Politics make me hot.

Anyone who's known me long enough knows I dig on politics. I get jazzed about the speeches, the debating, the ass kicking. Growing up, I never saw a campaign I didn't like. In the sixth grade, I ran as Michael Dukakis in our mock presidential debates. In our school wide vote, the Duke got his ass kicked. But not in the sixth grade. The Duke in '88, baby.

In high school, despite running for class and student body president every year (and getting repeatedly beaten by some drunken boy), I was voted "Most Likely to become President." How's that for irony? Apparently, my class felt that regular losses would better prepare me for a future in politics.

During the infamous election of 2000, I was on cruise ships, desperately clutching my donkey beanie baby a friend had sent me. Instead of socializing in the piano bar, I sat in front of the casino television... waiting up for hours. We all know how that ended.

4 years later, I told my then new husband that there was no way I could get it on after election night. We had spent hours in front of CNN. I just wasn't in the mood. Nothing's a cock block more than a Bush in office.

In my cancer journey, it was my first trip to the National Breast Cancer Coalition's Advocacy weekend in D.C. where I realized I could combine breast cancer AND politics. I came home so fired up I was burning.

This year, Alan knows that a broadcast debate means no cuddles on the couch, no "quality time." Quality time means debating the issues. Watching the pundits. Occasionally throwing something or yelling at the screen like it's the Super Bowl. Explaining to my fiscally conservative husband that yes, taxes are necessary. And if hates them so much, he can move back to England and pay even more.

So, when I heard that Bill "Slick Willy" Clinton was speaking only 45 minutes from my house, I had to go. Even if no one else could go with me. I drove by myself. I spent 20 minutes parking. I waited in line outside - in what could only be described as a New Kids on the Block concert circa 1989. (okay, so it could be described differently, but that's now how I saw it.) Seriously, SWARMS of people. A line around the building. I struggle to believe that Kennesaw State University ever had that kind of crowd for a basketball game.

I actually got a seat and waited for the former President to speak. And he did. He looked old. I wondered about that "charisma" everyone talks about. Then again, sitting behind a desk in the Oval office would make almost anyone hot. The best part of the evening? When he stopped for a beat and said,

"You know, it's easy to get distracted when you're President."

Snicker, snicker.

Bill spent a lot of time talking about health care. And the ideas made sense. Electronic records saving billions of dollars. Opening the congressional health plan to everyone. I liked that, too.

Above all, I got fired up. About the ability of people to make a difference. About "change"... or whatever that means. It made me want to run out and run for office myself. And when the rally was over, I talked to members of the Hillary staff. (A staff that did not email once during the next few days even after I volunteered to help... hmmm) I chatted as throngs of people waited for a quick word with Willie. Like he was a fucking rock star.

Cuz you know what? Even now, even a little too old, tired... Bill had something. I have had many conversations with my father about "poor Monica" and how she must have been taken advantage of. That's what he thought. Then I told him if the President gave me the opportunity to get on my knees in the Oval office, I'd be running under the desk so fast, Bill wouldn't have time to unzip his pants.

My father was mortified.

Tee hee.

What can I say? Politics get me hot.