First dance

So remember how I was all womp womp about not being able to be in DC with all of you for the inauguration? Well, I’m still womp womp. Even more so after I had to go to bed last night knowing everyone stateside was just gearing up to watch everything (from the frigid Mall or gathered around their TV sets).

I woke up around 8:30am (6:30pm est) and watched a replay of the President’s oath and speech on MSNBC. I caught up on reactions via Twitter. I flipped through blogs and I skimmed photos. While I was glad for the Obamas and proud of the historical moment we are living through, I was kind of pissed because, well, it just didn’t feel like much. Folks on Twitter were talking about their tears and the shivers up their spine. They were all on and on about the electicity in the air, even while their toes froze off of their feet.

Womp womp.

Granted, I’m not much of a crier unless I’m going through my ever-3-months breakdown and I’m still like two months away from my next due date.

Then I got back on Google Reader and saw some more blogs. I came across Barack and Michelle’s first dance as President and First Lady, boppin’ to the beat of Etta James’ classic “At Last,” sang by a more restrained than usual (but still fabulous) Beyonce.

I might just be sitting in the study room on campus in Tokyo, JPN with my earbuds in, volume turned down low, but I was cheesing the whole way through. Right at the end, when Michelle threw her arms around her husband’s neck, I got that tingly, stingy feeling in my eyes like MAYBE I could have dropped a tear. I’ll take it.

Whooooooooooooooo!!!

Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!! I have no voice. I was screaming that all night. Yes! Victory! This is some crazy shit, yo. BONKERS!

courtesy of The Black Snob

I was sitting in my girl’s crib, surrounded by friends, new and old. We took a break from playing Taboo (the greatest game ever) as the results of key states started to roll in. All of a sudden, CNN threw up a bar on the bottom of the screen that said Barack Obama Elected President. The reactions were all some form of, “Wait, wha?”  “No, really?”  “Yes.”  “We’re reading it.” “Turn the channel to FoxNews. They hate Obama. If they say it, it’s gotta be true!”

It’s true.

DAMN! I looked around and between opening more beers and screaming off of the balcony on South Street, I noticed folks taking their own moments to soak it all in. Quiet and pensive. Reflective and introspective. We got up and turned on the music, dancing around the apartment. Screaming at people on the street who hadn’t yet heard. At first, people didn’t believe us. I understood. Even though days before I had already claimed this victory for Obama, I was still stunned. I guess we had all been burned before, had victories snatched away from us before right when we had it in our grasp. We know “they” cheat. But this morning at 8am, it’s really real.