Actually, it almost never did. The weather was ungodly hot, hot and humid. But the summer was productive and, at times, fun. Working at KRT really gave me an opportunity to write many different types of stories and it was nice to get a taste of life in Washington.

A taste, however, was enough. Whenever I went to cover a speech or a news briefing or saw the latest politico speak to our group, I couldn’t help but involuntarily feel a little queasy. Somewhere, down deep, I couldn’t help but feel that this person — whatever their intentions — lusted after power over others. And worse yet, the entire atmosphere of that town means those with the most powerlust are guaranteed an eager following of syphocants, including journalists, who know that the most powerful people guarantee the biggest headlines.

It’s hard to explain in a rational way, really. I just know that I don’t want to live and work there right now, and I find it hard to imagine that I’d ever want to. Fortunately, that’s not even an option right now, as Karen likes her job at Midway Games here in Chicago, so we’ll be in the Windy City for a while to come.

Boy, it’s hard to think of a time in my life when I was as happy as when I finished that final exam on Thursday, July 25, meaning I was done with classes, done with the internship, done with the program and finally done with college. It was such a feeling of accomplishment. And in two days, I’d be on my way home to see my baby. Oh, it was bliss. It was bliss. It was bliss.

But I’ve a different kind of bliss to look forward to now — wedded bliss. We’re just about done with all the wedding plans. There are some details to be attended to, still, but for the most part it’s all taken care of. We’re taking some private dance lessons this weekend so that we don’t trip over each other during the first dance. That’s my goal, anyway.

We’re going to San Francisco on our honeymoon. We’ll be staying at a Hotel Monaco there. It should be glorious fun. I’ve been reading up about all the wonderful things to see and do, and I’m starting to get excited. I bought a couple of “underground” guide books so that we’re not just stuck in the tourist traps — though we’ll of course visit those.

We’ve already got tickets to a Giants game (hopefully the players and owners will pull their heads out of their asses and avoid a strike) and an Alcatraz tour.

I liked the Washington Post a lot before spending a few weeks in D.C., but there’s nothing likegetting your hands on a paper every day to really give you a feel for it. And the Post is an excellent paper; my favorite one, I think. The Times‘ Magazine is better, and so is its arts coverage, but when it comes to straight news coverage, features, and the editorial pages, the Post is fresher and more balanced.

Here are a few Post stories I read in D.C. that I thought were particularly interesting and linkworthy.

The first story is “At your convience,” a wonderful feature by Libby Copeland about 7-Eleven, written to mark the 75th anniversary of the convenience store chain. Here’s a taste:

Day and night at the 7-Eleven are alternate universes. At 7 a.m., the store is about efficiency. In and out. Construction workers and suits alike are en route to work; they want coffee, “instant food” (quicker even than fast food). Pre-made breakfast sandwiches. Many get the same thing at the same time. Every day. They know how many creams they want in their coffee.

At, say, 11 p.m., the place of business becomes a destination, a community center, in some neighborhoods. There’s a sense that anything goes. A guy walks in barefoot despite the “Shirts and Shoes Required” sign. Two young men jokingly — brazenly — grab a big carton of individually wrapped snacks by the cashier stand and walk out, then laugh and bring it back in. Then they do it again.

The night employees work till early in the morning. They serve breakfast at all hours: They sell to people just getting off work and people just going to work, and the whole thing goes ’round and ’round.

Let’s begin with the sun.

It might seem like a hokey way of going about it, but Copeland executes it beautifully.

The second story is “Cooler heads,” by Jennifer Frey, a pean to Willis Carrier, who somewhat accidentally invented the air conditioner 100 years ago.

A taste:

For most of us, though, summer comes with refrigerated work spaces, chilled shopping malls, bedrooms cooled to optimal sleeping temperatures — at least for the one in control of the thermostat. From the minute the heat wave descends upon us, we dial up the air conditioning, plug in the window units, seal ourselves off from the steamy outside world.

Without air conditioning, we would be limp, damp, foggy, irritable. We would be utterly miserable.

And so let us now praise the invention of air conditioning, which arrived 100 years ago today, and has changed our entire world.

Of course, I was still miserable in D.C. despite refrigerated home and work spaces. It was so goddamn hot. Ugh. The third Post story I recommend is “Designing women,” by Cynthia Gorney, a fascinating look at the scientists who are searching for the “female Viagra.”

While Gorney does a lot of good reporting, in the name of balance of subtlety she takes an overly skeptical view of the entire process. If you read to the end, I think you’ll find her reaction to a woman nearly in tears as obtuse as I did. But here’s a spicy taste:

If you walk into a sexual medicine clinic expecting some version of annotated anatomical charts, with step-by-step explanations of what transpires in the adult female during a fully satisfactory sexual experience, what you get instead still adds up to a giant scribble of circular arrows and question marks, brain to genitals to brain to genitals, with experts like Julia Heiman and Amy Heard-Davison adding research information that sometimes mystifies as much as it illuminates.

The third story is “Brian Lamb’s flock,” by Mark Leibovich, a nice little piece about the cult of personality that has formed around C-SPAN founder, guru and “Booknotes” host Brian Lamb. A taste:

Lamb is open to interpretations of himself — the solemn ones, mocking ones, camp ones.

He’ll play along. He is resigned to his celebrity niche. He has been called the most boring and the most trusted man in America, both of which he would take as a source of pride, or, at least, humor. He’s heard the cult thing over and over. He finds the status silly, if hardly complicated. “I do not want to be a star, I do not want to be a personality,” Lamb says, “and that fact creates a following that I can’t really explain.”

Lastly, there’s this excellent story by Kevin Sullivan and Mary Jordan, “Disparate Justice Imprisons Mexico’s Poor.” A part of the same series on Mexican justice which produced an excellent story about rape in that country, this story is just as heartbreaking. A taste:

Giovanni Hurtado Aviles was hurrying to his engineering class when he realized he didn’t have the two pesos — about 20 cents — for the subway. When he tried to use somebody’s else’s pass to get on, he was caught and hauled to jail. “I made a mistake. I am really sorry. I won’t do it again,” Hurtado, 20, said he told the guard who nabbed him that January morning.

But the Mexican justice system, which often fails to punish serious criminals, zealously prosecutes the most minor of offenders. So the college student with no criminal record was denied bailand forced to mop floors for 12 hours a day for two months while he awaited trial.

The rule of law is almost a cliche, now, but it’s not any less true. It’s this kind of injustice that makes a place like the United States, for all its flaws, such an attractive place comparatively speaking. Welfare has very, very little to do with why Mexicans stream across the border. It’s about opportunity. It’s about having some sense that the game isn’t rigged from the very start.

I’ve finally got all the stories I wrote over the summer up on my Web site.

Now, I need to get a couple of hours’ sleep before work. I’ll post some commentary to go along with the stories soon enough, along with more general impressions of my summer in D.C., in addition to news about my job and whatever reflections or links I might have that aren’t totally pointless to go on about now that so much time has passed.

It’s been extremely hectic here in D.C., between the midterms, finals and research-intensive features I’ve written for KRT. Oh, and also the not getting any sleep. I’ve barely had time to answer e-mails, read news and other blogs, let alone do any of my own blogging. But I’ve got a blogging backlog if things I’ll be catching up with once I get home.

So look for a slew of posts next week. Until then.

What I would like, ideally, is an internship (or a job) where I come in and am assigned a new story every morning. That is how I would learn the most, by having a beat and covering something every day. That’s how I would learn the most about writing on deadline, getting information, talking to sources and so on. Knight Ridder/Tribune isn’t working that way.

KRT does have its advantages, though. I can work on a mix of different kinds of stories. I’ve done some spot news, a couple of softer things, and am working on some less timely news features. My supervisor, Ray Walker, is probably one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. But he definitely exercises his editorial discretion. I will take a look at something in the daybook (a listing of Congressional hearings and news “events” in D.C.) and think, “I could write a story on this,” but he’ll say, “You can go to that, but don’t write a story on it.”

That’s a little frustrating. I’d like it if he (or someone else) came to me and said, “Do go to this and do write a story on it.” Whenever a story gets pitched to me, it’s always something lighter and less timely. And that’s OK, I guess. That’s their prerogative, especially since I’m not interning in the Washington bureau, just on the other side of the floor.

By the way, I’m working in the National Press Building, the top two floors of which house the National Press Club. You may have seen it on C-SPAN’s coverage of the National Press Club luncheons, where they have a newsmaker give a talk on some subject or another. Last week Ted Kennedy gave a speech on health care, which I wrote a story about. I thought I did a good job with it. I have no idea if it got picked up anywhere, of course, because I need to get my hands on Lexis-Nexis to search for it (and my other stories). KRT does not track which paper picks up which stories.

Well, they’re kicking me out of here again. Hasta luego.