You know when you just know that a satellite in space can see that your ass is equivalent in size to one of those smaller chain islands in the South Pacific? Yeah, it’s been that kind of day. If you couldn’t already tell, NPH’s mom definitely delivered on the pumpkin bread, and he held up his end of the bargain with giving me the whole top slice (and most of the middle and sides, too.) She also brought a pan of lasagna (with spinach!) and extra-dark homemade brownies, but my tummy doesn’t want to discuss these things. I would also like to not talk about the Hawkeye game last night– there’s nothing to say but congratulations to Arizona and holy Lord, Ricky Stanzi– cut that hair. My time at home was successful, albeit it a bit too kettle corn laden… oh, who am I kidding, that’s not really possible. Savannah and I went to Going the Distance– SOOOOO cute, made me miss NPH (we had been apart approximately four hours at that point. Yes, I’m that person.) Afterward I had fun reminiscing with her mother, who has recently become a reader — HI, AMY!!!– and who I hope has finally tried pretzel M&Ms. Speaking of those little spherical devils, Roomie Lauren was kind enough to ration me out a baggie-ful from her party size bag, lest she come back from Maryland tomorrow to find them all gone. I decided they would make the perfect road trip treat and gave them prime passenger seat status, however got a tummyache about halfway in. To save me from myself, I threw the bag with the rest into the far corner on the floor of the other side of the car so I wouldn’t be tempted to snack on ‘em out of boredom. Well, I’m sure you can see where this is going. Speeding down I-80 near Newton, I realized those pretzel M&Ms once again had to be mine. What to do, what to do– cause a thirty car pile up even though they were clearly out of my reach, pull over, live without them? Clearly none of these. I grabbed a library book out of my backpack and used it as an arm extension to lean over– keeping half an eye on the road, of course– and flail it about, trying to flip the magical treats into arm’s reach. This actually wasn’t nearly as complicated or dangerous as it sounds, and I was able to finish those babies long before entering Polk County. Success. I’ve found I enjoy sucking on them to melt and eat all the chocolate, then enjoy the pretzel center on it’s own. It would be probably be healthier and less time-consuming to just buy a bag of pretzels, but that would ruin all the fun.

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.

Today and tomorrow are my weekend since I’m working on Friday night and Saturday.  Our family four-pack hit up the movie theater before noon so Papa K and I could see Iron Man 2 while T-Bone and the brother went to some Robin Hood snooze-fest.  Two buckets of kettle corn and over two hours of the ridiculous hotness that is Robert Downey, Jr. make for a pretty great afternoon.  The movie was actually much better than I was anticipating– better than the first, far better than most sequels.  I was also insanely jealous of the Louboutin’s both Gwenyth and Scarlett were sporting in even their most harrowing of action scenes. Our movie got out before the Men in Tights one, so Dad and I headed over to Panera to stock up on carbs for God knows what reason.  The bakery section, once enough to bring me to my knees and possibly tears, was quite frankly pathetic.  Four months in Europe has made me quite the elitest bitch when it comes to pastries.  We ended up with a baguette and loaf of sourdough (and maybe some other things, but that’s neither here nor there) for sandwiches and what not later.  To be fair, Germany is lacking in the bagels department while America seems to have it’s bases well covered with them.

When I’m not at work, I feel quite lazy.  And lonely, but that’s because any friends of decent importance are two hours away in various directions.  My ass needs to get back into motion (really, any sort of physical motion at all) because I will soon grow bed sores and become one with my mattress.  I went to the library and checked out a book (a fiction one!  That I’ve been reading for pleasure) and alternate my time with that, the Internet, and sweet sweet slumber.  My ice cream consumption has also skyrocketed exponentially, perhaps directly correlated with the outside temperature, though probably more to do with the awesome new flavors at the Korner Kone just down the road.  In retrospect, this post has basically reported to the world all of the heinous overeating I did today.

If Diet Pepsi and brownies for breakfast is wrong, I don’t want to be right… especially these homemade brownies with walnuts that NPH’s mom sent for his birthday on Monday.  His blessed 21st will be properly celebrated on Friday evening following the culmination of finals week.  The Facebook event calls for classy dress, and most of the house is headed to Goodwill this week to find the perfect fancy attire– English gentlemen’s outfits, suits, fedoras, two-tone shoes, etc.  I am way too excited to be on official birthday cake duty.

So far, being back in America has been… uneventful.  This past weekend was a blur of jet lag, unpacking, and odd amounts of cake (Mother’s Day and Kayla’s graduation party <– because my best friend is officially a college graduate weird.)  One of my 713ers commented that Germany had been kind to my girlish figure, but I can assure him that one week in Iowa City can pretty much undo whatever four months of heavy beer drinking and daily pastry eating magically didn’t.  My less than 72 hours in this wonderful land of the Hawkeyes could so far be summed up as The Care and Feeding of NPH (who, for those of you who live under a rock/ DIDN’T subscribe to my study abroad blog, somehow became Boyfriend instead of just Bestie during my time away.)  Not that the kid isn’t fully functioning on his own, but he has four finals this week and works two jobs, not to mention what do I really have else to do but make sure he’s getting three square meals a day?  Playing House is actually insanely boring, and I can only make so many pepperoni and cheese omelettes before I want to take the pan and beat him over the head with it.   Luckily I have a Mesa date with Natalie for lunch today (if the weather wanted to stop being so PMS-y by then, that’d be much appreciated) and other girl friends to keep me sane when I just can’t take anymore gratuitous junk-grabbing/ unnecessary outbursts in the throes of video game playing passion/ Sun Chip inhaling.

Speaking of, Sun Chips were on sale.  What is your favorite flavor?  Choose wisely.  There is a divide in the house (Original is not even a contender in this race– it’s between Cheddar and Peppercorn Ranch.  Does anyone even buy French Onion?  I suppose you can vote for Garden Salsa if those are your true feelings, but I’d appreciate your help in deciding the Cheddar/ Peppercorn Ranch final round.)

My 21st birthday is three weeks from yesterday.

My brother is currently reading a map of Germany to me.  Way too much fun to handle.  We’re waiting to go to the airport to take off to sunny Miami (with a connecting flight in Atlanta– 1. I hate layovers.  2. I have never been to Atlanta and was all YOU’RE SO WRONG when NPH told me that’s most likely where we’d be connecting so now I owe him like a quarter or something.)

I’m not a huge candy bar/ chocolate fan, but if I had to choose, Twix bars are pretty boss.  I had a slight obsession with them as a child.  This may or may not have been a factor in my moderate childhood obesity.

OH so after the shiteous time I had in the theater watching It’s Complicated, Papa K and T-Bone took me out to a boss fancy dinner AND a movie the next night (yes, it really is great to be me.)  We saw Up in the Air which I liked about a bajillion times better.  It was visually clean, the story made sense, the whole message was you need a partner in life because “Think of your favorite memories– were you alone?”  My parents weren’t exactly as big of fans as I was.  Dad said he knew people who would legitimately leave the theater and straight up want to kill themselves.  I suppose for people who’ve spent their lives trying to find a “copilot” (the movie was about flying?  Life partner = copilot?  GET IT?!)  or had one then lost them it would be a mondo sobfest.  But for moi, a strapping young buck in the prime of her youth, I thought it was very inspirational like YEA!  Life partner!  I’m gonna go out and find my lifemate.  Also, George Clooney is increasingly hotter as he gets older.  That blonde chick from The Departed is in it who I’m sorry but is not that attractive.  Also, the really funny guy from The Hangover is in it for like two minutes in the beginning.  So TWO THUMBS UP from this one.

Also, at dinner beforehand, I had creme brulee for dessert.  Holy tummyache-inducing awesomeness.  I’ve had it once before, I believe the term I coined was “dessert mayonnaise.”  (I don’t even like mayo, it’s just a delicious creamy white consistency… upon further thought, I’m going to change the subject now.)

Collectively as a family we’re hoping there is a Waffle House near our hotel tomorrow morning.

Let’s talk about some of the things I got for Christmas:

– lots of clothes (that I picked out in advance!  And I wanted!  And that fit!  We’re making progress!)  Boots and gloves and scarves so that I won’t actually freeze to death, and sweaters that make me look like a girl, and an official Iowa tailgating t-shirt AND a t-shirt with lobstahs on it that are all speaking in Bahhhhstan accents.  “Pahk the cah!”

–money, in US dollars and Euros (because, if you’re keeping count, I’m 13 days away)

–a digital camera (you, dear reader, should be most psyched about this, suddenly you’ll be getting pics of EVERYTHINGINMYLIFE.) I will try my darndest to not get this one stolen/drop it/ lose it/spill on it… I don’t exactly have the best track record with these things.  Or with cell phones.  Oops.

–And finally, my beloved webcam to Skype everyone whilst abroad.  I’ve also discovered that it takes nothing more to keep me occupied for hours than to watch myself make faces via webcam.  While Skyping NPH last night, I spent more time looking at myself and playing with my hair than paying attention to what he was saying.  Sorry, buddy.

So uhhh MERRY CHRISTMAS– Grandma and T-Bone are currently making enough food for about 30 people even though there are only eight of us for dinner this year.  Last night we did the whole Christmas Eve church thing and there was a REAL BABY playing Jesus.  They passed out candles to light and hold while singing, but they passed em out way too early and the entire congregation was fixated on playing with their candle, trying to melt the plastic protect-y cup it was in, burn their neighbor with wax, send smoke signals up to the Big Man himself… oh wait, maybe that was just me.  Perhaps this is why Kayla says I am like a small child.  No apologies here–  if you give me flame, all other things go by the wayside, unless there’s a REAL BABY playing Jesus in the room, and then my mind is just blown.

Oh, I also got Iowa Hawkeyes barbecue sauce in my stocking.  BE JEALOUS.

A week from today will be 2010!!  Aka, I’ll be waking up with a wicked hangovah next to a hottie somewhere in the Carribbean.  Yesterday I got pretty freakin’ excited for our cruise.  Still not sure which genius planned a tropical vacation right after the calorie-fest of Christmas, but whatever (haha Dad– I kid.)  I’m sure this will be leagues better than last New Year’s Eve which involved a lot of Britney Spears music, a short-lived trip to Union and a rugby player (okay, so last years was actually fabulously boss.  What can I say– it’s terribly hard to live my life.)

Methinks I’m going to go help more in the kitchen now– I’ve already peeled a bunch of parsnips and chopped an onion and eaten a bunch of food done some dishes.  Happy Freakin’ Holidays!!

By some miracle (and with a little help from a super cutie at Hy-Vee) I got enough boxes and found enough motivation to pack all my shit and have officially MOVED OUT.  Adios, adorable loft apartment only steps from downtown but a bit out of my price range.  It’s been fun.  I suppose I can no longer climb those bajillion fafillion stairs every day and call it exercise.

T-Bone and Papa K rolled in to help haul stuff to my storage unit, and NPH decided to come along for the ride.  And then I abandoned the poor kid with my parents while going to finally sign over the lease to our subletters.  I do hope they got along swimmingly.  Dad only called NPH the name of my ex-boyfriend a handful of times, and my mother got enlightened by Neil’s freak knowledge of the differences between Britain’s political parties.  So basically… I had to do minimal work and that. was. awesome.  Even awesome-er was LUNCH at WHICH WICH and I got my black bean patty with avacado, BBQ, sauerkraut, and some other stuff– it did not disappoint.  I was sta-HARV-ing because I hadn’t eaten for like… 14 hours.  WHAT?!  I know.  Unfathomable.

I am now sitting at 713, my new home, my future home (Dad, you HAVE to be on board with this now– NO STAIRS!!)  waiting for the going away festivities to start.  Oh and, NPH and I bought apple brats for dinner.  As if you didn’t see that coming.  AND a new flavor of BBQ sauce (since my Christmas gift of assorted sauces hasn’t arrived yet.)

OH, so last night, me and my main bitch Lauren (saying good-bye to her tonight SAD FACE) went to the always classy Piano Lounge for cheap martinis and to flirt shamelessly with the musician, who played guitar instead of the usual piano.  And he WINKED AT ME while playing SWEET CHILD O MINE.  Is there anything more?  Nope.  Stick a fork in me, I’m done.  Might kill myself because life doesn’t get much better than that (note: that was a JOKE. If you are a mandatory reporter, I assure you, I am not a self-harm risk.)  He was probably super turned on by the fact I was charging my phone in a random outlet I found in the center of the bar.  It wasn’t that crowded, don’t worry.

Alrighty tighty, Kiddos– I’m out like Adam Lambert.  I’ll make sure and heed the wisdom my father imparted to me before leaving today… “It’s your last night.  Don’t do anything silly, anything memorable.”  Oh don’t worry, I definitely won’t be remembering it

It’s PACKING DAY!!  Almost as fun as moving day.  Almost.  The real question on everyone’s minds is WHERE TO EAT LUNCH tomorow with the parents and NPH (that’s right people, they’re meeting.  Get excited.  My mother will fawn over his rugged Brawny paper towel man looks and my father will get deeply engrossed in conversation with him about manly things like how best to manuever my 600 pound television down four flights of stairs.  OR… he and I show up hungover and they say Oh hey, so you’re the one she’s always blogging about, thanks for helping.  My money’s on scenario two.)  I’m thinking Which Wich since I can’t leave the great US of A without one last black bean patty on wheat with avocado and barbecue sauce YUM YUM YUM excited.  Or the Hamburg Inn.  Or the Pit for some BBQ.  Dammit.  “You wanna see Brittney’s head totally spin?  Ask her where she wants to eat.  She can’t do it.” — my father.  It is true.  Indecisiveness is one of my few character flaws.

You know what SUCKS?  My milk-to-cereal ratio for lunch was way off.  I don’t oft’ buy cereal, especially not Rice Krispies (can I get a woo-hoo for Reese’s Puffs and Grape Nuts?!  Not together of course) but they were left over from baking.  And I’m a sucker for how much noise they make when you put the milk on ‘em.  Hehehe more foods should make sounds.  While I’m on this random food tangent, let me say that I have no problem with lukewarm foods.  Or cold food.  I don’t often eat hot food.  One of the ladies at work was SO. DISGUSTED. that for lunch one day I whipped a can of soup out of my bag, pulled off the top and dug right in.  Cold.  I also eat with my hands whenever possible (but not soup DUH.)  Both Natalie & NPH have commented in the last week on my um, interesting style of eating.  Namely pulling eveything apart and picking at things and re-forming them and generally treating mealtime like a toddler.  And I WONDER why I don’t go on more dates…

In the name of making this post longer while relieving myself to FINALLY PACK… (maybe)… I will now post the blog NPH penned one evening entitled “Why I’m a Weak Drinker” (apparently I don’t wish to ever have legitimate employment).  Note that his FULL NAME is in it– all his doing– so you can all go Google and Internet stalk him and show up at his house and peer in his windows and I will laugh heartily.

“Hey My name is Brittney, I’m a pretty good drinker. Let me just say however that I bow to Neil Ledford in terms of drinking. He is a far better drinker than me. I wish, every night I wish I had his ability. Sadly however, it is impossible for me to gain his ability. I can only hope!”

Thanks, buddy.  I would just like to point out the size difference between the two of us so I would HOPE the kid could put much more away than I.  We should probably work on getting real hobbies at some point…

Bomb: -noun

1. Military. a projectile, formerly usually spherical, filled with a bursting charge and exploded by means of a fuze, by impact, or otherwise, now generally designed to be dropped from an aircraft.

…a few alternate definitions, then

6.  Slang.

or, one might use it as a verb in this example: “Brittney completely bombed her final.”

Yep.  Ouch.  Painful.  And I studied.  I really actually opened the textbook (kind of a big deal for me) read and re-read the notes, made a bunch of flashcards, memorized em… but the 7:30 am time got the best of me.  I know I know more than I knew, but it just wasn’t coming to me.  Four pages of matching– complete clusterfuck; multiple choice about the FCC and cable and who owns what and does broadcast TV use coaxial cables under which Broadcasting Act from what Decade– I’m supposed to KNOW this?!; and then the essays.  Oh baby the essays.  If anything, I might have actually done my best on those, or at least in comparison to the rest of that horrid pile of filth and dribble I turned it after 1.5 hours of pure, horrible mental torture.

ANYWAY.  So then I went home and slept.  And slept some more.  And woke up going BOW HOWDY now if I only had some boxes and some motivation to pack the rest of my apartment, I’d just be super prepared for moving out on Friday!  But nope.  I am currently doing the only thing (well, besides blogging– per threats suggestion from Natalie– and excessive drinking, that’ll come later) that I know to do in these times of severe pseudo-crises… baking.  HEY– I’m legitimately using up many of the ingredients I’ve amassed over a year of living here so really, it’s all working towards the goal of pullin’ up my roots and headin’ out.

Speaking of Natalie (Girrrrl, your name just got mentioned twice in a post) she and I met at the always fabulous Mesa Pizza yesterday because 1. It’s awesome and 2. She had a present to give me.  I KNOW.  How great is she.  Anyway, she FORGOT the present at home, so we noshed on our faboooooosh slices and flirted a bit with the behind-the-counter guys and then she brought me my gift later which I can’t really tell you what it is but it’s a-MAZ-ing.  I will wear it often.  It is a shirt.  That I wanted.  That she got for free through her super secret hook-ups.  She really swims her way into people’s hearts <insert uproarious guffawing here for inside jokes.>

Also, I figured out what NPH’s gift to me is the other day.  Because I am a snoopy bitch.  And because he made the mistake of telling me where one of them came from, and when the source is a town of about 800 people in Iowa, it’s not that hard to Google and figure out the only thing they manufacture there.  (Hint: it’s Wall Lake, Iowa if you’re that interested.)  There are two other similar things, but they are shipping from farther SOUTH– so you know they’re gonna be good.

It’s probably dinnertime where you are, but thanks to my extreme inability to deal with even remotely unnerving situations well, all I’ve been able to pick at today is Rice Krispies.  If you think this is causing me to become fabulously thin, well then you are WRONG, Mister.  Roomie made scrambled eggs and methinks I’ll make some myself, there seems to be a rumbly in my tumbly (Winnie the Pooh reference– GOD I’M MATURE.)

Who called classes being cancelled today?  THIS GUY.  You can hire me out as a psychic if you want.  Even though the rest of campus got to sleep in til their hearts content, I woke up before the sun and went to work.  Sigh the shameless things I do for money.  About halfway through the day though I said Eff This and blazed my way through the BLIZZARD to 713 because NPH and I have papers due as well as co-dependency issues.  Needless to say, not much headway has been done on my article due tomorrow.

The antibiotics have kicked in and BOY HOWDY do I feel 100% better.  After work yesterday I went holiday baking cr-AZ-y and whipped up some peanut butter balls, frosted sugar cookies, and chocolate covered pretzels to give to some of my favorite locals/ those I owed favors to (for those of you getting all pissed because you were given the shaft: cool your jets– T-Bone’s shipped over a box of brownie mix, sprinkles, etc. and you will be recipients of Holiday Baking Extravaganza Round II.)

Apparently there is a university-wide snowball fight happening at the Pentacrest right now.  Over 3,000 people have RSVPed on Facebook (even though they just sent an update that the snow is terrible for packing.)  Lo siento, but this kind of shit really does not trip my trigger.  First of all: IT’S COLD AS BALLS OUTSIDE.  Secondly, I don’t like my peers near enough to meet them en mass and talk about “Ohemgeebestsnowdayever!!!”  We had two our freshman year, I’m over it.  If anything, I really wish we had school today because the ONE PRESENTATION we were being graded on the ENTIRE SEMESTER in one of my classes was supposed to be today.  So… not really sure where we’re going from here.  I do know that exactly 24 hours from now, my semester is over save one final next Wednesday morning.

Melanie my language buddy responded to some of my questions I had about Luneburg.  To my GREAT PLEASURE she informed that it rains most nearly every day there.  Awesome.  At least I’ll save room in my suitcase not bringing any hair products/appliances.  She also thankfully told me that every student at Leuphana University speaks English– they’re not allowed admission if they don’t.  So while I plan on being quite fluent in German when I leave, at least there won’t be a complete language barrier when I arrive.

Pee Wee’s Big Adventure is on in half an hour– a greater gift from God than any snow day could ever be.