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.

The next season of Teen Mom on MTV starts on Tuesday. This has to be in my Top Five times I’ve ever been this excited for a television event. I’m not going to apologize for being MIA because silence is better than forced posts that are me recapping another booze-fueled weekend in Iowa City, my growing attachment to my boyfriend, owning up to the fact I’m barely running anymore, or the angst-y trials of feeling like an adult while living with the ‘rents. I could tell you about the glowing mid-season internship review I had at work, but that would just be gloating. I suppose a problem I’ve been having with blogging is that my insides are rebelling against this whole sharing-everything-with-the-Internet thing. I’m starting to become agitated with the blogs that fill my Google Reader– if I read another race recap or see another photo of a perfectly nutritionally-balanced breakfast I’m going to leave my laptop lying in an intersection. My Facebook usage has plummeted and absolutely no one on Earth has been negatively affected by this. I’ve many times contemplated deleting my Twitter account altogether, though I won Pancheros Twitter Trivia a few weeks ago and dammit those burritos are reason enough to stay activated. I actually– drumroll, please– went to the LIBRARY the other day and checked out a nonfiction book that I am LOVING. It’s called The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism by Timothy Keller and it’s quite thought-provoking (a phrase I don’t like now that I’ve used it.) Lollapalooza’s in three weekends, and I seriously need to sit down and provide instructions for NPH in the very likely event that I undergo some sort of physical bodily reaction from being in the same airspace as the Lady herself– i.e. heart attack, stroke, seizure, or just peeing my pants in public. Once the excitement of that dies down (WHO scheduled her to play Friday night– aren’t you supposed to save the best for last??) I’ll be making weird amounts of toast at Neil’s parents house because I don’t know what kind of bread they buy but DAMN it’s good. And then after that, well, summer will almost be over and I don’t really wanna think about that yet.

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.

My alarm will go off in six short hours, but I’m much too excited about the Harry Potter theme park-centered Spring Break road trip I’ve decided to go on to get any sleep.  As NPH pointed out, there will be many great hole-in-the-wall barbecue joints between here and Orlando.  I need to start breaking my paycheck down into Rent/ Booze/ Spring Break. Apparently I should also be saving heavily for life post-college,  but I don’t see much room for that in the aforementioned list.

Yes, this post is evidence that I did indeed survive my weekend of post-21st birthday celebrations in Las Vegas.  A grand time was had by all, save for perhaps our livers and wallets.  I gambled for the first time in my life, perhaps $4 total into penny slot machines, and made not a cent of it back.  Our flight from Omaha to Vegas on Thursday afternoon was delayed three hours due to a broken hydraulics system in the plane just before take-off. While we were less than thrilled, Southwest then provided free booze when we finally were airborne– not a bad deal at all.  Unfortunately we began to think we were slightly jinxed when our limo tour around town also went kaput (thankfully on an exit ramp) and a few other transportation-related annoyances that are now a bit hazy to recap.  Clearly we didn’t let any of that stop us and made it to IN-N-OUT BURGER, the super swank nightclub Tryst in the Wynn, Fremont Street, the hotel pool, THE HOFBRAUHAUS, and the Hard Rock Hotel bar a few more times than you might have thought possible.  One of my friends in my program while in Germany lives in Vegas and was able to meet us at the Hofbrauhaus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <–that’s how I excited I was.  We had the best time, and the menu was surprisingly authentic, though the music was not (“Sweet Home Alabama” isn’t exactly a crowd favorite in Deutschland.)  NPH loved the German beer and my favorite mustard so I guess I’ll keep him around for a while.  I’ve been trying not to think about how it’s only been a month since I’ve been back because it feels like a lifetime ago, and sometimes I have dreams where D-bag’s in ‘em or I’m speaking in German and I get very sad.

OVERALL, Vegas = giant success.  I’m both pants-pissing excited and a bit fearful of future roomie Lauren living there after graduation; I’ve been there three times in as many years and don’t see any reason to discontinue the trend.  Perhaps I’ll  branch out from getting sickeningly stuffed on Canter Deli’s turkey reuben every time I go (not likely) or stay at the Paris on my next visit so breakfast can come from their bakery case every morning (has to happen.)  Hopefully the bartenders at the Hard Rock don’t have that quick of a turn around rate since I’m now on first name basis with a few (shout-out to Greg and Joe, and yes, I’m name-dropping.)  While I’m still love love loving my internship, the next countdown is now set for Lollapalooza: I’ll be seeing Lady Gaga in exactly two months.  <There’s not a squeal loud enough to insert here.>

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.

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.

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.

“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.