The week that was

It feels like it's been about 10 years since my last post, instead of 10 days. So, here's what the intervening time was like for me:

Monday: Bruce Springsteen in concert - woo-hoo! (Floor seats and everything!)

Tuesday: Barack Obama rally here in Winston-Salem - I'm glad I went, but it wasn't as surreal as I thought it would be. Tuesday afternoon, when I call Mom to brag and she tells me she's on her way to see Bill Clinton, I don't even get a Bill-related flutter in my stomach. Is this how people in Iowa and New Hampshire feel all the time?

Wednesday: Back to normal...or so I thought. As I'm walking out of the office, I'm informed that the Hillary Clinton campaign has asked to hold a get-out-the-vote rally here on campus on Friday. No other details.

Thursday: We get the confirmation on Hillary's rally by about 9:30, but no other details. We're supposed to do a walk-through with the Secret Service people and the Clinton advance people in the afternoon. (Over the next 24 hours, I'll tell roughly 497 people, most of them strangers, that my uncle's getting married to a Secret Service agent on Sunday.) Thursday night, I somehow make it to a Young Dems meeting, even though I still haven't packed and I get to meet Hillary frakin' Clinton tomorrow.

Friday: See, here's the issue. Julie, the photographer that we always hire when we need good pictures might not be able to get here until right before the rally starts. But we need a picture of our president with Sen. Clinton, so someone's got to get clearance to go "behind the curtain" and snap the pic once Clinton arrives. And that person might end up being me. I touch up my eye-shadow just in case...but as it turns out Julie gets there in plenty of time.

I was a little disappointed by the whole thing. People arriving, a handful of students actually protesting, and I still feel so detached from it all. I might as well be watching this on TV. I'm waiting for what Brick in "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" called "the click" (only not in an alcoholic way). I want to be one of those people who faints and pulls out my hair when the Beatles get off the plane, but I don't think it's ever going to happen.

The closest I got was a mild palpitation when the traveling press corps arrived. On one end of the gym, a former first lady, U.S. Senator, and front-running presidential candidate whom we know had sex with Bill Clinton at least once is catching her breath behind a masking drape. On the other are a dozen overly surly, poorly fed masters of journalism who make less than I do working for WaPo, the Times and CNN and who are shooting the local press the evil eye 'cause we got the good seats on the platform. Guess where my attention was?

I'll share more thoughts on Clinton's remarks later. From a standpoint of, "I can tell my grandkids about this," it was pretty cool. (I got to go into the "buffer zone," btw - the area between the stage and the audience.) And I'd put heavy money on the fact that a good portion of the people attending were there just to be able to say they saw Hillary Clinton, not because they plan on voting for her.

But I give her enormous, heaping kudos for actually being somewhat close to on time. Because that meant that I got to leave the office on time, get home, pack, get to my parents' house and leave on schedule for Georgia, where the most important event of the week happened - my Uncle Scott's wedding.

Saturday: driving, driving, driving...Apparently while rolling around on the floor in the buffer zone snapping pictures of Hillary Clinton, I seriously strained muscles in my thighs. Couple that with five to six hours in a car, and I'm walking kind of funny. Saturday's also the day of the rehearsal dinner, held at a lovely restaurant that inexplicably doesn't serve alcohol. (This is even more funny if you know my family.) Don't worry, we picked up supplies later.

Which turned out to be a good thing, as I'm not sure I could've gotten my mom to watch the Richmond race with me if we hadn't been exhausted, but with plenty of wine. (This should probably be its own post...)

Sunday: The wedding isn't until tonight, so we meet up with my grandmother, aunt, uncle and two cousins at good ol' Cracker Barrel. (Yeah, 'cause I don't have to fit into a pretty dress in six hours or anything. I think I'll have some hashbrown casserole.) It turns out that our hotel is right across the street from the Mall of Georgia, so my little sister Elizabeth and our friend Kristie decide to, ahem, get some exercise after lunch. We did have an actual mission - handbags, cheap sparkly jewelry from Claire's, etc. (I LOVE Claire's. If I ever go to the Oscars, that's totally where I'm buying everything.)

Okay, so my new Aunt Tania (I love writing that!) is not only perfect for my Uncle Scott, but also happens to be magnificent in her own right. Let me just give you an example: not half an hour before the wedding was to start, Elizabeth and I came upon Tania sitting in a hallway just inside the entrance to the house where they were getting married. And do you know what she said? This gorgeous woman, sitting there in her wedding gown, her hair and make-up flawlessly done, glowing becuse it's the happiest day of her life, says, "Oh, you two look so beautiful!" That's what I'm talking about. Tania loves Scott, we know. But she also loves his family, and that's what pushes her off the charts.

And that's when I felt the click. Yeah, yeah, Springsteen, Obama, Clinton, traveling press corps gys...Y'all have nothing on my family. I may not be a screamer, but, when I'm feeling that warmth somewhere in my mid-section, I know how to let it in. I'm thrilled that Scott and Tania found each other, and even more thrilled that they had the courage to just go after one another. Nothing could compare to last Sunday, seeing that many truly happy people in one place.

Monday: Rode home. Legs still hurting. Went to sleep.

Tuesday: wasn't some primary thing happening today......?