#hashtagforeverything – RGADC

There was a time when the hashtag was still merely a pound sign.  Now though, hashtags permeate the minds of the millennial generation. Not only do they appear on phone screens, but they also worm their way into conversation. I’d say I think of them because I’m a social media intern, but that’s not really true. There’s just a #hashtagforeverything.

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Here are some highlighted hashtags from the trip so far:

#ShouldaGoneWithGaston

  • This is my personal favorite, and the hashtag I use by far the most frequently. My friend and I were on the way back from Evita on the metro when a handsome man walked up to us and asked for the bathroom. Of course, there was no bathroom, so he stayed and talked to us while we waited fifteen minutes for the next train. His name was Gaston, he was Chilean, and he spent a lot of time trying to persuade us to go dancing with him. But on a Thursday night after a show with work on Friday? I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I’m supposed to make the most of this time in my life; I’m supposed to go out dancing with a hot Chilean man on a Thursday night if I have the chance. But I didn’t because I wanted to sleep. I regretted it as soon as I got home. Still think I #shouldago    newithgaston.

#AOTUSlol

  • AOTUS = Archivist of the United States, a position appointed by the President. The current Archivist is David Ferriero, and he’s basically in charge of everything Archives. He also makes really good pancakes (with chocolate chips). He’s kind of like our governmental celebrity here. Every now and then he’ll walk past our desks or our education center and we’ll all exchange looks and make a big fuss over the AOTUS. “He waved at me!” etc. The actual hashtag though came from a misread text but it felt fitting. #aotuslol

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(That one time the AOTUS made us breakfast. It was such an important moment.)

#TheBradyBunch

  • Tier 1, as my friend group jokingly calls each other, has been hanging out since week one. It’s a little bit of an odd concoction of friends, and we willingly adopt anyone who comes our way, so our numbers fluctuate a lot. But it’s a comfortable friend group and feels so natural. Early on in our DC stay, we were eating at a hole-in-the-wall taqueria when a man, who we suspect may have been homeless, came up to us and told us “we looked like the f—ing Brady Bunch.” He proceeded to name us all after the characters and never asked our actual names. I was Carol Brady and my lovely friend Joachim was deemed my Mike. For about thirty minutes he just stayed and told us story after story, suggesting bars, and only ever calling us by our Brady Bunch names. I could barely understand him, but it was one of the most entertaining and strange encounters I have ever had. We never saw him again, but we all walked away afterward happily singing The Brady Bunch theme song. “That’s the way we became #thebradybunch!”

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(Some of the “Brady Bunch” [Tier 1] at Halloween. I’m trying not to smile, since it messed up my makeup, but that’s really hard when you’re having fun.)

#JournalLikeJefferson

  • Did you know Jefferson journaled daily about the weather conditions? Yeah, well we didn’t either, but our boss at the Archives is a wealth of information. He wrote the weather in his journal consistently and continuously. For fifty years. He recorded and studied meteorology  That’s commitment. Have a daily habit? Really, I need to write more every day. A set word count or the like. Maybe I’ll finally start the habit and #journallikejefferson.

#InternHell

  • There are a couple things we’ve been warned not to do as interns, primarily to never think any job is below us. However, if any of us mess up, we joke that we are going to #internhell. “Was that you who jammed the printer? #internhell.” “Don’t fall asleep on the job. #internhell.” You get the idea. Some interns in the program have really bad experiences, but our supervisors are very understanding and forgiving. So, thankfully, #internhell remains a joke alone.

#TexasTakeOver

We’re contagious. Apparently. A Texan in DC is hilarious to begin with. We are fascinated every time it rains. I’m praying to see at least one snow here. The changing leaves are mesmerizing, and apparently they aren’t even as beautiful here as they are other places. We also rub our “y’all”s off on the people around us. Honestly, I think I use it more now that I’m away from Texas than I did before. It’s as if I’m honoring my home by sticking to my “y’all”s. Now our friends have caught themselves on a y’all every now and then. We make a grand joke about “y’all” scaring strangers away. We just can’t help it. It’s almost like we get into their heads. It’s a full-out #texastakeover!

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(But really, look at those leaves. Everything turns brown so fast in Texas.)

Truth be told, I really am missing Texas right now. I will desperately miss DC when I leave, since I’ve really fallen in love with living in this city. But I’m missing my home – especially in the midst of NaNoWriMo when I want so badly to be writing with everyone there. Of course, I know once I get there, I’ll miss everyone here, like #thebradybunch. It’s sad to have one such wonderful, but busy, semester, and then see everyone disperse at the end of it. Now there’s only a month left, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. I don’t want my time here to end, but I also can’t wait to be home. This semester has been incredible, but there is only so much time left to it.

So I’ll leave you with one more hashtag that’s both sad and hopeful: #behomesoon.

History and Interests for All – RGADC

Why should I go to Washington? Freshman Renee thought. There’s nothing for me there.

At the time, I was a theatre education major who really just wanted to bring stories to life. In fact, I didn’t even want the educator part tacked on to my degree. Since then my motivations haven’t changed, only my methods. I still bring stories to life, only by writing them instead of performing them. Yet, when I thought of this internship opportunity Freshman year, I wouldn’t have seen myself here because I couldn’t imagine where I’d be placed.

What were they going to do? Set me to acting on a street corner to gain experience in my field?

But, oh, how wrong I was. There is something for everyone in DC. Especially for a few majors who rarely take advantage of it, but definitely should.

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(Beauty at the Kennedy Center, the gem of the city for a thespian.)

Theatre/Music/Arts Major:

I’ll start with this because I have experience here. My good friend here in DC was stationed at the Kennedy Center for her internship. Granted, she does the business side of work at the theater, which is to be expected, and is also very important to be familiar with. Still, she has had the opportunity to attend Evita for a discounted price, the upcoming opera La Boheme for free, and has met famous names and headliners in various art fields. Additionally, there are free musical, comedy, or dance performances every night at 6, in case you don’t get your fill of art solely on the events you get to see.

Not to mention, the arts are all over DC. Last weekend was art-all-night. Literally a night full of arts and beautiful things. Also, the other night my friends attended a party for upcoming playwrights hoping to get their works performed on stage. If I’d stuck with theater, these opportunities would have thrilled me, regardless of whether or not I was acting.

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(Don’t even get me started on the beautiful art galleries we have here. Cochran, pictured above, just closed for remodeling, but there are so many other wonderful things to see as well, like the Portrait Gallery pictured below.)

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Education Major:

I feel that this internship is a missed opportunity for many education majors. There are so many options that would be exciting experiences. One of the first internships I interviewed for was at 826DC, a non-profit that works with students to make writing fun and interesting. It would have been perfect for an education major. Or maybe having a job at the Department of Education, like my friend has, would be a good fit. Even my internship has aspects of education as much as we work with educating the public about NARA’s functionality and our holdings here. We even work a Constitution exploration lab with school groups that come in, which is way cooler than anything I got to do as a student on field trips.

Except maybe for that one trip we did to the Dr. Pepper factory where we invented, marketed, and bottled our own brand of soda. I still insist that Zip Zap would have been a big hit. And it’s still my favorite fictional soda.

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(Another Capitol picture? I see it every day. All roads lead to the Capitol.)

Political/History/Law/Criminal Justice Major:

Okay, but do I really need to explain this one? It’s Washington, D.C.

Sports Nerds:

The Nat’s recent loss was a tragedy for the city, and I don’t even call myself a baseball fan.

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(But it was fun to see a game with friends!)

Party Scene:

I won’t touch on this much. We’re all upstanding students here at TWC, for the most part (I’ve heard horror stories), but just know that there is one. If that appeals to people.

Foodies:

There’s a Potbelly’s on almost every corner. But that’s not necessarily what I mean. There are so many unique food places here. I wish I could try every restaurant in Chinatown, especially the Wok and Roll place that used to be the Surratt boarding house. We’ve got the big name places like the Cheesecake Factory, which I love. It’s not cheap, but their menu is incredible. The miso salmon is to die for. And dare I mention the one and only, Georgetown Cupcakes? Which I still haven’t had, but hear only the highest praise about.

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(Because if I’m going to be here, I may as well eat in the place where Lincoln’s assassin and his cohorts met to take down the Union.)

Non-Profits and Causes:

There are places to serve everywhere. My roommates internship works with the homeless population of DC. This is where policy is made. Where better to make a policy change than here in DC, be it in education, animal welfare, or Title IX?

Sciency Stuff:

Because, let’s face it, there’s a Smithsonian for everything. And plenty of other places too.

Foreign Students:

Foreign affairs is a big market for internships. A lot of the foreign students I’ve met have loved spending time in the US, while also working in something applicable for them to take away.

And Every American:

I believe, even if none of the above appeal to you, that you could find something here to love, without even looking too hard. I also believe that every American should have the chance to visit D.C. as the heart of the country. A power resides in the city, an ongoing heartbeat that drives the country to action. This is history. This is present. This is the future of America. Seeing Arlington is powerful. Seeing the Capitol, Supreme Court, and Library of Congress is powerful. Seeing the Constitution is so powerful. I see it every day, and it never gets old.

I refuse to take my country for granted, regardless of if I agree with a person in Congress, or back a law that is passed. The United States of America is a wonderful, desirable place to live. There are flaws, but there will always be flaws. This is no utopia, and it shouldn’t be. We learned that from The Hunger Games, and other dystopian fiction novels. So admittedly, I have that Key song in my heart, beating with the city, and playing with the pride of being a part of this for a semester.

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(She is eternal – long before nation’s were drawn. When no flag flew, when no armies stood my land was born… Don’t mind that this is a song from Chess and is actually about Russia. It’s still beautiful.)

To Be Both Tourist and Guide – RGADC

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(She’s my mom; she’s my best friend; we’re silly.)

When I first arrived, my impression of D.C. was “white.” The Washington Monument. The Lincoln Memorial. The Capitol. And the most obvious: The White House. All white. All pure and symbolic.

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(As my Nana pointed out, Washington D.C. is powerful. It is impressive. It is timeless.)

As a sucker for symbolism, I shouldn’t be surprised that I love the city as much as I do. And I do love it. I get a thrill when I so much as look at the buildings out the window. And I knew this would be my adventure. I knew I would have the time of my life. I wasn’t even nervous or afraid.

I still didn’t expect living here to come so naturally.

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(Though I do still miss and am loyal to Texas.)

History was one of my strongest subjects in school, second only to English. I know the gist. I remember the gist. The things I’ve learned and retained since arriving in D.C. go deeper than the subjects taught in school. D.C. is built by the personality of history, not just the facts. That personality is visible everywhere: Watergate, the Smithsonians, the Eisenhower Executive Building, the Blair-Lee House, the Kennedy Center, etc.

In the first week I was here, my supervisors at the Archives and the professors at TWC all spouted off information as naturally as leaves change for fall. I never thought I’d be able to do that. Hearing them talk made me aspire to learn more. Maybe someday, I’d be a wealth of information to others, and I could summon it as needed for books, stories, and projects.

I just didn’t expect that to actually happen.

When Mom told me over the phone that she and Nana would join me in D.C. for the annual TWC gala, I was overjoyed. Mom is coming back with the rest of my immediate family for Thanksgiving, but this past weekend was Nana’s chance to see the city. We made the most of our girl’s getaway with every second.

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(We crammed a lot of sightseeing into three days.)

Except, even though we went to several places I’d never seen before (like the Vietnam memorial and Arlington cemetery), I didn’t feel like a tourist. The transition has been so smooth, so natural. I feel like a part of D.C. and I’ve only been here a month now. I feel like it’s my city, even though it isn’t. I think I take a piece of every place I’ve been as my own – Austin, Chiang Mai, and now D.C. – to keep in my heart.

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(Speaking of D.C. being powerful, the memorials here seal the deal.)

And I’ve done that in only a month. Walking around Lafayette Square, and even the National Mall, I felt more like Mom and Nana’s pocket tour guide than a tourist. I talked their ears off with random facts and tidbits on just about everything we passed. I also got tasked with all navigation, but that’s only halfway because I know my way around D.C. and halfway because I know how to work Google Maps effectively on a smartphone.

It got even worse when we reached the National Archives portion of our trip. We spent around an hour in the museum portion of the building as I pointed out my favorite documents and exhibits. I rattled off facts about our holdings, the Constitution, and the location of the nearest bathroom. All were things that I didn’t even realize I knew so well until I was given a time to share them.

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(Also, I’d never been in the Constitution Avenue entrance to the Archives before, so that was new.)

Really, I worried that my trove of trivia tid-bits on D.C. would drive them crazy, but they insist that they enjoyed it. I hope so. It felt good to share what I’ve learned. A lot of these stories are so cool, but history textbooks never touch them. I’d have been fascinated to learn about Dolley Madison in high school. Especially since, apparently, we’re related to her? So Nana says. Which is pretty darn cool.

No matter where I go from here, the personality of history will stick with me. The names and places never mentioned in a classroom, but that meant so much to this country and to me here, won’t go forgotten. I never expected to feel so natural here, but I am so glad I do. Being a part of D.C. is truly a beautiful thing.

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(But no matter how much I love living here, I’ll still desperately miss these lovely ladies.)

Everything in D.C. is Haunted – RGADC

Here’s a fun challenge: take a stroll around Lafayette Square as the sunlight wanes, and peer into every uncovered window. There is a ghost in every single one of them. Everywhere in D.C. is haunted: Lafayette Square, Georgetown, the White House. And why shouldn’t the White House be haunted? Imagine all of the tragedies, injustices, and scandals that have plagued politicians who have stepped foot in the White House. So of course those ghosts would lurk in the nooks and crannies of the Oval Office.

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(The Obama family and I are close, personal friends. You just can’t tell by this picture.)

I don’t plan get into an argument over the existence of the supernatural. That can be interpreted many ways and is not the point of this post.

So when I say ghost, I mean a different ghost than the sheets floating around on Halloween or the vengeful spirits in horror films. Ghosts, by definition, are shades of the dead. Again, I won’t argue whether these shades are real or not. But the dead always leave behind a legacy, an imprint, of their lives. Whether this imprint exists in their lineage, their contributions, their photographs or families, etc. something of theirs remains with the living.

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(Imagine seeing the faces hidden behind these panes.)

These are their ghosts.

These are their remnants.

These are their stories.

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(Seriously every place I walk by looks beautiful, including the Blair-Lee House.)

One of the best realizations I’ve had in D.C. is that I am standing in the middle of history. The argument could be made that everything has history, and it’s true. We just don’t know what it is. Washington’s history, though, is the history of textbooks that we’ve been made to study in classrooms for years. This is a place of famous history, remembered history, and infamous history.

For instance, I can see a play anywhere, any time. But there’s something incredible about having tickets to see one performed at Ford’s Theater. It’s powerful, and rather eerie to sit yards from where Lincoln was shot and killed. Then to see the home of Major Rathbone, who was stabbed in his attempts to apprehend Booth in the moments following the assassination, lost his mind, possibly because he was haunted by the assassination, and attacked his children. When his wife tried to protect them, he shot and fatally stabbed her before stabbing himself multiple times, almost recreating the moment Booth had escaped that day. His family didn’t escape the scars, even once he was sent to a mental asylum to live out the rest of his life. His daughter broke down in the following years, and she, too, was sent to a mental asylum.

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(The Octagon House may be one of the most haunted places in D.C. after surviving multiple tragedies and the devastations of war.)

Walking down the street and seeing the styles of architecture change is impressive in itself. Houses rich with history are preserved, kept carefully maintained so that their relevance is never lost. Like the Octagon House, owned by the Tayloes, where First Lady Dolley Madison found sanctuary when the British burned the White House during the War of 1812. She lit candles in the windows when she received news of the war’s end. However, the house has more dark history. Two of Tayloe’s daughters “tripped” and fell down the stairs to their deaths, only a few years apart. Perhaps this is coincidence, though I suspect murder. Supposedly, their apparitions haunt the second and third floor staircases and landings. The thuds of their falls can be heard during the nights, and one daughter still hums to herself as she forlornly wanders the house.

My academic course this semester is called Scandalous Washington, and our focus is to explore the history of political scandals, tragedies, and mysteries that have befallen the city since it was built. We’ve been able to tour several places thus far, but there are still so many stories to see. If it involved espionage, murder, suicide, slavery, scandals, or (best of all) hauntings, chances are we’ll discuss it and visit it this semester. The above stories are only some of the things we’ve studied in just two weeks of class.

But there’s so much more. Like the murder of Mary Pinchot Meyer that we discussed while walking down to Georgetown’s waterfront. She was killed in 1964 by two gunshots at point blank range. Which wouldn’t have been quite such a scandalous event, had she not been a popular socialite. Which still would have died down quickly, had she not been killed only a year after her lover, John F. Kennedy was shot in Dallas, Texas. Maybe she knew too much? Maybe it was a cover up? After all, her diary was never found.

Or The Exorcist stairs featured in the 1973 movie? We saw those, and the house where the story was set. They’re in Georgetown. I’ve never seen the movie, and, frankly, I don’t plan to, but the exorcism case of Roland Doe, on which the movie was based, was included in our class. Especially since the movie was filmed in part at the Catholic Georgetown University, (scandal!) which ordinarily would not acknowledge or condone the practice of exorcisms.

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(Nowadays the stairs are used mostly for exercising, since they’re killer steep.)

Whether you believe you could actually glimpse the apparitions of Clara Rathbone, or the Tayloe girls, or even Dolley Madison, who apparently can be glimpsed in multiple locations all over D.C. since she didn’t party nearly enough while she was alive, their ghosts are still there. We remember their stories, no matter how horrible or tragic. We have allowed the ghosts of the past to stay in our thoughts and memories, because they were important in shaping our present. A ghost doesn’t have to be a tangible spirit. A ghost can be a memory; a ghost can be thought; a ghost can be an instant.

All of these can be found across Washington D.C. because the past is so rich here. And since history spawns ghosts, everything in D.C. is haunted. And since history is made every second, there will always be more for me to see.

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(The iconic clock tower of Healy Hall at Georgetown University, built circa 1879.)

I Signed the Declaration of Independence – RGADC

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(Hello, internship! How do I look?)

When my Mimi first asked what I would be doing at my internship, I proudly told her – in the words made famous by Nicholas Cage: “I’m going to steal the Declaration of Independence.” Which elicited a look of horror from her.

Of course, I won’t actually steal the Declaration in my time here.

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(But I sure can try!)

I’ll be too busy keeping up with everything else that’s going on. And, honestly, who would want to steal the Declaration anyway? How could that end up going remotely well? I’d hate to be the person caught selling it on the black market. America would call for a lynching. For that matter, what poor idiot would buy the thing?

But while I wouldn’t hang the Declaration of Independence on my wall, I sure love walking by and looking at it any day I choose. It is beautiful. It is powerful. It is something else. Things like this get me goofily excited about history.

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(What I wouldn’t give to have my signature immortalized. Oh, look!)

In fact, the whole internship gets me goofily excited about history. Specifically, I work in the Department of Education and Public Programming. We ensure that visitors gain the most from their experience at the National Archives. We have a center, called the Boeing Learning Center, open from 10 – 4 every day. For one thing, it’s the only space in the museum where photography is allowed (see above photo of me with the Declaration). Secondly, we have access to over 1,000 facsimiles of documents for the public to peruse. These include state specific records, the Zimmerman telegram, the Articles of Confederation, and more. Fun fact: the Articles are sewn together on parchment that reaches 13 feet in length.

See how much I’m learning? Everyone here retains incredible amounts of information; I don’t feel like they get enough credit for their hard work. Maybe by the end of the semester I’ll be able to accurately point someone to a cool document in their home state and detail its history. Realistically though, I doubt I’ll be as incredible as my supervisor. In my efforts though, I plan to explore the files thoroughly to familiarize myself with them.

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(Doesn’t everyone here seem so nice? They are.)

I’ve felt insanely well-welcomed. The first week focused primarily on orientation, but as we get into this next week, we will begin to delve into our personal projects. Already I have a deadline for a huge blog post that I’ll be compiling over the next few weeks.

Writing with social media allows me to expand my flexibility within my field. Certainly so far it’s been very different than the writing I’m accustomed to: creative writing, personal blogging, and journalistic. This is interpretive writing. While I hope I can adjust quickly, I’m glad I can step out of my comfort zone and learn to write in various ways.

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(Did I mention the gorgeous building?)

And I’m learning a ton on top of that. I can’t express how valuable it is for visitors at the Archives to experience some of our holdings hands-on. Even if its a copy, there’s a different feel to it than looking through a pane of glass. Everyone should make a stop at the Learning Center, if at least to see the specific documents from their state. For me already it has made the experience here much more valuable.

Really, everything here is incredible. In the Archives. In the Washington Center. And in D.C. in general. Let’s get excited about America!

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(Our banner yet waves.)

Also, on a slightly unrelated note, there are presidents everywhere I turn in D.C. They’re at work, they’re on memorials, they’re on tv (since I’ve had to watch Scandal and House of Cards since arriving). They even made an appearance at the Nationals game on Sunday. And as awesome as that was, it was also a little frightening. Let’s get excited about America?

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(Say hi to Teddy and George! Maybe we’re getting too excited now?)

First Things First – RGADC

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(The first glimpse of the city out the window of the plane.)

True to form, the very first thing I did when I arrived in D.C. was get sick.

It wasn’t a terrible illness, but the cold put quite the damper on my orientation experience. I slept far more than I was awake, which is very unlike me. And imagine my dismay that my first impression on my roommates was snotty, sneezy, and sleepy!

First impressions are crucial in forming an attitude with which to face the year. Thankfully, the first impression D.C. made on me was close to perfect. I had to fight through the illness to get out and do anything, but even when I was stuck in the apartment, I was basking in the city. I enjoyed every second (even the ones I slept through) just because I’m here.

And I’ve still managed to get in a number of “firsts.”

– I’ve been to the national mall for the first time. I didn’t feel remotely like a tourist. Actually, I felt like I belonged there. It was so natural, so expected. Every time I look out a window, really, I feel like I belong here. I’m living here and working here for 15 weeks. I’m no tourist; I’m a part of the city.

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(Guess where I’m spending a semester. Just guess.)

– I’ve already seen my first rain. And my second, for that matter. We’ve been warned to keep an umbrella on us at all times (and I’ve felt super classy carrying my new umbrella from H&M). I keep watching the rain with an awe that no one seems to understand, especially if they see rain all the time. But hey – rain is a powerful thing, and we don’t see much of it in Texas.

– I love the first impression I’ve gotten of my roommates. Katie and I share one bedroom, while Aki and Jasmin are in the other. They are fantastic girls, so nice and so understanding, and I hope to get to know them better as the semester goes on. Maybe next weekend, I’ll actually be able to go out and grab dinner with them.

– I’ve had my first soda since giving them up. This is a little disappointing, since I only gave them up less than a week ago, but Sprite is my self-proclaimed cure-all. Cold, stomach ache, or you name it, and Sprite will make me feel better. Of course, I rarely touch it unless I’m sick. So, other than a few glasses of Sprite, I’ve been doing fairly well on the soda front.

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(My last soda before giving them up.)

– I’ve ridden the metro for the first time and feel like a pro. I am confident that I could find my way around D.C. in a heartbeat. The iTrans app helps, telling me exactly what trains to take. The system just isn’t as complicated as I expected it to be, so I’ve just stayed confident and walked. Plus, I love the feeling I get of just being a part of that flow: so professional, so adult, and so active.

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(The metro: hot, muggy, but thrilling.)

– And speaking of adult and professional, I’ve had my first day of course programming. The greatest thing about it though, was that we were treated like adults. We were required to go for our course programming, and, though our coordinator gave us directions, he let us go entirely on our own. Being treated like an adult instead of a student is a refreshing breath of air. I’m about to face the world on my own, more or less, and I need to know how to do that. Having that precedent set early on, makes me excited for the responsibility the year will hold. (Silly, right?)

– Then there was my first event. After staying in bed basically since I arrived, I finally got out for the annual Labor Day concert. I only expect to be in D.C. this one Labor Day and the opportunity was too good to pass up. And I was right; it was totally worth the effort. The music (which included numerous patriotic pieces, Broadway, Beatles, and more) really warmed my heart. After the night as over, I felt pretty dizzy, but I was desperate to get out, and I am so glad I had.

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(If this is beautiful,the music was so much more so.)

Then there are the firsts I have not had yet.

– First day at the National Archives (though orientation is tomorrow).
– First meeting of our Civic Engagement project (and I have yet to find out what it is).
– First day of class (which will also be tomorrow).
– First brunch with the President (which I will probably never have).

But, of course, I’ll be sure to keep you posted on my adventures as they come, firsts or otherwise.

Preparing for the Adventure – RGADC

Clothes are littered around the floor of my room, patches of overgrown weeds that seem to get larger with every hour. Shoeboxes stack a mile high in the corner of the room. Then there are the folded clothes, judgmentally sitting alone on the bed. They know they are better than the mess on the floor. They know they are first pick to be placed in the waiting suitcases. They know they get to go to Washington D.C. on my next greatest adventure.

This. This is the packing process.

All the piles of clothes really do have a purpose. There’s a pile to take with me, a pile to maybe take with me, a pile to donate, and a pile to get rid of altogether. The process is the hard part. And the scary part. Every pile signifies something left to do before I leave for my adventure this fall.
To be fair, though, every pile also signifies something that I’ve completed. I’ve gone shopping. I’ve combed through my closet. I’ve updated my wardrobe. Every step of the process takes me closer to D.C.

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(Let’s face it: I needed an update.)

My college wardrobe valued comfort over class. Sweatpants and t-shirts were preferable in the freezing classrooms, especially when class included essays or lectures. Sure, I dressed nicely when going to church on the weekends. Yes, I had cute clothes in the closet for those special date nights. Of course, I made an effort to be presentable when I was at work. Overall though, my wardrobe did not make the cut for business professional. Or anything business, really.

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(The shoes can make it or break it.)

So the shoes stacked in the corner are my new dress shoes. The folded clothes on the bed are my new blazers and suits. Even my casual wear has gotten a fashionable update. Once I take that pile of clothes to the donation center, my closet will be complete. New outfits will prepare me for my internship, but also for the professional world beyond – a world that I need to prepare for, since I’ll be thrown into it all too soon.

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(Presenting… my updated adventure attire.)

Adventure attire? Check.

But the closet purge is only part of the battle, and the clothes will only fill so much suitcase space. There are still so many things I need to be sure to take:

– A lint roller, because white fuzz somehow becomes magnetically attracted to black fabric.

– Tide To-Go? That ketchup stain becomes all too obvious on a tan suit.

– My DVD player. I can go without movies for four months, easy, but they do provide a good way to get to know new friends and roommates.

– An umbrella and rain boots, I suppose. I’m from Texas; I don’t even know what rain looks like.

– My iPad, since the modern world practically revolves around technology.

– I’d say books, but with all the reading I’d want to do, my books would fill up a suitcase all on their own. I’ll stick with my Kindle.

– Brand new (and comfortable) walking shoes, so I can walk the streets of D.C. in style. And without blisters.

– A pen and some paper. Inspiration may strike me on the subway, and I’ll need some way to write it down. (Fun tip: if you want to keep a writer entertained, hand her a simple pen and paper.)

– My journal. I’ll want to keep every memory preserved somehow, so I can look back on it later. So I can really learn from the whole experience.

Then there’s my backpack. Indiana Jones always carried his satchel, so I took a page from his book. It’ll probably carry some of the aforementioned essentials that don’t make it into my suitcase. It will hold my journal, my iPad, my Kindle, a pen and paper. It will contain everything that I really do need with me. The necessities of a writer, an intern, and an adventurer. Except a whip. Thanks Indiana, but I’ll probably be able to face my brand of adventure without that one.

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(The real adventure necessities.)

Adventure accessories? Check.

Now all that’s left is to actually let the adventure begin!

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(Washington D.C., here I come.)