Last night I attended a "girl's night" at an apartment with a few friends. I run daily in a social circle of men, I share a three bedroom apartment with two male roommates, and have mostly worked in an all male environment; it incites a special excitement for me when I get invited to conference with my fellow fairer sex members. Topics of conversation are usually: current employment woes, term paper writing grief (for those in schools like me), recent movies, desired haircuts or clothing, and of course: men.

Men as a topic take up a majority of the conversation in gathering like this. Between gushing over the sugary delights we had all brought to the soirée, we mostly discuss the males in our lives. But, this isn't a piece on the merits or the disadvantages of the inability of either sex to convene without discussing the opposite sex; this is a piece about sex – about a sexual fantasy. And when it was my turn to talk about the men in my life, my friend brought up, rather loudly, to all that I had recently had "a conniption over Obama on a magazine cover in [the grocery store]." My friend accused me of using my loins to vote, and even said she was put off by my lust over the democratic candidate that has enthralled much of a nation.

It's important to note here, that I am a United States citizen living in Canada.

Some of the girls felt the entirety of the U.S. was voting with their loins in a sense, and weren't surprised that I felt sexual attracted to him. There were comparisons to Kennedy and Clinton made.

The power figure that a president is, I argued, obviously attractive in itself, but for me it is something more. I have a crush on Barack Obama, to put it in its most base form. There are countless articles (like this: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/24/opinion/24fri1.html?_r=2&ref=opinion&oref=slogin&oref=slogin three pager from the NY Times)  that trumpet his ability to appear calm and collected - which is now being targeted as egotistical; he carries himself with what I can only describe as a shaman like authority through his composure and intellect. He appears to have the mental stamina to recall formulas, historical facts, statistics, policies AND opinions, all the while expressing them in such a logical and sincere delivery that I feel assured by him. The thought of his possible presidential decision making processes somehow mirroring the self control, poise and intelligence he can sustain while under scorching television lighting and oppressively sarcastic opponents - well, it just sets me off. A few glasses of wine later and I ended my speech to my friends saying: I just want to know if the rest of him is a big as his huge… brain.

So after I defended my love to these women – who were kind enough to indulge me and my political passions for just as long as any other woman at the party spoke about a "real" relationship – I sighed and enjoyed a brownie.

That night I dreamt that Barak Obama and I worked together in some capacity; that I had the opportunity to sleep with him. We went on a picnic at some point and we also hit up a nice deli on the way. What would Freud say about a food, sex, politics and infidelity in a dream? I won't go into details, as no self respecting girl should kiss and tell, but we did make-out a ton and I do remember getting to take off his tie at least. After that, like most dreams – it's a little fuzzy. But it felt just as good as I'm confident I'll feel when he's inaugurated.