There are many times per day I question my mental health, though perhaps never as often as I have in the 48 hours I’ve been back on campus. As an International Studies (and Journalism!) major, various foreign countries are mentioned during the course of my classes multiple times a day. Apparently I never realized before how much Germany is slipped into even the most casual of lessons, though you can bet post-foreign study I now pick up on every even hint of a whisper of any mention of anything I ever even kind of encountered in my four months there. I need to go back to Germany. And this isn’t just “The beer is better there! Maybe I’ll backpack across Europe post-graduation.” In the spirit of full disclosure to my loyal legion of 5-13 readers: I was fighting tears in my European Integration class today. That’s right, people– my professor’s mention of the Defenestration of Prague in which he explained that “defenestration” means to throw someone out the window got me all misty-eyed because DID YOU KNOW that “fenster” means “window” auf Deutsch?! I need to go back. I need to learn more of the language, I need to show the people I love back home how amazing a country it is. It’s like my culture shock upon American reentry has laid dormant for a few months and is rearing it’s ugly and apparently overly emotional head now that I’m surrounded by people who still think “Nazi/Hitler/war/bad” when they see the red, black & yellow. It’s not that I miss the people in my program; save for a few close friends, I’ve hidden/ defriended most of them on Facebook. It’s rather some, I don’t know– primal need? Like four months wasn’t long enough, or I should be looking for some incredibly lucrative job that could support me living there six months out of the year. Perhaps you think I’m being overly dramatic, but I long ago stopped giving a shit what people think about me when I start to have feelings. So as to not leave you on a completely Debbie Downer note, I have no class tomorrow and generally like all my courses this semester. Yea for rays of sunshine!

Lollapalooza was Gaga. And by that I mean, the whole reason I went to Lolla this year was for Her Majesty herself. I took a much more relaxed approach to the festival than last year, not to mention I had many more friends to hang out with at places other than the event itself. It’s guaranteed I’ll have issues anywhere porta-potties are the only means of relieving myself, but thankfully there were no major incidents or lack of toilet paper to report. I can’t really go into a full-on review of Gaga’s show because mostly my mind was just blown, but as everyone afterward said, it was a performance. Homegirl had some serious angst from performing at Lolla three years ago when she was a nobody and being told she’d remain so– there was a lot of shouting and “F You’s!” to the proverbial man. There were also a lot of parents who brought their kids (we’re talking 8-12 year olds) which was super inappropriate. Other than that, Green Day was good– everyone after Gaga just reminded me I wasn’t at Gaga (yes, it’s more than obsession.) Upon my return to Iowa City, I finished moving into my apartment and decorating my room. I was pleasantly surprised by how much stuff I brought back from Germany to brighten up the place, feel free to come over and check it out sometime. I only have ONE WEEK left at my internship, which honestly I’m pretty excited about, only because that means school starts afterward and I’m oddly psyched for routine life to start again. Oh– so I was introduced to Great Harvest Bakery this weekend. No, my life will never be the same; yes, I definitely ate more than one scone. WHYYYY don’t we ever get the cool places to come to Iowa??

Did the Fourth of July seem not at all like a holiday to anyone else? Except for the absurd amount of time I was given off from work, actual Independence Day itself went off like any other. NPH and I traveled back to the Chicago suburbs to visit his family and friends from home, watch fireworks over Lake Michigan, and attempt the Taste of Chicago (only to decide we could get food and much cheaper beer in air-conditioned facilities not surrounded by thousands of other sweaty bodies. Though I did get a plate of sweet potato fries as big as my face for only seven tickets.) I met and became best friends with his family dog AND made a surprisingly fantastic rhubarb pie to win the rest of their hearts; we’ll see if I’m the new favorite when we go back in August for LOLLAPALOOZA!! Upon our return to Iowa City, we watched Inglourious Basterds since I hadn’t seen it post-Germany, and it mostly made me sad to hear them speaking German (though happy because I could understand it?) That has been the most challenging part of this summer– oh God, she’s trying to get all deep here at the end– dealing with the I’m-an-adult-but-living-at-home thing. I have to actively remind myself that I’m no longer in high school and in fact have much more freedoms this time around. Also, I miss D-Bag a boatload, but that’s secondary to the constant inner turmoil I’m going through maturity-wise. I read an article today that said it costs a quarter of a million dollars to raise a child to the age of 18– do you know how much Bavarian beer that would buy in Munich over my lifetime? 1. A lot, 2. That segue to tie the whole post together really just did not work at all.

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.

Sorry, Monday– I discounted you from the start this morning.  After a night of poor sleep thanks to weird dreams (starring Gisele, Tom Brady, and a former high school lust) I woke up demanding caffeine and cursing my scheduled eight hours of desk work.  Somewhere along the way, Monday quietly surprised me with an uncannily productive work ethic AND energy to go for a run a little after 5:00.  –Note to self, the sun is still far from setting at this time.  Humidity is still rocking well about 50%, recent thunderstorms make gravel more like sand to run on, and you will end up getting rocks into your shoe only a mile in.  While I commend you on lacing up them sneaks and getting out there, next time perhaps some pre-planning will go into it.  Baby steps.

A note on my job: IT IS AWESOME.  Some of the events involved in my internship are, wait for it… weddings. !!!!  I get to help plan weddings, attend weddings, research weddings, market our weddings, le sigh.  Before you get your panties in a wad, let me be perfectly clear that I under no circumstance, perfect proposal, threat, insanity, or death bed-side wish am anywhere near getting married AT ALL.  Gross.  Barf.  Throat tightening at the mere thought of lifetime commitment.  I’m still quite a young’in and I have quite a prepared speech about how STUPID it is to get married before you have established your own life.  But that’s for another time.  Luckily NPH realizes that my wedding-centered brain is part of my job, an outlet to entertain my inner girly-girl while my practical side knows that many years from now I’ll be celebrating my nuptials at the Hofbrauhaus in Vegas (honeymoon in Munich to follow.) Speaking of my fabulous place of employment, I have this Saturday off and GUESS who’s coming to town?  The nowhere-near-fiance-so-please-stop-asking-even-if-it-is-a-joke boyfriend.  While I’m sure we’d have an uproariously entertaining time just hanging out with the folks, we’re going someplace even better: ADVENTURELAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Famous Dave’s at some point, but I’m not sure you can handle all of this exciting news in one post. The weekend after that is the Fourth of July (whaaaaat?!) and I hope upon hope my schedule will allow a trip to Chicago/ Milwaukee for Summerfest because apparently people wanna meet me.  NPH’s people.  I’m such a gem, I suppose I really can’t blame them.

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.>

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.

Yeah, so the whole two blogs thing isn’t going to really work for me while I’m here having the time of my life in the most awesome place in the world.  For the duration of my study abroad experience (I’ll be back with plenty to say in a non-German setting in May) I’ll be posting exclusively on Iowa Girls Gone Wild.  Despite it’s name, it’s completely safe for work.  Ya’ll tell all your friends now, ya hear?