A moment of clarity this is not.

I just finished a long phone call with a friend from Stanford. I tried to describe my experiences of the last week, and I'm pretty sure that I accomplished next to nothing.

I'm going to need some time to figure out exactly how I felt about my time in the Clark campaign. Excited, tired, optimistic, cynical, and more. I feel like I bonded with some of the volunteers the same way that I used to during a summer camp. I was only at the campaign for a week, and only spent a few days with the volunteers whose schedules overlapped mine, but the common purpose of our work really helped unite us.

The campaign office was an odd blend of things...

- Anonymity and personal connections. As i said, i bonded with the volunteers and got to know them far better than I expected. At the same time, though, we were the little people in a office full of giants -- paid staffers, reporters, congressmen, ambassadors, and obviously the candidate himself. Maybe that's one reason why we bonded -- our little micro-community was all we had at some times.

- Inspiration and cynicism. All of the interns will say that the campaign was incredibly inspirational -- the famous visitors, the patriotic spirit and collective goals for Gen. Clark, the incredible speeches, and the overwhelming positive response from many of the voters we contacted. The euphoria was frequent but often short-lived. A small numbers of the paid staff members often made our lives quite difficult, though....micromanaging us, barking orders, and criticizing the very habits that we learned -- like a classic 1990s War on Drugs ad -- by watching them. I refrained from taking any parting shots when I left today...but it was certainly tempting...

I wish I could write more clearly now. I've made a lot of progress in returning to the real world today, but I still have the lingering feeling that I spent the last seven days in a dream. I remember the feel of the whole experience, yet I still have trouble recalling specific experiences. I have nearly 100 photos, though, so those ought to help. I still have to talk about the media, the volunteer house (or, affectionately, the 'crackhouse'), and our thrilling day-to-day tasks.

But now it's time for bed. Tomorrow brings nearly 8 hours of class.

Current Mood: Reflective
Current Song: Moby, "First Cool Hive"