cause i've got a purple ticket [the day of]

6:57am
my alarm goes off.
not even close to having gotten enough sleep, we jump off the air mattress and begin preparing ourselves for the day ahead. the mattress didn't hold the air the whole night through, and so not only did i toss and turn all night long, but whenever i tossed or turned, i hit the ground. i slept horribly. i was not a happy camper when my Ringtone #3 began blasting a little before 7.
we knew the day was going to be a chilly one [forecasters said 30 degrees] so we did our best to bundle up. two pairs of socks, leggings, pants, tank top, long sleeved shirt, pull over, pea coat [courtesy of someone who left it behind at hermitage months and months ago], hat, mittens, scarf...im READY. bring it on, barack.

we left the house a little before 7:30 and began our 10 minute walk to the capitol. we had received purple tickets, and we saw the day before that the purple gate was the closest to ben's. how lucky. some people waited hours at the metro for a train. others waited hours inside, not able to get out of the stations because of the crowds. we walked alongside hundreds, drinking our overpriced trader joes protein smoothies, and finally saw the purple gate up ahead. we went to get into the first line we saw, only to ask and be told that it was a line for the yellow ticket holders. ok, we thought, our line's gotta be around here somewhere. we came to an area and were told we couldn't go any further. we asked the woman directing us away where we should go if we had purple tickets. she pointed down 1st street. "good luck," she added as we turned around.

as we walked down the purple line, about 6 people or so deep, i overheard a girl saying she had been there since 5am. ughh. i knew we had a ways to go. however, the further along 1st street we tried to go, the slower we were walking, until we came to an abrupt stop. we crawled over a chain and started walking up along the perimeter of the street, around trees and bushes, until even that ceased to move forward. stuck with a bush up my butt, i tried to see what was ahead. all i could see was a sea of people.
"what color ticket do you have?"
"purple."
"silver."
"ticket? i just want to get out of here."
clearly, this was going to be tougher than we had imagined.

8:15am
not wanting to get swept away in the direction of the silver tickets, matt and i stayed put right at the corner of 1st and D. people stopped moving. turns out, there were barriers up at the end of the block. there was nowhere to go. this crowd only grew larger by the minute, as everyone packed tighter and tighter onto the block. it's 8:30 in the morning, the woman behind me has got her walker up my ass and around my foot, it's cold as shit, i'm hugging complete strangers, and we're not moving. at all.

there was no security anywhere in sight.
you would think, when crowds of 2 million were expected, dc would have its shit together and monitor these forecasted crowds. instead, we were forced to listen to men like richard, a foreigner who decided to take it upon himself to direct the crowd. he was standing directly behind and above us on a lamppost platform and was yelling at us, with no credibility whatsoever, where to go, what he saw up ahead, and what he thought was going on.
he was stupid. and wrong. and all he did was work up the crowd.

9:30am
a man next to us called 911 to alert the authorities of the sheer magnitude of this situation and that complete chaos was not all that far away. "it's inauguration day. whaddya expect?" he was told.

i can't even tell you how closely crammed together we all were. i think i got further, sexually, with more people in 3 hours than i have during my life so far. suddenly, around 10:30 or so, after literally not moving an inch since getting crammed in this street corner, we surged forward about half a block. and when i say surged, i mean i had no control over where i was going. i was swept up in a wave of people and planted a half a block closer than i had been. apparently, silver ticket holders had broken down a barricade and this in turn allowed space for us to move. this is what i've been told, at least. who knows. i don't know what to think anymore. either way, we had finally moved. people were now given the opportunity to cut the line, much to the dismay of those of us who stayed in order. ["i hope your congressman is more honest than you!"]

we were now in a new mob of people which started about 10 deep and quickly grew to the width of the block again. i called my mom to see if she was hearing anything on tv about ticketed guests and whether or not everyone would be allowed in. she hadn't, but while i was on the phone i DID overhear a woman saying that if you had a purple ticket, your best bet would be to go over to the Yellow Gate and try to get in there. seeing that it was nearing 11am and the purple gate wasn't even open, we decided that we had nothing to lose, and went and joined our 3rd mass of obama-goers.

11:10am
new mob. new people. new hope.
again, closer than i would like to hundreds of people. so close, in fact, that when my phone rang, it not only vibrated in my pocket, it vibrated on another woman's leg. she thought it was her phone, until i, laughing, told her that no, it was just mine. on her leg. she told her friend to stay away from me. "she'll vibrate on you!" later on, when she accidentally hit me in the head with her glove, she told me that now we were even. this was a good crowd.

11:20am
a girl in front of me, realizing the time and that we haven't moved, is crying. i wanted to give her a hug, but knew that i wouldn't be much comfort. i was starting to freak out about not making it in, too. los angeles. i flew from los ANGELES. i have a TICKET. i had BETTER get through those gates or i am going to raise HELL.

11:30am
"purple tickets in the air! purple tickets in the air! this section is for purple ticket holders ONLY!"
this is the first order we have been given since arriving 4 hours earlier.
thousands of fists fly into the air, all of them bearing purple tickets.
we all had tickets.

finally, by some stroke of luck, our mass started moving forward. and kept moving forward. matt and i reached a security guard at a gate. really? there are people manning this? somebody works here? one of the first officials we'd seen all day. matt got let through, and a hand came down in between us. matt and i were still holding hands [the only thing to keep us from being swept away from each other] and the security guard decided that was grounds to yell at us. he was yelling at everyone to stop pushing, and, looking down at matt and i, proceeded to add, "this is what screws everything up. let go of each other."
slut.
just let me through the fuckin gate.

we finally busted through the "purple gate," which wasn't the original purple gate at all, but was actually the exit to the yellow gate, sprinted through metal detectors [for the record, there is tighter security at airports than there was at barack obama's presidential inauguration], and tried to find a viewing spot. barack is being introduced to the crowd as we're running around, and the moment we stand up on what ends up being our ledge for the rest of the ceremony, aretha breaks into song.
talk about timing.

during the days after the ceremony, i've been able to realize just how lucky we were to get in through that gate. at least 5,000 people, and probably more, WITH TICKETS, never even made it in. the planning committee cites overcrowding, but that's bullshit, because there was tons and tons of space in the ticketed area that matt and i were in. they just didn't have their shit together.

eff you, dianne feinstein, for almost giving me a coronary.

but in the end, thank you, dianne feinstein, for ultimately being the one to allow me to be present for such an occasion. this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and i still can't believe i was there for it. i can't put into words how i was feeling during the ceremony, except that the smile on my face was unwavering. and i think it will stay that way for quite some time.

barack obama, you are my hero.


so are you, matt, for wearing what you did.


untitled (Matt and purple tights)