Thus, my internship concludes...

An hour and 20 minutes left at Rip It Up. Not that I'm counting.

I'm really not counting. Today has been an awesome last day, actually. Around 11 am, the executive assistant called everyone to "morning tea" for my last day!!! Cake at work has been one of the highlights of my semester, so you can imagine how much pride I felt eating it in my honor. Nice people here.

Then I wrote an article about Auckland band Body Corporate. I interviewed the bassist last night; it was okay. He really didn't have much to say about his band? I had to ask a lot of questions, and he kept responding with nothing more than "yeah, ya know?" No, sir, I don't actually know. No one knows. This is why my magazine is writing an article about your band. After I turned off the Dictaphone, though, he went oooon and ooon about how much he loves the US. Me too, man, me too.

(Sidenote: When I told him I'm from Massachusetts, he said, "Oh, ah..." and looked really confused. Then I said, "Um, Boston," and recognition appeared. Why do so few non-Americans not know that Boston is part of Massachusetts? I know Matt experienced this in Ireland. Really. I want to know. Admittedly, my world geography is a little dodgy and admittedly, Boston is kind of a big deal. But... ya know?)

After finishing the Body Corp article, I asked Karl if I could review Ben Folds' new album Way To Normal. I had just cataloged it from the Sony shipment of CDs for review, and Lord knows I need to educate the world on the greatness that is Ben Folds.

His new album is so bamf. I'll let you read the review when it gets published (hopefully Satellite will mail me the December/January issue!), but basically... the man is back. I admit feeling disillusioned by Songs for Silverman, and though Supersunnyspeedgraphic was a step in the right direction, the cleverness and poignancy of songs he crafted with the Five and on Rockin' the Suburbs were still missing. But full-on, the piano rockstar I love so very very much delivers with this new record. He's a creative genius.

So, now I have approximately an hour and seven minutes (still not counting) before I leave this building forevz, in which time I have to develop the courage to deliver my ridiculously lame homemade thank-you notes and Yankee Candle votives to my bosses and coworkers. I feel like a dork. My editor really doesn't seem like the scented candle type, with his tendency to come into the office after me, breath smelling of unbrushed teeth (seriously), but I brought them from home. I figured Massachusetts (that's near Boston, don't you know)-made thank-you gifts would be better than something I bought in their own country.

Sigh.