I’ve alluded to this sad, sad addiction previously, but I feel now is the time to do some full disclosure on the blog: I watch Jersey Shore. I love it. I look forward to Thursdays (and not just because it’s the start of my weekend.) This was never supposed to happen. During the first season, I only had peripheral knowledge of this cast of ridiculous guidos and had never seen an episode. Then, right before the second season premiere, there was a Jersey Shore marathon on MTV and a hangover with no cure except mind-numbing pseudo-realistic TV. I blame NPH– he seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of Snooki and Pauly D’s shenanigans, was able to catch me up to speed on all the Sammi/Ronnie drama. Suddenly I was doing the Pauly D Point whenever that damn new Enrique Iglesias song came on (for those of you who don’t know, the video for said extremely catchy ditty is just the cast of the show dancing at an Enrique concert. Pauly D’s only dance move seems to be pointing at the crowd in tandem with the beat, my hypothesis being the more girls he points at, the more likely they will be to “smoosh” with him after the show.) I have conversations about these people with friends, and predict that Snooki Snickers will be this year’s Lady Gaga or Kate Gosselin of Halloween costumes. Do I have my favorites on the show? You bet I do. J-Woww serves no purpose for me, and I’ve come this close to shutting off an episode of Sammi’s ridiculous childlike attitude when it comes to the ol’ Ron-Ron. Snooki’s where it’s at, and not just because she and I are kindred spirits when it comes to all things pickles. The Situation used to annoy the shit outta me, but basically I would choose any guy in the house to hang out with over Ronnie. (Is she still blogging about the Jersey Shore? Well you’re still reading it.) If I could recommend the Rolling Stone issue with Leo DiCaprio on the cover, there’s an article about the show that’s well-written, funny, and gives surprising facts about the cast members pre-MTV fame. My roommate Lauren actually just expressed outloud, “I love these people so much.” (Yes, we’re watching reruns before the new episode tonight.) And I do, too. I don’t know why. I feel like an idiot, but the show (as Marc Jacobs, yes THAT Marc Jacobs said in a recent issue of InStyle) is a good brain vacation. One day they’ll all end up on Where Are They Now or surrounded by their bevies of Italian grandchildren (“THEY’RE NOT ITALIAN.” Yes, citizens of New Jersey, I’ve heard you. Humor us, please.) But until then, long live the Jersey Shore. God bless this Guido Juiceheads, protect them from the diseases that must be floating around in the Smoosh Room, and please, please give Sammi a backbone because this fake Ronnie drama has GOT to stop.

Well, here it is– the night before the last official day of my internship (I’ll be returning next weekend to help with a giant fundraising event, but school starts this Monday!) At 5 p.m. tomorrow, my car– which is currently packed full of Costco grocies, thanks Mom & Dad!– will be speeding down I-80 for my longest stay in Iowa City since December. Some days I thought this day would never come, at other times it seemed to be looming far too quickly in the future. My father asked at dinner tonight (thanks for that, too) how my summer was overall. When people ask me how I am, I usually reply “Fabulous” and they can decide whether I mean it sarcastically that day or not. But “fabulous” is about the only word I can think of to honestly describe the past three months. (Ok, “fantastic” “awesome” “super great” would all work, too.) This summer included turning 21, a trip to the hospital, one incredible trip to Vegas, some bonding with the boyfriend’s hometown, many miles logged on the half marathon training calendar, and of course– one kick ass Lady Gaga show. Sure, there were lots of times I was lonely for my friends in Iowa City, missed Germany, thought my family would drive me absolutely bat-shit crazy, and was a little bored or slightly less enthusiastic about my internship. Those times were quite few, however, and since my internship was the sole reason I was here for the summer in the first place– holy life-changing experiences, Batman. No seriously, it was that awesome. I really, REALLY love my job and I’d like to think I’m really good at it. I learned so much more and have so much more experience in journalism/ PR/ events/ design than I thought I would, and definitely more than my three years of college classes combined. The summer is not over, however– 713 will be bidding it a proper farewell this weekend, and there’s no where I’d rather be. In the meantime, I’ll leave with you some photos of one truly kick-ass summer.

Waking up in Vegas

Low potassium makes for a pokey arm

Not sure I ever told you about my new wheels...

Perez Hilton at One Night in Chicago

Blogging from NPH’s kitchen– his mother made homemade blueberry muffins with streusel topping, add her to the list of things I love. Chicago is an absolute madhouse this weekend, not only because of Lollapalooza but because the weather is gorgeous AND Obama was in town the past couple of days. We didn’t see him, but every member of the Chicago police department seemed to be lining Michigan Avenue. As you may know, I am an avid reader of Perez Hilton’s blog– I don’t care if you judge me or hate him, he is one faboosh flaming former fatty. Anyway, he puts together “One Night In…” concerts when he’s in a city, and last night was a One Night in Chicago show to informally kick off Lolla. GUESS WHO WON TWO TICKETS?!?! Judging from the amount of capital letters in that last sentence, I hope you guessed ME! I invited the ol’ boyfriend to be my plus one, and we headed to the Hard Rock Hotel yesterday afternoon to get our wristbands. Doors were supposed to open at 8:00, we got in line behind about 20 or 30 people at 7:30 and were finally let in a little after 8:30. That hour of standing of people watching along the Magnificent Mile was both hilarious and slightly depressing in that I will never be that thin, have that big of a wardrobe budget, and be able to walk that far in that high of heels on a Thursday night while living my swank entry-level PR job in a major metropolitan area. Not that I really want to. We got inside, found a bar, ordered two drinks (specialty ones named like “Blogger Bomber” and other Perez-related stuff) then found out… wait for it… it was an open bar. That’s right ladies and gentlemen of my readership– FREE BOOZE. All night. UV Vodka was one of the sponsors– needless to say, we were pumped. Don’t think I went all balls to the wall, though (because one, there was no beer anywhere) but two, I needed to say alert and pumped for the Jump Smokers DJ Set, Nneka, J Brazil, Lissie, Kid Sister, and B.o.B. Now the only one in that line-up I’d even heard of was B.o.B. (damn that “Airplanes” is catchy) but I can honestly say they were all AMAZING. I won’t go into detail on each, but I was honestly impressed– Perez can pick some musicians. I ran into a fellow Hawkeye I was in PRSSA with who confirmed that Lady Gaga was indeed supposed to make an appearance (I KNEW it) but cancelled. Bummer. But not that big of a bummer because I’ll be seeing her tonight at Lolla, granted probably hundreds of yards away instead of literally ten feet. Oooh– we’re catching the train back into Chicago now. The train reminds me of Germany, sad; the buildings remind me I could never live in this giant of a place.

Because I just got back from running five miles and am apparently delirious with endorphins, here’s a list of things I LOVE:
1. Comments. Not that you people write many of ‘em, but when I do get ones, nice ones that say “I’m reading! You’re funny! (Blush) You write better than my seven-year-old nephew!” I get all warm and fuzzy inside.
2. My new apartment. I will be posting pictures with roommate permission soon (no, not so you can know where I live then break in and kill me in my sleep– you best know I read that issue of Cosmo.) We have so much SPACE! I look around my room wondering if I should buy more things (shame on you, capitalism.) I literally have so much room for activities! In my past four or five– I move a lot– places I’ve lived, there have been multiple flights of stairs, leaving my father and other strong-armed helpers extremely agitated at my inability to use any sort of common sense when choosing places to live. Not this time; FIRST FLOOR, baby! Also, my roommates are kinda the shit, and we’ve already named our dining room (!!!) Booze-a-palooza because of the unhealthy amount of shot glasses we’ve used for decoration. In the classiest way possible, of course.
3. Running. You knew this, but here’s an update– half marathon training is going (knock on wood) really well, and I’m constantly surprising myself and getting really proud of how far I can run. Cue the Rocky music or get Oprah on the phone because I am becoming that person.
4. NPH. Only because he’s taking me for sushi today since we still haven’t gone after our foiled attempt on Memorial Day. And because he helped me move in yesterday. But those are the only two reasons.
That’s gonna be all for now. My runner’s high is crashing and I’m now ready to chew off my arm– sustenance is greatly needed. Ohhh that reminds me of another thing I’ll add to the list:
5. Restaurants with food before the food. I’m talking bread baskets, chips and salsa, peanuts, etc. If I go to a restaurant, I’m hungry. The WORST wait in the world is the one between ordering and receiving your food. Ok, maybe not the worst, but dare I say it’s comparable to the wait on Christmas morning? My stomach is audibly growling here, Server, let’s get a MOVE on putting my order in.

I’m up weirdly early on a Sunday, filled with anticipation for picking up the keys to my NEW APARTMENT in a few hours. I haven’t actually seen the place– I trust Lauren and Rachael’s judgment (ooh new people to blog about)– and am itching to have my own kitchen, bed, whatever-as-long-as-it’s-not-713 in Iowa City again. Forget that I was just in Vegas less than two months ago when I tell you this, but I wanna go somewhere. Perhaps Colorado to visit D-Bag, or the Caribbean, or Vermont. That last one was only because I’ve never been there, but I imagine it’s nice. Class starts in three weeks, I am quite ambivalent about this, though the mighty job/ internship hunt is ON for the school year. A little part of me dies each time I see NO next to “Is this a paid internship?” on the UI’s Employment Expo (best. invention. ever.) but I’ve accepted that I will probably have to have a paying job not related to my major and then an unpaid internship on the side. And if this all could not take up any time on Saturdays during the months of September and October, that would be ideal; we’ve got some mighty tailgating plans this year. Oh, I ran almost eight miles yesterday. Pretty freakin’ ecstatic with myself. I’m hoping everyone else is town is too hungover to move in right away as I plan on doing– parents in IC, illegal parking, unloading heavy furniture, spider webs in my storage unit all give me unnecessary anxiety. I’m wearing a lovely pair of jorts for the move, be jealous.

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.

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.

Wordpress tells me this is my 100th post <insert golf claps here.>  Here’s to hoping the next 100 are a bit more, uhh relevant than the last ones.  I’ve had a hankering for a grilled cheese for a while, but today when I pulled out our Cuisinart Panini Press, it fell through the bottom of the box and pieces of metal went flying and I decided to not take my chances on all the exposed wires in the back.  RIP, magic appliance that can make sandwiches AND pancakes.  I made one on our George Foreman instead, but went all FANCY with turkey and tomatoes and my favorite German mustard.  The mustard that is dwindling in supply because apparently someone in my family likes it as much as I do.  Fun fact: I didn’t even used to like mustard, now it’s one of my top three condiments.  Because you needed to know that.  Tomorrow is a BIG DAY in the life of Brittney: after work (which comes after waking up before dawn but before driving two hours to Iowa City) I’m meeting the parents. NPH’s parents are rolling into town to, I’m not sure what, take him out on the town for a belated birthday meal or something.  For some reason, I have extreme fear (mostly irrational, he informs me) about this meeting.  Parents generally don’t like me, especially not when I’m nervous and extra awkward and get up to pee no less than four times during a meal, making them also think I have a debilitating cocaine addiction.  What are we supposed to talk about?  What should I order?  Will his mother bore her eyes into my soul and know that occasionally I get handsy with her son?!  I will obviously let you know how this riveting mealtime exchange goes, but this camp is preparing for the worst.

Happy 2010, my loves!!!  I hope your hangovers are being kind.  Supposedly Diet Coke from McDonald’s has medicinal powers on the brown bottle flu– really whatever works for you: Taco Bell, Pepto-Bismal, staying in bed all day, a gun…

This year is set up to be the best ever.  Four months in Germany, come back and turn 21, then only two semesters of college left?  Yes, please.  I’m not quite sure how I feel about New Year’s resolutions– I’m not exactly the “If you want to change your life, don’t wait til January!” type person, but I also haven’t ever kept a resolution to date that I can remember.  But in the spirit of blogging, I will now put some down and check back in a few months on my progress. 

MY 2010 RESOLUTIONS: (holy balls I just realized that this is also the start of a new decade and this time NEXT decade I’ll be 30.  Hyperventilation.  Do you know how many of my friends are going to get married and have kids in the next ten years?  I’M probably going to get married– dont worry, no kids– WEEEEEEIIIIIRRRRDDDD.)

1. Stop swearing so much.  I curse/swear/cuss a LOT.  I should probably stop.  At least in mixed company.  Or at least stop having the F-bomb be the first word I say pretty much every morning (I actually tried to monitor that and it is fact.)

2. I ALWAYS am trying to lose weight– in a constant quest to wake up one morning with Gisele’s body.  So far this hasn’t really worked out for me.  So uh, I guess resolution #2 will be to work out more.  Or at all.  Even just like a brisk walk around the block on every full moon.  Baby steps.

3. Give at least one compliment a day.  Contrary to popular belief, I am not a heinous bitch, I just often avoid conversation with others.  Often I have thoughts about people “Oh wow, cute sweater” or “Her hair doesn’t look like complete shit today” but don’t vocalize them.  Whenever people give me compliments I think WOW nicest person ever, thank you– yet I don’t do it for others.  So I will try.  Even if it’s “Your face doesn’t look like it’s been horribly burned” which YES I’ve said in actual conversation to a person I thought was cute.  It didn’t translate well.

4. Get me one of them boyfriend things.  Yep people, it’s time.  Brittney has had over a year to sow her wild oats around the greater Eastern Iowa area, but it’s time to settle down.  I’d like to think I’m a fabulous girlfriend, and since I’m gonna be a “senior” and stuff, soon to “graduate” and hopefully find “steady employment,” someone to share the ride would fit nicely.  (This one is post-study abroad, of course.  Not that I’m opposed to any Hans or Franz becoming smitten with me– who could blame them– but I’m generally not looking for monogamy in ze Motherland.)

Can four be enough?  The chances that even one of these will happen are quite remote (okay, the working out more actually will because when I get back to Iowa City it’s peak running outside weather and I really enjoy that.)  I supposed #5 should be find an internship but that’s LAME and it reminds me of the goals we make for class and WHO CARES because sandwich making and drug dealing are really all I aspire to in life anyway.

“When are you due?”

“Excuse me?”

“Aren’t you pregnant?  You must be having triplets or something, at least eight months along I’d guess.”

“Nope.  Just a food baby.  A pretty epic Christmas indeed.”

And THAT’S how I imagine a random conversation going in the grocery store tomorrow should I find the motivation or ability to get up from the prone position I’ve just kind of fallen into. 

SO.MANY.THINGS. happened today:

1.) My father noticed the um, crack in my laptop that’s been hanging out on the right hinge of the screen for like, I don’t know… a month or so?  Or three?  It was way worse and I kind of just popped it back in place (yep, he’s not thrilled.  I am a dumbass.)  He asked what my genius self planned to do if the screen decided to just crap out on my one day, perhaps when I’m say, ohhhh THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY FROM HOME.  And I said “Uhh… Internet cafe?”  Wrong answer.  So now I get to decide whether to take my chances with this slightly handicapped Dell OR use some of my Christmas money to buy a new one.  I’m no math wizard, but the voices of reason in my life are gunning for me to get a new one to ensure (insure?) my sanity while abroad.  This option does not work well with my natural frugalness (parents, do NOT laugh– just because I can spend money like a drunken sailor at a strip club doesn’t mean this is something I want to spend said money on.)

2.) That guy tried to blow up that plane while landing in Detroit.  Normally, I don’t give two shits about things in the world not directly affecting me (I know, how mature of me) but this DOES alter my life, don’t you see?!?!  We fly out on Tuesday for Miami and sure as shit the FAA has already been all “We’re stepping up airport securtiy” AGAIN.  Even though everyone knows that if some guy on the news gets busted for sneaking bombs on in his shoes, the LAST TIME you’d want to repeat said manuever would be directly following said criminal activity.  Because that’s the first place they’re gonna look.  This is not rocket scientist, it is simply a childhood of a few too many Saturday morning cartoons.

3.) AND THIS IS A BIG ONE: So my friend Lauren (@laurensieben for all you Twitter freaks) was all “Yo Brittney, your blog is rad, we’re both studying abroad, let’s be rad together.”  So she and I now have a NEW BLOG that is devoted to our adventures in Europe.  (It is conveniently listed in the blogroll to your right!)  We have a lot in common–journalism majors, severe sarcasm, the wish to one day not be stuck busing tables forever, the ability to make at least two people outside of our families chuckle with our writing.  She’ll be in Spain, I’ll be in Germany.  Props to Papa K for getting creative with the doman name (Iowa Girls Gone Wild…hehe– we have no moral objections to our target audience being misguided perverts) and getting it all set up.

BUT WAIT, BRITTNEY– what does that mean for this little gem of a site?!?!  Never fear, you all know I’m much too self-serving to let my little Brittney Has Something To Say (dot com!  T-shirts available soon!) go by the wayside.  Perhaps when I’m lazy I’ll copy/paste the same post on both blogs.  There will certainly not be fresh content on both every day, or even every other– I plan on actually experiencing Europe and then perhaps filling in the details for you as an afterthought.  I haven’t actually thought that far ahead.  My main concern at the moment is what to wear home tomorrow since I’m quite certain I didn’t pack any muumuu’s big enough to cover this post-holiday girth.

Ohhh and I forget to tell you the absolute best part of today:

4.) I’m learning how to look into the webcam while Skyping instead of using it as a mirror.  Baby steps, people– baby steps.