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...political bubble, however, disappears as soon as I leave the office and head for my temporary home. There, the realities of a carless college student's life set in. I leave for work when my driver does; I don’t come home until an intern with car keys can. I have learned to buy just enough supplies at Target to get me through the week, and I have given up all hope of exploring the Twin Cities at my leisure. Instead, we plan ahead: Trips to the lake are proposed a week in advance, dinner plans are decided...
...intersession trip to New York, I discovered Pinkberry. On a trip to Miami, I ran across Blissberry. And a few weeks ago, I gave Red Mango a try and watched as a fellow intern innocuously asked an employee about the Pinkberry across the street...
Each day, my ride starts at the Winston Group, a Republican polling firm whose motto is “making ideas matter.” As an intern, I’ve learned that ideas are stubborn little things, which require hours of staring at spreadsheets to matter. But we’re making them for an important client, the GOP. With polls and focus groups, we help our candidates hear people’s concerns: gas prices, health care, jobs. What’s more, we’re honing a new message for Republicans to send voters...
...state of Tennessee. Though she has been in New York since she graduated three years ago (making her an exception among her college and high school friends, who often remain in the South), she retains the smiling, friendly demeanor so characteristic of her native region. As our barely older intern coordinator, she dances the line between protective and authoritative—still unable to resist updates on the inevitable intern gossip and drama. Like many of us, she does not hesitate to tell P.D. exactly when he's being ridiculous. Though at times this causes her to slip from...
...higher-ups on the floor is N.W. Unlike the majority of her office-dwelling peers, N.W.'s phone calls are audible, and she stands outside her door to chat loudly with coworkers. After giving the first presentation of the summer to our intern class, she loudly gabbed to a friend about the eager (read: brown-nosing and naïve) young interns, realizing only moments later that I was sitting 10 feet away. When N.W. noticed me, she smiled disarmingly, introduced herself, shook my hand, and moved right on. She can be cloying when she wants but appears to have...