster would last for all of say, 2.8 minutes assuming they didn't put them on sale early and their website didn't crash!

While pondering how I would get into The Official Inaugural Ball, I figure I might as well get dressed, because if I got tickets at 7:00 p.m. after the ball already started and it took me 1.5 hours to get ready...I'm slow at getting ready for a ball, folks, hair and makeup are not my thing. As it happened, or maybe it was fate, it had been exactly one year to the date that I had anywhere fancy to go to...When I heard that the inauguration was on Monday, January 21, 2012 instead of January 20th per the 20th Amendment (when inaugurations fall on a Sunday, they are pushed to Monday), I knew something was up even though I had no intention of traveling to the capitol in the winter! But something made me apply to my Congressman for tickets to the inauguration despite my dread of the cold winter temps...and wouldn't you know it, I got a confirmation 9 days before the inauguration! (See Part One of how I got to the inauguration.)

I packed several dresses because no time to shop for a new dress (wouldn't have anyway, as I've plenty that I've worn only once) and also had no idea what I could still squeeze into. As mentioned, the inauguration was on Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday on Monday, January 21, folks, and was exactly the day to the year when I wore a traditional ethnic dress, dazzling pink in color, with high button neck and so form fitting I was corseted like a plastic doll (I think most of me was made up that day) and was one of the most punishing days of my life. One of the happiest, yet one of the most grueling, lol! (I am so glad that day's over!) There were twenty snap and hook buttons on that dress so that if you exhaled or laughed too hard, the button would pop open! Anyway, I had not tried on my gorgeous pink ethnic dress for exactly one year and had no idea if it would fit. No, I've never been on a diet (knock on wood) but even two pounds in the wrong place meant I wouldn't be able to button up.

The dress has two ve-ery ver-ry high slits up both sides (like all the way to the waist!) so comes with matching swing pants, which were as unforgiving as the dress, so as I squeezed myself into the dress and pants like a caterpillar spinning a cocoon around itself (the dress really requires someone else to button you into it while you hold your breath like a dummy, mannequin, that is), one button kept popping open while I was busy buttoning another one! Then, when I had on ALL 18 hooks, snaps and buttons, I realize that one button wasn't fastened! Which one did I miss? That's why you need a second person to button you in while you hold out your arms like a scarecrow! Can you believe some women wear these costumes riding to church on a motorcycle in the heavy, humid tropical climates near the equator? I did that once and thought how backward some traditions are for women and am so thankful I live in America where I go around in jeans and tees all year round! Yay!

So I redid the snaps and hooks, hopefully correctly but realized later that night one button was off but not noticeable, lol. Just keep smiling I always say and no one looks at anything else, =)  So, thusly attired with my hair in a chignon, unlike a year ago when it was loose, I put on my pink coat, and headed out. Had no idea if I'd be able to find a ticket outside the Washington Convention Center where the two official balls were being held, but if you don't try, you don't get, I always say! (I also say you should migrate to warm weather because God didn't bless us with fur coats at birth!)

It might also be noted that in 2008, there were over THIRTY (30) Official Inaugural Balls for President Obama's first inauguration, so you can imagine how scarce tickets were in 2012 when there were only two Official Inaugural Balls in respect to the budgetary problems and struggling families. That means Official Ball tickets were practically nonexistent weeks before January 21, as in asymptotically approaching zero, from below no less! It was also dropping below freezing as I went downstairs and hailed a cab. As stepped out of my hotel to get into a cab, the wind whooshed through the lobby cutting against my legs as if I were wearing shorts. I practically was, as the crepe-thin silk pants were no barrier against the onslaught of icy winds.

When my cabbie got to the convention Center, only one mile away, he asked me where I wanted him to drop me off. I saw a long line snaking around in the dark for blocks and my heart dropped. People were leaning into the wind like it was an invisible easy chair. No scalpers, but I think they're illegal anyway. Funny thing is, I was trying to find someone to crash the ball with but no one wanted to come given that I already felt as if I was getting frostbite in my fingertips, toes, noes, and hair.

I approached a couple of security guards to inquire where the end of the line was--I couldn't even see to the end--at least it was moving briskly. I thought about cutting in line but what for? I didn't have tickets yet. I walked a couple blocks until I thought I saw the end of the line and swung in with the rest of the partygoers I asked them where they got their tickets and if they knew whether anywhere still available and where one could get an ball ticket. Yeah. Right. Although I couldn't feel my ears anymore, the line was moving briskly and security was calling out that we should have our tickets in our hands ready...Way up ahead, I saw where security was checking for tickets. My heart dropped. To travel all this way and not get to the inaugural ball! Why, that was just cruel! What else was a girl supposed to do on the night of a presidential inauguration! I wondered what idiotic idea got me to this place. I remembered waking up early to see Obama's first inauguration and that was thrilling.

I hated to be so-o-o close and not get in, but there was no way on earth I was getting through Secret Service, no way in hell...I even forgot about how my pants were not keeping me even the slightest bit warm in the gusting wind. But I felt that I was meant to go to the ball, no, not the fairytale Cinderella feeling, just the same feeling I got when I found out that the inauguration was going to be on January 21, that this was going to be one of the funnest days of my life. I mean, I only got confirmation the week before the inauguration that I was allocated tickets to the swearing-in ceremony and had less than a week to plan my trip, which granted, wasn't planned very well since I was outside the Washington Convention Center in freezing temps walking in line with all the ticket holders  doing lord knows what. But I had got bumped up a section for the swearing-in ceremony and got the tiniest glimpse of the President. It was all coming together, the stars and comets and galaxies...What was I going to do next? Go with it, I guess, the way I always do...Figured I probably couldn't talk myself in because I never was a salesman anyway...I had about thirty seconds left before I hit security...What was I gonna' do?


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MY OTHER WRITINGS AND POETRY

The Unofficial Inaugural Poem for President Obama, yet written with as much Love as anyone could.

A Tale of Two Romneys, a Satirical Poem on the Flip-Flopping Mitt Romney

Chapter 1: Princess Boo Wakes Up on the Wrong Side of the Bed, , A Serial Story a la Alice In Wonderland but probably more confusing because it was written by me.

What I Said When I Saw Salvador Dali's the Metamorphosis of Narcissus in the Tate Modern (Besides, Wow, This is Really Small!)

The Cataracts of Iguacu, A Story Poem I Wrote When I Couldn't Make it to the Waterfalls of Iguazu (Iguacu).

If You are a Led Zeppelin Fan, You Will Like This. Remember Houses of the Holy? Wrote some lyrics that continue the story, Led Zep style (yes, it rhymes and you can sing to the song as well)!

Dusame in the Mirror, An Epic Poem reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven, A Modern Day Medusa (with a lot of Baggage and a Conscience)