Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The Time I Met Obama


Before I launch into my comedic post about my fantastically debauchery-less yet still amazingly fun (because I'm now old) trip to New Orleans, which resulted in me (almost) meeting Obama, I want to post a PSA.

Please, please, please go to the website http://laislafoundation.org/about-us/#ourstory and read a little about this non-profit organization.  They are doing truly awesome humanitarian work.  The people who run this organization are some of the most intelligent, passionate, fucking badass people I've ever met (which is impressive considering that I've [almost {not even close}] met Obama).  Help out this organization if you can, even if you just help spread the word.

     ***  If you don't email this link to everyone in your address book you will be banished to purgatory for all eternity.  If you don't post it on Twitter, Facebook, and tattoo it on your forearm, you and the next 20 generations of your descendants will rot in the hottest corner of Hell.   
Sorry about that last part. Facebook made me do it.  But seriously, please help out however you can.

And now on to my NOLA story and how I (almost [not even close {I saw a secret service guy}]) met Obama.  I saw a man a nice suit standing rigidly, with one of those little kind-of-inconspicuous ear pieces, in the lobby of the Roosevelt hotel.  During dinner someone mentioned that Obama was there for a wedding.   We saw some of the wedding guests parading through the hotel, and then through the street, waving their little decorative umbrellas to brass band music.  I never saw Obama, but it would have been awesome to see him prancing through a hotel with a little lacy decorative umbrella.

Is there a blogger award for Most Anti-Climactic Post of the Year?  The most impressive part of this story is that I squelched my immediate desire to track down the secret service guy and ask if I could feel his biceps.  I've always wondered if they're like super-human strong, you just can't tell because they're always wearing suits.  Or they might be robots.

The not-seeing-Obama part of this post is really pretty boring.  Not only is this post incredibly anti-climactic, but is probably going to land me on some NSA (we know she's a boring soccer mom but now we have to watch her because she said the president's name on the internet.  God, we hate these fucking people who throw around the president's name and now we can't go home to dinner because we've got to read her texts and her blog and her e-mails and listen to her phone calls) watch list. But the jokes on them because my texts consist of  making soccer carpool plans, making dinner plans, and saying sexily unprintable things to my husband.  I don't even MENTION the president, unless I'm texting someone to say that I didn't meet him.

Aside from not meeting the president, we did a lot of walking and perusing art galleries, and generally enjoying the beautiful weather.  Mostly, we did a lot of eating. OMG, was the food good.  I don't think I ate a single thing this weekend that didn't make me sigh with pleasure.

Lessons of the day:  
La Isla is a praise and funding worthy organization
You will probably not rot in Hell for not spreading the word... but why risk it?
Bourbon street smells like puke and is littered with people who are drunk at 9am (I didn't cover this in the post, but it's a well known fact)
I'm an expert at false promises


Happy Wednesday ya'll



Amanda The Southern UnBelle



5 comments:

  1. I once saw Michelle Obama coming out of The Shake Shack in DC with her security posse. That counts, right? :-p

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    Replies
    1. Absolutely it counts. Being within shouting distance is totally acceptable. ;-)

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  2. You know, I'm going to pretend you DID see Obama prancing through a hotel with a lacy umbrella.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, that would have greatly improve the blog. Even better would be the secret service guys in their sunglasses and earpieces skipping along next to him.

      Delete
  3. I almost met Obama at a bachelorette party...in which all of the parking garages in Chicago were closed because Obama was speaking in the building next to Sweet Water Tavern, where we were having dinner.

    ReplyDelete

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