Bittersweet day, readers.
After 91 days, 18 hours, and 53 minutes, I am finally hanging up my cape; my superhero alter ego, The Intern, is finally retiring from her life of heroic shenanigans for good…unless of course a Help Wanted ad appears for the Avengers. Because if there is one thing their dynamic is missing, it’s a sassy B-average college student, with pacifistic ideals and the ability to write mega ultra good occasionally. Your move, Captain America.
I’m saying goodbye to my corner desk at the Boise Weekly headquarters today and I am actually quite sad about it. This place has been more amazing than I could possibly express. I have learned so much the last few months, from some of the most talented writers in Idaho, and I feel insanely fortunate. Never once did I have to get coffee for the bosses—they actually got me coffee a few times. And food. Lots of food. I think I played the “poor college student” card too much and they were concerned for my well-being. Best of all, they’ve offered me an official invitation to freelance for them over the summer; basically, in the fast, gritty world of journalism, freelancers aren’t officially on the payroll, but they can submit stories anytime they want (and, best of all, they get paid for their pieces). This means that I can basically do the exact same job I have been doing for months, only I get a nice paycheck after I send my work in. Which is important for someone who needs to offset their aforementioned “poor college student” status (Taco Bell ain’t cheap, kids. Well… it is…but it adds up very quickly).
My internship here has easily been one of the coolest experiences of my life. I went into it with this kind of ho-hum attitude, almost like it was a punishment (because I needed to do it in order to graduate). But then, I began embracing my superhero persona, The Intern. I got to interview some fascinating people, go to some extraordinary events, and become a better writer.
So, yeah, I’m a little sad to see it go.
But, as we all learned the hard way with Firefly and William Henry Harrison’s presidency, all good things have to end (side note: the political views expressed in this blog are representative of the individual, not of the entire College. That being said, #harrison5ever).
Moving on to less politically charged matters, this week has been INSANE. Predictably. We’re less than a week from finals and everyone is just kind of crying, either literally or metaphorically (remember that, readers: crying is a state of mind, not always a literal action. College taught me that). I have 3 massive papers due before Monday, all of which are in various stages of “not done”. Last night, I was set to complete 3 full pages of my one paper, but I got distracted by being a rock star and all. Not really, but whatever. I’m referring to my creative non-fiction writing class doing a public reading in McCain Student Center. It was nerve-wracking, yet exciting—my palms were sweaty, my knees were weak, and my arms were heavy (I make Eminem references because I like to appeal to the youth. I’m hip!) but I needn’t be nervous. It went great. My best friends showed up to support me and I’d practiced so much, I knew my essay better than I knew myself. I was quite proud of it; we all were, really. Everyone in the class had worked our butts off and the final products turned out great.
That’s it for me today, readers. It’s crunch time over here and I’m running out of time to procrastinate further. I’ve been blaring “The Final Countdown” for about 26 hours straight at this point, in hopes to motivate me to finish my assignments. So far, it hasn’t been successful.
Until next week,
Ashley A. Miller
Ashley is a sophomore Creative Writing major from Payette, Idaho.