#nprinternlife

Zazil Davis-Vazquez, Research, Archives and Data Strategy (RAD) Intern, walks us through her fangirl moment at NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert yesterday.

Today I got to meet one of my favorite bands of all time.

Since the beginning of my music metadata internship in the Research, Archives and Data Strategy department (RAD), I have been working on testing the accuracy of mood-predicting algorithms that we use to categorize music for our music database, Orpheus. I also get to catalogue music that artists and promoters send to our team. Every couple of days, I have to remind my teenage self that I am literally getting paid to listen to music all day, and then I have to pinch myself because it feels like a dream!

Today was the biggest dream come true of my internship so far, however. My favorite band, Café Tacuba, came to do a Tiny Desk Concert, and I started getting nervous hours before they even got to the building. The first time I saw them play, I was eight years old and they opened for Beck at UCSD. My whole family gets together after parties and sings their songs while my uncle plays his guitar and my little cousins run around the kitchen. Needless to say, this concert was huge for me!

When they started doing soundcheck, I made my way over to the music area, and I saw Rubén Albarrán, in a beautiful blue poncho with long fringe just casually walking around, warming up his voice. Before I could even stop, I saw my hand extending in front of me to introduce myself. I was too excited for my own good, and started babbling at him in nervous Spanglish. I can’t express how sweet he was--he even asked my name and then guessed its origin and meaning perfectly (which has NEVER happened to me).

As they began to play, my eyes started to water, but I also couldn’t stop dancing and enjoying the moment. After the concert, the bassist came up to me, hugged me, and said, “You knew all the lyrics!” When they left, I floated back to my desk and got right back to cataloguing new albums. The stars aligned perfectly to give me the best day of my life and I couldn’t be more grateful. Thanks to all my co-interns who encouraged me to greet the band and listened to me nerd out with such kindness.

Kristy Guilbault, NPR’s Music Editorial Intern, walks us through her day.

Today I talked about a song for a “New Mix” episode of All Songs Considered.

As an intern, you’re prohibited from having your voice on the air due to SAG restrictions. However, there’s a loophole: your voice can appear on podcasts. 

NPR Music’s editorial internship includes lots of writing, editing, fact-checking but thankfully very little speaking. My writing prowess is something I’m proud of; public speaking makes me want to run and hide.

So, when I woke up, on a Monday morning, to a Slack message from Bob — yes, the Bob — I was terrified. But, who would pass up the opportunity to ramble about one of their favorite bands on All Songs?

It's Friday, and Mike just opened a little jar of fart scent, so my nose is currently in a tube of hand cream. Avocado oil never smelled so good! The origins of the fart scent jar are complicated, but you should know that it's real, it spreads rapidly, and it smells like rotting olives.

Moving on, I thought I'd take the time to share 10 tips for those who might one day find themselves in the shoes boots (it's Chicago) of a Wait Wait… Don't Tell Me intern:

If there's going to be pimento mac&cheese for dinner, bring tupperware. I don't know your mac&cheese fortitude, but I suggest multiple.

If you need to interview Wrinkles, the scary clown from South Florida, don't text him from your cellphone. Because you'll only later realize that he now has your name and your number. And that makes it very hard to sleep at night.

If you're asked to wrap a present exclusively with US Weekly pages, sorry but you'll never do a better job than I did, so you might as well say no.

If you're going to be in Des Moines for a road show, get take out pizza from Fong's, the asian-italian fusion place where you can get your pad thai and hunan chicken on a freakin’ slice of pizza.

If you hear hushed talks about jumping into a pool of jello, volunteer yourself. (Still working on this one).

If the squatty potty that Mike ordered for Peter, but which Peter refused to take home, is still here when you arrive, try to sneak it home yourself. You won’t regret it. Invest in your health, young intern!

Similarly, when a copy of a cat book gets sent to the office, put your finger on your nose as soon as possible. Nose goes.

If the celebrity guest is going to be a supermodel who has done Playboy and the likes, be careful googling at work…

If you're going to write a cheese pun, make it cow-nt.

If you're asked to be buried alive for the sake of "research" or "journalism" or "The Academy,"  say no! You'll never get out!

1. Ate Peter Sagal's homemade chopped liver. Beforehand, I told Peter that I only eat kosher meat, so he told me that he got the liver from a rabbi on a street corner, and so I believed him.

2. Had a conversation with How To Do Everything’s Ian Chillag. It went like this: My gum unexpectedly falls out of my mouth and onto the carpet beneath my desk.  ME: My gum fell out of my mouth. Ian makes a face, and it is not good. IAN: What?  ME: My gum fell out of my mouth.

END SCENE (Note: I highly doubt Ian remembers this interaction. Actually, I really hope he doesn't). 3. Watched Peter serenade Ian by reading to him a poem written by a Not My Job guest who will remain anonymous while Ian sat on Peter's lap and nuzzled against his cheek. I got the funny feeling that this was not an unwonted occurrence. 4. Completed a real intern task. (I refilled a pitcher of water during a meeting! Thank you, Mathematics degree, I knew you would come in handy one day!) 5. Heard a lot of expletives. The kind I could have lived without hearing. The whole David Cameron news didn't help either. 6. Participated in a seven-minute workout during the very first hour of my very first day, which the team told me is a daily ritual. I wish someone had told me not to wear a dress to work because wall squats and crunches would have been a lot less awkward that way. But I caught on quickly and wore pants on both Monday and Tuesday only to hear not a single utterance about a workout of any kind. Finally, I crafted an email to the staff: "When is seven-minute workout? It's the only reason I wore pants today." That email never left my draft box. In fact, a lot of emails (30) haven’t left my draft box.