One of my favorite bloggers, K, participated in a meme where she was asked 5 questions, and then she had to come up with 5 questions for 10 people (that’s 5 individual sets). Though I was not in her original 10, K did ask me to put my money where my mouth is on one particular issue… My undying love for Bill Clinton. While my love is undying, the whole sexual attraction part tends to ebb and flow like the tides, wax and wane like the moon, switch erratically like the traffic light outside my office. So, I figured the best way to answer her question was to mention some of the key points in this affair, and rate them like a traffic light–red (no freakin’ way), yellow (proceed with caution, but probably yeah), green (gentleman, start your engine!).

October/November 1992. I was just a high school sophomore, but my parents had me involved in politics from a very young age. Though I couldn’t vote, I helped post signs for Clinton and some of my local candidates. We had to do group work in Civics class around this time, and I remember my classmate D. Miller remarking that obviously Bush was the superior candidate and that he had to support his fellow beer-named person. Unfortunately, as a high-schooler, I was terrible at snappy comebacks, or I would have pointed out that he was an idiot and that Busch the beer was spelled differently. (Maybe it’s not that snappy anyway.) I was also completely enthralled with the soon-to-be President because he was a band geek like me, and ohmigosh, wasn’t that picture of him with JFK at Boys’ Nation just about the most adorable thing ever? However, at this point, I was a ridiculously virginal 15 year old, and though I had done my 9th grade research paper on the suspicious death of Marilyn Monroe (I was a very dramatic child), it never even occurred to me that the President of the United States would (gasp!) have an extramarital affair. (And anyway, I was thinking more along the lines of wanting to be the first daughter at this point…) Verdict: Red.

October/November 1996. The second election, and the first time I was able to vote in a Presidential election. Though I was still ridiculously virginal for a 19-year-old, I was fully aware of the charisma, charm, and power the man possessed. Verdict: Yellow.

September/October 1998. As a senior in college, I became completely obsessed with El Presidente. I read every sordid news story, and even the entire Starr Report when it came out. I remarked to anyone who would listen that, if offered the chance to hook up with the Leader of the Free World, I wouldn’t tell on him. And in October, I attended a career fair at Georgetown for government and non-profit jobs. I knew that representatives from the White House Intern Program would be there, so I got myself all cuted up, and tracked down the table. It was surrounded by twiggy girls in extremely short skirts. I knew I had no chance, and left dejected. (In retrospect, I was just as twiggy and was wearing a short skirt myself… I just hadn’t learned to use my boobs to get what I wanted yet.) Verdict: GREEN!

February 2003. Clinton is scheduled to speak as a part of a lecture series at UT-Austin. I knew one of the students who was on the committee to bring him to campus. At past lectures, she had been able to get special “VIP” tickets to the event, and people with those tickets would get to meet the speaker afterward. She was going to try to get those tickets for me and a few friends. The night before the tickets were to go on sale, she let us know that the demand was so high that she couldn’t get us tickets. We’d have to stand in line at the Union and get them ourselves. They started giving out tickets at 8 a.m., so we planned to get in line at 5 a.m. We figured we’d be ridiculously early, and the tickets were general admission anyway. The Union was three blocks from my apartment. We walked one block before we reached the line. By 4 a.m., the line wrapped around the corner in front of my building. By 7 a.m., the staff of the Union had arrived and determined that there were more people standing in the freezing cold than could ever get tickets. They went ahead and started distributing them, and we got all the way to the door of the union before we were turned away. Luckily, less than 24 hours later, the university announced that they were moving the appearance to a larger venue–the Frank Erwin Center, which is the UT basketball stadium. This time, we were in line at 4 a.m., and the line was again longer than the available tickets by 7 a.m., but this time, I emerged from the Union around 7:15 with two tickets in my hot little hands. At this point, I knew he’d be amazing. I knew he’d be charismatic. I just didn’t fully grasp what that meant. Even though I had to sit in the Upper Mezzanine, he made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I sat on the edge of my seat the entire time, leaning forward–every inch was an inch closer to him. I left that night completely energized, with a plan to go to his school in Little Rock when it opened (a plan I still toy with every time I get bored with my job), and only half-joking that we should go over to his hotel (the Four Seasons) and wander the halls until we found Secret Service guys. If someone had volunteered to go with me, this whole post might be moot. Verdict: Green.

September 2004. The news reports that Clinton will have heart surgery. I am saddened by the news, because it makes him seem feeble and frail. His age, for once, seems to matter. And I am kinda grossed out by the thought of an old man kicking the bucket in the middle of such an act. Verdict: Red.

September 2006. My boy gets all extra-pissed at Chris Wallace on Fox News. He’s so angry! So strong! So virile! He’s back! Verdict: Green.

I have quite a few friends who have worked in DC and met Mr. President, either during his term or after. They say that you cannot imagine the force of his personality. You are completely taken in, and you feel like the only person in the room. They say they can see themselves in Monica’s situation, and would be unable to resist his charm. These girls are much less, oh, let’s call it “antsy” than I am, so if they say they’d do the deed if given the chance, I have to say that for me, the Verdict: Green.

Mr. President, if you’re out there reading this, call me. Seriously.

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