Reading through my last blog, I only slightly remember writing it. I apologize for it. It is completely miserable and I will probably delete it.
Meanwhile, I need to get cracking on writing about my actual internship!
Today, upon returning to the office, I found myself thrown into another guest list for yet another reception. Luckily, this time my name was not the RSVP contact, which saves me a lot of time. This is a one-day week for me, and I couldn't be happier about that fact.
So let me allow you to give a mid-term evaluation of myself in this process of my internship. For academic purposes (not narcissim) I will answer a series of questions about my experience thus far.
1. What do your duties include?
My duties this semester have included a hodge-podge of tasks. Mostly, I work as the cultural affairs intern. What this means is that I basically plan parties and attend them. From start to finish, it looks like this. I find out that there is an artist/author/important person coming to the Embassy. I spend some time researching this individual, and thinking about who would most likely be invited to hear this particular person speak. I then compile a list of people I think are appropriate, and my boss checks it and adds her own contacts. I set up and Excel sheet with the guests, and send out personalized invitations to them. From there, I follow the RSVP's. Often the guest 'recruiting process' goes on until the day of the event.
From there, I research more the event and honoree, often creating documents and biographies for the Ambassador to read. I sort of create "cheat sheets" of information, condensing information the best way I can. Often times I am even asked to create "talking points" for the Ambassador.
By the time the event has arrived, I know the occupation and title of each guest, and recognize their names as I greet them at the door. At the event, I am given tasks by the Ambassador's wife or my boss. I try to accomodate this the best I know how.
That is the main part of my job. The other part involves field trips. I am sort of the "about town" girl for the Embassy. If someone needs to attend a conference or luncheon, they send me. From there I take notes and write reports on the event. These always include food, and always, I am the youngest in attendence. Usually I get a nametag that says something to the effect of "Diplomat" which always gives me a little undeserved ego boost.
2. What has been the most challenging part of the internship to date?
The most challenging part of my job is dealing with people under stress. I have learned that when people feel pressure, they tend not to speak or think clearly, and it is then that I become not only an intern, but and interpretor. Between stuttering and yelling, I hear commands given to me that at times make no sense. But I just do what I think I should. I try to follow my instincts on what needs to be done, because quite frankly, no one around me is making sense.
This has taught me that there is a fine line between doing what you are asked, and overstepping your bounds. People have a very specific expectation for your work, and often do not know how to react if it is different than what they had imagined. So, it is a challenge to get enough information out of a boss to achieve what they want, while not being annoying or overbearing.
3. What is the best part of my job?
The best part is the social events. I truly enjoy the people that are invited to these events, and they are always so grateful to be a part of it. When all the guests have arrived, and no one is staring me down, its great to relax and learn all sorts of things from the people that are invited. Also, I have my own office, which is pretty chill.
4. What skills that I have learned here can help me potentially in the future?
I have learned a lot about how things work in an office (especially particular to this embassy). The things I have learned I could only have learned through this long time here- just the general ettiquete of the office- how emails are sent, a whole office working off a shared drive, faxing, copying, etc.
Also I have learned how to balance my life when working a 9-5 job. Often times, it can feel overwhelming, and as though I live at work. I close my eyes at night, and wake up in the office. I have learned how to balance my time, and how to break apart my schedule. I have learned the importance of a social life. It is absolutely nessecary to find time with your friends and relax. I've also learned that if you wish to be productive, home is not the best place to do it. When I am home, time slips by so quickly you barely feel it pass. So in order to make the most of my time, I make sure to balance my schedule so that I have personal time to look forward to, social time to look forward to, and productive times as well.
I've learned that in a world where technology is part of my daily life, it is also important to me to get out and have fresh air, and trees. I think I would die without being in a wide open space every once in a while. (Of course, this pertains more to city life).
5. Do you think you would ever want a career in the Foreign Service?#
After researching the careers of Foreign Service Officers in the US State Department, I can't say that I would want that sort of lifestyle- right now. It seems an awful lot like getting married to the government to me, and truth be told, at 20, I'm not crazy about signing my life over to any one thing right now. However, this may change in a couple of years. I guess I'll just wait and see.
Overall, I am grateful for this experience, but I can't help but feeling a little trapped in an office 9-5. I would much prefer something where I didnt have to report to the same place every day for the same hours. I would prefer something a bit more exciting and diverse, where I could interact with people who are glad to see me. For this reason, I would love to teach English abroad. I'm very good at English (fluent, even) and I've always got such a joy out of teaching. I love having something of value to others, and sharing it with them. It just makes me feel valuable and relevant. Validated, I'd say.
So there is a mid-term evaluation of my internship. Not that you care. And not that you read it. hm.
"This was woman herself, with her sudden fears, her irrational whims, her instinctive worries, her impetuous boldness, her fussings, and her delicious sensibility" - Balzac
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Smelly
I write this now, facing a broken TV, with a warm water bottle on my head. I have been sick now since Friday. It is Tuesday, and I can't believe how much time I've spent in this stinky apartment.
I haven't ate anything really, just like some bread and a lot of tea. I have a sinus infection, which I just started antibiotics for. So, soon this will all be a memory.
Also, the fridge smells awful. And 2 of my roommates claim to not smell it at all. Meanwhile, I have not ate any of my food lately, because I believe it has absorbed the smell. Even the eggs. This smell has penetrated EGG SHELLS. It is scarring. Tonight, I will make them throw out their disgusting old food. I simply cannot take this madness anymore. Simple as that. I fear a rat has died in the freezer, for the foul stench is not that of food.
This is what has been happening in my life.
Tomorrow I hope to return to work, after a long weekend of not leaving the house. The infection comes at a much needed time, however, as I was about to sink anyways under all the pressure of this internship, my part-time job, and just life's affairs. I feel like life tackled me down right when I needed it to. Not that this sickness is enjoyable. It is not. I want to get out so badly, to just go to the library. I'm stir crazy, and this smell is driving me out of my house, and killing my appetite.
I'm trying to think of positive things to report. Let's see. Thanksgiving is almost here! I have less than one month until I turn 21! Also, next Monday I will be attending a Tea for Diplomats involved in Cultural Education for Elementary School kids. Next week there are also 2 receptions at the Embassy. One for John Girrard, an Irish artist, and one for author Joseph O'Neill. Should be a grand time.
Meanwhile, I am nursing myself back to health, and dealing with being at home, sans television. Hope this blog is finding you better than it is leaving me.
I haven't ate anything really, just like some bread and a lot of tea. I have a sinus infection, which I just started antibiotics for. So, soon this will all be a memory.
Also, the fridge smells awful. And 2 of my roommates claim to not smell it at all. Meanwhile, I have not ate any of my food lately, because I believe it has absorbed the smell. Even the eggs. This smell has penetrated EGG SHELLS. It is scarring. Tonight, I will make them throw out their disgusting old food. I simply cannot take this madness anymore. Simple as that. I fear a rat has died in the freezer, for the foul stench is not that of food.
This is what has been happening in my life.
Tomorrow I hope to return to work, after a long weekend of not leaving the house. The infection comes at a much needed time, however, as I was about to sink anyways under all the pressure of this internship, my part-time job, and just life's affairs. I feel like life tackled me down right when I needed it to. Not that this sickness is enjoyable. It is not. I want to get out so badly, to just go to the library. I'm stir crazy, and this smell is driving me out of my house, and killing my appetite.
I'm trying to think of positive things to report. Let's see. Thanksgiving is almost here! I have less than one month until I turn 21! Also, next Monday I will be attending a Tea for Diplomats involved in Cultural Education for Elementary School kids. Next week there are also 2 receptions at the Embassy. One for John Girrard, an Irish artist, and one for author Joseph O'Neill. Should be a grand time.
Meanwhile, I am nursing myself back to health, and dealing with being at home, sans television. Hope this blog is finding you better than it is leaving me.
Monday, October 19, 2009
About a year and a half ago, I faced the day where I had to say goodbye to my freshman year of college. I didn't know that day that I would have to say goodbye to some other things in my life too.
The day I moved out of my freshman dorm, I called my boyfriend to help me move the already packed boxes into my car. When he arrived, his eyes were the size of cantalopes and his hands were shaking. I knew then that he had come over not to help me move my boxes, but to move me- out of his life. Looking back now, it was all a bit symbolic. Moving out, moving on.
So, with my heart in pieces on the ground, and my girlfriends surrounding me, I tried to muster the courage to drive back home to Omaha from Lincoln. As I stood outside my door, my friend Kyle Thomas stopped me from lifting what I was lifting. He took all my heavy load, and brought everything to my car. Then it was time for me to go to the car, he lifted me up and brought me there too.
I don't know if he knows how much this meant to me. Or how dear I will always hold that memory. I think some people have it in them to know just what to do, right when it is needed. At that moment, Kyle Thomas was a hero.
And then I think of Max Funkey, scraping the ice off my car at 3 am, because he knew I had to drive in the morning. It was just before Christmas, and again, I was headed home. And without even expecting a thank-you, Max saw me in the parking lot, came out, and grabbed the ice scraper from my hand and started hacking away at the inches of Nebraska ice covered my windshield. Max, he was a hero.
The most recent in my life was sn Italian guy named Andrea, and a Spanish guy named David. Both friends of mine from Denmark. They lived right next to the trainstation, so I stayed at their apartment the night before I left. I was so sad to be leaving. That night, David and Andrea stayed up with me, all night long, battling off the sleep and boughts of sadness. Those last few hours in Aalborg were so surreal. I was able to ward off the sadness, up until the moment I zipped up my bags. Right as the wave of despair hit me, those guys were there. They carried my bags and never stopped smiling. We waited there at the bus stop until the bus came, tears pouring down my face, and they never blinked once. They never made me feel stupid for being so sad. They just hugged me. And waved goodbye. And those are the last faces I saw in Aalborg. The last faces from there I have seen to this day.
And this is the point of the hero- they are with you there, right at the end. While they may not have been the leading men the whole story, at the end, they know how to step in.
I heard a story recently that made all this rush back.
A good friend of mine went through a horrible, horrible situation. Not to invade her privacy, but she was stuck in a situation where she had but one person take care of her. And that one person let her down, gravely.
But then there was a hero. Someone she and I have known since high school. My friend called this guy after maybe years of not speaking. He was located in the same state as her, and was her only hope to get out of this sticky situation. Without question, he came and picked her up. No questions. Just delivery.
What makes a friend a hero? They recognize a call to action. They can recognize hurt. They protect vulnerability. They understand sadness, and treasure privacy. At moments where life has such a propensity to pain, you can consider yourself blessed indeed to find yourself in the company of a hero.
Their sensitivity to the needs of their friends in inspiring, and I hope that, in my years, I can find a way to return all the generosity that has been lavished on me.
The day I moved out of my freshman dorm, I called my boyfriend to help me move the already packed boxes into my car. When he arrived, his eyes were the size of cantalopes and his hands were shaking. I knew then that he had come over not to help me move my boxes, but to move me- out of his life. Looking back now, it was all a bit symbolic. Moving out, moving on.
So, with my heart in pieces on the ground, and my girlfriends surrounding me, I tried to muster the courage to drive back home to Omaha from Lincoln. As I stood outside my door, my friend Kyle Thomas stopped me from lifting what I was lifting. He took all my heavy load, and brought everything to my car. Then it was time for me to go to the car, he lifted me up and brought me there too.
I don't know if he knows how much this meant to me. Or how dear I will always hold that memory. I think some people have it in them to know just what to do, right when it is needed. At that moment, Kyle Thomas was a hero.
And then I think of Max Funkey, scraping the ice off my car at 3 am, because he knew I had to drive in the morning. It was just before Christmas, and again, I was headed home. And without even expecting a thank-you, Max saw me in the parking lot, came out, and grabbed the ice scraper from my hand and started hacking away at the inches of Nebraska ice covered my windshield. Max, he was a hero.
The most recent in my life was sn Italian guy named Andrea, and a Spanish guy named David. Both friends of mine from Denmark. They lived right next to the trainstation, so I stayed at their apartment the night before I left. I was so sad to be leaving. That night, David and Andrea stayed up with me, all night long, battling off the sleep and boughts of sadness. Those last few hours in Aalborg were so surreal. I was able to ward off the sadness, up until the moment I zipped up my bags. Right as the wave of despair hit me, those guys were there. They carried my bags and never stopped smiling. We waited there at the bus stop until the bus came, tears pouring down my face, and they never blinked once. They never made me feel stupid for being so sad. They just hugged me. And waved goodbye. And those are the last faces I saw in Aalborg. The last faces from there I have seen to this day.
And this is the point of the hero- they are with you there, right at the end. While they may not have been the leading men the whole story, at the end, they know how to step in.
I heard a story recently that made all this rush back.
A good friend of mine went through a horrible, horrible situation. Not to invade her privacy, but she was stuck in a situation where she had but one person take care of her. And that one person let her down, gravely.
But then there was a hero. Someone she and I have known since high school. My friend called this guy after maybe years of not speaking. He was located in the same state as her, and was her only hope to get out of this sticky situation. Without question, he came and picked her up. No questions. Just delivery.
What makes a friend a hero? They recognize a call to action. They can recognize hurt. They protect vulnerability. They understand sadness, and treasure privacy. At moments where life has such a propensity to pain, you can consider yourself blessed indeed to find yourself in the company of a hero.
Their sensitivity to the needs of their friends in inspiring, and I hope that, in my years, I can find a way to return all the generosity that has been lavished on me.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Seemingly Insignificant Memorable Moments
For days I have been shivering at the Embassy. I have kept my coat on all day.
Today, I went to the bathroom, and when I returned, a man appeared out of my office dressed in blue jeans. Suddenly I felt the warmth of the heat coming from the dusty register under my window. At last! The heat is turned on!
Every spare moment I get, I just go and stand beside it. And then I realize, I am like my cat. Every year when the heat turns on, she sits on top of the vent on the floor. She hears the heat turning on, and she goes and sits there. Hilarious.
Anyways, today is much more important than the heat turning on! This morning I attended a workshop for the "Embassy Adoption Program" which is a program between the Embassies of DC, and DC Public Schools. The Embassies go into 6th grade classrooms to teach about the culture through music, dancing, food, and language.
I am particuarly excited about this event because I think it will give me good experience for my future career. Since I am interested in International Education, I think this will be great for my resume, not to mention a lot of fun.
So at the meeting, all the diplomats had to go around and introduce themselves (gag). Since I had nothing to say except "I'm an intern," I told the group how when I was in 5th grade, I did a school project on Denmark, and I went on to study there in college. "What you are exposed to when you are a child has a great impact on what your interests will be as an adult" I said. "So, I am excited to be a part of this program." Which is true! But I have to shudder a bit to think of what a Washingtonian I am becoming. Talking about myself, all the time.
Speaking of which, I miss Denmark, and I think I need to shutup about it. I think people are getting annoyed. One of the Danish interns who kind of blew me off at EuroNight was there, and he kind of blew me off again. Nice.
But he doesn't matter at all. For tonight, I am meeting the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Ireland. He's basically Irelands Secretary of State. Basically, Michael Martin is to Ireland what Hillary Clinton is to America. I am very excited about this. I am going to go change into my suit soon, to go over to the residence of the Ambassador, and meet an important person. Life feels....cool.
But I am dreading the walk in the 40 degree weather, where it is pouring rain. So for now, I am going to go warm myself by the heater, and dream of being in my own bed at home, curled up with a cup of tea, and maybe my cat.
Today, I went to the bathroom, and when I returned, a man appeared out of my office dressed in blue jeans. Suddenly I felt the warmth of the heat coming from the dusty register under my window. At last! The heat is turned on!
Every spare moment I get, I just go and stand beside it. And then I realize, I am like my cat. Every year when the heat turns on, she sits on top of the vent on the floor. She hears the heat turning on, and she goes and sits there. Hilarious.
Anyways, today is much more important than the heat turning on! This morning I attended a workshop for the "Embassy Adoption Program" which is a program between the Embassies of DC, and DC Public Schools. The Embassies go into 6th grade classrooms to teach about the culture through music, dancing, food, and language.
I am particuarly excited about this event because I think it will give me good experience for my future career. Since I am interested in International Education, I think this will be great for my resume, not to mention a lot of fun.
So at the meeting, all the diplomats had to go around and introduce themselves (gag). Since I had nothing to say except "I'm an intern," I told the group how when I was in 5th grade, I did a school project on Denmark, and I went on to study there in college. "What you are exposed to when you are a child has a great impact on what your interests will be as an adult" I said. "So, I am excited to be a part of this program." Which is true! But I have to shudder a bit to think of what a Washingtonian I am becoming. Talking about myself, all the time.
Speaking of which, I miss Denmark, and I think I need to shutup about it. I think people are getting annoyed. One of the Danish interns who kind of blew me off at EuroNight was there, and he kind of blew me off again. Nice.
But he doesn't matter at all. For tonight, I am meeting the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Ireland. He's basically Irelands Secretary of State. Basically, Michael Martin is to Ireland what Hillary Clinton is to America. I am very excited about this. I am going to go change into my suit soon, to go over to the residence of the Ambassador, and meet an important person. Life feels....cool.
But I am dreading the walk in the 40 degree weather, where it is pouring rain. So for now, I am going to go warm myself by the heater, and dream of being in my own bed at home, curled up with a cup of tea, and maybe my cat.
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