Friday, September 5, 2008

at least we raised over $40,000...

After spending the two nights of watching the Republicans belittle Barack and insult the intelligence of everyday Americans, my nerves were beyond bad. And while I know the most powerful thing I can give the good Senator is my vote, me and the crew plunked down our litte donation and headed to our very first group Obama fundraiser. And it was... interesting.
First of all, it took me about thirty minutes and four complete outfit changes to figure out what appropriate afterwork business attire looks like- Somehow, the sweat shorts and ripped tank top that normally wear aroud the crib seemed a little too casual. Go figure. Now keep in mind, there were two donor levels- either $25 or $100. Um, what you know about the a/c only working in the $100 donor's VIP room? By the time the speaker, Carla Harris (I've been told she's a prominent investment banker hit the stage), it looked like she'd just stepped out of a sauna. The sweat was just sliding down her face as she extolled everyone in the room to vote for Obama. Huh? I thought the reason we were there was because we had already decided to vote for Obama? Shouldn't she have been telling the suited up "I work in finance. Here's my card" masses to go out and find that pinktoe from Iowa that they went to business school with and convince them to vote for Obama? I'm just saying. But before I could really contemplate this discrepency, D-Nice jumped on the turntables and the whole thing turned into a Thursday night party at the Latin Quarters. Lord, give me the strength... Somehow, I don't think that getting your 2-step on is exactly part of the Obama/ Biden campagin strategy but you know how we do.
My mom insists that I get nervous too quickly and that I should have more faith. But I think that's easy for her to say... when things go sour and Sarah Palin is snatching books on evolution out public libraries nationwide (did you know that as a Mayor, Palin banned certain books from her town's library?)and forcing seventeen year olds to get married (did you see that poor boy's face?), Elsa can just bounce back to Panama. I on the other hand, don't speak a lick of Spanish or make enough moola to even move to a more gentrified part of Harlem let alone out of the country. So forgive me for feeling like I have more to lose when I hear John McCain's crazy can't remember how many houses he owns ass talking like the recession is something that I made up in my mind.