Get mad as hell and decide not to take it anymore, check.
Feel like I can't make a difference, check.
Get assaulted (in the best sense of the word) on my neighborhood street by an Obama supporter/fundraiser/champion/and now friend and make a commitment to get involved, check.
Get a t-shirt and small sticker for my Blackberry, check.
Get involved, check.
Go to Michigan, check.
See an Oscar de la Renta dress in a magazine and buy it thinking IF he is elected that I would try to go to the inaugural and wear the dress, check.
Give $, check.
Go to BIG fundraising event in Beverly Hills, check.
Find out, while everyone milled about with no direction to ask a young man with an earpiece and find out that the flag and stanchions over by the side of the building were for the photo-op with the Senator, check.
Be VERY close to the front of the line, check.
Thank the Senator, shake his hand, smile and get our picture taken with him, check.
Regret not wearing the purple suit, check.
Vote for Obama/Biden, check.
Weep on the phone with my daughter in college in Ohio as he was announced the winner, check.
Blackberry all my friends around the world and collectively cry, scream and rejoice, check.
Call the California fundraising committee, find out that the man I am speaking to is the same young man with the earpiece and the good intel and ask him about buying tickets to the Inaugural, check.
Get the call that he needs donors, and that my husband and I can buy tickets also known as a package, check.
Call wonderful friends to ask if they wanted to split the package, check.
Call our travel agent, check.
Pay (gouging) priced airline tickets, check.
Call the Willard Hotel, the reservation clerk laughs when I say I wanted to get a room, check.
Leave my name for any cancellations, check.
Call my local D.C. friends for cars, rooms and basic intel, check.
Find a beauty salon, check.
Get the call that a small room opened up at the Willard and did we want it, check.
Get map of Downtown D.C. and start planning, check.
Start hearing conflicting reports of road closures and start training for what I think might be more walking than I've done since I was preparing for the movie Perfect, check.
Hear about the Reverend Rick Warren invocation, check.
Write letter of protest, check.
Get first invitation to the Huffington Post Party, check.
Start hearing rumors about NO port-a-potties anywhere on the 20th (security threats), check.
Do the math, at least six or seven hours without a bathroom, check.
Buy Depends, check.
Start spreadsheet on timed potty needs for last four weeks, check.
Stop eating Activia yogurt, check.
Start talking to other friends who will be there, check.
Start hearing about parties I am not invited to, check.
Listen to NPR and hear two African American teachers read the poems from their new book; Go Tell Michelle: African American Women Write to the New First Lady, check.
Weep, check.
Remember what this is all about, check.
Check my ego, check.
Buy hand, feet and ass warmers, rain poncho (no umbrellas), long underwear, snow boots, check.
Bring a small bar of chocolate, an old friend of mine told me to always have a little chocolate when you are walking or on your feet for a prolonged time, check.
Hear that there WILL be port-a-potties, check.
Take Depends out of suitcase and put back in the French press for a nice cup of morning coffee, check.
Start eating Activia again, check.
Pack alarm clock to wake up REALLY early on the 20th, check.
Make a list of people I want to bring back souvenirs for, check.
Pack, check.
Pray, check.
Hope, check.
Pledge, check.
Inhale, check.
Exhale, check.
Check.
Go.
Witness history, pending.
Depends. (Check)
Let's add, help Kevin Bacon get a paying gig at the inaguration. Check.
And no, I will not put a "Mission Accomplished" banner on a ship that hasn't even left the harbor, yet. Call me again in ten or twenty years to tell me that America really changed in 2008 in a meaningful and lasting way.
you are too cute, Jamie!
Have fun!
Thanks for coming to Michigan!