I spent Inauguration Day glued to my television, working only intermittently on the client work piled up on my desk and in my Outlook e-box. That night, I went to a couple of Inauguration Day parties, beginning with one at the stunning home of A & F — one of the smartest, funnest (yes, I know it’s not a real word!), most hospitable couples in all of SRQ. After spending an inappropriate length of time drooling at their amazing art work, which I do whenever they’re kind enough to let me cross their threshhold, I made my way into the party gathering and found an old — and I mean that in both senses, but kindly — friend about whom I’d written previously in a column entitled Sarasota’s Real Rich.

I hobnobbed with some of the coolest, most interesting folks in Sarasota — including my friend, Ingrid, drank a bit too much (yep, still confusing the word inauguration with inebriation … but I’ll get it right one of these days), inadvertently kissed a complete stranger cum new acquaintance on the lips when I was aiming for his cheek (damn those phony French air kisses anyway!), and left the party early, stopping only to lust after the paintings again as I exited this belle maison and tripped along the way to the next party.

The night was massively windy, as you might recall, and en route, I managed to flash a car with a Marilyn Monroe-esque glimpse beneath my skirt when the wind quite naughtily pulled its own version of a subway grate gust. My flimsy satin skirt flew up to my neck right as I was crossing the street, catching me frozen deer-like in the headlights of a newly arriving party guest. Luckily, I was wearing the blackest leggings to save me from total mortification. Moving on.

Next arrived at the WSLR Inauguration Extravaganza — the People’s Potluck Party for Change — held at the Art Center near Van Wezel Hall. I got another fabulous inundation of art (some very good stuff on the walls — have to go back when I’m less UI) and ran into quite a few people I know. One acquaintance said “Geez, you look ten years younger.” After I got over the implied insult that I must have previously looked ten years older, I decided I AM ten years younger!

Again had the good fortune of running into Sarasota Democratic Club President, Nancy Feehan, who was maddeningly chic in a hot, hot, shiny leather trenchcoat. I basically wanted to kill her. This is me, leaning over her Join the Sarasota Democrats table, politely ignoring her chicness.

Chic? Who cares about chic when you're the Reality Chick?!

By the way, if you want to join the Sarasota Dems — you can easily do so HERE!

So, enough of my rambling. I’m stone cold sober and I better be, right? For the work ahead? For my cats, my self, my community, my clients, my friends and family, the strangers at the gate, and for my country.

Sober, single (still!), and spectacularly happy.

A year ago, I saw Jane Goodall speak at the Town Hall Series. Since that lecture, delivered in a no-nonsense manner, woke me up, I’ve managed to stick with a few changes inspired by Goodall. For example, it’s been months and months since I used a plastic bag at any grocery store or market (read my column about being the “right kind” of bag lady) In fact, I eschew them — plastic bags — in general no matter where I am — bookstores, Macy’s, the drugstore. I’m proud of the change, but know I can do more.

Since Obama’s inauguration yesterday, I’ve been thinking what more can I do for my country right now? There are all sorts of things I’d LIKE to do Read more »

Pretty much all day — I’ve been on an Obama high. Well, actually, that’s not accurate. I’ve been on an American high. Wicked proud of my country today. Wicked proud of the man who stood up there and addressed a nation in challenging, but inspiring terms. Just what we needed.

What I’ve been thinking about most since a bit past noon is this: what can I do? Obama can’t turn this country around — it’s me. It’s you. It’s us. What can we do? Read more »

Hey — did you know that there are less than six degrees separating me and our new U.S. President? Read more »

I couldn’t stay home tonight, on this last night of being Bush-wacked for eight long years, so I put on my Obama earrings and headed out on the town.

Can you see our President Elect dangling from my ear?

I was running around Sarasota like a crazy woman asking people to tell me how they felt about their last night of being Bush-wacked and/or what they were going to CHANGE as of tomorrow for the betterment of their country.

First stop: three slacker dudes outside Sarasota News & Books. Hey, guys, care to comment for my blog? “No.” Um, okay, moving on.

Second stop: inside Sarasota News & Books, where a charming young man named Joey was more inclined to comment: “It’s about time,” he said; and I couldn’t agree more.

Third stop: Selva Bar on Main Street. A bartender who wished to remain anonymous (first rule of bartending she said — never talk politics!) simply said “I’m stoked!”

Fourth stop: Whole Foods Market, where a very cute guy standing in line at the coffee/juice bar told me “It will be interesting to see what happens to the stock market.” He said a lot of other things, too, but if I print them, he’d have to kill me. Something about Witsec and all that.

And last stop, my new fave spot in downtown Sarasota (as in, I think I’m moving in!) — Sarasota Vineyards where I did find one person — who actually admitted to having voted for Bush and then compounded my horror when she told me she didn’t vote in the recent election because she, um, couldn’t choose between McCain and Obama. Yowza.

But I was greatly cheered when I arrived home and found that my cats were jammin’ on the Obama groove.

Okay, to end this overly long blog (is anybody still reading?), I’ll just say this:

I'm ready for change! Here's wishing us/US peace and prosperity!

Okay, I admit it. I officially cannot work because I’m too excited about tomorrow. I know, I know. The world isn’t going to magically right itself tomorrow just because Obama is sworn in as President. In fact, I think if change comes to this country, Obama will be our leader, yes, but not the doer. We’re the doers … right? You and me? We’re the ones who will change the course of ourselves and our neighbors and our nation … maybe even our world … right?

Last night, I kicked off my Inauguration Inebriation festivities (yes, yes, yes — I use any excuse to raise a glass and what better than seeing a man I believe in — within reason, folks — becoming my U.S. President?) with a FAB-U-LOUS party at Micheal’s on East. Read more »

What I want from you, Barack, as my president, is not so terribly different from what I’d want from any man, really.

I want a decent man. One who is measured and calm. One who can inspire and uplift. One who keeps his word.

A man who knows how to work up a sweat, shoot hoop and maybe even swish from the three-point line. Or at least one who doesn’t mind making a fool out of himself trying.

I want a man who helps me believe again. And then once I do – I want that man to give me reason to keep believing. Read more »

Last night I woke to the sound of someone in my yard. By the time I threw on some clothes and ran outside they were gone … but here’s what they left behind (and no McCain/Palin signs on my street — of which there are four — were touched):

Double click on image to read why Obama’s tax approach makes more sense for most Americans.

I don’t know how much longer Sarah Palin and John McCain will be able to keep spouting their obsessive, delusional, and purposefully misleading rhetoric about Obama, pals, and terrorists. I imagine they’ll muffle that message beginning yesterday, at least if they’re even slightly capable of thinking rationally at this point.

Listen to — or read — Colin Powell’s comments on Meet the Press yesterday and you’ll experience a refreshing intelligence, candor, and sensibility that is all but missing from much of the public Republican dogma these days.

Yesterday, I walked in a march, along with several thousand other people, in support of Obama. The only ugly moment occurred when a rabid-looking woman (seriously, her face was so contorted with rage) sporting McCain/Palin decals, leaned out of her car and with both hands (luckily she wasn’t driving) jabbed her middle fingers in and up and down motion at the crowd of Obama supporters. It lasted only a few seconds, really, at least at that juncture (she probably continued her behavior all the way down the road), but it exemplified for me the sad quality of character exhibited by so many Palin/McCain supporters — at least in public.