Week 4: Fingers Crossed for More Cake

A girl can dream, right?

Week 4. 3 down, 5 to go. Then, it's back to school.

Bleh. As fun as camp W&L is, the prospect of having to do something even moderately intellectually stimulating, there are a bazillion things I would rather do.

I wish I could say, and then, it's back to my 300-foot yacht in the meditteranean. Or, back to my private spa with hot rocks and Swedish masseuses with my name on them. Or, inevitably, BACK TO THE FUTURE!!!!!!!!

I should make like a tree and get out of here.

Yeah. Another exciting day at the office. The best thing is, I've been here for 4 hours already, and have done squat. Well, I actually went to the department meeting where I told everyone I was doing nothing, and allegedly there are things for me to do this week.

We'll see.

I spent this fine morning reading comics online, facebooking, and making designs using the chain I keep my secutiry badge on. It's actually quite entertaining.

The best one? A jellyfish. Awesome.

I Swear I Wasn't on Drugs...

I wasn't, but it would explain a lot...

Last night was probably one of the weirder nights in my whole life.

First of all, I decided to take a nap at 5 pm, and woke up at 6 o'clock this morning (thank GOD, sleeping through work would've been a bad idea).

Then, I had the trippiest dream known to man.

I found this book in Dad's room, a really old leather book with a gold clasp. I opened it up and it was one of those make-your-own adventure stories. You know, the if you turn left, go to page 42, right, page 66 type books?

I start doing it, and he runs in and yells, "We have to leave! Now!" He snatches the book out of my hands and drags me out of the house and starts running. We end up in some sort of field, and he explains to me that he's not really Tim Takach, he's some sort of weird Star Trek-y name that I don't remember and the TZT thing is his secret identity because he has to hide his real identity. (Turns out Mom was one too, and Mr. Censoni, oddly enough.)

Because of the book. And now that I found it and started to read, I have to go into hiding too.

It turns out that this book was REAL. It seemed like some lame fantasy, but if someone could get to the good ending (there was only one), then the world would be saved. If you got to a bad ending, then you died exactly how the person in the book died, by dragon, landslide, whatever.

And while you're reading the book, the stuff happens. Like, I started out in a cave, and as soon as I chose to go left, I was in the cave and had to live through whatever problems were in that side of the cave. In that particular example, it was a bunch of freaky bats.

BUT, there were other things that knew about the existance of the Book, and they were trying to kill those who were trying to save the world with it.

We had to fake my death to allow me to get on with my new life, and it was really sad to watch all my friends and family crying (I think I cried in my sleep, actually). And I must say, props to dream parents for being such good actors!

Now that I knew about the Book, I could turn invisible to people who didn't know anything, but for the helpers and bad guys, I was totally visible. These Shadow People were chasing me the whole time too, they were actually shadows, but they had faces... Don't ask me how that works.

Then I woke up.

Does anyone else think I need mental help?

Or to write a book about that?

A Three Hour Tour

Unfortunately not our tour guide.

And unfortunately not that type of tour.

First of all, it turned out to be a sushi restaurant yesterday. SO disappointing.

Today, in another time-wasting venture, the interns of EEI, Duke Energy, AEP, and some other place I don't remember the name of, took a guided tour of the House side of the Capitol.

And guess what? I got lost.

Twice.

The first time was getting to the right office. In the email I received, it said Myrick's office (D-NC), Cannon Room 205 at 9:20.


205 is some guy from California.


230 is Myrick, but when we go in there, the intern's like, "Well, she's not a Democrat, so I don't think this is it. Plus, our tour is at 9:30."

Me and some other EEI interns are now officially wandering around with no idea what to do, while trying to not look like terrorists looking for the best place to plant a bomb.

We're about to leave when we see this girl Hope from the intern lunch yesterday stroll through the security checkpoint, and it turns out we basically got all of the wrong information. We ARE supposed to be at the 9:30 tour, room 230, with the REPUBLICAN representative Myrick.

The intern looked at us like we were insane when we came back into the office five minutes later.

We go on the tour, which took FOREVER. The tour itself was probably about half an hour, tops, but we had to go through 2 different security checkpoints, and the lines were ridiculous. We saw the original center of DC, where Washington was meant to be buried (he didn't change his will in time so he's in Mt. Vernon), the Old Supreme Court room, the old House gallery and the plaques where John Adams and Abraham Lincoln sat, and finally we went into the House Gallery and looked at the surprisingly tiny room where they vote and hold the State of the Union.

We're on our way back to the office to disperse (since it's now NOON), when half of the group (my half, obviously) gets seperated. We're walking single file down a hallway meant for pre-McDonalds, fanny-packless statesmen and it is absurdly crowded. A massive group of tourists cuts into our line, and the tour guide is history. Four of us wander around trying to find her again, but it's hopeless.

And then I ran into Cara Sullivan from school, that was random. She's working as an intern on the Hill, and she was leading a tour. Small world, right?

We're still wandering when I stop and ask a security person, and they were looking at us like they were wondering where exactly we had hidden the bombs.

"No tour guide? Really?" Eyebrows went up. Great. The last thing I need is to be strip-searched in some back room at the Capitol. I'm really not trying to go to Guantanamo, I just want to eat my sandwich (Which was delicious, in case you were wondering. You can never go wrong with PB&J).

Finally we get sassed by enough guards and directed back to Cannon, and I don't get back to the office until 12:30. Excellent.

Raise your hand if you just got paid for that?

That's right. I did.

I Wish Someone Would Take This Away From Me

It physically hurts me to type "power lunch".

I think I am addicted to blogging. And post-it notes.

I guess there are worse things to be addicted to than adhesive yellow reminders, so whateva whateva whateva.

Today, there's an intern luncheon. I know what you're all thinking: "But you already HAD an intern lunch! What do you mean you're getting paid to eat AGAIN?", and I laugh at your logical minds. Corporate America does not abide by the rules of mere mortals.

But for once it seems my life is semi-awesome. *Knocks on wood*

*Realizes it's fake wood and frantically runs around office trying to find real wood*

It's actually a "Luncheon" (as opposed to the oh-so blue-collar "lunch"; we are young professionals in Washington, DC, by God, and we will be as pretentious as we are entitled to be) with interns from other offices in the area. It's being hosted by Duke and AEP, two of our member companies, so we'll get to meet interns from their offices as well.

I hope I don't like them. I don't want to have to go through the awkward sort-of-friends but-we're-leaving-for-school-in-a-few-weeks and the-grownups-make-us-hang-out thing. It's really not my scene.

I only wish the "Mexican" "food" in Lex looked so good.

But I'm always up for Mexican food. Unless it's Don Tequila's. Then I'm up for binging and purging. That was probably the worst "Mexican" "food" I've ever had the misfortune to ingest. Yes, both of those words absolutely need scare quotes of their own. The only "Mexican" thing about it was the queso-flavored sauce everything they served was drowning in, and as for the "food"... I'm gonna go with false advertising on that one.

You know why today is a great day?

I did something.

I scanned.

One page.

Look at me, earning my money!

Chop't and Other Assorted Adventures

The Cold Stone of salads. For Serious.

Julia and I met up after work last night to hang out and go to dinner. Sweet, right?

Well, she gets off of work like an hour and a half later than me (I start an hour and a half earlier; it's not like I'm a lazy bum), so I had some time to kill. Weird. Again, I had nothing to do.

Is anyone else starting to see a pattern?

I decide to walk to the White House, and since I'm ON Pennsylvania Ave, one would have thought that there would be no way I could get lost. Remember, folks: This is ME we're talking about.

The getting lost wasn't particularly memorable, other than the part where I ALMOST DIED.

I was on my phone, talking about something dumb, probably, while standing on a street corner with a katrillion tourists. Including a very confusing 8-year-old girl dressed head-to-toe in camo. I didn't even know that was possible. Anyways, the light was red, and the walk signal was that weird red hand thing, so I just kept standing and talking and trying not to stare at the baby Rambo right next to me.

I notice the light change, so I start walking across the street, still talking, and all these cars are turning right in front of me. I'm getting pissed, I mean HELLO?? Pedestrians' rights??

And then I look up to yell at the guy who was THIS CLOSE to me, and I realize that the light may have changed, but the walk signal didn't.

Whoops. The good news is that I didn't actually die. Phew!

I Deserve a Gold Medal in Boredom

I literally have nothing to do today. Nor did I yesterday. The day before, I typed 5 words on a typewriter(!), and made 60 copies.

The typewriter has definitely been the highlight of this week. It's an electronic one, so it had a QWERTY keyboard (as much as it pains me to say something as toolish as qwerty, that's what it's called) and backspace and font changing and whatnot, so the only typewriter-ish thing about it was that you have to stick in the paper and like roll it through.

Or something.

I struggled with that for a few minutes before I looked it up online.

Does anyone else think that's funny? I use the internet to figure out how to use something prehistoric? I do.

Speaking of ancient technology, last week Mike needed help on a PowerPoint presentation, and he asked if I was good. I told him about the lesson we took in 6th grade and the wonders of 7th grade Computer Tech class, and off we went down memory lane.

Apparently, when he was in 6th grade, he was learning to use a slide rule. A slide rule, for those of us born after 1800, is a thing people used to do math. It's not electronic! It has a sliding thing that somehow or another does math.

It sounds a little sketchy to me, but apparently that's how all math was done until like 1975. Allegedly, they managed to get to and from the moon several times using these little doo-hickeys.

I'm still skeptical.

They also reminisced about buying sweet Apple computers as big as a house for like a bajillion dollars and thinking they were the coolest, using RPN (Reverse Polish Notation-- I told you I have a lot of time on my hands) calculators to get through some sort of science grad school, etc etc etc.

I felt like a baby, and they made it perfectly clear that they felt archaic.

Which they are. A slide rule? Seriously?

Sad Day.

Buy two! Drink one now, save one for later!

The nearest Sonic is 61.25 miles away. This is really upsetting for me. How am I supposed to stop by for a Route 44 Cherry Limeade (or two)?! SO inconsiderate.

This has pretty much ruined my whole day. That, and the fact that I only have the tiniest something to do.

My project for Rick is almost complete; I've called every state that I think is cool/remember existed. The Dakotas, Montana, Colorado, Iowa, Kansas, Arkansas, and Texas were the last few. Please note: most of these states are square and somewhere in the middle of the country. Or Texas. You wonder why I called them last?

I also figured out how to change where a page break occurs on Excel. And alphabetize a rolodex.

Sometimes my life is so exciting I don't think I can handle it.

Satan's Carriage, 4:30 NY to DC

Me, except without hair.

If you thought the bus-scapades parts I&II, as well as the way up, were bad, you're in for a surprise.

The way down was literally the most miserable experience in my entire life.

Not only was I bummed to be leaving what's-his-name and go back to the daily grind, but the air conditioner was broken. And it was 98 degrees outside.

Luckily the driver left the roof hatches open, so we got a vague semblance of a breeze, but I have never sweated so much in my entire life. I made the mistake of leaning forward, and my back was completely soaked. Ew.

We've just dropped people off in Baltimore and are almost back when it starts raining. The entire bus gets SOAKED because there are giant HOLES in the roof, and we have to pull over so the driver can shut the hatches.

Great. Now there's no air. Literally. I start feeling light-headed and even hotter than ever. Thankfully someone convinces the bus driver it's better to for him to dry out the bus than explain why he let 30 people suffocate, and he opens them back up.

We get in to DC, then I take the metro back to MD, then Quin picks me up and by the time we get home it's like 11:30.

Oh, and we're going in to work the next day at 6 am. Awesome.

The ride for some reason or another took an hour longer than it was supposed to, and my butt was hurting the whole time (the Atlantic doesn't like me, remember?).

What is it With Me and Public Transportation?

So I forgot to write about this and can't figure out how to change the order of the posts so it's not exactly chronological. Sue me.


On the way to NY, I had relatively few problems. I actually managed to get on the bus that left an hour before mine and had no stops (mine was supposed to stop in Baltimore), so that was pretty baller.

But, because I was on the bus, there were problems.

Like the bathroom.

It was so stanky. It stank up the entire bus, and I felt like I was a Borrower that got stuck inside a Porta-Potty. Enough people finally complain to the driver and we pull into a CVS, where he gets Downy. Like, the fabric softener with the teddy bear that is simultaneously adorable and mega-creepy.

He pours the Downy down the toilet, and now the bus smells like a combination of spring fresh breeze laundry and poop. I am now inside a dirty diaper.

Traffic sucks, and the bus control panel starts making this AWFUL alarm noise, and this goes on for probably a good 45 minutes before the driver pulls over to figure it out. He doesn't tell anyone what's going on, so I'm convinced that it's a terrorist bomb and we're all about to die a very poopy death.

But apparently whatever the problem was got fixed because the beeping stopped, and we were on the road again. Get to NY with no other problems, and then I go into the train station.


I know the name of the station I'm supposed to get to, but that's it. I don't know what line it's on, or even what company goes there, and obviously I can't find any sort of help kiosk. I try one company, and there's no Metropark station. With some help, I get to the right one, and I'm like, "Oh! Northeastern Corridor to Trenton! That's the line I want!" So I buy my ticket, go to the platform, and get on the train. I sit down and settle in for my ride, and I'm just turning on my iPod when I hear the conductor announce that this train is a semi-express. Whatever that is. He THEN announces that the train will NOT be stopping at like, 3 places, and obviously one of them is Metropark.

Thank god we were still on the platform. I ran off, and went back upstairs to try and figure out what was going on. After some confusion and wandering around and running to the right platform, I make it, and get on board. Smooth sailing from then on. The return trip is obviously another saga entirely.

First Date, Finally

How do you say negligent in boy?

First dates are supposed to be a sort of try-out, and information gathering session... Can I stand being around you for more than 45 seconds at a party? Do you have the mental capacity to form complete sentences? Have you ever been introduced to my friend the napkin?

Unless you're me. Then, you'll be dating someone for a few months, somehow without ever managing to go on an actual date.

If you think about it, it's actually kind of an accomplishment. Props to Adam for not letting me catch on until now, and I guess props to me for not caring... Although probably no props because I didn't exactly notice...

Anyways, I got a gift certificate to Outback from work, as a sort of thanks-for-being-our-indentured-servcant-this-summer thing, and I was like wow, I'LL take ADAM on a date, instead of the other way around!

That's when I realized there had never, in fact, been an "other way around".

Regardless, the dinner was a great success (and yes, I thought that sentence in my head with a Borat accent), and using some sort of intuitive skill we managed to use all but like 76 cents of the card. Sweet!

Although someone now owes me a date. Or two. Or 4 months' worth.

Woot, Followed by Another Woot.

Da Shore. Allegedly a big deal.

This past weekend, I somehow managed to work up the courage to venture into the very heart of guido territory: The Jersey Shore.

Please note: It is not, for whatever reason, called the beach. It's The Shore. Apparently there's a difference.

I have never seen more wifebeaters, chin-strap beard things, or hair gel in my entire life. There were tribal armband tattoos everywhere you looked, as well as poorly planned stomach tattoos just waiting to be stretched into oblivion by the impending arrival of a beer belly. Gold chains, CAW-Fee, WAH-tah...

My ears were bleeding.

I think there were two people that epitomize my experience at the shore.

1) Skinny Jerz kid.

This kid was skinny, probably about 18 years old, had a sweet farmer's tan, a backwards hat, and most notably...

THIS WAS TATTOOED ON THE BACK OF HIS (tiny) BICEP.

I wish I could make this stuff up.

2) Da Guido.

Not only did this guy have a totally bimbo-licious grrrrrrrrlfriend, but a list of his most endearing features is as follows:

-Razor-straight chin strap.

-Gelled hair. And I mean gelled. If it was longer, he would have looked like a Dragon Ball-Z character. He went swimming in the ocean, came out, and his hair was exactly the same.

-Gold chains.

-Accent.

-The Walk. chest out, arms flexing to show off his steroid/excessive gym time muscles. It's basically a strut, just Jersey-fied.

Other than that, it was great. Other than the fact that the Atlantic is a mean ocean and I have a bruise the size of my fist on my butt where the ocean literally flipped me around and dumped me on my butt.

Free Cake is Good Cake

Of course everyone in the office thinks my Bus-capades are hysterical. What sympathetic, understanding people. Hmph.

Today is the day I do my share to ruin the environment. It's not what you're thinking.

I'm making copies.

Other than that, Rick gave me a project! I'm really gonna miss my fluff news stories, but I have a feeling we'll be reunited before long.

Basically, we compile and distribute a directory with summaries of the different regulations for generation facilities and transmission lines in each state, complete with contact information. For one reason or another, we haven't updated that information since 2004. Soooo it's my job now to go through every state and get them to send us new information. That means a lot of phone calls.

I started this yesterday, but now for some reason the phones are all broken. At first it was just voicemail and inter-office dialing, which I didn't need. Then it was calls to local outside lines, which I didn't need, and then, inevitably, long-distance stopped working too.

Naturally, calling long-distance was the only way for me to do my project. Looks like I get to read about Suge Knight selling Death Row Records sooner than I thought!

Also, there was a meeting somewhere upstairs, and there was cake left over. Mmmmm delicious.

Misadventures on a Bus: Part II

The Bus From Hell, aka the #53.

And then I had to come home via Hell.

I take the metro to the bus station no problem, but then I have to wait a hundred years for the stupid thing to get there. Of course it's probably a good 90 degrees outside, and don't even get me started on the humidity.

Picture this guy. Times 46. That's my bus.

It rolls up, FINALLY, I get on, and we start riding. Sweet. I'm trying to read, but the other people in the bus are all either BFFIWWW (Best friends forever in the whole wide world, thank you J. Michael) or just get really chatty on the bus. I don't really know which stop is mine, and I don't want to ask the driver to tell me when to get off...

I have this thing about not wanting to be That Girl, the tourist person, the eco-lite hipster-wannabe who decided to save the world only AFTER gas cost more than $4/gal. So, I attempt to look like a public transportation-savvy real person, usually with no problems.

I think you can see this one coming, but there were some problems. As in, I am NOT a public transportation-savvy real person, I'm really a lost kid on the verge of a panic attack the second we leave the station.

I have no idea which stop is mine or how long it takes to get there. At every stop I think, "Oh, this isn't me" and sit back. The second we pull away from the curb I think, "SHOOT! What if it was? Was it? Oh no! Where are we?! I've never seen this neighborhood in my life! etc etc etc". Almost everyone has gotten off the bus, so I'm starting to halfway consider asking the driver what on earth is going on, but there's a blind guy on the bus, and he knows EXACTLY what's up. If he doesn't need help, I certainly don't. I have FUNCTIONING EYES. That should be all the help I need.

I remember that the stop this morning was a path, that went both directions in the middle of a long, straight street that went up a slight hill. After going to a hospital that DEFINITELY was not there in the morning, we come to a place that might look familiar. Then we get onto a long street. It's straight. And slightly uphill. I start climbing around trying to look out all the windows to see if this one is actually The One, and then I see The Path. This is it!

I pull on the cord (which is actually harder than it seems) and the driver stops and lets me off. It's still 90 degrees. I head down the path, but it doesn't look quite right. The one I took in the morning was in a wooded area, and this one is just grass. Uh-oh.

I decide to follow the route the bus was taking and see if my stop was the next one or something. It wasn't. And now I'm lost. I recognize the neighborhood, sort of, so I decide to just walk and see if I can find a street I recognize and get home.

I call Adam so I don't look like some creep wandering the neighborhoods scoping out the small children to prey on, and keep wandering. For an hour. It is SO hot, SO humid, my feet are hurting, I'm really tired and completely parched. I'm walking along, and everything starts looking REALLY familiar. I realize I'm going in circles and NOT almost home and am SO frustrated.

Of course I didn't think to ask Adam to mapQuest the directions home for me before then. He does, and he leads me back... TO THE BUS STOP.

I stop dead in my tracks. I look down the hill. I see a path. Going both ways from the street. I see the direction I took: Grassy. Wrong. I look the other direction: Wooded. THE RIGHT WAY.

I, Intern Micossi, took the wrong path, and as a result ended up with 3 blisters, 4 gallons of sweat, tears of frustration, 7 1/2 handfuls of hair torn out, and 60+ minutes of aimless wandering.

I am SO never taking the bus again.

Misadventures on a Bus: Part I

This morning was HORRENDOUS. HORRENDOUS.

I get up an hour later than usual becuase Quin is out of town, which was great, and I was like, "Oh, I'll take the bus, it's greener, cheaper, blah blah blah."

Problem #1: I don't know exactly where the bus stop is.

So I was FIFTEEN minutes early and I was like oh I'll drive around real quick to find it. By the time I found it (note: it is ONE STREET OVER. ONE STREET!!!) the bus was just pulling away from the curb. And then I got lost trying to get home, and FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER (remember, one block away from home), I make it back and have to run to the bus stop. There's a path that goes between some of the houses so you don't have to walk all the way around, but obviously it forks, and obviously I take the wrong fork etc etc etc.

I spot some corporate-looking people walking around and I was like, oh, I'll just go where they're going. We get to the bus stop and I was like YES but then there are TWO, one on each side of the street. I basically just murp around this one guy for a while, and finally ask which one he's going on, and of course it's the other one. Sigh.

Problem 2: Now what?

His bus comes and goes... Anyways, NATURALLY my bus is a few minutes late, so I'm starting to panic that he was just messing with me and THAT was my bus that just drove away. Finally my bus comes, and it turns out I can use my MetroCard on it. Thank GOD becuase I don't think I have anything small enough for a fare machine.

Problem 3: The Bus Itself.

And buses? They suck. A lot. It's half corporate people drinking coffee and reading newspapers, 1/4 maids and whatnot on their way to some neighborhood to clean or whatever, and 1/4 AWFUL.

I'm thinking specifically of this one girl and her mom who got on the bus and DIDNT SHUT THEIR FAT MOUTHS THE ENTIRE TIME. She was probably like 14 and had this awful shiny face with like sparkly blue eyeshadow (Hello? This is a bus, not the Jersey Shore?) and she was talking exactly like this:

Omigawd, and like, and THEEEEEEEEN we went to the zoo, and, like, it was SOOOOOOOOOOOO cool. We went to see the um like pandas, and I'm like well like Tayshawn is my like favoriiiiiiiiite? Right? So I'm all like worried that I won't know like which one is him, becuase, like, ALL pandas are like black and white, you KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOW? And then we get like there and like I totally knew which one was him becuase it was his um birthday, right, and it was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO cool.

And I'm like, REALLY? Go die! And I'm pretty sure it's not pronounced TAYSHAWN. PANDAS DON'T HAVE GHETTO FABULOUS NAMES. I just looked it up: Tai shan. Nice try, Awful Girl.

Anyways, apparently it is in the nature of buses to meander slowly and awkwardly through every neighborhood that ever happened, so every once in a while I look up from my book and am like SHOOT! WHERE ARE WE?!?! I MISSED THE STOP AAAAAH and then I realize we are TEN FEET from where were ten minutes before. We FINALLY make it to the metro station FORTY FIVE MINUTES LATER (when I drive it takes 15) and I get on and take it blah blah blah I get to my station no problem and it's two blocks from work so I start walking.

Problem 4: There's still another 2 blocks to go.

There's this wierd guy walking towards me but I was like whatever, it's the city, weird people happen here, don't make eye contact. I pass him and IMMEDIATELY he turns around and starts walking right behind me. I speed up, he speeds up, I move to the right, he moves to the right. I attach myself to a group of lawer-ish looking people and he backs off some, and this guy was WEIRD. He was wearing a floppy denim top hat, a denim vest that was really just a jacket with the sleeves torn off, a tie-dye shirt with iron-on patches, and was really fat. Ew. Anyways, I bolt across the street and he leaves me alone thank goodness.

WHY IS MY LIFE SUCH A JOKE

The Things I Do...

The impending hysteria about the Savannah binders has yet to rear its ugly head. The same can definitely not be said about my impending boredome suicide by stapler. Kidding, but really. Today I was surfing one of my favorite blogs, gofugyourself.com*, and I found this made-up but still hysterical conversation between Will Smith and his wife:

WILL: We are the wickedest couple in the history of badassitude.

JADA: Not to mention dappertasticness.

WILL: And slickocity.

JADA: Sexification!

WILL: Jiggyificence!

Amazing. Needless to say, my sleep-and-entertainment deprived brain thought this was the greatest. I still think it's hysterical, though, so maybe I wasn't as delusional as I thought. Hmm...

I've also gotten into reading the news. Which is much more ridiculous than I remember it being. I always thought of the news as gory murders, economic gibberish, and other up-lifting things like dog fighting, gang violence, Iraq, and George Bush's latest decision. He is the Decider, after all.

Fake leather boots, obvi!

BUT. Lo and behold the awesome power of human interest pieces. A man is pregnant in Oregon, Miss USA trips on her evening gown AGAIN, an assasin-hiring grandma, vegan strippers... The list goes on for a long time. About 7 hours, coincidentally enough.



*Parents: Fugly= F***ing Ugly. Fugly. Get it? I didn't make it up, don't shoot the messenger!

TGIF, Week 1

True Life: I'm Bored.

We just got out of a TWO AND A HALF HOUR MEETING. It wasn't particularly interesting, but very, very long. and we did get lunch, so that was cool. And I made a friend (well, more like a we stood in line for food FOREVER friend, but I'll take what I can get), so that was cool. I somehow managed to end up at the same table as one of the vice presidents so I had to be "interested" the whole time, which was kind of hard, since I was trying to eat, listen, and not fall asleep all at the same time.

Although the director of the international department brought out a replica tribal bridal cap from Thailand. Apparently when a girl wants to get married, she wears this cap and it has bells and ribbons and whatnot.. there are also strands of beads, and each bead represents a cow that she owns, and there are these silver pieces hanging around that represent her dowry. It's SICK. I don't really remember what the relevance was, but who cares??

Yeah. I offically have nothing to do; I went around the ENTIRE DEPARTMENT asking if anyone needed anything, and I am useless. Officially. Whateverrrrrrrrrrrrr, next week is a big member conference in Savannah, so apparently it'll be insane. We make these giant binders for everyone who attends, and each member of the environment team is supposed to submit something for the talk theyll give or something... NO ONE HAS TURNED THEIRS IN. IT IS FRIDAY. THEY LEAVE TUESDAY (not this week, but the week after. But STILL). So we have to pester the heck out of them for those, make a BAZILLION copies, and frantically stuff them in the binders and have them IN SAVANNAH by Thursday.

That should be interesting.

Also, Adam got pink eye. Gross.

C-SPAN Live and in the Flesh

Look, Ma! I'm on TV!

Today was the Subcommittee Hearing on the Carbon Capture and Sequestration Bill in the House. And I went. And it was awesome.

Tracy, from the GA department here, invited me to tag along with her and a couple other people from EEI, so off I went to The Hill. Through the metal detectors, and we were there! The political heart of America! The workplace of the country's biggest movers and shakers! I was probably 10 feet away from someone absurdly powerful every minute I was there!

Anyways, we file into the hearing room, and Reps trickle in throughout the hearing. Apparently punctuality is not a requirement for legislators. Phew! There were 5 witnesses, one industry guy, one environmentalist, one state commissioner, and 2 scientists. All the Reps got to make a brief opening statement (Reptitive? Maybe. Still awesome? Heck yes.), and once everyone had done that they took turns asking the witnesses questions.

During the whole thing, the Reps were making fun of each other, cracking jokes, and generally acting like real people. Wait, what? Weird, I know.

My favorite part was after the environmentalist guy was spouting some statistics and cited BP to make his point. I jotted down on my notepad: BP? British Petroleum? What do they have to do with electricity generation?. Wouldn't you know it, one of the representatives asked him the same thing. I couldn't see his face, but I'm pretty sure Mr. Gu (pronounced "goo", talk about a rough childhood) was bright red seeing as he got totally called out. I felt so smart. Still do, as a matter of fact lol.

Other than the excitement of the hearing, I basically sit at my desk all day and either do nothing, blog, or research. I basically don't know anything about the industry, current rules, or what the issues are. Whoops. It turns out there is a LOT of stuff that I don't know. For example, I looked up CAIR (Clean Air Insterstate Rule) and had to look up a stack of other things before I could figure out what was going on. MACT, BTA, SCR, IGCC... It's a serious bowl of alphabet soup. Luckily I made an acronym cheat sheet where I record all the ones I come across so I don't feel like a total doofus when someone says something random like NAAQS. National Ambient Air Quality Standards, in case you wanted to know. It's nerdy, but extremely helpful.

Amanda the Toastmaster

Apparently this is a real thing.

And has nothing to do with this.

Quin gave me an interesting assignment today... Survive one Toastmasters meeting. I was really excited, but it turns out it's the speaking kind of toast, not the delicious, crunchy bread kind you can put heap obscene amounts of jelly on. BUMMER.

It's basically a public speaking-improvement club, where they get together every week (I think) and take turns giving speeches and giving comments on those speeches. Everyone in the meeting has a job, and my favorite? The UM Counter. It's exactly what it sounds like. Someone sits there and counts the number of ums, ahs, errs, and uhhs you say while speaking. Awesome. I definitely want to be one when I grow up.

So after the food-less toastmasters meeting, I went to the lunch room (no toast there either; what kind of place are they running here?!) and TD was just coming in for lunch too, so we sat together. Super sweet intern lunch part II! Yeah. Super sweet may be a bit of a stretch, but eating with another person was kinda cool. Usually I read some sort of thriller novel; there are a couple shelves with books for employees in the lunchroom that I'm cranking through.

Intern Lunch, Among Other Things

Who knew you could add pictures to these things?

So I got invited to go to a House of Representatives subcommittee hearing on a Carbon Capture and Sequestration Bill yesterday, and for some reason I thought it was today. I was all angsty about what I should wear, getting enough sleep, and learning enough about the bill that I would only be slightly completely lost at the actual hearing.


But. The hearing is on Thursday, not Tuesday. I have that on my computer calendar, my phone calendar, AND my planner. So basically, I definitely should have known and am a giant dummy for getting that wrong.

I'm currently reading legislation. Like, the text, not summaries. It's rough. Although it's better than what I was doing before, which was reading the word-for-word transcripts of congressional debates (Think roll call. For senators. Four times.).

Allegedly theyre giving me something to do soon, but we'll see if that ever happens. The other interns (other than TD from Yale/Iowa, of course) said that they were largely unused the first few days they were here, too, but now they're mega-busy. Hopefully I am too. Although I would be okay with just busy, no mega.

SO. The Intern Lunch.

It was interesting enough, all the interns and their supervisors were there, and there was pizza, so that made things more interesting. And delicious. Each supervisor briefly explained what their department did, and I was suprised at the variety of work EEI does. Quin is in the environmental dept, there was a girl in HR, someone in media relations, economics... Etc, etc, etc. There's also a government affairs (nice-speak for lobbyist) department, but no one was interning there.

After the whole adult thing was over, the interns hung out for another hour, playing ice breaker games. Well, we really only played one game, Two Truths and a Lie, but we sat around talking. And breaking the ice, I guess. ANYWAYS it turns out T.D. is only pretentious around adults, and when it was just the interns, he was really chill. Who knew? The other ones were really nice too, there's one guy who's down the hall from me that's my year at U. Vermont. The others were all older. I guess that makes me the baby.

And So It Begins...

All right, so because of my negligent posting, a lot of this is taken from e-mails to friends and the occasional journal entry. I'll try to be more regular... No promises, though.

First day in the office!

Orientation was blah. Basically they showed me around the office, which Quin had already done. The only thing I remember is how to get to the break/coffee room and the bathroom. Kind of. They conveniently scheduled my orientation to be during the department staff meeting, so now I'm just waiting for it to finish and for someone to give me something to do other than sit in a chair and read my book that is fast approaching the finish. Someone did leave white out and post-it notes on my desk though-- two of my favorite things in the whole world, and two things I will most definitely be unable to function without.


There was another intern at the orientation, T.D. from Iowa. He graduated from Yale last year and seemed pretty smug about it. I was like, oh I'm a rising sophomore (PS. Lamest term EVER. Rising?? What on earth) at W&L and he was like oh that's a pretty legit school. 1) Legit is so 2007. 2) Yale= generic, obvious good school. With ridiculous grade inflation. I'll bet your entire family went there the second they stepped off the Mayflower. W&L= way more awesome.

Everyone in the office seems really nice... One of the guys in the department is long-time family friends with Kristin Staffo (the one who's friends with Ruchira and Amy? Freshman Theta? Took Boldrick to My Tie?)

I also got shown around the office twice more, by Cynthia, Quin's assistant, and Gayle, another lady in the department. The sad thing is, I still can't find anything. Now would be a great time for my sense of direction to develop.

PS. Who came up with the term "rising [insert year here]"? It actually doesn't make sense. I'm not rising anywhere, in fact, rumor is that I will actually slump. Super.