For my last week of classes ever as a college student, the River Room has decided to serve almond chicken, my favorite. On my last journalism assignment, I was one of only two students who received grades in the A range. I will have a week off between my last class this Thursday and my first final next Thursday, and then one more at 7:30 a.m. on Friday. I would say something about the university sticking it to me one last time, but I’m just so excited about whatever comes after it that I’ve remained pretty unphased.

Currently I don’t feel like posting much about Bin Laden’s death– you can find my tweets for my play-by-play thoughts last night– though I can say I’ve never felt prouder to be a journalism major than last night. The same can’t go for being an American because quite frankly I was embarrassed by the reactions of many people, but as my professor this morning said, “Emotions aren’t right or wrong, you can’t help the way you feel in a particular moment.” So no judging, just dissimilar reactions.

For those of you who aren’t keeping track– yesterday marks ONE MONTH UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY, and today is Fergus Jackson’s nine month birthday. As his present, he will get his monthly heartworm pill. He really likes it. I have a feeling he will celebrate as he does all other days of his life: sleeping, looking out the window, and trying to catch that damn squirrel in the backyard. I’ll never tell him his legs are too short to ever catch it.

I realize the title of this post may have you thinking I’m writing it to Jesus, and while I do wish all of you reading a very Merry Christmas, it is in fact dedicated to someone else who’s birthday happens to fall on December 25th.

So do ya’ll remember D-Bag? From my Germany blog, my best friend while studying abroad who is fact not at all “d-baggish”, but rather his initials are D.B. so somehow that became his nickname that didn’t really catch on at all? Yes, of course you do. Well today is his birthday, and I wish him a very happy one. It’s probably automatically better than last years, because as I recall, he was wandering Oslo, Norway completely alone since he didn’t really get the memo that absolutely everything would be closed on Christmas day. And maybe he didn’t want me to tell you that, my bad.
Anyway, I hope today is the most wonderful of days for my dear friend, translator, drinking buddy, occasional secret keeper, Mensa companion, Tablekicken partner and/or ass-kicker, tour guide, and a bunch of other stuff that I don’t really want to recall right now because before you know it, I’d kick off Christmas covered in salty tears in the fetal position. I didn’t go to Germany expecting to make such good pals with my overly sarcastic American neighbor, yet here I am full-on rambling about him, and whenever he sends me a Facebook message it seriously makes me day. (And no, after re-reading this, we are not in love or anything and never did the horizontal no-pants dance after a night of Sambuca shots on karaoke night. Turns out I just have a platonic man-crush on him because he can bike like 200 miles uphill with only a sip of water and a saltine cracker.)
THE POINT IS– happy birthday, Darin. I’m so looking forward to our brief reunion in March being characteristically awkward, and I hope you’re having the time of your life doing whatever it is you do, which whenever we talk seems to be drinking a beer and watching a movie auf Deutsch.

(Imagine me ending with a photo of him or us or a sunset or something, but there’s only one photo of us together in recorded history and God knows I can’t find it right now and it was in a bar anyway, thus just use your imaginations and Etch-a-Sketch whatever you think he may look like. Oh, and Merry Christmas again. Or happy super belated Hanukkah.)

My black and gold fingernail polish is chipped, my hangover has subsided, and I’ve declared Labor Day “get my life back on track day.” So far, it’s been moderately successful since I’ve gotten one and three-quarters homework assignments done AND introduced NPH to the wonder of peanuts mixed with candy corn (if you haven’t tried it– it’s gotta be Brach’s candy corn and salted, dry-roasted Planter’s nuts. There’s a certain ratio that I’m kind of forgetting right now, but one bag and one jar should do ya. Beware, the entire bowl will be gone in a sitting if you don’t watch yourself.) Needless to say, the first tailgate of the season was a rousing success. My Crock-Pot breakfast casserole was a surprising hit, and no one brought a bat to do Louisville Chuggers, thus making us able to stay upright far longer than most games. Sunday was a fabulous day for laying and contemplating suicide and half-watching trashy reality television. Fortunately, I start both of my jobs this week (thanks for the well wishes– they apparently worked as I got the second internship I interviewed for) so the level of debauchery brought upon by the first home game will be unattainable for the rest of the semester. On a different note, happy birthday to my father, who is currently on a plane to Las Vegas (only a stop on the way to visit some relatives.) Either way, I’m very jealous because being in Vegas or even Eugene, Oregon means I wouldn’t be in school, the absolute bane of my existence. Yes, perhaps that WILL be the running theme of the blog until graduation– it’s just not. getting. better. I loved school until about high school, but since then it’s been an unfortunate means to the ultimate end of having a real career. No, I didn’t get my dad a gift, but I would want a blog shout-out over a package of Twizzlers or grill accessories any day. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Well, yesterday was the day.  My 21st birthday.  I’ve only been counting for oh, years?  I remember figuring out that it’d be the year 2010 before I could legally drink (this makes me sound like an extra alcohol dependent) and assuming the world would probably explode before then.  While it’s probably close, the Earth is still in fact intact and my i.d. is now quite legal.  I worked 9-5, a shift that went by remarkably fast and was filled with lots of fun projects. My bosses took me out to lunch and we were given a free slice of birthday cake; they are awesome.  The rest of my day was, erm… quite different from how I had ever pictured my 21st birthday being.  I went home, pizza was involved, so were some Comedy Central specials I had already seen.  This is due mostly (all?) to the fact I’m flying to Vegas in a day to have a weekend full of plenty of celebration to count for yesterday, today, perhaps the whole month of June.  I also just returned from a rather fabulous weekend in Iowa City where I got to celebrate with all of my friends over there (and be severely letdown by like NOWHERE being open for my birthday dinner with NPH because of Memorial Day.  I had my heart set on sushi and still lay awake at night craving it, ahem Formosa.)  Lauren and I saw Sex and the City 2 and then racked up quite an impressive bill at The Vine in honor of the last time I’d ever use my fake i.d.

AND, let’s not forget– I met Neil’s parents. They were lovely.  His sister even came along, and the five of us had a perfectly pleasant dinner and conversation.  His mother made the  world’s best chocolate chip cookie bars AND lasagna (which we later ate with our hands because 713 doesn’t have any forks.  Just imagine how much even better it would have tasted if we had microwaved it and used the proper utensils.)  Both NPH and the lil’ sis informed me later that I was positively loved by all, and if anything they find me a bit saint-like for putting up with the hygiene habits of most members of the house.  Now I’m counting down the days til Lollapalooza (GAGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) just so we can stay at his house and his mom can feed me for three days.

I’ve returned home from Iowa City one night earlier than scheduled, due to an oncoming wretched cold/ my cousin’s graduation party tomorrow.  While I of course enjoyed myself, it was an interesting glimpse into some growing pains I’m sure to encounter over the next three months.  Wednesday was my first day of, “What a lovely American visit this has been, get me back to Germany now.” Once I start my internship (MONDAY!!) my mood is sure to improve because quite frankly, I’m bored outta my gourd.  NPH’s birthday party was a rousing success– I introduced a few of the well-dressed attendees to German beer, and the cake and cupcakes were merely a memory shortly after the last bars of “Happy Birthday” were flatly sung.

Yeah, it was Funfetti. Feel free to hire me for your next party

The two-hour drive between Iowa City and home is sure to be the bane of my summer 2010 existence.  Come to think of it, so will the drive to and from my place of employment– completely on the other side of Des Moines, a journey that will often be made with the other 9-5ers trucking into the city from the suburbs.  (Ok, I’m KINDA really looking forward to being one of these under-caffeinated, overly aggressive commuters, but I feel it will quickly get old.)  Maybe I’ll become an avid player of morning radio show contests.  I’m also entertaining romantic daydreams of wearing professional office attire, then fielding many text requests from various family and friends to meet them for post-work dinner or drinks.  This glamorous dream-life I’ve created for myself is helpful during instances like today’s commencement exercises at Iowa.  The campus was overrun with seniors in their caps and gowns, parents looking horribly out of place and furtively glancing about like, “I’m in Iowa City, I could get puked on at any moment.”  Most of my friends have made several comments about how that’s going to be us in a year: Ohmygod we were just freshman yesterday/ I’m not ready/ let’s all drop out, grow beards, and start an alternative community in one of the lesser-populated Western states.  Surprisingly, I have not yet joined them in their panic, and am instead quite excited to become gainfully employed immediately post-college (because don’t you know, journalism majors are in such hot demand right now …) and start my shockingly cosmopolitan life in an equally cosmopolitan metropolis somewhere.  Oh, Sex and the City, you are so setting me up for quite the slap in the face later from the real world.

Cottage cheese is the bomb dot com.

Apparently I’m intimidating.  We were given feedback from our peers in one of my classes, and the instructor said “at first your group members found you intimidating, but later realized that was not the case.”  Roomie corroborates this character assessment.  I find this laughable, yet not surprising.  Usually people just say I’m a stone cold bitch when they first meet me.  More acquaintances than I can count have said to me, “You know, when so-and-so first introduced me to you, I thought you hated me.”  Methinks this goes back to the whole awkward thing.  And that I’m usually generally uninterested in meeting new people.  Especially if they are female.  As Neil pointed out today, I automatically assume an adversarial role with all unknown females in a situation.  I do not know why this is. 

Also, when I tell my friends that I am the least confrontational person they know and that I HATE conflict, they laugh in my face.  So apparently I’m an intimidating bitch who wants to rough your shit up.  You’ve been warned.

Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday.  He will be 19.  He will not be getting a birthday present from me 1.) I do not have the funds.  2.) We’ve never been big birthday gift exchangers. 3.) He told me people only think I’m funny when I bitch about stuff.  So he can just go shove it.

OH, so Neil never came to my house last night for the BBQ thing because his car started smoking on the interstate and he spent the majority of his afternoon waiting for it in a repair shop (he has assured me this was not a tall tale in order to get out of meeting my parents.)  So I decided to pack up and head back to the ol’ IC early and boy howdy I’m glad I did.  Not that over a week at home wasn’t fun and all, but last night was a quality evening that could not have been had elsewhere. 

Did you know that part of Turkey is in Europe and part of it is in Asia?  I’d like to think there’s a giant sign that says NOW ENTERING ASIA or something, and a nice tourist-trap type photo op where you can be on two continents at once.  NPH says I am an idiot. 

You know what’s on the ol’ jellyvision tonight?  Family Guy AND Sex Rehab with Dr. Drew.  Boy howdy my night is set, if I can keep my eyes open.  Then the best friend and I have a date with the grill because THIS GUY found a new BBQ sauce at Hy-Vee and we gotta test it out.  I’ve obviously already tried a dab of it, it tastes like barbecue potato chips.  Roomie was all, “Umm, crazy pants, why are you drinking barbecue sauce?”  And then I CUT HER THROAT with a kitchen knife cuz I’m so INTIMIDATING!!!  …or maybe I just said, “Not drinking, just sampling.”  And she thought, “The girl I live with has serious issues.  That tall Shrek-looking kid she’s always hanging out with has really poisoned her brain.”  Hey, if sticking your finger in a jar of sauce and discerning the aroma like a fine wine is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right.

Today is one of my best friends’ 21st birthdays. 

And when I say ‘best friend’ I mean this kid is for real-io’s the person I’ve been friends longest with in college (which is WEIRD to sit down and chart out, if you have the time.) 

I distinctly remember our first meeting– an eventual mutual friend introduced us in the doorway of his room and I remember thinking “Oh, he’s cute– too bad he’ sgay,”  because of his nice features and extreme enthusiasm about the espresso machine he’d made room for in his dorm (I have long since found out that he is indeed quite straight.)

Freshman year he and I were two members of a four-person “gang”, as we called ourselves, who were pretty inseperable.  I believe our gang name was “SpiderHornyGuitarGirl” (he was the horny part… this post has really taken a tawdry turn, I apologize.)  We even came up with a gang symbol that we thought about getting tattooed, but thankfully, though our moments of common sense are few and far between, we took to randomly Sharpie-ing it on ourselves during times of boredom instead. 

Over two years later, it seems that he and I are the only ones left standing in our epic quad-some (not that I don’t love the other two, but one is my former co-worker who I don’t see often enough, and the other is my ex who won”t acknowledge my presence in a room unless I jump and down in front of him like a goddamn chimpanzee..)  He is one of the few people I’d answer a phone call or text for during the wee hours of the morning– and I did, when he got hit by a taxi van while drunk; I stayed at the emergency room trying to relay the information to his family while calling our friends that he would, in fact, be okay.  He and I also know more about each other than your average bear, which we don’t hold over each other’s heads, but can be called as a Trump card in times of need.

Often I find myself not caring much what others think or if I’ve offended them, but he is an exception– I respect his opinions and seek him out for advice (okay, sometimes…)  I’ve had the conscious thought “What would he do” or think of this situation I’m in right now, and I’ve actually altered my action accordingly.  He and I are quite similar, if anything, he’s an older brother to me– someone who tells me to stop talking when I’m being annoying, or asks who/what/when/where/why when I get even remotely close to a boy of interest.

Not to say that it’s all been rainbows and unicorns– once I made him cupcakes & then dropped a bunch on my friend’s carpet, but I gave them to him anyway & he was polite enough to not mention the cat hair until after he ate them haha.   Sometimes he tells me he wants to punch me but won’t because I’m a girl and I’m all DOOO IT!!! but he wouldn’t actually hit a girl so then I punch him and I feel bad.  One time I sprayed him with a toxic amount of antibacterial cleaner because he puked all over his room and his roommate thought I should be the one called in to deal with it (we are so even for the cat hair, Mister.)

So happy 21st, buddy–you’re the life of every party, you’re smart and hilarious and awesome… please don’t die tonight/ this weekend.