Saying goodbye at the end of an internship with stellar comrades can be difficult. What form of catharsis, you ask, can remedy such a situation when the final night has at last come upon you?
1. The overindulgence of calorie-packed goodness, in its many forms.
2. Exerting one's station as an Attorney General Intern, by parading around the capitol as an unaffiliated nonentity at the heart of a major protest against an open-government bill.
3. Loitering around the CCJJ meeting rooms and House and Senate Chambers, for a final chance to converse with Legislators and picnic with Lobbyists {the sane ones}.
3. Watching movies in the office.
4. High couture (and some less-than-high-couture) photo shoots.
5. Feebly excuses to return again next week, with the promise of future political projects together.
5. Feebly excuses to return again next week, with the promise of future political projects together.
6. Being a part of the culmination of Floor Time, with a few final bills to pass before midnight, as well as the after-party that involves a display of various legislative musical and comedic talent. Speaker Becky Lockhart concluded with a summation of her opening speech:
And so I encourage lively, energetic and passionate debate. I invite principled stands and the expression of deeply held convictions. I encourage you to be advocates and allies. But above all I encourage you to be statesmen and stateswomen. Because whether you find yourself soaring from victory or grounded in defeat, remember that the people who surround you in this chamber are your colleagues, your friends, your legislative family. We’ll have our differing points of view -- but never forget the bonds that unite us to work for policies that benefit the people of Utah. This Capitol and the legislative process will continue long after we are gone, but for this moment we serve together as Utah Representatives within these hallowed walls. It is our obligation to craft the policy and appropriate a budget that is best for the citizens of our great State.
7. Dawdling to my car at 3 a.m. in my bare feet, with those blasted, lovely heels I've worn for 18 hours in hand, seeking to preserve forever the memory of one grand experience as I take one last glance at her majesty the capitol through my rearview mirror; blow her a kiss; and turn the music up as I drive away.
7. Dawdling to my car at 3 a.m. in my bare feet, with those blasted, lovely heels I've worn for 18 hours in hand, seeking to preserve forever the memory of one grand experience as I take one last glance at her majesty the capitol through my rearview mirror; blow her a kiss; and turn the music up as I drive away.
© 2011 by Rachel Lowry. All rights Reserved.
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