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Friday, March 22, 2019

The Evening News Versus Reality †My Internship at the White House :: Admissions Essay

The Evening News Versus Reality My Internship at the bloodless House I press the button to playback my voicemail. So, Sharon, what war did you plan in Washington? I groan, and anticipate that the next seven messages are more(prenominal) of the same. I head downstairs, where a roommate had already monopolized the TV and am greeted with Hey, Sharon, your boys in trouble On every highroad is the same picture, marines in body bags in a far remote land. I had a very different White House internship from Monica Lewinskys. exploit came and went without in like manner much national coverage. But I do visualize Lewinskys awe of power. Though I was most impressed by all the people who worked so hard in D.C., I too was dazzled by the famous personages populating the city. It was hard not to be. Your neighbor readiness head negotiations for peace in the Middle East. Colin Powell baron hold spread out a door for you. The people filling the town were more than celebrities, they wer e influencing our early and the fate of nations. On the day of the Vice Presidents birthday, his ply threw him a party. All staff were invited, including lowly interns like me. I had not yet met the Vice President, and there was a rumor the President might show up. Finally I would have a chance to mate the man in command. Walking into the Indian Treaty Room, where the party was to be held, I scoped out the best spot to turn out for a presidential encounter. I squeezed next to the birthday cake, figuring the Vice President had to stand there at some point, and I waited. I tried to attend outwardly calm, as if I go to these things all the time. I didnt want to seem too excited to the neurotic Secret Service, or remind a hard- faceed staffer of work needing to be done. But inside, my heart was pumping. Suddenly, the doors swung open and the Vice President casually strode in, smiling. The doors opened again, and President crotch hair came in, followed by the First Lady. Despite my efforts at nonchalance, my smile was jumping into my ears. Mrs. crotch hair presented a birthday greeting, then walked over to the Vice President and dumped a bowl of popcorn on his head.

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