Today I learned an important lesson: do not buy the cheapest thing on Amazon. It will come with poorly translated directions and generally frustrate the hell out of your already exhausted self who only needs this music player to get her through her very early run tomorrow morning. Yes, I’m officially on a training plan for the half marathon and it feels AMAZING and I have renewed faith in both the heavens and my shoddy left knee. While I’ve been suffering through with just my thoughts (RIP iPod, you went above and beyond the many years I asked of you) now that I’m going 5+ miles, some heavy dance beats do wonders for my morale. In Iowa City this weekend I did my first “long” run with the help of NPH’s iPod (which he gave me, then TOOK BACK when his newer one broke. Goddamn Indian Giver. Is that a racist term? If it is, I apologize. That’s just literally the only term I know for someone who gives you something then takes it back. Other than Giant Butthead.) I move into my apartment THIS WEEKEND and am beyond excited to have my name on an apartment in IC again after eight months of separation and/or couch-surfing at 713. I’m also looking forward to resuming a somewhat normal blogging schedule since perhaps life around my peers will inspire me more than life working for the man (albeit a very fun, exciting “Man” who has been an amazing experience) does. Back to individually converting MP4 files to MP3 to go on this new piece of shit contraption even though I’m sure there’s ten other easier ways to do this AND I should be in bed if not staying up to watch the season two premiere of Jersey Shore. How I got into this show (just recently! Over the weekend!) is a tale for another post. Or maybe never because I’m very, very ashamed I know what “GTL” stands for.

The next season of Teen Mom on MTV starts on Tuesday. This has to be in my Top Five times I’ve ever been this excited for a television event. I’m not going to apologize for being MIA because silence is better than forced posts that are me recapping another booze-fueled weekend in Iowa City, my growing attachment to my boyfriend, owning up to the fact I’m barely running anymore, or the angst-y trials of feeling like an adult while living with the ‘rents. I could tell you about the glowing mid-season internship review I had at work, but that would just be gloating. I suppose a problem I’ve been having with blogging is that my insides are rebelling against this whole sharing-everything-with-the-Internet thing. I’m starting to become agitated with the blogs that fill my Google Reader– if I read another race recap or see another photo of a perfectly nutritionally-balanced breakfast I’m going to leave my laptop lying in an intersection. My Facebook usage has plummeted and absolutely no one on Earth has been negatively affected by this. I’ve many times contemplated deleting my Twitter account altogether, though I won Pancheros Twitter Trivia a few weeks ago and dammit those burritos are reason enough to stay activated. I actually– drumroll, please– went to the LIBRARY the other day and checked out a nonfiction book that I am LOVING. It’s called The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism by Timothy Keller and it’s quite thought-provoking (a phrase I don’t like now that I’ve used it.) Lollapalooza’s in three weekends, and I seriously need to sit down and provide instructions for NPH in the very likely event that I undergo some sort of physical bodily reaction from being in the same airspace as the Lady herself– i.e. heart attack, stroke, seizure, or just peeing my pants in public. Once the excitement of that dies down (WHO scheduled her to play Friday night– aren’t you supposed to save the best for last??) I’ll be making weird amounts of toast at Neil’s parents house because I don’t know what kind of bread they buy but DAMN it’s good. And then after that, well, summer will almost be over and I don’t really wanna think about that yet.

Did the Fourth of July seem not at all like a holiday to anyone else? Except for the absurd amount of time I was given off from work, actual Independence Day itself went off like any other. NPH and I traveled back to the Chicago suburbs to visit his family and friends from home, watch fireworks over Lake Michigan, and attempt the Taste of Chicago (only to decide we could get food and much cheaper beer in air-conditioned facilities not surrounded by thousands of other sweaty bodies. Though I did get a plate of sweet potato fries as big as my face for only seven tickets.) I met and became best friends with his family dog AND made a surprisingly fantastic rhubarb pie to win the rest of their hearts; we’ll see if I’m the new favorite when we go back in August for LOLLAPALOOZA!! Upon our return to Iowa City, we watched Inglourious Basterds since I hadn’t seen it post-Germany, and it mostly made me sad to hear them speaking German (though happy because I could understand it?) That has been the most challenging part of this summer– oh God, she’s trying to get all deep here at the end– dealing with the I’m-an-adult-but-living-at-home thing. I have to actively remind myself that I’m no longer in high school and in fact have much more freedoms this time around. Also, I miss D-Bag a boatload, but that’s secondary to the constant inner turmoil I’m going through maturity-wise. I read an article today that said it costs a quarter of a million dollars to raise a child to the age of 18– do you know how much Bavarian beer that would buy in Munich over my lifetime? 1. A lot, 2. That segue to tie the whole post together really just did not work at all.

Did the lack of potassium kill her?!?! Nope, I just kinda forgot I had a blog there for about a week.  The good news is, I went back to the doctor and my electrolyte levels are back to where they need to be– no more health-related posts!!  NPH not only visited me at work when he got into town on Friday, but was also quite impressed when I introduced him to Famous Dave’s.  We made the trek to Adventureland Saturday morning– holy humidity, Batman– and the first four parking lots were already full when we pulled up 20 minutes after it opened.  Also, turns out the parking stand people only take cash which presents a few problems for college students who are slaves to their debit cards and don’t put much time into pre-planning their theme park day trips.  After making it through the gates and gooing on a ridiculous amount of sunscreen, we headed off to wait in line for the Raging River (I.HATE.LINES.)  Neil was previously a security guard at Six Flags so proclaimed “This is nothing!” as I whined about it for the duration.  All our loitering did provide ample time for people watching which is usually interesting, though watching and eavesdropping on the crowd at the biggest attraction in Altoona, Iowa made me more sad than intrigued.  When we finally got to the front of the line, three teenage boys from Kansas City, Missouri were also in our tube (how do I know this?  They introduced themselves.  And it only got better from there.)  I felt kind of bad for them because they were at the peak of social awkwardness in their lives– voices were cracking, whiteheads were ripe for the popping, hive fives were given after one of them got particularly splashed when we rammed into a wall.  ”Dude, you sooo have to give Brenna a hug after this.”  ”Ohmygod no, dude– she’d so kill me.  Haha dude you’re right, I’m so gonna get Brenna all wet.” My definition of the seventh circle of hell?  Close.  We rode a few roller coasters after that which weren’t as thrilling as I remember them being as a child, though Neil laughing maniacally next to me as I screamed for Jesus to save me before I surely plummeted to my death was a new couple-y experience.  After lunch (who knew they served beer at Adventureland?!) and NPH’s first funnel cake (which was GROSS, but the poor thing hasn’t been to the State Fair yet so still deemed this nasty imposter cake delicious) the humidity rose as our patience for the screaming children around us tanked.  Somehow we found ourselves in a  bar watching the USA lose the World Cup game to Ghana, then may have ended up at my house to drink more and watch Step Brothers. I know the first half of that damn movie by heart, but since there’s always a case of some cheap domestic brew involved, the second half of the movie is kind of hit-or-miss for me.  After two days of work, I spent my day off today helping my grandparents get their garden ready for a garden tour in a week or so.  And by “helped” I mean kinda spray-painted some stuff, wandered the house, ate a weird amount of chicken salad for not liking mayo, and then tried unsuccessfully to fix their printer.  Productive day?  Oh my yes.

After barraging Google with searches for  hypokalemia (low potassium) I am now a veritable expert on the potassium content of most foods.  Thankfully T-Bone was set to do some grocery shopping anyway, so I added prunes, cantaloupe, bananas, and avocados to the list to jump start my blood’s return to healthy.  I must interject that I was a bit surprised to find out a potassium-low diet was part of my problem because I am not exactly the world’s slouchiest eater.  My meals at home consist of lots of color and produce and are much more nutritionally balanced than most 21 year olds you know– except for my weekends in Iowa City living off of cheese fries from the Vine, but even those are made from potatoes which are filled with potassium!  Getting told I need to eat more fruits and veggies is no skin off my back, except when it comes to the prune department.  These dried plums and I had never met before, and I was well aware of the reputation that precedes them.  Mom picked up three bags– regular, cherry and orange flavored.  My first reaction to a prune: GROSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.  Why are they slimy?!  Dried apricots aren’t slimy, they’re magically delicious.  This prune was bitter and slimy, yet the inside was mushy.  The other two flavors didn’t exactly mask the taste of nasty, but unfortunately “3-5 prunes with meals” was literally part of my doctor’s prescription.  I took a break from this culinary misadventure and tried again later.  At least I can proudly report, they’re growing on me.  And boy am I getting creative with them.  Last night I took some of the cherry ones and chopped them up in ice cream.  This morning I took advantage of their oddly spreadable insides and mixed them with the peanut butter on my English muffin (topped with a sliced banana because PB & ‘nanas is the best taste combo in. the. world.)

Let’s take a break from the exciting adventures in my kitchen and talk about Germany. D-bag and I talked via Skype yesterday and it was awesome yet sad.  Then I looked through some of my pictures from study abroad– MISTAKE.  Then, missing it so much I could have puked, I figured I should probably have some goal about when I’m going to return (Oktoberfest 2011.)  I’m certainly not hating being home, but it’s crazy to think that some of my classmates are still over there and haven’t even began the coming home process yet. Speaking of study abroad, I got a 4.0 last semester– not exactly the toughest 16 weeks of academia I’ve endured, but all A’s nonetheless.  This does wonders for my overall GPA, and now only 24 credit hours until I’m done-zo.  Posts related to that upcoming life crisis to follow.

Currently I’m supposed to be putting in some hours at work, but the kindness of my boss coupled with a signed doctor’s note for rest means I’m off today.  To SLEEP!!  And let my blood return to normal.  Won’t you come along with me for this emergency room tale?

So it was after dinner about an hour or two and my head HURT.  Like, oh hey this headache is kind of getting in the way of me doing normal things and is generally making me very agitated.  I woke up quite tired yesterday so chalked it up to that until a massive wave of nausea hit like OhmygodI’mgonnapukeNOW (but thankfully didn’t.)  I was officially sick, so decided to just go to sleep.  Laying down wasn’t great, however.  Methinks I psyched myself out a bit and got oddly scared about what it could be– I just felt off– so instead of trying harder to sleep, I went downstairs.  And ate a brownie, but that’s just normal me, nothing to see here.  That’s when I noticed I felt kinda dizzy and my eyes were blurrier than my normal terrible vision.  NOW I’m freaking out, and spend a good chunk of time wavering between “Oh it’s nothing” and “I should text NPH because I’m not living through the night.”  I tried laying down again and this is when I noticed there was a massive pressure on the right side of my head and upper arm, like something was pushing on me.  This spread into a numb, tingly feeling along pretty much the right side of my body, and about now is the point when I went downstairs and alerted T-Bone that something was up.  My mother was oddly calm about it as I’m sitting on her bed crying because the room’s kinda going in and out of focus, and after listening to what’s up she decided the hospital is probably a good bet.  She suggested something about drinking a G2 since I could just be dehydrated after my run, but I assured her I had drank so much water afterward, that would be impossible (and I really did.  Heinous amounts of water.  And a very nutritious meal.)

Thankfully the ER was deserted and they got me in right away, first finding out that my blood pressure was pretty freakin’ high for me, though I was was equally freakin’ nervous about being in the hospital.  I also had a low fever and was shaking because apparently Methodist West has a harem of polar bears roaming the place who need the air conditioning set near arctic temperatures.  I got dressed in a hospital gown (and was wearing my most God-awful, way too big, really old undies because I had THOUGHT I was just going to bed) and got a bunch of blood drawn and got hooked up to a blood pressure machine and got a saline IV hooked up in my arm.  Methinks perhaps the giant needle stuck in my arm for three hours eventually hurt worse than anything I was in there for in the first place.  A bunch of people came in, each one asking if there was any way at all I was pregnant, causing my mother to possibly need medical attention more than myself.  The doctor kept asking if I was on “street drugs” and then did a bunch of coordination/ strength tests to see if I’d had an acute stroke (um, no.)  He sent me for a CAT scan anyway, which thankfully came back negative (so did the pregnancy test– rest easy, mother) though my blood work showed a pretty low potassium level.  They gave me some giant horse pills and a prescription of potassium and told me to eat lots of prunes daily because they actually have much more potassium than bananas.  My sodium levels were also off so we had to wait until my IV had dripped its full liter of fluid in me before leaving.

My mother, while I’m thankful for her driving me and remaining calm while internally I was quite freaking out, is not perhaps the best to have in an ER situation as 1.) She’s no good after about 1 am and I feared she’d rip the IV out of me herself so we could go home to sleep and 2.) “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so.”  Because THAT’S what someone in a hospital bed wants to hear.  Yes, some of the reasons I was in there could be chalked up to dehydration, though not because I didn’t drink plenty of water after my run.  It’s actually because I drank so much, I peed all the time, and your body naturally gets rid of a certain amount of potassium every time you pee.  All the water diluted the salt in me, so even though I had SALTED nuts after my run and a bunch of other things you’d think would have nutritionally benefited this situation, no dice.  The doctor said this also could have been a progressive thing– lack of potassium in my diet + lots of sweating during event set up at work + running + only drinking water and not “watered down Gatorade a small pretzel” = feeling like shit.  And low potassium can cause the “tinglies.”  And he thinks there was a migraine somewhere in there.

In conclusion, sorry that was so long.  I feel better today though very tired, so will nap in between the timing of my football-sized potassium pills.  At Adventureland on Saturday I’ll have to drink something other than just water, and boy oh boy I sure can’t wait til prunes become a staple of my diet.

Sorry, Monday– I discounted you from the start this morning.  After a night of poor sleep thanks to weird dreams (starring Gisele, Tom Brady, and a former high school lust) I woke up demanding caffeine and cursing my scheduled eight hours of desk work.  Somewhere along the way, Monday quietly surprised me with an uncannily productive work ethic AND energy to go for a run a little after 5:00.  –Note to self, the sun is still far from setting at this time.  Humidity is still rocking well about 50%, recent thunderstorms make gravel more like sand to run on, and you will end up getting rocks into your shoe only a mile in.  While I commend you on lacing up them sneaks and getting out there, next time perhaps some pre-planning will go into it.  Baby steps.

A note on my job: IT IS AWESOME.  Some of the events involved in my internship are, wait for it… weddings. !!!!  I get to help plan weddings, attend weddings, research weddings, market our weddings, le sigh.  Before you get your panties in a wad, let me be perfectly clear that I under no circumstance, perfect proposal, threat, insanity, or death bed-side wish am anywhere near getting married AT ALL.  Gross.  Barf.  Throat tightening at the mere thought of lifetime commitment.  I’m still quite a young’in and I have quite a prepared speech about how STUPID it is to get married before you have established your own life.  But that’s for another time.  Luckily NPH realizes that my wedding-centered brain is part of my job, an outlet to entertain my inner girly-girl while my practical side knows that many years from now I’ll be celebrating my nuptials at the Hofbrauhaus in Vegas (honeymoon in Munich to follow.) Speaking of my fabulous place of employment, I have this Saturday off and GUESS who’s coming to town?  The nowhere-near-fiance-so-please-stop-asking-even-if-it-is-a-joke boyfriend.  While I’m sure we’d have an uproariously entertaining time just hanging out with the folks, we’re going someplace even better: ADVENTURELAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Famous Dave’s at some point, but I’m not sure you can handle all of this exciting news in one post. The weekend after that is the Fourth of July (whaaaaat?!) and I hope upon hope my schedule will allow a trip to Chicago/ Milwaukee for Summerfest because apparently people wanna meet me.  NPH’s people.  I’m such a gem, I suppose I really can’t blame them.

Happy Father’s Day to the best pops around– Papa K (I have no idea why that caught on.  I believe the nickname was actually the brainchild of the ex-boyfriend.  Mine, not my father’s.) Dad’s the one who originally decided Brittney Had Something (worthy?) to Say and headed up Iowa Girls Gone Wild (not to mention dealt with any possibly legal issues regarding us blatantly ripping off Joe Francis’ lovely franchise.)  He’s the one who figured my brain might need a break and funded my Spring Break expedition back across the Atlantic, only to then have me spend most of that week with my boyfriend.  Speaking of, Dad took NPH to a shooting range two weeks ago when we were in Vegas so they could shoot fully automatic weapons together.  While at first I was certain this was some sort of ploy for the gun to “accidentally” go off in or near one of Neil’s major organs, he in fact came back raving about how that was possibly the best of the trip and “Your dad is awesome.”  This sentiment seems to be echoed by everyone who meets him, because quite frankly, he is awesome.  I was GOING to make him scotcheroos, but we don’t have butterscotch chips and apparently not much actual pre-planning was involved.  Instead, he got a random assortment of his favorite candy and some Mike’s Hard Lemonade because 1.) He really likes it and despite what those middle schoolers may have you think, it’s actually quite a manly drink and 2.) The novelty of legally purchasing alcohol has definitely not worn off yet.  Be sure to check out the “Wisdom from my Father” page up top to get a sampling of his various nuggets of wisdom, all of which have authentically been told to me in various times of trial/tribulation/cockiness/heartbreak/you name it, he likes to have some sort of catchy saying for it.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!!

Long before dawn, I woke up this morning to work a very early event for my internship.  I’d already been up for 12 hours when I got home at 3 p.m.– needless to say my head hurts a bit from being so tired.  This past weekend was the last time I’ll be able to go to Iowa City this month, which is probably best for my car, body, sanity, wallet, etc.  It seems whenever I go, I assault my body with an insanely shiteous eating, drinking, and sleeping schedule, leaving me in recovery mode until the next weekend when the cycle repeats itself.  Not exactly the best lifestyle for a working girl like myself, not to mention one who needs to step up her training for a half marathon (which is in four months.  No, I haven’t forgotten.  No, I’m not running as much as I should be.  When I do, yes I still love it.  I think about it every day before going to work/ after collapsing from exhaustion after work.  Move your ass, Brittney.)

March will be my final Spring Break– the big one, the one as a senior, the one where I’m finally 21 (which is the BEST. AGE. EVER. in case you were wondering.)  As such, much planning needs to go into it and thankfully NPH has devised one amazing road trip destination: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando.  (My parents think I’ve been huffing paint for choosing Florida anytime near Spring Break, but they apparently don’t realize it’s the HARRY POTTER books only in REAL LIFE.)  The best part of this plan is that by driving, we’ll have unlimited access to amazing southern barbecue joints that will probably be the largest slice of my Spring Break budget pie chart.  Though, if you know me even a little, this is still in the OhmygodI’msoexcited phase in which I’ve found myself far too many times, only to never have the plans actually pan out.  But only this time it’s Harry Potter and magic will be involved.

My alarm will go off in six short hours, but I’m much too excited about the Harry Potter theme park-centered Spring Break road trip I’ve decided to go on to get any sleep.  As NPH pointed out, there will be many great hole-in-the-wall barbecue joints between here and Orlando.  I need to start breaking my paycheck down into Rent/ Booze/ Spring Break. Apparently I should also be saving heavily for life post-college,  but I don’t see much room for that in the aforementioned list.

Yes, this post is evidence that I did indeed survive my weekend of post-21st birthday celebrations in Las Vegas.  A grand time was had by all, save for perhaps our livers and wallets.  I gambled for the first time in my life, perhaps $4 total into penny slot machines, and made not a cent of it back.  Our flight from Omaha to Vegas on Thursday afternoon was delayed three hours due to a broken hydraulics system in the plane just before take-off. While we were less than thrilled, Southwest then provided free booze when we finally were airborne– not a bad deal at all.  Unfortunately we began to think we were slightly jinxed when our limo tour around town also went kaput (thankfully on an exit ramp) and a few other transportation-related annoyances that are now a bit hazy to recap.  Clearly we didn’t let any of that stop us and made it to IN-N-OUT BURGER, the super swank nightclub Tryst in the Wynn, Fremont Street, the hotel pool, THE HOFBRAUHAUS, and the Hard Rock Hotel bar a few more times than you might have thought possible.  One of my friends in my program while in Germany lives in Vegas and was able to meet us at the Hofbrauhaus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <–that’s how I excited I was.  We had the best time, and the menu was surprisingly authentic, though the music was not (“Sweet Home Alabama” isn’t exactly a crowd favorite in Deutschland.)  NPH loved the German beer and my favorite mustard so I guess I’ll keep him around for a while.  I’ve been trying not to think about how it’s only been a month since I’ve been back because it feels like a lifetime ago, and sometimes I have dreams where D-bag’s in ‘em or I’m speaking in German and I get very sad.

OVERALL, Vegas = giant success.  I’m both pants-pissing excited and a bit fearful of future roomie Lauren living there after graduation; I’ve been there three times in as many years and don’t see any reason to discontinue the trend.  Perhaps I’ll  branch out from getting sickeningly stuffed on Canter Deli’s turkey reuben every time I go (not likely) or stay at the Paris on my next visit so breakfast can come from their bakery case every morning (has to happen.)  Hopefully the bartenders at the Hard Rock don’t have that quick of a turn around rate since I’m now on first name basis with a few (shout-out to Greg and Joe, and yes, I’m name-dropping.)  While I’m still love love loving my internship, the next countdown is now set for Lollapalooza: I’ll be seeing Lady Gaga in exactly two months.  <There’s not a squeal loud enough to insert here.>