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. Not my party, I mean, I didn’t throw it! — it was a private party thrown by some well-known Democrats in the area. They’d heard me speak about my book before (yea! somebody was listening!) and invited me because I’ve written about Barack so frequently … nice of them to include me, dontcha think?

My main man!

The pre-inauguration bash was a blast — a very fun band, open bar and kickin’ food. And, the people weren’t bad either.

Seriously, they were a hoot. Men nailing the Paso Doble; glamorous women wearing gorgeous red and colorful dresses and FM shoes. I looked a bit boring in my basic (what else?) black and didn’t dare dance, but I was wearing almost-knee-high leather boots — a la Condi Rice but not as lethal looking — doesn’t that count for something?

I met folks who’d flown down from Maryland just for the M on East party; a Paris/Jacksonville book publisher (didn’t know they made those!); hobnobbed with uber-chic Sarasota Democratic Club President Nancy Feehan; and broke my NY resolution by chowing down not one but two meatballs (was trying to avoid red meat for a few months), and drinking more than one glass of Merlot in an hour.

In between drinking and eating and general butterflying, I tried to flirt with the good-looking, well-dressed man in the corner by asking him what time it was, but I think he thought I was a special-needs guest as he kindly pointed toward the bathroom door and murmured something like “They let anybody in these things, nowadays, don’t they?” to the bartender. At least I think that’s what he said. Of course, I’m sure the watch on my wrist might have made him question my mental faculties, but still, he could have played along …. dontcha think?

And, what’s up with this dontcha think thing anyway? It’s irritating me, I can only imagine what it’s doing to the three people who read my posts!

Anyway, I blame it on the eve of inebriation.

More to come tonight and tomorrow as I traipse through parties and generally make a fool of myself.