Sometimes, Melissa runs her legs. Sometimes, she runs her mouth.
I told you I got crazy sunburn election day. This has been a crazy week. I have endured sleep deprivation, medication withdrawal, euphoria, exhaustion, and nausea. Oh and the catchup rush when I got back to real life here.
I haven’t had time to write it all down. There’s something about being in the midst of something so large and historic that you want to get everything down just so. Of course, perfectionism has its drawbacks like procrastination (here!). So I have not written about it yet.
2 years and 1 day ago, I uploaded this picture to flickr. This was taken at a get out the vote rally for now Governor Mike Beebe.
Now I think. WOW. Did I call it when I drove like a crazy woman from my town to the capital to see this? He’s President now and I was pretty gosh darn close. I mean… WOW!
I’m feeling a little Forrest Gump-y right now.
I cannot tell a lie. I was a little bit nervous about meeting the “team fabulous” team and going out with them. The last time I met a large group of people that I mainly didn’t know, I was forced to listen some guy talk about his “Italian sausage” for 45 minutes at a sit down dinner.
But this was not that event. This was fun.
We loaded into the hotel shuttle and took our fabulous butts to La Hacienda on Cantrell. There was booze.
That’s a raspberry Margarita. It was orgasm good.
Since it was also a double birthday party, there was cake.
If you celebrate your birthday at La Hacienda, you get your picture taken with a sombrero and blanket, a serenade and a shot of tequila (if you’re over 21).
There was laughing and practical joking. I think we scared Mitch, the shuttle driver.
I didn’t get the memo about dressing like a Transvestite hooker for the Race but considering that I was called Man Woman in college (damn you Frank and Ken!), I think I can definitely pull that shit off. Nextyear, girls. NEXT YEAR.
It is quite awe inspiring to see 40,000 people gathered in one place to support one cause, no matter what the cause is. The Broadway bridge was bouncing. That was a little bit scary.
The other interesting thing is the groups that line the race route along the way. There are bellydancers, firemen, politicians, regular guys (or the Three miles of men), Bikers, line dancers, cheerleaders, a high school marching band, etc. It’s touching. Really.
Last Friday at 5:00, I was on the steps of the state capital awaiting the arrival of Hillary Rodham Clinton. She was set to speak at a rally on the steps and then go to a big fancy pants thousand dollars a plate fundraising dinner for Barak Obama.
There were lots of other “fancy pants” people there including Mary Steenburgen and Ted Danson (hey Hollywood fancy pants), Marion Berry, Vic Snyder, Blanche Lincoln, Mike Beebe, Wesley Clark, and David Pryor.
Of course, being politicians, they all had to get on the podium and say something. The formula is fairly simple: say something good about Arkansas, say something good about yourself, say something good about Hillary, say something bad about McCain, and say something good about Obama and how that good directly contradicts the bad about McCain. Therefore, to save the world from destruction, you have to get all your friends to vote for Obama.
Yes there is the political rally in one simple paragraph.
My one and only complaint about this and every other rally or rock concert in Arkansas. The idea of personal space. Seriously, people expect to have three feet of space between themselves and the other people in the crowd. Honey, if you smell that bad, people are going to smell you even if you stand a hundred and three feet away from them. Sheesh.
This weekend was one of those crazy busy weekends. Now that it’s Sunday, I don’t even have time to write about it all. I will, however, give you a little list of tidbits
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