Democratic National Convention - August 24, 2008 to August 28, 2008

Let me begin with an apology for this taking so long, but as you are about to see, it was with good reason. It is a long tale of my time at the Democratic National Convention, but I hope that you will be able to relive all the excitement and experiences I had to a degree somewhat close to what I did. Enjoy!



To say that attending the Democratic National Convention in Denver this year was my way of partaking in a historic occasion does not do the experience I have even the slightest bit of the justice it deserves. My deciding to apply to a random email I had received for an internship for the DNC ended up being a life-changing experience…

It began in July when my director from the Social Justice Living Learning Community had sent me an email regarding an internship for the DNC with TIME Magazine. In the email, the internship coordinator had asked for political science and journalism majors to apply by sending in a resume to Alyson Mostel, the coordinator. I decided I would try for the internship and wrote a little cover letter commenting on how this particular election was not only important for the United States, but also key to the way in which the world would function from an international studies standpoint and my continuance of studying in that field.

Late July I received a phone call from Alyson, letting me know that TIME had chosen me to join their intern group for the DNC. She then told me the dates of the internship, which was August 24th to the 28th. This really was not a problem for me as I would not be working and just preparing for my departure to France, but it was cutting close to my actual departure date, thus taking away from the time I would have at home with the family. I told her I would love to partake in this opportunity and how excited I was to get to be involved in such a unique way with the convention.

Before I knew it, the end of August was upon me. The time truly did fly that second half of the month as I was in anticipation of the internship for the DNC and my leaving the country to live in France for nine months. That Sunday, August 24, I had a training session for the internship. It was held at Baur’s Restaurant off of 15th and Curtis, right down by the Convention Center and the Denver Center of Performing Arts in Denver. I met my supervisors for the week, a group of four people who were maybe 27 years old at the most, who were in charge of public relations for TIME Magazine for the DNC. We were to mainly work with Cub Barrett, our go-to-guy for the week, but we also worked with Betsy Burton, Daniel Kile, and Jennifer. The task at hand was simple, we were to don these blue t-shirts with clever little play on words for both the Obama campaign—“Change-we do that every minute”—and the McCain campaign—“Experience-we have that too”—and hand out cards with a speaker schedule on one side for that particular night’s events, as well as the directions for putting “The Page” onto a person’s BlackBerry mobile device.

“The Page” is an up-to-the-minute news source that all political junkies need. You can access it online at http://thepage.time.com/ or from your mobile device to get the most up to date information happening with the campaigns and all things political. It was created by Mark Halperin as the answer to what news and media sources were not doing. Sure you can have internet sites and written publications and all that, but to have the capability of making a “page cast” on the site of a political event just by having your laptop handy, puts TIME and “The Page” truly at the forefront for reporting the news. (How’s that for a spiel… ha ha ha)

Every day they were to provide us with gift cards to local restaurants for lunch, as well as water bottles and anything else we might need. My friend Alicia Guber, a fellow International Studies Major who I have had a few classes with, and I were paired together to pass out the cards. On the first day, we were dispatched to the Monaco Hotel. Not exactly the most happening of spots, but one of the editors of TIME was staying there, so naturally there had to be some sort of TIME representation outside the hotel. People were either really receptive of the card with the pertinent information and the ability to upload the application onto their mobile device, or they were in such a rush to get to wherever it was that they were going you could not even greet them with a good morning. We had a few people who were avid “Page” followers and were absolutely ecstatic that they found such a treasure that particular morning.

After about an hour at that spot, Alicia and I decided we were going to wander up and down the 16th Street Mall area to pass out the cards as there were tons of people gathering at different restaurants and what not for all sorts of events. As we were walking, we noticed a rather large crowd of people standing around one particular street corner. Alicia and I saw this as the opportunity for passing out cards and doing our job for the day. Shortly after arriving in the area, police appeared and were trying to get people to clear a path. They had their batons out and were creating a sort of fence to prevent us in the crowd from going into this particular path area. Next came sirens and a police escort of at least four police cars and three Chevy Tahoe Hybrid vehicles in black with dark shaded windows. I could hear the buzz from the people around me trying to figure out who it was that needed a police cleared path as well as escort. Turns out the celebrity was none other than Joe Biden, Obama’s Vice President candidate.

It seemed that the minute he had stepped out of his car, there was a cute kid in his arms (the classic politician kissing the baby sort of moment) and he was shaking hands and what not. When he got to the path, we was greeting all sorts of people and joking around with the little old ladies. It seemed too perfect to see such politician-like behavior playing out in front of me. He is truly a politician by all meanings of the word, except I suppose there is a negative connotation in that he might be deceitful and such, as to this I do not know, to say the least he fit the mold I had imagined. Joe was there to pick up an order of ribs from a little rib shack for him and his minions for lunch that day. I later found out from my dear friend Jason (an avid political campaigner and supporter who is very in the know for all things political) that I was in the location of the first public sighting of Biden since he had been announced as the VP candidate. It’s nice to know I partook in a little piece of history, I guess you could say.

Once Biden continued on his way, Alicia and I did as well and we headed to the other end of the 16th Street Mall. Along the way we saw another crowd, but the mood of this crowd was that of excitement and a bit of tension. We soon were forced into yet another police blockade but this time it was for a demonstration being put on by right-wing Christian extremists. I was absolutely ecstatic because I have never seen a First Amendment right in action like this before in my life! They were holding big signs that said, “Ask me why you deserve hell” and another that listed tons of things such as “Mormons, liberal women, terrorists, homosexuals, feminists, etc.” and at the bottom it said, “God can still save you.” It was very interesting to see not only the people advocating such positions, but how others responded. Even more fascinating to me was the way in which the police were not there to contain the masses so much as protect the protestors. Alicia and I also heard there was to be a rally at the U.S. Mint later that day, but we never heard anything more of it after that moment.

On the second day, Tuesday, August 26, 2008, I rose nice and early to make sure I could make it easily to the Barnes and Noble we were meeting in front of each day. The night before, I had stayed with my friend Rachelle at her apartment off of 20th and Pearl (which is a beautiful area by the way), and was not sure how long it would take me to get downtown on foot, as well I am not the best at navigating Denver just yet. I got there in an ample amount of time and was dispatched with Alicia this time to the Hyatt Regency right next to the Convention Center, where a ton of people were staying. We handed out over a hundred cards each, easily, within less than an hour. Seeing as we had completed our duty for the day, we called Cub and he said we could head over to Baur’s restaurant (which was serving as a sort of TIME headquarters outside of the Pepsi Center media area), and we could see if there were more cards to grab or potentially other tasks for us to do.

When we arrived at the restaurant, Jennifer grabbed Alicia and I and asked us to help her usher people into the Venetian Room of the restaurant where the next TIME event was being held. As we were asking people to kindly find their seats, I overheard a group of four men and two women speaking in French. Naturally I was drawn to this group and stood offset of it listening to them and trying to catch as much of the French as I could. Surprisingly I knew more than I thought I did, but did not want to bother the group, as they seemed to be discussing something of important matter. Eventually everyone was inside the room and the event began, one where there was a panel of four political big wigs speaking (the only one I remember was major of San Francisco, Gavin Newsom). Alicia seemed to know the others names, as she is more politically savvy than I am evidently, and was very excited that her mayor was there speaking (a political crush of hers she told me later ha ha). Not to forget to mention that Oprah’s best friend, Gale, was there at the event as well as a spectator. I asked Jennifer who the French-speaking people were, and she told me they were here from the French Embassy. I was thinking, oh, but of course… and she said it in such a nonchalant was too as if she interacted with diplomats on a daily basis or she did not understand the significance this had for me not only as a person about to embark upon living in France, but also as an International Studies student who strives to become a diplomat herself one day. So I decided right then and there that when the diplomats came out of the event, I would ask if they wanted a TIME gift bag in French, another task we were to do for that particular event.

So I looked up the word for size on my friend’s phone because I could not remember it, and I prepared myself for any conversation that might ensue past, excusez-moi monsier/madame, est-ce que vous aimez un sac a cadeau? (For those who do not understand French, excuse me sir or ma’am, would you like a gift bag?) One of the diplomats cut out of the event early, but was on the phone so I could not interrupt him. I waited patiently and then finally we made eye contact and I went in for the kill. I asked him if he wanted a gift bag and he said yes and then continued to comment on how I knew French and asked me why I knew the language. This turned into a little conversation about my going to study in Besançon, France for the next school year. He, Antoine Michon, told me that he would love to introduce me to his “friends.” (I put friends in quotes for a bit of dramatic effect for the upcoming part…)

The event finished and all the people exited the room. Gift bags were passed out while I was being introduced to Antoine’s friends, Olivier Piton, Pauline Peretz, David and Karyn, and the Ambassador himself, Pierre Viemont. I was absolutely flabbergasted, and could not continue speaking in French due to my being flustered and ecstatic over the entire situation! Olivier and Antoine seemed to take the most interest with me, so naturally I hit if off with them and continued talking to them for about half an hour. Olivier asked me what it was that I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I told him that I wanted to become an international lawyer and work for the United Nations one day in an area of French speaking Africa, hence my going to France to learn the language. He then informed me of his being an attorney at law in Paris and how he wanted to open up a law firm in Washington D.C. that would do consultation work between American and French companies dealing with a variety of different subjects. I commenced telling him that I was going to go to France for the year, return to the states, finish my last year of undergraduate school at the University of Denver where I can graduate a quarter early, and then I was going to take that spring quarter to take an LSAT prep course so that I could take the LSAT that next fall. I would be taking a year off then between graduating from DU and embarking upon law school and I put in the bait for my wanting to work at a law firm to make sure that law school was right for me during this year off. Like expected, he took the bait and told me I should come work for him in D.C. Talk about getting the foot in the door and how much impact a first impression can have. He then jokingly would tell the other diplomats how I was going to be his employee and even hugged me three times throughout the rest of our conversation (an act I did not think many French people did).

Olivier and Antoine gave me their contact information so that I could aid them as they were trying to navigate Denver, as well in case if I ever needed them. Olivier would joke about how the people in Besançon would be mean to me and that they would make me cry, so I could call him anytime and he would make it better. They also warned me to not pick up the evidently thick French accent the people in this region have, as I would not be good at French. I think they were only mildly kidding about this. And they warned me of the weather. That it would rain beaucoup beaucoup beaucoup and would snow in the winter. I do not have a problem with the snow being from Colorado and all, I informed them, but also being from Colorado, so much rain would not suffice for me. They then inquired as to whether or not I could tell them of the hot spots in the nighttime for bars and music joints. I told them I could not help here as I am not old enough to drink, and Antoine asked me if I had a fake ID, I told him no but that he could get me one if he wanted as he has diplomatic immunity. We joked then that I would accompany them as their translator, because if I did not go into the bar, they would not make any money! Finally, they had to depart in order to get credentials for that night’s events at the Pepsi Center. They gave me kisses on the cheek goodbye and took off for the day. (Side note: credentials are the passes to get into the Pepsi Center and Invesco Field in order to hear the speeches that were broadcasted on television. They were not easy to come by as the DNC was being rather stingy with them.)

Like all the other times when I am extremely happy, I cried. And then I called my Mommy. J Alicia could not believe the luck I had by connecting with these diplomats so quickly and nicely. Nor could I. They said they would contact me later so that I could visit with them again.

Alicia had to leave a bit early that day for some family obligations, so I walked with her over to the lightrail station by the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. I decided that I was going to go see what was happening over in that area, as well as sit down for a bit as I had been on my feet all day in that hot weather. I saw a spot on some stairs kind of off to the side, but still a good people watching spot, and decided it was going to be a good one for me. There was a gentleman sitting on the steps as well. I told him he had a good spot and he made a comment about being out of the sun but still getting a nice breeze. I sat down and we struck up conversation—a conversation that would last for about an hour and a half. His name was Richard Bonsignore and his wife, Theresa, was a part of the Clinton Administration. She served in the State Department as the woman whose job was to increase the involvement of women in international affairs. Talk about a woman after my own heart! As we would talk about him and his wife’s service in the Foreign Service and their moving around as their two sons (who were conveniently around my age) were growing up, he would stop and say, “See this man walking towards us on the right in the gray suit, that’s the Ambassador from Panama, he is such a nice guy. Actually, he is my friend, I should say hello.” Then he would go and say hello or sometimes he would bring the person over to meet me as well. I ended up meeting around four ambassadors and some other important political people in that one conversation.

We exchanged contact information as well, and he gave me his business card for the law firm Meyer & Brown that he works for. It just also happen to be that his law firm, based out of Washington D.C. was ranked number one internationally for something that I cannot remember… I was absolutely amazed at how I strike up conversation with an absolute stranger and he turns out to be this great connection for me. We continued talking and he said that he wanted to introduce me to his wife who was currently in the meeting for the Women’s Caucus. She also was one of the higher-ups for the National Democratic Institute, which is the institution that invites all the foreign governments and their diplomats to the convention. He was telling me how Theresa and him went to Hillary Clinton’s 50th birthday bash at the White House and the one thing he cannot stand about the Clintons is how they are late for everything. Ha ha ha Also, that his wife is good friends with Madeline Albright (one of my political crushes and currently one of my top female heroes). Theresa finally came to where we were at, and I was able to meet her for a brief moment before she had to whisk herself and Richard off to another event for the day. He told me he would email me and that we could try and meet up again before the convention was over.

The next day, was seemingly a day like all the others. I woke up to an email from Antoine asking me to see if the French Embassy had been put on the list for the TIME event that was going on today. Great, I am supposed to know who to contact for such a thing when I, myself, am TIME scum. I was thinking to myself, all I do is hand out cards all day and they want me to make sure they are going to get in for a closed event? Luckily, the people I was working under, my supervisors, were the ones in charge of RSVPing… So I emailed them to see if they had the French diplomats on the list.

Meanwhile, Alicia and I were stationed by the Hyatt Regency again and we decided that today we would go into the Convention Center, as that is where all the different caucuses were being held for the day. It was open to the public and rather simple to get into as far as hot spots for political action goes. We passed out all of our cards and then walked around a bit to see what could be seen. The official DNC gift shop was located inside, as well as a table selling books for authors who were there for book signings. At this point, Alicia and I had decided that we just happened to always be in the right place at the right time. Turns out we were right yet again. That day, Nancy Pelosi, and her daughter Christine, were going to be signing books. As well a woman by the name of Madeline Kunin, who wrote the book, Power, Politics and Pearls, would be signing the same day. We each bought a copy of Madeline’s book and Nancy’s and sat down at this little café inside the Convention Center to read them to pass the time. Both of us chose to read Nancy’s book, Know Your Power: A Message to America’s Daughters, first, and it was a delightfully good read! (I am still working on it but am almost done. It’s amazing what this woman has accomplished and how she chose to go about doing so.)

Finally, the time came for the book signings. We had Madeline sign our books and then hopped in as the first in line for Nancy. I think we stood there for about forty minutes until a buzz started up again, as if everyone knew that someone special was coming that way. We met her person in charge of her domestic travels who gets to accompany her everywhere she goes, Dan (I think his name was), and he was asking us about how long we had been in line and what not. I remember Alicia asking him how he liked working for Nancy, as if we were on a first name basis with this super woman, and later laughed at how nonchalant we were. He said he loved it and that it was really rewarding. I remember when I first saw her. She was holding the hands of two of her grandchildren and being escorted by policemen. She was absolutely beautiful and stunning, her presence demanded everyone’s attention. Sitting down at the table, she looked at us and made a comment about how she wanted to get things going so she could get to all the people. I was first, and I was nervous. At first I just said hello and thanked her for being such an inspiration to all young women, and then she asked for my name to make my signing a little more personal. I thought I had died and gone to heaven after those few brief seconds in her presence. Alicia and I could not wipe the smiles off of our faces afterwards all the way through our lunch.

I finally was able to get someone at TIME to respond back to me that the French Embassy was on the RSVP list for the event. I emailed Antoine during our lunch and told him that they were all good to go and just had to show up to the restaurant. He responded with a thank you for helping them out and ended the email with a “we will see you soon.” Shit, I thought (pardon my French ha ha ha), they are expecting me, TIME scum, to be at this event. At this time, it was about 12:30. Alicia had to go back home early again and I had to buy a dress to look presentable to my future employer and contacts. So off to Ross it was where I lucked out on this great dress. I called Rachelle around 1:00 pm and she came and picked me up from the 16th Street Mall area, took me to her apartment so I could freshen up real quick, then drove me to the restaurant all by about 2:05 pm. Just five minutes after the event had started. Turns out the RSVP event was with David Plouffe, Obama’s campaign manager, and the TIME PR people needed help guarding doors to make sure no one was slipping in to this exclusive event. So outside I stood waiting for my French Diplomats. They smiled at me from time to time, so I knew that they knew I was there.

Afterwards, we stood around chatting yet again (this time I met a member of French President Sarkozy’s cabinet, Laurent Wauquiez) before the group had to split up to find credentials for that night. Antoine needed help navigating to the Grand Hyatt, so I took him there. Along the way we chatted some in French about this and that, which was great for me seeing as I was going to be leaving for France very soon. At the Grand Hyatt, we were able to get the credential; as well I was able to meet his German counterpart from the German Embassy to the United States. Antoine’s job is to inform the ambassador as well as the French government of the political happenings within the United States. How sweet of a job is that? I had not realized that being on an ambassador’s council could have great potential as a future job until that point. I took him back to where we were to meet up with the other people before they all went into the Pepsi Center. As we were walking, I got to hold onto the ambassador’s credentials for all of the NDI events. Within it was a schedule of the events for the week being sponsored by NDI. I took a gander at it and saw for Thursday; there was a forum on what the world would look like with an Obama presidency. I thought to myself, how cool would it be to attend forums on topics such as that? We got to the meeting spot and I said my goodbyes as the French Diplomats headed on over to the Pepsi Center for the night.

The last day of the convention, I did not even bother putting on my TIME t-shirt, as I felt that it would be a better choice for me to dress up again. Cub had sent an email out to all of us interns thanking us for our hard work, as well as stating that coming to pass out cards was not obligatory that day, but that they would love all the help they could get. So my dress it was, with my hair and makeup done nicely as well. I went to the Barnes and Noble to help at the beginning part of the day. Cub had me pass out stacks to the information desks at all the major hotels, as well as hand them out along the way. As I was leaving our meeting spot, I was handing out cards to all who passed by, and one group of people who I approached was at first not interested. Then I heard this distinct female voice that I recognized asking me a question as to what it was that I was passing out, saw the sunglasses and red hair, and I realized I has passed a card to Susan Surandon!

That morning I had also sent an email to Antoine asking him as to whether or not he was planning on attending the NDI event for what the world would look like with an Obama presidency. I also corresponded with Richard to see if maybe he were going because he would definitely know the way to get me in, as his wife is an active member in the institute. Richard responded stating that he could not help me that day because him and Theresa would be at another meeting and not in the vicinity. He suggested that I try and see if my French diplomats could get me in. (ha ha) Finally Antoine responded and said that he had the Ambassador’s credentials for NDI and would indeed help me to get into the forum. So I went to wait to meet up with them at over in the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. I was not sure as to which building to go into, so I saw a man standing in a business suit with an NDI credential pass and asked him. I told him that I was the assistant to Ambassador Vimont and I was to be meeting him and his council here for the next event. He guided me in the direction I needed to go. I was waiting around for about half an hour, and the same man came up to me. This time he insisted on knowing more about my job and how I went about getting such a job. I told him that I had studied in France for many years, and was fluent in both English and French, so I often translated items for the Ambassador and his council when they so needed. (ha ha) My moment to really pull off my skills at creating false stories of my life came next when he told me he was not able to make it to the end of the year party at the embassy this year and asked me what I had thought of it. I told him that I didn’t go… “You didn’t go?!?” he said. Yes I was unable to go… for reasons I didn’t seem to know at the time. (ha ha ha) He seemed to believe me for the most part, and left me alone after that.

The group finally showed up and there was a nametag waiting for me at the check-in table! The best part of it all, however, is that it said Mlle, which is Madamemoiselle in French! So I marched right on into the international forum with my head held nice and high; I mean I am the assistant to the ambassador after all ;) We entered the room after it had already begun, and found some seats near the top of the amphitheatre-type room. It was a panel composed of Susan Rice (a foreign policy expert), Tony Lake (National Security Advisor from 1992 to 1996, and now a professor at Georgetown), Congressman Smith, Richard Dansik (Former Secretary of Navy), and Mr. Greg (Bill Clinton’s Lawyer). The forum titled: “Building a Better, Safer World: What Would An Obama Presidency Do?” covered the topics of common security, supplementing the United Nations, strengthening democracy throughout the world, Iran, Pakistan, and the Russia-Georgia conflict. As I was sitting there listening to these people talk and answer the questions from the panel proctor, I came to the realization that I was sitting in a room with all the international leaders that I love and adore, and can only hope to become like one day! It was ambassadors, council members, parliamentary members, and other governmental officials from literally all over the world. Besides actually sitting in on a General Assembly meeting at the actual United Nations, this was the closest I could get to international government heaven.

When they had finished with their panel discussion, the audience was able to ask some questions as well. I thought the experience could not get any better, but I was wrong. I heard a woman from the South African parliament stand up and ask a question, as well as one from the Afghanistan parliament. These are the women I study all the time and think to myself how cool it is that they are making changes in their society, but to actually see and hear them voice their concerns in such a forum is an experience I will never forget. I also heard someone from Canada’s government voice an opinion, which was really neat purely because it’s Canada, a country that I seemingly think does nothing. (ha ha)

Afterwards, as everyone exited the amphitheatre, I met more ambassadors and other international big wigs, who I could not remember their names if I tried. I was also able to pick up some reading material on the NDI and the forum that I heard that day. The boys wanted to get some breakfast and coffee, so we went to this little café by the DCPA and they were kind enough to buy me some tchai tea. While sitting there chatting about how they were to go to the Governor’s mansion for the day, as well as track down more credentials, they said I could tag along up until I could not get into any events because I was not on any RSVP lists.

Once again I was their navigation device for tracking down a credential for the speeches that night. Keep in mind the speeches that night, that wonderful Thursday in August, was Barack Obama’s acceptance speech as the Democratic Nominee for the presidential candidacy. We were in their car at the time and they started driving off to another part of the downtown area. I wasn’t exactly sure where to and then Olivier told me that he was going to work for me that day. I asked him what he meant by that and he said he would tell me after. I asked him after what, and he would just reply after. This is when I had my funny French trying to speak English moment. I was asking Olivier and Antoine about being diplomats and having diplomatic immunity and Olivier told me that it meant no one could “harm” (said like arm) him and that no one could “eat” him. This last one confused me, and he said you know “eat me” like (and then he made a punching motion.). In the French language they do not have the hard ehh sound like in the words “it” and “hit,” which Olivier was trying to say. I laughed for a solid five minutes straight because the thought of there being a diplomatic immunity rule stating no one could eat a diplomat was just too much for me to handle.

Not long after we arrived at our destination, the Governor’s Mansion. Now up to this point, it was my understanding that there was no way that I would be able to get into this event because it was very tight on the RSVP thing. The plan was for me to play the French diplomat part. Olivier told me to only speak in French and let him and Antoine do all the other talking. So I played dumb, French-style, and walked up to the gate of the mansion, the boys found their names on the list and just kind of pushed me through the gate. I had made it that far. Then they found their nametags on a table, but since I had none, the lady working the table told me to write my name and information down on this sign-in sheet. So I wrote Cassandra Wich and my email, left the phone number spot blank, and then it asked for company or organization I was with. Without really thinking twice, I wrote “French Embassy.” She handed me my nametag and I was in the Governor’s Mansion.

I have never felt so underdressed in my life. Imagine if I would have been in my jeans and TIME t-shirt! There were people in beautiful black suits and nice dresses and dress suits. Antoine got me a glass of white wine, and I sat there drinking white wine with other governmental big wigs while different senators and house of representative members, as well as governors who stood up and spoke as supporters to Obama and wanting a change from the current administration. I was standing around listening to the speeches and realized I needed to use the restroom. I could not find any of the servers in their white shirts carrying silver platters, so I decided to be a little ballsy and ask the governor’s son, Abraham Ritter, (I only knew it was him because of his nametag) where I could find the restroom. He told me where it was and then started to strike up a conversation with me but I had to pee, so finally realizing that’s what I was set out to do, he let me go and told me to come back to talk more later.

While waiting to use the bathroom, a lady complimented me on my twenty dollar Ross dress. I was happy with myself. (ha ha ha) After doing my thing, I met up with the “French Team” again, as we had started calling ourselves, and the boys told me it was time to leave. So I found Abe and told him goodbye and we promised to be Facebook friends, then I departed the Governor’s Mansion…

Next on our list was trying to get more credentials. I had been emailing with Richard throughout the day as well, as he was trying to get me credentials to get into Invesco Field to hear Obama speak. Prior to the actual DNC, my wants for Thursday was to leave Denver as soon as I could to fight traffic and make it to Randy’s football game that was in the northern part of Denver that day. I wanted to spend as much time with my family as I could before heading out to France. Then I met the French diplomats and Richard, and it all changed.

Olivier kept repeating how they were working for me today, so I decided to play along a little more and told them how excited I was to be an ambassador with them as my employees. Then I realized they were trying to get me a credential to see Obama speak that night. I could not believe what was ensuing… they were going to get me in to one of the most exciting things to happen to Colorado and Democrats everywhere for a long time! It must also be considered that if an ambassador is trying to get credentials, there are not going to be some crappy seats up in the boonies, they are going to be legitimate seats, with a real view of all the action.

Turns out my wildest dreams came true. Antoine and Olivier were able to track down a Floor Pass for me. A Floor Pass means that I had access to the floor, the GROUND, of Invesco where all the Delegates and other sorts of people had access as well. I could stand next to the stage, or with Colorado and cheer on our future president… It was like a dream…

So off to Invesco it was. We took one of those bicycle taxis to the bus loading area for our credentials. Talk about a funny experience. Because I have a large ass, I had to sit on one thigh of each of the diplomats. See the picture that follows. It was hilarious and something I will never forget as long as I live. We made it to the buses, and boarded ours for the elite transportation to Invesco. Once we arrived at the stadium, we were able to cut through the security line and head towards the stadium. There was so much excitement and anticipation in the air I thought I had died and gone to heaven again! (This moment did not top the international forum retrospectively, however.)

For the first part, I walked around on the floor just checking out the sights and listening to the different speakers as they were getting everyone pumped up for that night’s line-up of speakers and most importantly Barack Obama! I saw Jill Petrie from Rocky Mountain High School down on the floor. She was one of 5 Colorado students who received a press pass to cover the week’s events. She had heard about my adventures from the week through DeMaret and other mutual friends we have, so she asked me if I could get her an interview with one of the diplomats. I told her it was not a problem and found Antoine who said he would like to do it, but that no pictures could be taken because he was not dressed properly. (No longer in a shirt and tie, Antoine was sporting an Obama t-shirt that resembled ones I have seen of Che Guevara before, very artistic and nicely done if I may say so myself.)

Antoine commenced with the interview and I continued to take in the sights. Once he had finished, there was a bit of a bustle of people around these two lads. We walked over there, but neither of us knew who the guy was that was causing the interest. He did have on some sweet shoes, however, with Obama’s face on them. Turns out the two men were from the band Black Eyed Peas, and later they sat about five rows behind where we were sitting on the first level of seats. Antoine and I decided we would go get our souvenirs at this time as well, so up to the main level it was to buy pins and t-shirts and other fun things of the sort. We took the stuff back to the seats where Olivier was waiting, and I stayed up with him sitting down while Antoine embarked upon the floor again.

As Olivier and I were sitting there, I was able to ask him many different questions about France, the country I was soon to inhabit, as well as questions about his job and French policies concerning different matters. As the sun was setting and it started to get a little cooler outside, the anticipation and magic began to grow. There was a whole gaggle of phenomenal speakers that night—Susan Eisenhower, Al Gore, Bill Richardson, Martin Luther King III, Howard Dean, Diana DeGette (who I have met before thanks to Jason Griffith), Bill Ritter, and last but not least, Barack Obama. Every speech was amazing, leading to even more greatness as the time ticked by. (If you want to read their speeches because you unfortunately did not watch the evening, I have found a link to do so : http://www.demconvention.com/thursday-speeches/page/0)

Finally, it was around 8:00 pm, which meant go time for Obama. The crowd was going absolutely wild. American flags were waving everywhere, and people were stomping their feet so hard in the stadium I thought my bladder would vibrate out my throat. (Sorry for the awkward visual ha ha) For the first time, I felt patriotism. For the first time, I saw democracy and civil obedience playing out in front of my eyes.

Then he spoke. Obama gave a speech that, to this day, makes my skin crawl with goose bumps of excitement and wonder. He would bring up key points in what he would like to do or change as president, and with all the major points, such as immigration, energy dependency, the economy, et cetera, I would ask Olivier what France’s viewpoints were not only on what America should do for those points, but what they themselves advocate in their country. It was absolutely fascinating to hear the words from the mouth of the man who could very well be our president some day, all the while hearing what other nations have to say and think about the choices we make as Americans. He ended his speech, tragically, and fireworks went off, as well as cannons of confetti shot everywhere, raining down red, white and blue paper all over everyone.

Amidst the confetti, fireworks, screams of happiness, flags, and Change posters, I came to a realization—for the first time, in my life, I was proud to be an American.

Now do not get me wrong here. I am glad that I was born in the United States because it will afford me opportunities as a woman that many women will never see and can only dream of—like being able to write this to all of you from France and to have gone to the DNC in the first place. Even though that is the case, I cannot help but question some of the choices and decisions our country makes when choosing leaders and how that affects the rest of the world. At this moment though, I felt like we, as Americans, could make a change. We could choose our future by choosing the president we feel can and will lead our country the best way that it can possibly be lead.

After we had left the stadium and all its craziness (and I was able to stop and chat with Mickey and Steven), we were all starving and the boys asked me where I thought the best food was. Having seen a PF Chang’s along the way, I suggested that. None of the French team had eaten there before, so it worked out nicely. (I also got Olivier and Antoine to try a Fat Tire beer, a beer from my town ha ha) Everyone loved the food, proving my worth as a guide to Denver, and as an assistant. Then we went to a jazz bar and sat around and talked about the speeches and all that had happened that week. Finally, 2:00 am came along, and we were kicked out of the bar. They drove me to my truck, and then we parted ways. Had it not been 3:00 am in the morning, I probably would have cried, but composed myself as I began my drive home, ending my wonderful and rewarding experience at my first ever Democratic National Convention…