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.

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.

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.

For the time time in 20 years, I found my inner Zen at around 4 pm today.  Tomorrow will come whether my paper reaches five pages or not, whether I keep rambling about Nazis in it or not (I am sadly not kidding– somehow my Legal & Ethical Issues in Mass Communication term paper has turned into a diatribe about the undercurrent of raw emotions that surely must exist in present day Germany because of the Holocaust.  I am so not getting a decent grade.)  It will come whether I know what the O’Brien Test is (I don’t) or whether or not hidden cameras are legal in Iowa (they are… I think.)

There is a french silk pie chilling in the refrigerator, courtesy of my awesomeness, that will be devoured at a very 713/529 Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow night.  Bestie’s making the turkey and said we probably won’t eat until almost 10 pm anyway, so I can go see Adam Richman AND have an awesome time recreating the slaughter of thousands of Native Americans by greedy white people first Thanksgiving.  And then get really drunk only to wake up really early possibly still intoxicated to travel two hours down the interstate in time for an oil change at 10 am.  Gotta love the end of midterms week.

Today I am thankful for my boss.  What?  But, Brittney, you loathe your job to the very core!  Well yes, but that’s because it’s inane busy work spent in front of a computer when I could be sleeping or eating or doing really anything besides wearing business casual clothes to class when all of my peers get to wear sweatpants.  I’m super pscyhed because I’m not working AT ALL next week.  Weeeee-hoooo!!  I invision a lot of lounging and eating and sleeping and sweatpants-wearing in my future.  Happy Turkey Day to me!

Also, I hate Murphy’s Law.  While on a given day I’m usually rockin’ an attractiveness rating of a good four or five points higher than your average college student, today was an exception.  I looked like the Elephant Man.  I consciously went into public full-on knowing this, thinking I wouldn’t encounter anyone whose opinion really mattered.  Boy was I wrong.  And I paid for it in ten minutes of super self-conscious conversation, followed by a complete melodramatic over-analytic meltdown about said meeting. 

This is when having a female best friend and a male best friend really comes in handy.  While both of them were supportive and assured me that  they have both seen me look like this elusive Elephantitis creature and they’re still talking to me, their follow-up approaches to talking me down from the ledge were varied.  Kayla lied to me and told me what I wanted to hear.  Apparently other Bestie is a walking copy of He’s Just Not That Into You and told me what was up, straight up no chaser.  I am now fake mad at him for doing this.  CLEARLY he does not understand girl logic, as I told him, and he replied with, “Nope, because it’s not logic.”

Anyway (hey, Natalie!) I’m gonna go do one of the million other things on my to-do list that you would think I’d have done by now, but you would be wrong.  I have to like, plan our end of the year social?  For PRSSA?  And talk on the phone to strangers to get estimates on how much banquet service will cost ?  Barrrrrrffffff, I HATE talking to strangers on the phone.  Perhaps there was some incident in my youth regarding rejection via landline that I’ve repressed but still scars my subconscious.  Whatever the case, NOT. Looking. Forward to 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.

Slash was on Lopez Tonight last night.  Holy. Slashgasm.  He looked super sexy fine, as per usual, and it would have been even better if George Lopez hadn’t been there and they’d just let Slash play and be on camera.  He’s put together a big charity show for the Los Angeles Youth Network next Sunday, le sigh.  Such a humanitarian.

You know what’s fabulous?  Curly fries.

You’ll be pleased to know that I finally have a topic for my paper AND half a page written. …who am I kidding, that’s not noteworthy at all.  Tomorrow night, I’m just being realistic when I say I’ll be getting little to no sleep.  Or I could just bomb the midterm and study extra hard for the final?  Oh college, how you’ve prepared me to make completely realistic life decisions.

It’s going to rain today.  G’ood thing I found my umbrella after thinking my old roommate had taken it for a few months, but then cleaning out the front closet and discovering it buried under a bunch of blankets and boxes of Valentine’s Day boxes.  So I shall remain dry!  Brittney 1, Mother Nature 0.

Holy schmoligans Lil Wayne will be in anything.  Apparently he’s on the new Shakira song– I’m not a huge fan of hers, though Bestie l-o-v-e LOVES that damn “SheWolf” song so I’ve become partial to it as well.  If/ when he goes to prison I. will. just. die.  Luckily his DOCUMENTARY “The Carter” (it’s already won a bunch of Sundance awards, no big thing or anything) is coming out so I’ll be able to watch it every day until his release.  So today, I’m thankful for Lil Wayne (do not make fun of me.)  He is just so great.  And hilarious.  And is addicted to prescription cough syrup.  But just awesome.

My horoscope yesterday: You can talk your way into anyone’s heart — but where’s the beef?  OH OKAY.  I think that means unrequited love.  That’s pretty much what everything in my life means.

Molly is doing a crossword puzzle and just asked me what mountain Noah landed on.  I said “Sinai.”  Apparently that is the incorrect answer.  I was not aware there were multiple famous mountains in the Bible.  I’m going to have to go home and figure this out.  Now she just asked me who plays at City Field now.  Oh, I’m sorry @mkburke, I didn’t realize I was an encyclopedia.  Like when you asked me earlier how many students are enrolled in the business school.  We are children of the 21st century, Google it.

I should absolutely not be blogging right now.  I STILL have not nailed down a topic for my term paper due Thursday which I have to get done before then because the MIDTERM for that class is the same day.  Imagine Wednesday night for me just being spectacularly fun.  Perhaps if I start writing nonsense on the blogosphere, my creative juices for Legal Issues in Mass Communication will also start flowing. HA.

Last night Bestie and I discovered the movie The Ten with Paul Rudd in it.  That’s correct– Paul Rudd has starred in a film that we DID NOT KNOW even existed.  We were really upset with ourselves over this fact, but mostly just really excited because the movie is all sorts of fucked up AND he does a musical number at the end.  There is a poster of Paul Rudd in 713’s living room, a shrine, if you will.  When I asked Bestie to articulate exactly why they’re all so gung-ho over Mr. Rudd, he replied simply, “Because he is hot.”   I concur.  He reached his hotness peak in Wet Hot American Summer, but like a fine wine, he really only gets better with time.  I mostly like him because his awkwardness level in I Love You Man almost rivals mine in real life.

In other GIANT LIFE-ALTERING NEWS: Slash will be on the George Lopez show on TBS tonight!!!!!  Giggity goodness, people.  SLASH will be on the TELEVISION and I will be WATCHING HIM.  My suicide over this week’s workload so just got postponed until tomorrow.  Charlie Sheen will also be on, and anyone with half a brain or who has read the should-be-award-winning autobiography Slash (I have an autographed copy, because I know you were wondering) knows that those two are way good buds.  They go way back. Kind of like me and Slash… in my fantasy world where I spend most of my day. 

Perhaps I will go make myself a ham sandwich.  Or eat some soup out of a can.  Or run into oncoming traffic– really anything to keep me from this effin’ research paper.  If there’s one thing I hate in this world more than people who invite themselves to me (because really, isn’t that everyone’s number one pet peeve?) it’s RESEARCH.  People who do it for a living are in a whole other realm of crazy to me.  Who CARES?!  If the information is already written down, why do I have to find it and re-word it and stretch it out into a bunch of pages and spit it back to you?  I’m quite certain my professor is much more well-versed on Article 10 of the European Convention of Human Rights than I am, so perhaps he should be writing a paper for me on it.  I’d probably at least skim it.  (<– Ok, that was a dirty, dirty lie.  I would throw it away recycle it.)

Oh, and since we’re rockin’ a little over a week until Thanksgiving, today I am thankful for… the hospital workers who were putting up Christmas decorations today.  Because you know what that means: they’re going to replace the normal muzak in the halls to CHRISTMAS MUSIC pretty soon and then I will have total permission to walk with a spring in my step when pushing my God-forsaken cart of charts all over the blank-blankin’ hospital (did you know that beast is 1/4 of a mile from one end to the other?  And you wonder why I’ve suddenly developed the athletic prowess of an indigenous African…)

In closing, Roomie has concoted what smells like macaroni & cheese if Jesus himself were to make it.  I shall go investigate.

There are four weeks of school until finals week.  I only have one final, so really, only four weeks of school til this semester is DONE-ZO.  <Insert hyperventilation-like breathing here.>

Have roomie & I found someone to be a second subleaser on our apartment yet?  NO.

I have I opened my legal & ethical textbook since the first test?  NO.

Have I gotten my topic proposal for the term paper due next week approved yet?  NO.

Have I written detailed love notes and collated beautiful scrapbooks of our time together for every single one of my friends and acquaintances should I succomb to some sort of premature freak death while abroad?!  NO.

Do you know what I have done?

Bought tickets to see Adam Richman from Man vs. Food when he comes to town next week?  YES.  Love him.

Put off grocery shopping for so long that the ONLY things in my kitchen are: oatmeal, one Lean Cuisine (lunch tomorrow!), a bag of gross mixed nuts and dried fruit from Costco, two eggs, vodka, and chocolate chips?  YES.  And I will not be going to the store until after I go home this weekend, where I expect to be loaded up with enough food to avoid the store until after Thanksgiving break.

Spent way too much time pondering why half of the people I know were born this week?  YES. 

Been really proud of myself for figuring out the answer to the above question?  YES– 9 months before now was Valentine’s Day.  You know what that means.  S-E-X.

I’ve also pitched my first post ideas to this place on the ol’ Internet where I will be a contributing writer and I’m REALLY EXCITED for it because although it’s unpaid, it’s like, up and coming mannn, and they will be totally awesome clips for my portfolio, mannn (<– I have no idea what that was.  Me channeling Jeff Spicoli, I guess.)

Fact about me that none of you knew until RIGHT NOW: my favorite channel on Pandora (besides the Christmas one, obviously, which I’ve tired of) is the string quartet channel.  I really love Franz Liszt.  Currently “String Quartet No. 7 in A Major” by Franz Josph Haydn is playing.  Hmmm… maybe I’ll meet a Franz in Germany and he can play me sexy string music.

The main library is approximately 200 degrees.  This is in no way an exaggeration.  I’ve gotten here long before the rush, but don’t worry—I still won’t be productive for at least another two hours.  I am currently enjoying Mediterranean salad, hummus & a pita from OASIS, the best best best falafel joint in the world!  They also happen to package these little lunch packs for convenient purchase with a swipe of the ol’ U-Bill at the library café downstairs.  The students who are here sneered at me like the complete imposter I am when I rolled up in my jangly airplane sneakers (note to self: do not wear these shoes when carrying out sneak attacks.)  I have found a nice two person table to myself in the corner and I SWEAR to all that is holy if someone comes up and sits across from me, completely overstepping personal boundaries, I will cut a bitch.  Unless said bitch turns out to be an attractive male between the ages of 18-25, preferably with dark hair and an affinity for bucking authority.

Do you think people judge me when they see me smelling my food before I eat it?  Most of you probably did not know that about me, but alas, I am one of the 2.7% of Americans who lives with the uncontrollable urge to sniff their food before consuming it.  Yeah, be grossed out.

In other way more important news… MY PLANE TICKETS ARRIVED TODAY.  They are so going under my pillow so I can talk to them before I go to sleep every night.

Oh my sweet golly—can I have my wedding cake frosted in this hummus?!  I saw they also are selling sweet potato chips downstairs.  Someday, if I ever have a terrible break-up or something, please refrain from bringing me a pint of ice cream & a spoon—bring me Oasis hummus and those sweet potato chips to dip in it.

My mom just dialed me on her cell phone with her butt or something and didn’t realize it.  I’m now listening to a sweet voicemail of her tap dancing or being eaten by wolves—it’s all quite muffled.  Hopefully she’s not in some grave danger and her split-second decision to call her firstborn proves to be her untimely demise.  Sorry, T-Bone—I’ll make sure they serve this hummus at your funeral.

Shout out to Falbo’s for giving us FREE SODAS and someone else’s slightly messed up pizza for only $5 this weekend. You guys are the shit.  So are your spinach/tomato/garlic slices.  Your 25 cent surcharge for the use of a debit card is kind of douche-y, but we can work past this.  Oh, and you can’t hold a candle to Mesa Pizza, the best by-the-slice place in all the land.

Now I shall put on my movie critic hat.  Have you seen Seven Pounds with Will Smith and Rosario Dawson?  If you said yes, I’m sorry.  I’d like those two hours of my life back as well.  If you’ve managed to keep said piece of shit film out of your life so far, I’M JEALOUS.  The most boring, plod-along, contrived, can see the end coming a mile away, not in the least bit interesting movie perhaps ever made in the history of time.  As Bestie summarized: Guy inadvertently kills seven people.  Guy gives life to save seven people.  Two boring plot sentences turned into two UNBEARABLE HOURS!!!

I have been at the library for an hour now and done… absolutely nothing to get me closer to my deadline.  This story will not get published anyway (the whole point of this freelance class, apparently).  I choose practicality over blind optimism anyday.

WHY has there not been a new Family Guy for like three weeks?!?!

I’ve just about Lean Pocket-ed myself sick.  Perhaps a crisp vegetable or two would do the body good.  I’d really like a steak right about now (and I don’t even like steak.)

This weekend is dedicated to… get it, son… HOMEWORK!!  Saturday is also my last shift at my favoritest sandwich job

Germany doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day!  Booo.

My red hair’s not changing anytime soon.  It’s growing on me.  And my already falling-out hair can’t afford more color.

I really don’t like how the Hawkeyes are on the cover of Sports Illustrated.  Now the whole country will be watching when we eventually lose.  A writer from South Africa came and spoke to our class this week, and she was most surprised by our “identification with a place” and how basically everyone wears an Iowa shirt every single day.

Some “bad” traits of Geminis: restless, sarcastic, gossipy, evasive, nervous, tense, non-commital, indecisive, quickly bored, manipulative, irritable, nosy, cheap, flighty…  Um, HELLO ME.  To the absolute letter.  The “good” traits I don’t think describe me quite as well: open-minded, affectionate, objective, perceptive, eloquent, quick-witted, cheerful, kind, charmy, savvy, generous, clever, witty, versatile, imaginative, adaptable, inventive, communicative, and of course– twice the fun.  This would also explain my extreme bipolarity on occasion.

My boss said I was a “brave girl” for going abroad without knowing anyone.  I suppose this is especially odd since I am the opposite of a risk-taker.  I hate risks.  I don’t even like jumping off ledges that are like, three feet off the ground.  I could fall and hurt something.

Do you know what band is just absolutely shittyshitastic?  Nickelback.