Bill, I love you so, I always will
Tonight, I’ve got to look my best. I’m putting on my good pantyhose, my sexiest skirt, curling my hair for god’s sake! I am going to be in Grade A condition for an experience I have longed for since the presidential debates in ’92—to see Bill Clinton speak.
He’ll be in town accepting an award for education, and me and my girl May are going to go and bask in he awesomeness. I am pretty sure our table is WAY in the back, but I don’t care. I’ve heard you can just feel his presence when he speaks. It’s supposed to be amazing. I freaking love Bill. I know he didn’t play all his cards right and made some pretty big mistakes (I’m talking real mistakes not blow jobs from chubby interns), but he inspired in me a real faith in leadership. I believe he could get things done, and I really grew into politics under his eight years of running things.
I miss Bill. I miss him a lot. I miss him speaking, I miss seeing him on TV, I miss the way he could really answer questions and enjoys explaining complicated issues or decisions. More competence, less smirking. It was the best.
I am a little sad that I probably won’t get to meet him. There will be lots of people and I think we are leaving early (big house party to hit tonight). I wish him and Hill would come party with us. We would have a great time. I know it. Bill could “smoke” on the roof deck, and Hill could play quarters…don’t tell me that she didn’t hone her quarters skills at Yale law, and you know they throw that shit down in the cloak room. Oh, if he could bring his sax and jam that would also be sweet. Sigh. He should totally come party with us.
But, I will be satisfied with just getting to see him speak.