Obama is my president

"I'm proud to call myself an American for the first time in my entire life. I'm so happy."

She had a British accent, but she was crying, laughing, on her toes through the entire speech. Her mom was American, she told me, but she'd always been ashamed to admit it until now.

When I'd arrived at East Slope bar at one (that's 8 p.m. EST), I waited for half an hour outside the door before I was even admitted - the bar was filled to capacity. An American exchange student from Philadelphia and I stood on our toes to glimpse the big screen: Pennsylvania predicted to go Obama. We screamed, then whined: "Americans should get in first!"

But we did get in, and state after state turned blue: Pennsylvania. New Hampshire. Ohio. New Mexico.

Then, at 4 a.m.:

California.
Washington.

And the banner: "OBAMA VOTED PRESIDENT." How did it happen so easily, so fast?

On the way home, I passed a group of people on my bike. "Obama!" one yelled. "HE'S MY PRESIDENT!" I screamed back, then laughed gleefully, listening to Paul Simon. I couldn't keep myself from yelling the news to people at the bus stops on the way home:

"Obama's the president!"