New York Times

Guess what? I'm back in Hawaii!!! But guess what? Before I got back to Hawaii I went to NYC, concrete jungle where dreams are made of (is this seriously how the song goes, and if so, am I the only one who thinks this attempt at a sentence makes very little sense? Enjoy the song, but this troubles me. Help me out).

Two of my favorite people on the entirety of this planet (namely Taeler Herr and Alex Allred) came out to DC to visit me and the first thing we did was get on a bus for New York at 6:30am. Back in the day, the three of us plus the one and only Scott Brazee were masters of the suicide road trip (meaning spontaneous, dirt cheap, with little sleep and often under 24 hours). Scott couldn't join us, of course, because he's serving the Lord in South Africa but we brought a flat Scott (inspired by flat Stanley) to join us. Alex has since run away to Europe with a lot of the evidence of this splendid adventure, but when I track him down, I will post the goodness.

GOSH, I love New York!

After Alex got over the disappointment that Madison Square Garden was not an actual garden, and that we were not going to let him stop to wash his hair, we got to explore the city for a good part of the morning. That afternoon we used our sweet hook-ups to get VIP tickets for a David Letterman taping. The Late Show is actually filmed in broad day light at 3:30pm and days before it airs (for those of you who were unaware). It was pretty sweet to get the VIP treatment and watch Mr. Patrick Dempsey exist. The other guests were quite forgettable, but we had a good time.

Below you can watch the interview with Patty that we were present for in case the curiosity and jealously are killing you:

Later that night, we scored box seats to Billy Elliot: the Musical. Alex and I were dying to see "Anything Goes", but you can only sacrifice so many days of nourishment in order to see a good show. We were not disappointed, however, Billy Elliot was AWESOME! *Sigh* Angsty tap numbers preformed by 12 year old boys are surprisingly impressive. Loved it.

Here's a little taste of the show:

By 11:30 we were dodging fans trying to get a peak at Robin Williams (who was performing next door) as we sprinted like mad for 11 blocks in order to catch our bus back to DC after only 10 hours in the city. We caught our bus and got back to DC at 3am and entertained ourselves until the Metro opened at 5:30. We got back to my house at 6:30 and by 7:45 I was back on the Metro on my way in to work. Talk about exhausting, but so worth it. I mean, really, how often do you get to live out the fantasy of being lost in NY for a day with 2 of the most hilarious people on earth? Exactly.

*This adventure was made possible by a generous donation from parentals that manage the "Ambree's Birthday Fund." Without their generous gift supplied more than a month in advance, non of this would have been possible. Thank you.*

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.

Famous Food

Let me just start off by saying, "Oh yeah. I'm in D.C. I love it. All of it."

With that out there, I promise to post more about life out here, particularly the internship. Today I attended my first big event and, as soon as I have pictures to illustrate, I will tell you all about. It was really awesome. So stay tuned.

But on to the purpose of this particular post: CHOCOLATE.

You know, I am more of a savory than sweet kinda gal myself. I'm not big on desserts, but I LOOOVVVEEE chocolate. Good chocolate. Not nasty, so called "milk chocolate" wax. Dark chocolate. The real stuff. It's my boyfriend. Who needs a man when you have dark chocolate to give you the warm fuzzies? No one. Exactly.

Carrying on.

So you may be familiar with the show on TLC, DC Cupcake. I wasn't. But you might be. Anyway, it's a reality show that films inside a bakery in Georgetown specializing in cupcakes. It's called Georgetown Cupcake. (Bonus points to the genius that thought up that clever name). Apparently it entertaining . . . .? but it's all the rage. And it's just a few blocks from my office. I figured I HAD to stop in and have a taste. Easier said than done considering the line in usually at least a 45 min wait. If not a few hours. HA! YEAH RIGHT! Except, last week the stars aligned and as I was killing time after work in Georgetown (which is fabulous, btw), it just so happened that NO ONE was in line for cupcakes! And by no one I mean the wait was less than 10 mins. So I waited and paid my left arm for a cute little German Chocolate cupcake. I found a place to sit and ate my, "You haven't lived until you've tasted it!" cupcake. And . . . . . . .

it was fine.

Yeah. fine.

Like the chocolate stuff on top was the best part. The frosting and cake tasted like every other cupcake I've ever eaten in my life. And considering cupcakes aren't really my favorite thing anyway(someone explain to me why they are so trendy), I don't really think I'm going to make an effort to go back. I've checked it off the list.

On the other hand . . .

Hukilau cafe (the one that inspired the film "50 First Dates" and the Jack Johnson song "Banana Pancakes) is about 100 yards away from my Hawaiian home. And they have these chocolate chip pancakes that are like the best thing ever. (I say "like" because they are probably not the best thing ever, but they are probably very similar). I miss being able to wake up, maybe put on some shoes, and make a trip down to the Cafe in my PJs to be greeted with a, "Ho, chocolate chip short stack, ya?" and then indulge.

*sigh* I can't wait to get back to those things. Way better than a cupcake. I dream about them sometimes. And I don't really love pancakes either, so, that must mean something, right?

AAAAANNNNNDDDD you just read an entire post about my experiences with chocolate. Kinda pathetic. You should re-evaluate.