confiscated.

Friday morning, I felt like I was in a movie. Secret service people hanging out in all the shadows, slyly whispering into their subtle ear/mouth pieces, super thorough purse and body checks, and of course, stressing about the perfect outfit.


In hindsight, I sort of wish I'd spent Thursday night planning an outfit, locating the iron to ensure said outfit was wrinkle-free, taking a shower, mapping directions to the speech site, and cleaning out my purse- as opposed to downing a 27 ounce marg in honor of a holiday to which I have no connection and starting a bonfire in the backyard of my urban domicile that lasted until late into the evening.


But, essentially I did nothing to prepare and didn't get enough sleep, thus perpetuating myself into a state of panic and borderline despair until I finally made it through security on Friday morning.


Let me just go ahead and tell you a little story about girlchild me. I've been OBSESSED with The President of the United States since I found out about voting and democrazy. Hahaha I meant to type 'democracy,' but I kind of like that little slip-up. Anyway, let's keep moving. Initially, it didn't matter WHO the president was, I just held the position to the highest esteem. As I strove for control and perfection in every facet of my life, I'd ask myself OFTEN "What would The President think of this?" or "Would I be proud to show this to The President?" In fact, I could turn a task as simple as cleaning my already-tidy room into a seven-hour ordeal and sob-fest at this simple thought. It wasn't good enough to get good grades and excel in sports, I wanted to make The President proud.


I probably spent most of my formative years waiting for The President to come and inspect the tight corners and perfect angles that I'd spent hours perfecting on my bed-sheets.


But, apparently tequila, sunshine, and old age have softened me considerably, because Thursday night I did nothing to prepare for my first-ever experience in the same proximity as an actual US President.


As I ran around on Friday morning, cursing myself and leaving a wake of confusion and hysteria, I created a mental list of "I WILL NEVER, EVER, MAKE THIS MISTAKE AGAIN BEFORE HAVING THE GOOD FORTUNE TO FULFILL ONE OF MY CHILDHOOD DREAMS."


1. Wake up earlier. If I want to leave at 9:45, I learned that I can't roll out of bed 45 minutes prior and expect to shower and wolf down sustenance as I would on a normal workday. This was, in my own little world, a red-letter day and I should have left myself double the time to spasmatically breathe and try on six reject outfits before finding the perfect balance of preppy-but-not-too-Republican.


2. Decide what you're wearing the night before. Try it on. Iron it if necessary. Lay out in preparation to make this process easier on yourself. I actually ironed a dress-shirt with my flatiron on Friday morning because in my frantic state of alarm, I failed to locate the iron. It was pathetic. I've rarely felt such extreme self-hatred as the moment I realized I was going to be forced to wear a wrinkly shirt on the day I was going to be in a semi-intimate audience to see The President of the United States of America due to lack of fore-thought. Fail.


3.  Map directions. It seems pretty simple. It wasn't... apparently. I also found out after walking a half a mile in heels that I had access to park in the lot not twenty yards from the door.


4.  CLEAN OUT YOUR PURSE PRIOR TO SECURITY CHECK. This is where I mention with chagrin that I had an item confiscated and "Handed over to local authorities," when the secret service or whoever was doing security looked through my purse. Since I was in such a hurry to get out the door, I just grabbed my messenger bag/purse and didn't think twice about its contents. Until Hottie McPursechecker was wading through my shit and I realized I had about 26 loose Midol floating around the bottom, countless random scraps of paper/unwrapped pieces of gum, and this device:

YIKES.

Instant and complete mortification. A congressman and his two school-age children were trying to get through security at the same time as me, and judging from their bewildered stares I can only imagine their conversation when they got to their seats was something along these lines:

"Daddy, was that lady trying to hurt the President?

I don't think so honey, she looked like a well-meaning, but utterly unprepared and semi-careless citizen.

Doesn't everyone know you can't bring stuff like that to see The President?

You'd think so, honey, but she obviously wasn't as welllbred and intelligent as we are. Did you see the wrinkles on her shirt?

Yeah! What did she think this was, the grand opening of a new Walmart?"

Hateable.

I was so embarrassed to see my dangerous, yet really handy tool, that I instantly started sweating and apologizing profusely. I told the guard he could just throw it away, and that's when he laid the bit on me about turning it over to the local authorities. I could have melted into the ground.

4. Important people are always late, so don't fret about being at an event when the doors open. Even I should have known this. Instead of running around like Tucker Max with his dick cut off, I could just have relaxed and realized that his speech wasn't scheduled to started until two and half hours after doors. Plus, I hate pushy crowds where everyone's trying to get in first. I'd much rather not wait in line. So, despite arriving at the speech location thirty minutes after doors, I was NOWHERE near late, I was just unknowingly smart.

All in all, I pulled myself together, managed to weazel into a good seat despite my 'standing room only' instructions, and watched in awe as The President delivered a speech live and in living color in my presence. I can only hope that I'll get the opportunity to see another presidential speech, whomever he OR SHE, may be in the future.

Luckily, I've also let go of the fear of The Prez showing up to inspect my sheets, come on, they don't even pump their own gas, they've got WAY bigger fish to fry.

Hope your weekend was great!

XO Sare