January 11, 2009 | Filed under: Because They Pay Me, DC! DC! DC!

Preparations are in full swing, here in our nation’s capital, where soon five million people* will descend upon the city and surrounding six states for the historic inauguration of Barack Obama.

* Or two million. We’re not sure. Either way, we’re pretty sure it’s gonna be a shit-ton of them and it’ll make the natives cry and wish for the easy, breezy, uncongested streets we see during the Cherry Blossom Festival.

Things started last fall, with the repaving of Pennsylvania Avenue (Confidential to those of you who will see the parade on TV: Yes, DC has had some work done, but let me tell you, the asphalt really does look *that* good in person. It’s not just her make-up artist.); the assembly of the bleachers and podium and whatnot in front of the Capitol has been going on for a couple of months; and in the last few weeks, weekly updates about which roads and bridges into the city will be open on Inauguration Day. (Hint: none.)

In the past two weeks, the activity around my office has gotten quite noticeable.  The street is blocked off a couple of blocks away.  That started right around New Year’s, without notice, just nope, you can’t go there. A police car is permanently parked in the way. Today there were jersey barriers strategically placed on the sidewalk at each corner of the block. And many more bleachers have been set up along the parade route leading to the White House. I was worried today that going to the ATM was going to require crossing a police line — the yellow tape fluttered in the wind. Thankfully, Bank of America appears not to be off limits. Yet.

* * * * * *

So, DC is nearly ready. You know who is not ready? ME.

Work is hosting an Inaugural Ball, which, yay! fun! fancy dresses and guys in tuxes! (Note to self: Hands. Off. 90% of them are married and the other 10% are gay.)

I’ve had my dress for a while (knowing life would be insane now-ish and I would have no desire to go shopping for a dress under such stressful conditions), which sounds very prepared of me. Yeah. Let me tell you, Christmas cookies for breakfast + no gym time + fancy dress made of totally unforgiving satin = not prepared.  NOT PREPARED.

I’m hoping for my own version of an 8-day miracle, and it better not involve any oil.

(The dry cleaner/seamstress lady in my office building really liked the dress, though, and thought it fit perfectly. I agree, if by “perfectly” you mean “it shows perfectly every ounce of mass in my body without a millimeter to spare for lovely supportive undergarments.” I’m hoping for a miracle from her, too, because I’m out of town until the day before I need to pick the dress up, so there’s not much margin for error here. No pressure!)

(And yes, my dress features boobs. Nice, tasteful, work-appropriate boobs.)

* * * * * *

Just in case there was any confusion out there and y’all thought I am a mature, responsible grown-up, let me assure you that I have the mind of a 12-year old boy. That was probably clear from the title of this post, but if not, please know that in the span of ten minutes, I snickered at both of the following quotes from sportscasters calling a football game this weekend:

Not a lot of room for Kurt Warner to get the ball in there.

Just stick it up in there and get three or four yards.

I mean, that first one isn’t even that funny. But it sort of is, especially if you’re only half listening to the commentary, which I was. Similarly, I have a credit card whose online account access page requires you to visit — and I am not making this up – www.servicemycard.com. WHO IN MARKETING MISSED THAT ONE? Really, people? Really? Or am I the only customer out there who can’t keep a straight face while she checks her most recent statement?

Finally, a tip for all of you football fans:  do not date someone with the same last name as a talented running back.  When you cease dating, watching football will become noticeably less enjoyable, as you will continually be reminded of your ex’s existence, and spending the game hoping some horrible groin injury befalls him isn’t really fair to the football player.

1. Superfantastic says:
   

   Can’t wait to see the dress! There Will Be Boobs of perhaps an inadvisable extent happening in my inaugural ball dress, considering that my inaugural ball will be composed of high schoolers. I assume this means There Will Be Staring on the Part of Teenage Boys. Awesome.

   January 14th, 2009 at 11:59 pm
2. K says:
   

   So… how was the ball? My pumpkin didn’t magically turn into a carriage so I was left at home in my raggedy sweatpants.

   January 21st, 2009 at 4:46 pm