I've got a running list of things I'd like to write about...and I will try to get to them as quickly as possible, since they're long overdue. Let's start with last week's minor brush with celebrity gone awry, shall we?

This is the sad tale of how the stars aligned and I was momentarily blessed with incredible luck...which was then swiftly snatched back, as I should have expected it would be.

Last Thursday was literally the most ridiculously busy day I've ever experienced. I'll do a little snapshot of it in my next post. At any rate, I went to a briefing on International Family Planning at 10 am, which I thought was fascinating, predictably enough. As the question and answer period wound up, everyone in the room started to get distracted because the chattering and clamoring right outside the briefing room door was starting to intensify beyond normal levels. When we threw open the doors to head back to our offices, lo and behold, we were greeted with a whole brigade of press armed with cameras. I tried my best to look important so they would take a picture of me, but to no avail. I could tell they were waiting for something, and they knew what it was, and it wasn't me.

Now this is the point at which I should have stopped for 2.5 seconds and asked a random onlooker what everyone was waiting for. But no, I was stressed out because I knew how much work awaited me in my office, so I just scrambled downstairs and forgot the whole event. A half hour later, visitors came into the office and said they'd heard a rumor that Jessica Simpson was lobbying on the hill that morning. Immediately I dropped my forehead to the desk and asked what room she was going to be in, even as I knew the answer. This was cosmic joke on Meghan #1 of the day.

#2 came later, when I walked out to the Capitol steps with the Congresswoman and four college kids to take a photograph. We discovered that our way to the steps was blocked suddenly by a huge contingent of police officers. Now, the Congresswoman I work for happens to be walking sunshine, so a few kind words to the burly fellow guarding the entrance to the steps got us the promise of a couple minutes to take our picture. Press were swarming all over, and the steps were lined with bagpipe players in kilts standing at attention. Obviously something was happening, and the Congresswoman then broke in with, "Oh yes, now I remember, the President is here talking with the Prime Minister of Ireland. Let's see if we can't make this a more exciting day for all you, huh?" Now I'm thinking at this point that I'm in line for something cool given my failed brush with fame earlier that day, so I start getting excited. Never get excited, you'll invariably get screwed. We hear the bagpipers start playing, and shutters start snapping wildly, and as the secret service start heading down the steps into our view the gods - in the form of a squat, grumpy police woman - saw fit to take it all away. Aforementioned surly policewoman kicked us out literally seconds before Bush strolled down the steps. Does this not kill you? You weren't even there and I know you're groaning at the cruelty of it all.

Now, I am not one to chase after celebrities (or buy Jessica Simpson albums or fawn over Bush for that matter) but I am 21, I answer the phone when crazy people call, I scurry around fetching things not unlike a golden retriever, and I need some good stories as payment. I need to meet some famous people!

Universe 1, Meghan 0. Everything in its right place.