I am sitting in the student union here at school, and the television screen in the snack bar is flashing "Have a Great Summer!" on a seemingly endless loop. While this is a bit obnoxious, as summer is decidedly over, I can reply wholeheartedly "I did indeed, thank-you-very-much-for-asking, have a great summer." It was far too long, and far too short, and interesting, and educational, and too far from home, and frustrating, and really, really lovely. It is so nice to know that the seemingly random assortment of skills one picks up over the years can be applicable in a "real" job. Whether or not I will be able to find said job when I graduate is another matter entirely, but it is comforting to know that the sort of thing I want to do actually exists, and that I am capable of doing it.
That is all from me, back in the mitten, and not-quite ready for my last year of college.
We, Maddie, Mary, and Amanda, were in Rhetoric and the Great Books (Freshman English) together, lo those many semesters ago, and in this class we read (all of) the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Aeneid and (most of) the Divine Comedy. These works define and contain the conventions, those plot devices and turns of phrase, which make up an "epic." Whenever, in the course of reading these works, an epic convention was spotted, it became our custom to sound the "epic convention alarm," a sort of whooping noise, often accompanied by raised hands or running about in circles (what can I say, we were freshmen).
This summer finds each of us interning: Mary with a newspaper in Ohio, Maddie with a production company in LA, Amanda with a museum in Massachusetts. We hope that we won't face the more harrowing of the epic conventions (eg: the descent into the underworld) but who knows, we are interns after all.