Daddy's Day

Happy Daddy's Day! Especially to my daddy! He is all kinds of grand and wonderful.

You know, since I started this blog, I often get asked the question, "Does your dad really call you Bruce?" The answer is, "Yes, indeed. He sure does." That is always followed up with "Why Bruce?" Well, here is the reason as I remember. My dad might have a different version of the tale, but this is the origin of my nickname according to me:

When I was but a wee young cherub, I was very good at stalling when it was time to go anywhere. One of the more common ways I approached this was by delaying putting on my shoes until the last possible moment. This usually led my dad to serenade me with a chorus of "Put your Shoes of Lucy" (which, for the record, I think was a very civil way to approach the situation rather than just losing his patience at me). I, of course, having not yet fully developed my keen sense of musical metaphor, would respond with something along the lines of, "Dad, My name is not LUCY!" So my dad would change the name to Ducy or Goosey or Brucey. And somehow Brucey stuck. I have been Bruce ever since. I don't know if I was the first victim of the rhyming name game my dad always plays, but I was certainly not the last. I think Kelly will always be Smelly to him.

If you are unfamiliar with the song, I have provided the music for your listening pleasure:

My nickname is certainly not the only thing my father has bequeathed upon me. My green eyes may have come from my momma, but I'm pretty sure most of me came from my dad. This list includes (but is not limited to):

1. My Winning Smile If only I had a picture of him smiling to show you just how accurate this is.

2. My brilliant mind. My dad used to be a rocket scientist you know. For reals! He used science to build rockets! Professionally! How many of you can say that?! I daresay, few. I'm also pretty sure I've never had to use the phrase, "Come on, it's not rocket science" with my dad. He pretty much knows everything. A few years ago he went back to school just because he wanted to. He done really good too. My mom always said that one of the reason she married my dad was because he was smarter than her, unlike most of the people she was used to dating. It was also his brilliant mind that got me through math in high school. Every night at the dinner table. Once again, patience is a virtue he possesses. I should probably try to steal that one too.

3. My taste buds. (Notice how I didn't just say taste. My dad always says that all of his taste is in his mouth, except when it comes to pretty girls like my momma. This is probably pretty true.) My dad is not a big sweet eater. We would both choose chips and dip over dessert (unless is was a Silver Mint bar). For as long as I can remember, my dad has had the same salad pretty much everyday. I picked up some Italian dressing at the store last night so I could have a true Father's Day meal today. I have some popcorn too.

4. My love for Classic Rock. My childhood memories are filled with road trips soundtracked by the likes of Styx, Boston, America, Billy Joel, The Beach Boys, etc. I have since developed a pretty extensive collection in the genre. Dad doesn't much care for The Beatles or Bob Dylan, but I have forgiven him . Perhaps I can convert him in the next life.

5. My need to frequently burst into song. So if you know me, it is not news that pretty much anything is capable of inspiring a musical number. It was not a foreign concept in my house growing up that cheese or sweeping the floor may be deserving of a song belted at the top of our lungs. My dad has mad skills too. While I did not inherit his impressive piano playing ability, he is definitely the reason I can carry a tune to the back of a crowded theater. He has often been my accompanist, even when I have called upon to sing at an event last minute somewhere. One time, he even took on a role in show I was doing because someone bailed. Purely selfless, I can assure you. Pretty cool daddio, pretty cool.

So even though my dad might not be able to beat up your dad, he's still probably cooler. I prefer his non-violent nature anyways. I'm a lucky kid indeed. Thanks for being awesome dad! Happy Father's Day!

Just Another Manic Monday

Okay, you caught me! I was 3 hours late to work this morning, but I promise I have a good excuse! There was a bomb threat, boss! I swear! Don't believe me? I have proof. Click here for the news story of my Monday morning terrorist threat

And I'm sitting here on Capital Hill . . .

All of this time I have been torn. Acting or International Affairs? International Affairs or Acting? Thanks to the example of Richard Gere, I guess I no longer have to choose. I witnessed him in action first hand yesterday at hearing for the Foreign Affairs Committee involving Human Rights in Asia. (In case you were unaware, he's an dedicated activist for Tibet and is banned from Mainland China). I managed to get documented proof of the experience. Check it out:

Kate (next to me in yellow) managed to snag a pic on her phone. Nice

I was actually quite impressed by the man. And not only by his glowing hair. He actually knew his stuff and the Congress Reps. really seemed to take his suggestions seriously. Way to go Richie!

I like to look for rainbows . . .

especially outside Metro windows on a Friday after a long, cold, rainy week

Here's to the Ladies who Lunch

This post is dedicated to all of my previous Young Womens leaders. It is because of them that I am the intern that I am today. Who would have thought that after 4+ years of college studying International Cultural Theory the information and skills that would be most beneficial when I arrived in Washington would be the ones I learned on Wednesday nights at mutals activities? Seriously. My knowledge of color coordinating, using a glue gun, ironing, DIY bargins, dressing Sunday best, blog stalking, tying the perfect bow, starting with the fork on the outside, how to befriend new girls, how to dance a basic conga, and how to use a phone-tree have gotten me much further than Claude Levi-Strauss' theory on language and culture or extensive hours of ethnographic study and report writing. Kids, go to mutual. You have no idea where it will get ya.

A little FYI on the Public and International Affiars office: basically our job is to make friends with "opinion leaders" (in otherwords, people whose opinion has influence over people: ambassadors, congressmen, etc). We pay close attention to what is going on in politics here in Washington as well as in countries around the world and what role the LDS church can/does play in all. Whether it be religous freedom or having missionaries in different countries, we do our best to protect the interests of the church and the church members be developing relationships with important people. Simply put, it's diplomacy for the church.

Rewind back to skills learned in mutal. A large portion of what I have done so far has had to do with planning events that our office hosts, in these cases, for the wives of Ambassadors. Our first event was called, "Gathering Daisies" and was an event held at the Marriott (yes, as in the hotel Marriot) home. It featured special musical guest SHeDAISY and was attended by the wives of 28 ambassadors from all over the world and many prominent LDS women here in Washington. Think Relief Society activity on steriods. Here were some of my contributions:


This was the gift we gave our guests. Don't be fooled. This was no quick task. I spent no less than 6 hours trimming the treads on 90 hankerchiefs, and several more hours ironing them so they fit in the boxes. This was after, of course, tracking down the exact ribbon and tissue paper. I'm quite proud of these babies.

This is what the bags looked like that we put the hankerchiefs in. Assembling the daisies alone took two days. (P.S. I'm not complaining. It was actually super fun. I'm just trying to put my effort into perspective so 10 years from now when I'm reading this I remember what a labor of love this was.)

I made 150 of these daisy paper clips that were used to display the photographs the guests brought of the sisters in their lives. (you see, SHeDAISY is the Native American word for sisters, and the name of the band of sisters that sang, so "daisies" and "sisterhood" was kinda the theme for this thing.) Luck for me, I was working on these on "take-your-daughter-to-work-day" so my boss' cute girls helped me punch out and assemble these while singing primary songs and speaking in Ubbi-dubbi (ubI uubsed tubo bube thube bubest ubat spubeakubing ubit whuben ubI wubas uba kubid).

And of course, what is a daisy luncheon without daisies. Nothing, right? Well it almost happened due to flooding in South America where these pretty things grow, but we got lucky. 65 removed stickers, bows tyed and flower arrangements later, we had some good looking center peices.

The whole thing came together so well. Unfortunately, I don't have pics of the final results. The best part was, of course, attending the luncheon. You eat yummy catered food while listening to music and chatting it up with important people from all over the world. Like I said, I'm not complaining.

This is me with Ashlee, SHeDAISY, and Mauri. My 10 year old self was doing a happy dance.

THEN.....

The next week our office hosted more ambassador's wives at the First Lady's Luncheon hosted by the Congressional Club. Unfortunately for her, one of the Ambassador's wives was not feeling well enough to attend. Of course, you must fill your table at these kinds of things, so I was generous enough to fill in for her, even though they aren't paying me. I know, I know. Poor me. But an interns gotta do what an interns gotta do.

I only had my iPod to take pics with and no zoom, so I took pictures of the screen instead. Yes, Michelle Obama is just as beautiful and graceful in real life. And surprisingly VERY TALL.

After a lovely meal filled with straight-out-of-movies society women characters, we enjoyed the musical stylings of Gloria Estephan. You know I couldn't control myself any longer.

Their Florida table settings were nice too, I guess. I wonder if they had an intern that slaved over those. Kudos to you.

This was after the event. The big pink bag was a gift compelte with designer sandals, perfume, nail polish, beach towel and water bottle.

So you see, I like Levi-Straus just as much as the next Cultural Theorist, but I really owe my capability to survive Washington to Young Womens leader. A toast to you ladies.