Half the Fun

In my first post, I said that orientations make me fidget…and they do. But commencements and goodbyes can really get to me…especially if I haven’t adequately prepared myself. My internship, which can be intense at times, kept me quite busy towards the end, so much so that I never really saw the end coming. Now, granted, I have quite the easy experience, having to move all of twenty minutes in order to get home, while other people are flying to Chicago, and California, and Canada.

But still, I was surprised at how much I began missing this experience, even though, now after my internship has ended, I still frequent the same places that I did when I was working. It’s not the same though. Because although I got to do some pretty cool stuff as part of this program, and had an amazing and intense internship, I also got pretty close with some great people, and this city feels a little empty without them.

I only recently realized that I hadn’t much mentioned the friends I’ve made since starting TWC. As far as coworkers go, I got reeeally lucky, because we all formed a really tight bond, and not only did four of us spend at least eight hours a day, five days a week crammed into the same tiny office, but we also spent most of our weekends together too.

We even developed a neat little ritual: Friday evening happy hours at Hawk and Dove (it's on Capitol Hill, check it out). Without any prior planning, we would all just sort of wander there, my three coworkers, the folks that made up our larger group and I. Without fail, we would spend hours drinking and having ridiculous conversations/storytelling sessions. And then the party would continue at someone’s apartment. As much as I enjoyed my internship, what really made it great was being able to hang with a great group of folk after work everyday.

And not only were my co-workers great, but my roommates were too. They are some of the funniest people I’ve met, and we always had a great time doing ridiculous things…sometimes at the Washington Monument…sometimes at the Department of Agriculture >_>

Spending my days with Jingles, Legs, Ketchup (okay, I’ve coined that one since the program ended) and Jo (yeah, just don’t ask) made the slow times go by faster, and the frantic times…well, that was actually harder, because I knew if I had work to do, I was gonna miss out on some hilarious stories.

I have learned more than I could have hoped this summer. I feel like it went by so fast that I’m only beginning to realize the ways that I’ve grown and matured since I started this program in May, but I know it was absolutely more than worth it. Most importantly, I’ve developed a confidence in my ability to contribute to the political realm. But the experience was made that much sweeter by being able to share it with some awesome folks.

It’s been a pleasure, and I hope anyone reading this sends in their TWC application immediately. You won’t regret it. So I’m gonna hit the old dusty trail, and if all goes well, you’ll hear my name in the future. Peace.

Until next time…

Hehe…I’m such a creeper in this pic -_-

When People Start Getting Real...

My last post, and much of my own personal contemplations about this summer have revolved around the “real world,” and what it means to transition into it. But as I’ve been getting this experience in a pretty genuine way this summer, in another part of the city, there are eight strangers…picked to live in a house…and have their lives taped.

Yes, I’m talking about the cast of “The Real World D.C.,” a special brand of ignorant a-holes so desperate to get on television that they will allow their most private moments to be filmed and aired for millions, potentially ruining any legitimate career options they may have had in the future. Except maybe future Real World Reunion hosting gigs…

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m actually pretty excited to see the real world come to D.C. In fact, my friends and I have wondered what took it so long. We’ve wanted to see a show here since at least Real World: Back to New York…yikes. See what I did there? I accidentally revealed that I’ve watched the Real World before…quite the social faux pas. But it can be really entertaining at times. And more-so, confidence building. Because for an hour a week, I find myself thinking “Wow, I’m glad I’m not as stupid as they are.” I can go to bed feelin' good about myself.

But I digress…. I’ve wanted to see the show come here for a while, and I’m glad that it did, especially during the summer, when I would be here to experience it. And it has been quite the experience. D.C. has already gotten its taste of celebrity fever since the Obamas moved to town. But running into Barack isn’t all too easy, unless separated my inch-thick bulletproof glass. The Real Worlders, however, like to party and make fools of themselves, and don’t have trained assassins guarding them at all times. So until they leave, I will put my regular routine of Obama stalking on hold.

I actually got lucky though. My TWC class was held near Dupont Circle, and one night after class, after learning that someone had discovered where the house was, and that the cast might be moving in soon, I thought I would drop by and check out their digs. Expecting to see a half finished new-age building, instead I found a fully renovated Victorian mansion. (They’re actually not that rare in this city, but to see one so nice on the inside obviously is) I was jealous because I had always wanted a house like that, so I approached it and began inspecting the outside. There was a group of folks standing outside the gate, so I figured they were trying to get a peek at the house too. I stopped to ask one of them a question.

Me:“This is intense…do you know when the cast moves in?”

Bald Black Guy: “Umm, we’re already here.”

Me: “…oh.”

I then walked away awkwardly, but two seconds later, encountered two people walking around the corner with cameras following them. That was pretty weird. I managed to meet 3/8 of the Real World D.C. cast the day the moved in, which is pretty sweet I think. Since then, it’s been funny to hear all of random stories from TWC folk about running into them in different places. Like in the club, or at a Quiznos, or in a club, or on the Metro, or in a club. (They really like clubbing.)

While pretty insignificant, it’s been another interesting part of this already interesting summer.

Until next time…

Man, I Love College

If there is anything that this summer has taught me, it is to appreciate that beauty of college. I mean seriously, compared to the “real world”, or the sliver of it that I have been experiencing this summer, it’s an absolute cake walk. Never again will I complain about cafeteria food. Because I’m sure when I return to my home campus, I will marvel at the magic that is a meal plan.

“Wait, so I just swipe my card, and I get already prepared food? Whoah!” I don’t see Tootie, our cafeteria worker, being too patient with me.

But that is almost my reaction. I don’t have to pay up front, or go and purchase, or cook my food, like I’ve had to do this entire summer? It's just…there! And I don’t have to factor in a 45 minute commute to get to work? I can just walk across campus? In my pajamas?!?! No suit and tie in 95 degree weather? I’m honestly getting giddy at the thought of it. This summer has taught me to appreciate the comforts of campus living for the one final year that I will have access to it, and I’m glad that I’ve know what I’ve got before it’s gone.

My understanding of the differences between the real world and college life is that, in the real world, not nearly as much is handed to you. Things that you stopped even considering while in school are suddenly things you have to manage when you’re living on your own, and working the equivalent of a full-time job. Like dry cleaning. I’m normally a drag my clothes to the laundry room at 3 a.m. kinda guy, but waking up at 6 a.m. every morning doesn’t exactly make this feasible. And to think, I used to complain about paying a couple bucks to wash and dry. I’ve learned to shut up now.

The Washington Center has not only allowed me to savor my final two semesters of college, but has also eased my transition into the real world. Because after a couple of months here, I did begin to miss living in a dorm a bit. But I was comforted by the fact that I could go back. If I had experienced this for the first time next May, it might not have been so pretty.

The point of my rambling is, essentially, appreciate what you have. Because you’ll only have it for four years (although you can stretch it to five if you really try).

Until next time…

Off the Beaten Path

So you’ve done it all, right? You’ve seen the monuments, the White House, the Capitol, the museums, everything. You’ve toured D.C. backwards and forwards, and now you’re ready to go home.

Not so fast. I know for most people spending a few days in the District really means walking around the handful of blocks that comprises the National Mall. You marvel at all the pretty white buildings, and their history, grab a week-old hot dog from that sketchy stand in front of the Agriculture department, and call it a day.

But if you think back, did you really notice anyone who wasn’t a tourist? The abundance of fanny packs and long lens cameras should be a clue. D.C. is a city of more than 500,000 people, which swells to well over 1 million during the workday, so if you’re not seeing many folks who look like they’re from around here, maybe that means you should try exploring other parts of the city.

And here’s where I come in. Now, maybe I’m a bit jaded, but if you see the Capitol or the Washington Monument every day for 21 odd years, it becomes just a wee bit less impressive. There are, however, other parts of this city that never cease to amaze me.

Like the National Cathedral. Granted, it’s way up in the upper Northwest quadrant of the city, and surely isn’t Metro accessible, but its worth the extra effort. It is, hands down, the most impressive church I’ve ever seen. Not to sound all pretentious-like, but I just got back from London, land of the impressive church. When I saw Westminster Abbey, the first thing I thought was “Well, the National Cathedral kicks this thing's ass…" Seriously, not only is it HUGE (it can be seen from all points of the city if you’re up high enough), but its architecture is amazing. Go inside, and, after you almost pass out after looking up at the ceilings, just sit and stare at the stained glass windows. You could probably spend a whole afternoon just doing that. And you can even go to the top! Sigh…so amazing.

Churches give you the creeps? Well then lets try something else. Georgetown is a pretty happening part of the city, and people usually end up spending have of their life savings in the shops on M street, but when in Georgetown, I rarely spend money. If you find yourself with a free evening, walk to the Key Bridge at dusk. Best. Sunset. Ever. You get to see the huge buildings in downtown Arlington, the bustling of Georgetown, the serene waterfront and woods of Roosevelt Island, the kayakers on the Potomac, the Kennedy Center AND the Exorcist stairs…without having to turn your head! Can we say sweet?

Feeling like some fresh produce? Try hitting up the historic Eastern Market on the weekend. Not only do they sell groceries, but handmade crafts of all kinds, and enough shiny jewelry to captivate you for hours.

Whatever you find yourself doing in D.C., make sure its not just the “touristy stuff.” D.C. is a real city where people live, and if you travel off the beaten path, you can find something that will impress you just as much as the Lincoln Memorial.

Until next time…

At the mCapitol offices, we like to keep ourselves apprised of the news, so CNN is often on in the front lobby. I had to cover the front desk for a few hours last week, and, in that time, witnessed the infuriating coverage of the whole Henry Gates/Cambridge police fiasco. It really began to tick me off, and work had slowed down a bit because of the recess, so I managed to vent my frustration onto paper throughout the afternoon.

So, as promised, I am posting one of my many rants about current events. Enjoy, and feel free to comment!

As Barry, Joe, Jim and Skip sat down last night, over chilled mugs and salted snacks, the nation breathed a collective sigh of relief. The tense two weeks of “Gates-gate” are finally coming to a close.

So, after inches of column space and hours airtime have been devoted to discussing this incident, something positive has to come of this, right? Something to help us sleep soundly tonight? Something to let us know that we haven’t hopelessly squandered another opportunity to honestly confront one of America’s greatest ills? We should learn something valuable, but every time we attempt “the race talk”, we become snagged on disagreements on its very existence. People still want to know: Is race still an issue in the United States?

The arrest of Dr. Gates hasn’t seemed to prove to the general American public that discrimination still pervades our society. But neither did the Jena 6, or Hurricane Katrina, or those Philadelphia kids denied access to a pool, or the shooting of Amadou Dialou, or Rodney King or even the indisputable statistics that illustrate gaping divides between the experiences of minorities and the rest of America. We look for an answer to our question in each of these instances, yet to learn the truth, we need only look to our actions and reactions in the aftermath.

Throughout the last two weeks, many Americans have bristled at the mere suggestion that race could potentially be a factor in Dr. Gates’ arrest, and then scrambled to find any other factor that may be at work. This isn’t unusual, as minorities often tell of others scoffing at the idea of racial inequality, and going to great lengths to prove, mostly to themselves, that we no longer have this issue to deal with. Disproving and discrediting accounts of racism seems to have become a national pastime, and it’s one that makes minorities feel ignored, dismissed, angry and not trusted.

Others, often conservatives, complain that racial sensitivity has somehow transformed our country into a hyper-politically correct society, where speaking your mind has you labeled as a racist. You can’t call black women “nappy headed hoes?” What has this country come to? Barack the Magic Negro isn’t an appropriate song to play on the radio? We might as well be under Stalin!

Yet, even as minorities are blamed for the supposed over-censoring of American racial dialogue, we hold little power in it. Think about it, in America, being labeled as a racist is now considered a more egregious adversity than actually suffering the injustices of racism. Anyone who dares bring up an instance of discrimination is scorned and told to stop “playing the race card,” while those suspected of prejudice are coddled and comforted. Minorities are now hesitant to even allude to racism, for fear of the backlash they will endure. Think of how many legitimate, life damaging instances of discrimination we ignore by assuming any claim of prejudice is overreaction and exaggeration?

And look at the outpouring of support for officer Crowley and Lucia Whalens, who publicly defended themselves against charges of racism. That support isn’t nearly matched for the man who had his basic civil rights violated.

An astonishing NBC/WSJ poll makes clear the public’s thinking on Dr. Gates’ arrest. Overall, 27% of Americans believe that professor Gates was at fault for this incident, while only 11% blame Sgt. Crowley. Broken down by race, only 4% of African Americans blame Dr. Gates, and 30% blame Officer Crowley. For whites, the results are almost the exact opposite, with 32% finding Gates at fault, and 7% blaming Crowley.

I’m not sure if my jaw had actually ever dropped at anything before, but to this it fell to the floor. Nothing proves that a problem exists here more than this obvious chasm in the worldviews of white and black Americans.

Whether you support Gates’ reaction to Officer Crowley, or you think it was an overreaction, the Cambridge police department has acknowledged the charges made against Gates were false, and that his arrest was unlawful. Yet, somehow, the public still believes Gates to be at fault in this incident. An officer clearly over-steps his boundaries and makes an unlawful arrest, and he can be absolved of all guilt, yet the man who is arrested in his own home for not breaking the law is made out to be the bad guy? In the words of Bill Cosby: Come on, people!

How has the national debate on race become so backwards, so ignorant of the issues? Why is it that journalists, politicians and media personalities capable of speaking expertly on health care and climate change, become stupefied and inept when it comes to race?

How are we at a point where the first black president and the supposed first Latina Supreme Court Justice are both labeled as racists, without national outrage? How can a Boston police officer publicly call Dr. Gates a “banana eating Jungle Monkey,” without convincing anyone that we still have serious issues to deal with?

And to add to his statements, this police officer has publicly stated that he is not a racist…Let me repeat, he believes, in his heart, that he is not a racist. That defies all logic and reason! If making statements like that doesn’t earn you the title of racist, then I’d be afraid to see what does.

Maybe that’s our problem, though. We’ve lost control of the meaning of the word racism. It’s gotten so convoluted, so weighed down with emotional baggage on each side that people think just because I can walk down the street assured that I won’t be found strung from a tree the next morning, it doesn’t mean that I will never be called a Nigger, or equally considered for a job, or treated with respect by the police.

Given our long and troubled history with racism in this country, why is it so hard for us to believe that we are still dealing with it? What would lead us to think that this nation has been magically cured of its four century long ailment?

To say that there are structural and institutional inequities does not change the fact that America is a great country, it just means that we’ve still got work to do. To propose that Officer Crowley may have had a subconsciously prejudiced response to Dr. Gates does not mean that he is a hateful person. It means that we live in a country where race has been an issue for hundreds of years, and not one single person, not even law enforcement officials, is free from the influence of that legacy.

We all have racial prejudices, many of which we are unaware of. We think racism requires a pointed hood, or a swastika tatoo. It doesn’t. Well intentioned people can discriminate too. We must acknowledge the persistence of those sentiments, and work to honestly confront them, so that when we do unconsciously pass them on to our children, as older generations did to us, their impact will be minimized.

No one would deny that progress has not been made since the darkest days of slavery, Jim Crow, and other injustices. All Americans are proud of this fact. We just witnessed the election of the first black President, a triumph that brought the entire country together. Don’t we want more victories like that? Don’t we want to look forward to celebrating the disappearance of more long standing inequalities?

If the answer is yes, then complacency is not an option. We cannot stagnate in the wake of recent successes. Progress must still be made. Racism and discrimination is a cancer, an infection. Open conversation, activism, and public policy changes are the antibiotic. Even if some of us may be feeling a bit better, we all know that we need to finish the prescription in order to rid ourselves of the disease.

Look Ma, I’m famous!

My apologies for the delay in postings, things have been a little crazy the past couple of weeks. First off, a few weeks back, The Washington Center had us attend a taping of “Close-Up,” a sweet little news show taped at the Newseum and aired on C-SPAN.

They needed a “student journalist” to participate, and while I would certainly not qualify myself as such, mentioning that I work on my school newspaper got me roped into answering questions…on television…that people are going to watch. You know that gulping sound that cartoon characters make when they think they’re gonna die? Yeah, I made that noise.

As fun as being on TV sounds, getting through the taping can be a little tricky. For several reasons.

1: I am not a fan of public speaking…at all. A live audience and viewers at home and online? Well now I’m just trying not to wet myself.

2: I’m really, really clumsy. Like, known for engaging in epic battles with gravity-type clumsy. And we all know gravity always wins.

3: I listen to my music really, really loudly, meaning my hearing is shot. Seriously, I think my 91 year old grandmother’s got an advantage over me there, so I was justified in my nervousness about not being able to hear the host.

So add all those things up, and you get me being a wee bit nervous. Thankfully, everything turned out okay. I didn’t freeze up, or have to ask the host to repeat his question 8 times, or even tragically trip over a light stand and careen into the back of the set. I was shaking like crazy when I did it, but you can’t tell on camera.

So there’s that, and I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out. Within hours of it airing, my family had managed to dig up online copies and send out mass e-mails with the link. Embarrassing, but expected.

But wait, it gets better! Not even two weeks after my television debut, I found out through my internship that I had been selected to participate in an interview with NPR. After I collected my jaw from the floor, I agreed, and a couple of weeks later, some folks from NPR showed up at my office, interviewed me, and observed my fellow interns and I hard at work. I haven’t heard yet when it’s going to air, but I’m pretty excited about it.

For sure, I’ve gotten to do a lot of amazing things as part of this internship, and I can say, confidently, that this has been one of the best summers I’ve ever had. I’ll update soon. Until next time…

Safety First

Now, I won’t lie to you and tell you that D.C. is the safest city in the world, cause, well, you read the news. However, this city is nowhere near as dangerous or scary as people make it sound. It’s just hype. The news tends to exaggerate things, and the worst thing you can do when you come to D.C. is to cower under a blanket in your apartment for fear of getting shanked…Besides, everyone should get their first stabbing over with. (Compleeetely kidding!)

So what should you do to ensure your safety? It requires the fine art of not being stupid. This is, unfortunately, harder for some than others. For instance, DO NOT go jogging at 11:30 at night with your iPod strapped to your arm. That makes you a target (and an easy one at that), and you are likely to be robbed. Now, I’ve only been robbed once in all of my 21 years here, and you know why it happened? Because I was twelve, and stupid. I thought riding my bike around the city with a brand new CD player, cell phone and twenty dollars in plain sight was a fantastic idea. Learned my lesson on that one.

Another tip: If you do feel unsafe, travel in groups, and if you’re by yourself, stay where the people are. When things do happen in this city, it is rarely to people who travel in groups. So, make sure you are don’t travel alone on your way to the club. Stay in well-lit, well populated areas. There are few people stupid enough to rob someone with 100 witnesses around.

Most importantly, know your areas! Crime in this city is relatively concentrated. This means that if you avoid certain parts of the city (that you would probably have no business in anyway), then you will be just fine. Pay attention to the news, and crime statistics. Keep hearing the words Anacostia and double homicide in the same sentence? Hmmm…you should probably limit your time in Anacostia. (Again, I can’t think of one reason that you would need to go there. All of The Washington Center’s housing, programming, etc. are in safe areas of the city.) You can also go to the Metropolitan Police Department’s website and check out the statistics online.

This last one may not be backed by statistics, and is more of a personal thing, but I feel the need to share. The National Mall is beautiful, especially at night. I know that plenty of visitors to D.C. journey to the Lincoln memorial at night to sit on the steps. But know this: The Mall, and the surrounding area downtown, has very few residential sections. Which means that while it is one of the most populated areas of the city during the day, if you got there at night, it is likely to be completed deserted. Seriously…it’s gonna be you and a couple of hobos for about seven blocks…and those hobos don’t want you wandering around their living room at odd hours of the night.

The rest of D.C.’s residents migrate to other parts of the city after work and happy hour, so, if you do decide to venture to the Mall at night, go earlier rather than later. Dusk is better than 3 a.m. And be careful. Tourists are targets too, and if you’re wandering around the Washington monument at 1:30 in the morning, you’re easy to spot as a tourist.

And, worth repeating, don’t believe the hype! We are a friendly city with a few bad neighborhoods, just like every other major American city. The worst thing in the world that you could do would be to avoid an experience like this one because you’re nervous about living here.

Glad I could help, until next time…

Mind Your Manners

As a native Washingtonian, I feel a sense of civic obligation to those who may be venturing to D.C. for an internship, or really, for anything, in the future. I’ve got the inside info, which makes me feel all cool and special.

So, for the next few weeks, in addition to giving you the titillating details of my own life, I will deliver insider tips on how to make the most out of the nation’s capital.

Even as a life-long resident, I never really get tired of this city, and it has so much to offer if you know your way around. Looking like a tourist is okay the first few days you’re here is okay, but after a while, you want to start to settle into the groove of things, and hopefully I can help you.

So, without further delay, I present to you: Ten ways not to get bored, cursed out, cheated, hit by a car in Washington, D.C.

First off? The complex lesson of Washingtonian Etiquette:

When you arrive here in the district, you will undoubtedly hear the phrase “stand right, walk left.” Now, before you go tripping over yourself trying to walk with one leg and stand with the other, know that this is the unwritten rule for the dizzying number of escalators you will encounter here in the District.

This is a town full of busy people, who want to get things done, and may, from time to time, be inclined to violently shove anybody out of their way in that effort. So to avoid contention, keep in mind: If you are going to leisurely enjoy your ride up to street level, please stand on the right to allow the quick tempered, caffeine addled Hill staffers to run past you. Follow this rule, and you can almost halve the number of expletive laced rants you will encounter.

Now, contrary to what the above statements would have you believe, D.C. is not New York, or Boston, or L.A. We are actually an exceptionally pleasant city. (In my opinion) People smile at you when you see them, hold doors, help you with directions, etc.

But you will, unfortunately, encounter your rare a-hole. But I’ve got a secret. Lean in close now…They’re not really from D.C.

That guy elbowing you out of the way to catch the next Red line train to Glenmont? Betcha he’s from Kansas. The woman who stepped on your foot and then had the nerve to give you the stank face? Carpetbagger from Connecticut. Even that evil barista at Starbucks who looks like he would rather throw your Chai in your face than hand it you, is probably originally from Alabama. The point is, these people ain’t natives.

The myth is that in order to survive in a city, you have to be aggressive, cold, and ruthless to get ahead. You have to look out for numero uno, step on other people’s heads, walk the walk, talk the talk. None of that is true.

And I think the same goes for a lot of cities. Us city folk are laid back. We don’t like to rush things, and usually aren’t too high strung. It’s those transplants that give us the bad name…damn transplants. So the next time you encounter an exceedingly rude person in D.C., you can comfort yourself knowing that it’s all an act to appear tough.

But it gets even more complicated. Because, although D.C. is nice for a big city, it isn’t some tiny town in Middle America either. The culture here is a little different, and some things you may have taken for rudeness were just cultural variations. Like, for instance, smiles here aren’t quite what they are everywhere else. You’re more likely to find what I call “the lip curl”, which is that kinda awkward half-smile that straddles the line between “nice to meet you” and “you’re in my way.”

The lip curl is usually given with the best of intentions, and should be taken as a polite greeting. Do not, however, mistake it as an invitation for an extended discussion of the weather.

Someone didn’t say thank you after you held the door for them? Pay attention. If they widened their eyes and gave you a lip curl, that means thanks. Strange, I know, but that’s just the way we roll in the D dot C…

Until Next Time…

The Internship

I hate orientations. They make me fidget. I have veeerry limited patience for welcomes and opening seminars and icebreakers...God, icebreakers really are the worst. Haven’t been to one yet that wasn’t awkward… Anyway, I like to think of myself as more of a jump in, learn as you go kinda guy, which has made me a good fit for my internship.

This summer I will be working at mCapitol Management, a lobbying firm in downtown D.C. The first day, we spent a couple of hours getting a tour of the office, getting to know everyone, and learning our responsibilities. And then we were off. I’ll do my best to post all of my successes and failures on this blog. (Let’s hope for more of the former.)

So, how am I doing so far? It’s hard to say. Let me sidetrack a bit. First of all, my fellow interns are some of the coolest people you’ll meet. When not diligently working (obviously), we have a pretty good time in the office that four of us share together, affectionately called “the pod” (although I am campaigning to change it to “the bullpen”). We tell embarrassing stories, argue about who the hottest first lady was, and give each other odd nicknames. (shoutout to “Legs” and “Jingles”) We’ve even got a pretty schweet quote board goin’ on. Oh…and we like to label things…a lot.

Most importantly though, I think we keep each other from freaking out. Our jobs aren’t necessarily difficult, but as an intern, there is always pressure. Pressure to succeed, and to impress, and to not eff up. This is the time when we are supposed to prove that we are at least semi-competent in the field we have chosen, and that we could cut it in “the real world.”

With that on your shoulders, a mild mental breakdown or two is expected, but having four other people going through the same thing makes life much less stressful. And my fellow interns and I have collectively come to understand the appeal of a low stress job like, say, a janitor at an Arby’s. Sigh…that’s my dream.

So, as an attempt to answer the question “how am I doing?” I would say that I’m doing alright. I haven’t had any major screw-ups, I’m getting along well with everyone, and most importantly, I’m learning a ton. Seriously. After a couple of weeks of researching and keeping track of news (part of my responsibilities), I could probably talk at length about Medicare or cap-and-trade without having to resort to Wikipedia. Go me!

So yeah, here’s to continued success. Oh, and, unlike my last post, here is a picture of me with a living, breathing Tucker Carlson. Woohoo!

Until next time!

Well herrooo. I see you’ve stumbled upon my little blog here. Come on in… Don’t track dirt on the carpet…May I interest you in a Hot Pocket?

My name is Devin, and I will be your window into what life is like being an intern through The Washington Center . Besides giving anyone who is interested an honest view of what a summer here is like, I will, without a doubt, use this space for many of my ramblings and rants on any of the issues of the day.

Aaand in case you haven’t noticed, grammar, syntax, spelling and formality are all on a permanent vacation, so if dangling prepositions make you cringe, run far, far away…Oh, and I reeeaallly like ellipses… See? As punctuaton goes, I find them more useful than they actually are.

Where to start, where to start? I could talk your ear off about how freaked out I was when I hadn’t packed the night before I left, or about my long and arduous journey from the opposite end of this country, or even my difficulty adjusting to life in D.C. and away from my family.

Sounds like an exciting start, huh? (Probably not, but just go with it.) Yeah, well it’s a lie. I’m actually from Washington, D.C. (born and raised) I live in the heart of the city, about 10 minutes from the Capitol building. I traveled all of…20 minutes to get to my TWC apartment, and my bags were still packed from my semester abroad in London.

Sooo, that means that this summer will be a piece of cake for me, right? I know Washington like the back of my hand, and I can go through my internship with my eyes closed? HA! No such luck. I’ll explain. To its residents, D.C. has a reputation of having a severe case of dissociative identity disorder. It’s really two cities in one, named accordingly (well, by me) “Washington” and “D.C.”

Washington is the city of congress, and lobbyists, and the National Mall, and lobbyists, and where the phrase “inside the beltway” actually means something…and lobbyists. D.C. , on the other hand, is the home of the Redskins and the Wizards, and Go-Go music (you might have to look that one up), and Ben’s Chili Bowl and *cough* Marion Barry (unfortunately). Having lived all of my 21 years in D.C., mostly isolated from the moving and shaking of Capitol Hill, I think it’s about time I really get to know my city’s other side.

Despite studying politics in school, I am just as lacking in real world experience in this field as everyone else is. I’m going to have to learn as I go, just like everyone else, without any assistance from my zip code. At the same time, I hope I can share in the wonder that other interns may be feeling. Although I see the Capitol building everyday, the thought of taking a trip to the Hill as part of my internship makes my heart race. I also doubt being a resident of the District will give me any advantage over any other interns (I may have an easier time navigating the Metro in rush hour…), and so I am oddly eager to feel a bit wet behind the ears.

All that rambling, and I didn’t even get to my first week at my internship? Well, I guess you’ll just have to stop by again, now won’t you? (You better!!) In the meantime, here’s a picture of me and President Obama!

Until next time!

Hehehe