Me @ 12:00
You get in with a media pass? Am on the fifth floor of the parking garage. I’m so not getting in. Sad.
Friend @ 12:01
It hasn’t started yet. Don’t get in line just walk with confidence up to the door and go in girl!!!
Me @ 12:02
No way. I couldn’t. Really? No.
Friend @ 12:03
That’s what I did. I went to the second door and just walked!!!
Me @ 12:08
Am going to try
Friend @ 12:08
Do it!
Me @ 12:11
Am in!
Friend @ 12:12
Sweet!
Me @ 12:16
Thanks for encouraging me. This is awesome!
Me @ 12:20
Hey. I got this pink wristband. Does that get me anywhere special?
Friend @ 12:21
You rock! It gets our on the floor! I am stage left.
Me @ 12:25
I’m now standing next to where he will walk out.
Friend @ 12:26
You should be a journalist.
Friend @ 12:27
I see you.
Me @ 12:32
This is crazy.
And it went a little somethin' like this:
Needless to say, I left being at the end of the line and dashed down five flights of stairs, walked past a cavalcade of cops on motorcycles (oops!), turned and went the other direction, and accidentally ended up at the media entrance. I walked up, threw my driver’s license on the table, said “Holly Jefferson from ________ News”. I won’t say which news, because I fibbed. Without even flipping through the several-inch-thick list of names, my right wrist was slapped with a pink wristband and I was in. After taking a seat for a few seconds in section 110, I learned I could be "on the floor" and was now standing next to senators, celebrities, city council members, sports heroes, radio personalities and more. I was two seats from where Obama made his entrance. I took lots of fuzzy pictures and got to shake his hand as he made his exit. Pretty crazy for someone that had been standing at the end of a thousands-plus line on the top of a parking garage an hour earlier. And totally, totally scary how easy it was.

(see me?)
Others photos. Media coverage.