Extending open hands to unclenched fists...

It's 6 am Tuesday morning and my party and I are bundled and ready to face the biting cold of January in Virginia. We're preparing ourselves for a historical day and I'm not fully aware of the magnitude of what I'm about to experience.

We shrink from the cold the moment we step outside, pulling on hats and tugging up zippers to deny to even the slightest hint of cold into our layers. It's still dark but we slide into our blue Chev Malibu rental car and shiver as we settle onto cold leather seats filled with hope for a sunny day; a new day.

The toll road (which is notably newer, smoother and more well-maintained than those in LA!) is empty and though we've gotten a late start, we're encouraged by the seemingly abandoned road. We head to the metro and a quiet morning ride gives us time to wake up and summon our energy for the day.

We get our first taste of "traffic" (which is really pretty cute compared to the jams in LA) as we pull into the parking lot of the metro station. Though the line is long, things go smoothly and we find our spot on Level 3 A.

The cold jumps on us as soon as we step out of the car (you'd think a Wisconsin girl would've anticipated it better, but it caught me off-guard too!)

I realize how intense the day is going to be when I walk into the train depot and it closely resembles a mosh pit at an MXPX concert, only without the thumping music and body surfing. It takes my friend Jana and I at least 45 minutes of waiting in line just to buy our tickets!

We join the mob on the platform and are disappointed when the next train that comes through is full. The next one doesn't look promising either, especially since my toes are starting to sting from inadequate footwear and I'm getting nervous about standing outside in 20 degrees for three hours with the seeming equivalent of wool socks and argyle slipper. As the train squeals to a stop we get bold and make room for ourselves in the middle.

We get stuck at the next station coutesy of technical difficulties on behalf of the train ahead of us and to be honest I'm relieved to have the chance to stay in the warm.

The passengers in the car with me aren't irritated or upset at the hold up. Rather there is an electric pulse of happiness and patience pumping through the train. Sure, we're tired and we're cold, but as many see it, Hope is going to be realized today.

"Please be patient, folks," the conductor chimes over the radio. "We all in this together," he says in loose paraphrase of our President-to-be. We all smile at the conductor's upbeat attitude and at our excitement for the day.

As our train approaches the capitol, the conductor keeps announcing stops that have been closed and it looks like we're going to embark upon a pilgrimage to get to our destination. He tells us that pretty much the only option is MacPherson station, so we hop off here and follow the crowd about a mile and a half to the National Mall.

The streets are closed off to traffic and are filled from sidewalk to sidewalk with people heading at varied paces to be part of Obama's "Welcome Wagon".

Tamaya, Ryan, Jana and I claim our spot on the brown grass in the shadow of the Washington Monument. We park ourselves here, anxiously awaiting the beginning of the ceremony, first because it's time for a change and secondly because we're cold and some of my fellow inaugural enthusiasts are worried about frost-bitten toes.

The same energy that pulsed through the train is flowing through this peaceful mob of parents with kids, college students, grandparents and teenagers, singles and couples of every racial background you can think of.

Those of us who can see what's happening on the screen (which occassionally include me) cheer and boo in chorus as favored (and not so favored) politicians and public figures make their entrances. I feel a little bad as G.W. enters to a chorus that didn't suggest a request for an encore presentation but was more enthusiastic and willing to contribute to the harmony of praise that rang through the crowd as Obama was projected on the screen.

I'm amazed as a field of 2 million + people becomes absolutely silent to watch their new president take his oath and as they wait like kids sitting under a Christmas tree to hear his first words as Commander in Chief. There are cheers of assent and hearty "Amens" shouted throughout the speech and I forget for a moment that I'm not at a prayer service but an inauguration.

I'm cold; the wind is sinking its teeth into my double-layered legs; the sun is playing a fickle game of hide-and-seek; my toes are stinging and my nose is numb. But I'm AT the INAUGURATION of the first BLACK PRESIDENT of the United States. And though I'll believe it fully when I see it, I believe it can - that it will - happen; that our country can be changed for the better.

I know it's probably going to take a bit of an overhaul of the way we live now, but I think that with the encouragement and example of a man who truly values hard work and preserverence it can happen. Obama appears to embody everything I personally have been seeking in a leader: honesty, work ethic, a down-to-earth demeanor, humility, trustworthiness, sincerity. I look at Obama, and feel like I know him - Like I could just walk up to the White House and say "Hey Barack, how's it goin?" and he would sit down and talk with me about what's up. I think that he will represent our country well and hope that he'll provide an example that my generation and the ones after me can look up to and model ourselves after.

The ceremony is over and it takes a good part of 2 hours for the National Mall to clear out. We are frozen - our feet are stiff and my legs don't want to move - but are warmed nonetheless.

We again take over the streets with our numbers and as we approach the metro stop at Foggy Bottom there are security guards breaking the crowd up and allowing only a certain number of people into the station. No one gets upset; no one pushes or swears. They just wait. When our group goes in, some people behind us start cheering "Oh-bah-mah! Oh-bah-mah!"

I'm a little shy in admitting it, but today, for the first time in a long time, I feel consciously proud to be an American.