Mom’s package came in the mail today.  If you have a hankering for triple chocolate Ghiradelli brownies anytime in the next week, I’m your girl.

I turned my journalism scholarships application in today with three hours to spare!  Deadlines are the only thing that gets my work done.  At the beginning of every semester I have great intentions to do ALLMYWORK within the first two weeks, but that always gives way to doing a shoddy job moments before everything’s due.  I see no reason to change this– I’ve operated pretty well like this for twenty years.  The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.  <– I don’t know who originally said this, but I completely ripping them off.

You know who thinks it’s hi-LAR-ious to change people’s Facebook statues or tweets or blog posts when they remain logged in on an abandoned computer?  NPH.  Last night was the first and hopefully only time I have fallen victim to this.  While it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out the perpetrator (his blog post was all about his vast superiority because he can drink more than me), I do appreciate him checking the BBC’s Web site for international news mid-shenanigan and later discovering it on my computer history.

Christmas is TWO weeks away!  Roomie has informed me that Hanukkah starts tonight.  Mazel tov?  I can get down with celebrating eight nights in a row.

So I have this idea, and I think you’re really going to like it.  A rent-a-baby service.  People like babies, but don’t want to have any of their own (I’m generally going to market this to the college-aged population.)  If a mom wants an afternoon away from her screaming kid, she drops it off at my rent-a-baby service and someone can come by and take it out on the town for about an hour.  She doesn’t have to pay for a babysitter, you don’t have to pay to hang out with a baby.  But only cool babies.  If you have a boring baby, you are not allowed to have people rent it. ”Oh wow, I’m really enjoying my walk through the ped mall today, but it’d be a lot better if I had a BABY with me.”   “Oh hey there’s Brittney– and she’s hanging out with a baby!  Ohhh, what tomfoolery she’s always getting in to.”  We’ll get into the whole diaper-changing/ background checks thing later, but I’m fairly certain you’re just as sold on this idea as me.

Well folks, I’m itching for an ADVENTURE.  Most people on campus are “staying in” this weekend and “studying” for “final exams.”  These phrases confuse me.  If I end up at 713 next to Neil on the couch, I will scream.  A change of scenery is always appreciated.  Perhaps I will go paint my nails now.  Or frost some cookies.  Yep– THIS IS MY LIFE.

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.

Yeah, Minnesota– keep turning it over to us. 

We’ve rendezvoused in Kansas City with my dad’s side of the family after a fun-filled three hour road trip.  If you should ever get the chance to be a fly on the wall during one of these rides, you should really jump at it.  Think a lot of group sing-alongs (Salt ‘n Pepa’s “Push It” is a crowd favorite), air-guitaring to 80s hair bands, really inappropriate conversation thanks to the college students in the back, and some reminders to not “be dumb and do drugs” courtesy of Mom.

It’s noon, I think the first draft of my story was due at 10 am.  Or midnight.  I don’t really remember, obviously let’s keep our fingers crossed for the latter.

GREAT NEWS: I’ll be living at 713 next year.  It has been decided.  This is essentially already where I live; the only difference is I can have my own bed instead of always passing out falling asleep on the couch.  Now Pops, I realize you may be reading this thinking, “Dream another dream, this dream’s over.”  (That is actually a phrase he uses– for more oft’ sung phrases, check out the Wisdom from my Father tab at the top.)  But I will prepare a PowerPoint and some Excel documents to show exactly this is my best possible living situation.  Reason #1 of course being the washer and dryer in the basement instead of saving every blank-blankin’ quarter I can get my hands on.

Hmmm what should I be thankful for today?  At our Thanksgiving on Thursday I suggested we all go around and say one thing we’re thankful for as our prayer, but apparently everyone had done that at work earlier (oh, if you didn’t know, my friend pool is quite incestuous and they ALL work at the same place, I am one of maybe three of us who’s out of the loop.)  One of my friends said he was thankful for seedless grapes.  Another said crayons.

So today I’m thankful for… dishwashers.  How freakin’ awesome are they?!  Dishes are NOT my thing. Well, housework in general really isn’t, but I’d rather kill all the trees on the Earth for my paper plates than do a sinkful of dishes every night.  I’ve lived in apartments that like, didn’t have a dishwasher.  I know!  I’m not quite sure how I survived either.  To think that like… in the dark ages… when our parents were like, not super old… they didn’t have such modern conveniences.  Oh… my father has just informed me that there were dishwashers in the ’80s.  So now there is really no legitimate reason for me not to build a time machine and travel back to when Guns n Roses were touring at their peak.

In my many years of roaming this Earth, I’ve had more holiday meals than I can count.  This is partly because I have three sets of grandparents and we celebrate holidays separately with each of them.  But it’s mostly because our family really likes to eat.  With so many under my belt, I realize what I’m about to say is a pretty bold statement, but follow me here:

Last night’s Thanksgiving dinner with my friends was the best holiday meal in the history of time.

Everyone ’round the table agreed.  It. Was. Perfect.  Before seeing Adam Richman (which we’ll get to a little while later) I dropped off my b-e-a-UTIFUL pie at 529.  You can all imagine what this house usually looks like; it’s residents are four 20 & 21-year-old males.  One of their entire walls is a shrine of empty beer cans and a rainbow of empty Smirnoff bottles, with a Jack Daniels flag over the whole thing.  It is not unusual to step over bodies when over for a visit.

So imagine my complete shock when I walked in and the place was sparkling.  We’re talking counters so clean we could have eaten off ‘em, nary an empty alcohol container out of place, they’d put leaves in their dining room table and it was SET– complete with real silverware and folded napkins.  I almost cried.  The four boys who live there were wearing khakis, dress shirts, and their shirts were tucked in.  It was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. 

When I returned for dinner, Bestie had the turkey all ready to go.  I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A BEAUTIFUL TURKEY IN MY LIFE.  You so think I’m exaggerating, but I took a bazillion cell phones pics and will prove it to you.  The best part was it actually tasted fantastic.  This bird was ridonculous.  And he was just all, “It’s no big thing, I just Googled ‘turkey recipe.’”  In addition, the 529′ers had made mashed potatoes, gravy, deviled eggs, rolls, and corn on the cob (box potatoes, pre-made throw in the oven rolls, and Hy-Vee deviled eggs, but STILL!!).  We had a salad and cranberry sauce and held hands and said grace and everyone was nice to each other and there was Christmas music in the background and it was so, so awesome.  As someone around the table said, “I love you guys so much right now.”  SO. TOUCHING.  It’s okay, go ahead and grab a tissue.

The best part was probably the “cider wine” that was concocted– aka, a box of Franzia white wine mixed with apple juice and some cinnamon.  You know, real classy shit.  And then we had pie (which was a super big hit– I am so getting the bid for the room in 713 opening up next August), so by the time it was all said and done, we were ready for bed.  But we watched Training Day instead.  Everyone helped clean up and talked about how this was way better than any holiday dinner we have with our families because we could yell “Penis!” as loud as we wanted (I would like to point out I am not the one who made this discovery, but it did keep some people around the table entertained for way too long.  Yeah, yeah– so we’ve discovered there’s a difference between classy and mature.)  And then one of my friends went to go carve the rest of the turkey because “If I don’t do it now, no one will” and everyone in unison said something about that’s EXACTLY what their mothers say on Thanksgiving (only usually about dishes or putting away leftovers.)  They even packed everyone take-home plates  because “There’s just so much food!” 

Bee tee dubz, I’m home alone right now and have discovered the Christmas candy Mom has made  to go to Kansas City with us later this afternoon.  Helllooooo, peanut clusters.  And peanut butter balls.  And chocolate-dipped pretzels.  I also found the veggie tray, but eff that noise.

ANYWAY– so Adam Richman.  This engagement was NOT about Man vs. Food, to the chagrin of at least half the people in attendance, most especially the three bros behind me.  The beginning was B-O-R-I-N-G, he repeated himself over and over talking about all the different cultures in Brooklyn and how they all bring their own stories to the food we eat, and we all have our own story, and don’t let anyone tell you your story sucks, and he grew up with an awesome story, and shuuuuuuuuuuuuuut up.  Yeah, I get it.  People from China eat different food than the Norse.  MOVE ON.  Then he started talking about the history of certain foods, and I mean DETAILED history.  Like, he knows dates and places and names of rulers that most history majors don’t know, which is way cool for some people, but I had classy cider wine drinking to do, you know?  Though if I’m ever on Jeopardy and get asked what country the bagel originated in, I will leap over my podium, assault Trebek with my buzzer and yell “WHAT IS AUSTRIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  (And you thought it was Israel.)

Anywhoodles, then he moved onto to the “cooking demonstration” portion of the evening.  He was sweating “like R. Kelly at the Kids’ Choice Awards” (his words, not mine) during this entire thing and wiping his sweat on his hands up through his hair, no biggie… til he went to make spaghetti carbonara… and didn’t wash his hands.  I’m certainly not the germ police, but even I was like ew-uh.  The dish smelled insanely awesome though, and now I have a super fast and easy recipe should I ever need to make gourmet semi-Italian food in a dorm room.  Then he did a Q&A portion with the audience and then it was done.  Would I see him again?  No.  Would I recommend people go see this?  Probably not.  This might even make me a bit turned off to Man vs. Food.  I don’t know why, I just wasn’t super feeling him.  But he did refer to himself as “Jewy McJew Pants” more than once, and I laughed.

Today I’m thankful for my dear brother (who I may or may not have just accidentally ratted out to Mom that he’s hungover and now he’s gonna be all mad at me SORRY, I’ll throw myself under the bus for you sometime.)  Sorry for all those times when we were super young that I’d physically hurt you then tried to make you laugh so you’d stop crying and wouldn’t tell on me.  I was such a bitch in my elementary years.

So, off to KC I guess.  Still have a first draft due… anytime now.  Might be opening presents tomorrow, typing away in the corner.  Blllech, my tummy hurts from all the stolen treats.  T-Bone’s home now, though– at least she didn’t seem to mind me drinking milk directly from the gallon.

The chocolate curls that top our Thanksgiving pie are perhaps some of the best I’ve e’er made.  I just felt like sharing that, perhaps evidence of my freakish  passion for baking (yes, I said passion, people!  I mean business!)  Someone better bring a camera tonight before it gets devoured because the world needs to see this pie.

You’re probably wondering how today, D-day of my semester, went.  I woke at 7 a.m. and was quite certain that my eyes were bleeding.  Getting to work was auto-pilot one foot in front of the other, the ladies at work were quite concerned that I had been hit by a car en route.  My term paper ended up being ONE SENTENCE over five pages, nevermind that I increased punctuation to 14 pt font and my thesis had the word “Holocaust” in it and it concluded with the phrase “…that’s what make our democratic society great!”  IT’S. DONE. 

I owned that midterm– bent it over and made it my bitch (I will not say I “raped” it, though I’ve been known to use that phrase.  How do you think rape victims feel when we say that,  HMMMM??!?!)  I was the first person done in a lecture of well over 100 students, either a good sign or a very, very bad sign.  This happened to me all the time K-12, and I am so the person who will sit there and pretend to check my answers while waiting for someone else to get up first.  Not today.  I had to pee CRAZY bad, so could spare no time. The professor actually asked if I had a question when I handed it to him and then realized I was finished.  Either I am crazy or a genius, we will soon find out.

The very best part of all of this is that I still have shit due this week.  I will be working tomorrow after I am home, composing a first draft of a story I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about for my reporting & writing class.  Aren’t you just so jealous of me?!  Very soonly, however, I will be heading off to test my comfort zone (yeaaaaa for being an adult) and go to see Man vs. Food guy alone.  Best case scenario, he’s hotter and younger in person and picks me from the audience to be his bride and we travel the world together eating ourselves to death. 

While I’ve never read the books, I’m not completely blind, deaf, and dumb and thus not immune to the fact that New Moon opens at midnight tonight.  Two words: Taylor Lautner.  Holy sweet niblets of underage deliciousness, that kid is H-O-T hot.  Probably because he has the face of a two-year-old.  It’s learn about Brittney time: she likes them baby faces.  My laptop desktop has in fact been changed from Slash (GASP! HORROR! GLASS-SHATTERING IN THE BACKGROUND! SUICIDE!) to this 17-year-old kid that plays a werewolf for all of 36 minutes onscreen in a Twilight film (and sadly, I did not make that statistic up, Perez told me.)  And yes, I’ve caught more than just a little flack for doing so. 

Do you know what I haven’t done today?  Showered.  I’ll probably do that here soon, what with Adam Richman falling in love with me at first sight and all.  Then it’s off to 529/713 Thanksgiving (thus named because those are the addresses of the people attending, for those wondering– I am of the 713 camp OBVIOUSLY) where I’ll conveniently show up for the booze portion of the evening and skip all the turkey/mashed potatoes made by college kids shenanigans. 

Oh, so today I’m thankful for… my scholarship because I get early registration each semester for classes.  This semester it’s pretty moot since I only have to register for study abroad, BUT I get to “register” for classes that will be full by the time my-less-than-academic friends’ registration times roll around.  I’m currently enrolled in some pretty obscure art and English classes next semester (you both SO owe me now).  Really I just do it for the hilarious texts, like this one, from my least favorite 713′er: “Thank you, lady.  Your benevolence knows no bounds.”  What can I say, he adores me.

This will be super quick because I have about two of my five page term paper done and that’s just not enough yet.  Though it was recently brought to my attention that this paper is 8% of our grade where as our midterm (also on Thursday, THANKS FOR THAT, Dr. Eko) is 30% of our final grade.  Less BS-ing about the differences between Article 5 of the Grundgesetz and the First Amendment and more memorizing the over 100 legal cases that will be on the test.

Do you know how I sit?  Like a boy.  This is not new, but I feel the people walking by are like Girrrrl, close them legs.  I do it completely unconsciously, it’s just comfortable to sit like I’m straddling a horse (oh God, this really is not sounding as I meant it to).  I’m am the opposite of a leg-crosser.  My 713′ers used to point it out when were still new in our relationship, just like I used to point out when their right hands would all be gratuitously be hanging out in their pants when watching TV.  It’s a comfort thing, not an advertisement thing.  Shame on you for your mind going there.

I am conflicted.  As you know, Thursday night I have a ticket to see Man vs. Food guy.  Alone.  That part doesn’t really bother me.  What does bother me is that I am IMPULSIVE and was all, of course I want to buy this ticket!  Without thinking about how it’s at the end of this hell week, when the last thing I’ll want to be doing is sitting in an auditorium alone listening to this guy talk about how much he can eat.  I have been invited to a lovely college-kids-trying-to-be-grown-up Thanksgiving that I’d prefer to go to, but alas I have this non-refundable ticket.  I am trying to re-sell it via Twitter.  If you, dear blog reader, are reading this and are all HEY!  I’ll take it!– you just let me know.

Oh!  Before I go back to my RIVETING paper (that is on a topic that wasn’t actually approved so really, I could just be writing for myself here and get a big fat “F” on it for that reason alone) I have to tell you what I’m thankful for.  Since I said one parent earlier this week, it’s only fair if today I’m thankful for… my dad.  I’d be thankful for him even if I wasn’t trying to keep things even– Papa K’s the bomb.  He’s scheduling our cruise excursions around our inevitable New Year’s hangovers, AND he always refills the kettle corn when we go to movies even though I ALWAYS finish at the exact point when the movie’s about to start.  That’s the definition of a stand-up guy.  We won’t even get into who I will miss most when I go to Germany (hint: it’s him)– I’m sure some sort of drunken home-from-the-bars post will come about sometime later and I’ll  be all GAAAHHH I’ve never been away from him (or really anyway) for four months, how will I survive.  And I just know how much you are all looking forward to that.

Costume shopping was a success and I am going as…

Daphne from Scooby-Doo! 

It was between her, Velma, or one of the wives from the Flintstones (character costumes were way cheaper at Second Act and I had no motivation or ideas to making something from scratch.)  Bestie was the ultimate decider with his much-appreciated input: “You’d get to have cool hair with Daphne.  You will get hot in Velma’s sweater.”   Betty and Wilma had weird foam hairpieces anyway, not that the giant BRIGHT ORANGE monstrosity that looks nothing like the above picture is much better, but I have til Friday to tame it.  He is going as Mr. Rogers, or as he put it “Me but with a sweater vest.”  Ahh, also so much more practical and economical that one.

I kind of want to see the Michael Jackson documentary. 

I’m making Halloween themed cupcakes and sugar cookies for Saturday morning tailgating and am so excited.

Friday will be a busy day of touring Eastern Iowa companies, learning about PR and marketing and networking and eating free lunch and taking notes and asking compelling questions and lots of smiling and awkward introductions and being really uncomfortable in dress clothes.

Roomie just came out to show me her Twister board costume.  She looks very cute in it (p.s. I HATE, hate, hate, loathe when people call me “cute”, but it’s okay for girls to say it of their peers.) 

In conclusion, I have stayed up too late yet again, have failed to do laundry yet again (I have officially run out of towels, at this point it’s now become a necessity) but helped in the once-every-three-months trash overhaul at 713 and watched a documentary on morbidly obese pregnant women with Bestie.  Chalk today up as a W.

You can probably figure out from the title that this post will be heavy on the sauce… kind of like the two places I’ve found that I dripped BBQ sauce on my shirt at dinner…

Bestie picked me up in the middle of the road after class and we made our way to HAIGHT’S HAWKEYE MEAT MARKET *sounds of angels singing.  Luckily we had called ahead so knew that the apple brats were fresh in the case today, as opposed to frozen like we’ve bought them before.  We walked in and the guy was like “Ahh so you were the one who called earlier.”  Duh, sir.  I think it’s a safe bet to say you don’t have that many phone calls per day and certainly not ones asking “Do you have apple brats today??!?!”

And do you know what else they had??  A new kind of barbecue sauce we’ve never had.  Yes, in case you wondering, Haight’s will toats-mcgoats be catering my wedding reception.  This particular brand was called SuckleBusters Original BBQ and as Bestie pointed out, you know it’s gotta be good when it has a seal that says “No Bad Stuff” on it.  Quality.  He and I both agree that this one has broken our top five.  Now, we shall rank them for you:

Best friend’s top 3 favorite sauces

1. Stubb’s http://www.stubbsbbq.com/

2. Big Daddy’s http://www.bigdaddybarbeque.com/

3. SuckleBuster’s http://www.sucklebusters.com/

My top favorites

1. Big Daddy’s

2. Sweet Baby Ray’s http://www.sweetbabyrays.com/

Bestie likes his with more spice, I like mine sweeter.  Stubb’s is awesome if you like spicy (but not too hot) kick, SuckleBuster’s as well provided a nice spice in constrast to the sweetness of the apple brat.

In other news, I got to pet a sugar glider today.  Two members of 713 got new comforter sets for their beds– really classin’ the place up AND the light in the living room works again.  My stye has gotten worse and there is a small mountain of a blemish on my chin because apparently my skin thinks I am a 14-year-old boy.  It is essentially the weekend– bring on more barbecue!  And six hours in a car with my family…

Roomie & I are watching the game– I’m feeling oddly optimistic about it, so we’ll probably lose.

Yesterday I ran my first 5K.  To clarify, when I went to said race, I had no idea I’d be running it.  That would explain why I was wearing jeans.  A group of friends had decided we were going to walk it, supporting kids with club foot and our campus PR firm who did the advertising for it.  Once we started though (we all started jogging as to not get trampled by the hardcore racers) I just kept going, not wanting to walk in the cold for almost an hour.  The jeans became kind of uncomfy at about the halfway point, and I did walk up a hill for maybe 1/4 of a mile. 

I finished in 34 minutes which I’m pretty happy with, all things considered.  I was definitely the only person who had my cell phone in my pocket, so towards the end, I called up Bestie while running, and was all “Guess what I’m doing?!  Running a 5K in jeans!”  He was quite bewildered.  The most intense physical activity he’s ever seen me do is go up the stairs when someone is using the downstairs bathroom.  Ohh that’s not true– one time I chased one of his roommates around the perimeter of his house barefoot and tried to tackle him.

My back of all things is the most sore– I figured my knees would kill– I had deplorable form.  While running, I was thinking about how I could never, never, never run a marathon.  KUDOS to the people who do, but I have no desire to run for 26.2 miles.  WHY would you?!  It’s all about the mental thing, and to be honest, I’m not that mentally tough.  A girl from my high school just completed the Chicago Marathon and qualified for Boston.  She has now said she is “addicted to marathons.”  I would rather be addicted to meth.  (<– that was kind of a joke.  Kind of.)

You know how Cheez-Its have holes in the middle?  Perfect to put a string through.  Screw candy necklaces– I will now be making millions off of my Cheez-It necklace idea.