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, 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

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

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!!

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.

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.

“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.

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

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.

(During rant about current slave labor-like conditions at her job) “I need a blog, like “Brittney Has Something to Say dot com.”

2 hours later… thanks, Dad! 

Brittney doesn’t actually have much to say at the moment.  She is currently pissed that she took a kitchen shears to her bangs earlier this week because they’re not really looking at all decent before she goes over to Lauren’s Schmoren’s (she is unsure whether she should change names to prepare herself for the inevitable libel suits…)

She promises this will be the first, last & only post that she writes in third person.