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

Blogging from NPH’s kitchen– his mother made homemade blueberry muffins with streusel topping, add her to the list of things I love. Chicago is an absolute madhouse this weekend, not only because of Lollapalooza but because the weather is gorgeous AND Obama was in town the past couple of days. We didn’t see him, but every member of the Chicago police department seemed to be lining Michigan Avenue. As you may know, I am an avid reader of Perez Hilton’s blog– I don’t care if you judge me or hate him, he is one faboosh flaming former fatty. Anyway, he puts together “One Night In…” concerts when he’s in a city, and last night was a One Night in Chicago show to informally kick off Lolla. GUESS WHO WON TWO TICKETS?!?! Judging from the amount of capital letters in that last sentence, I hope you guessed ME! I invited the ol’ boyfriend to be my plus one, and we headed to the Hard Rock Hotel yesterday afternoon to get our wristbands. Doors were supposed to open at 8:00, we got in line behind about 20 or 30 people at 7:30 and were finally let in a little after 8:30. That hour of standing of people watching along the Magnificent Mile was both hilarious and slightly depressing in that I will never be that thin, have that big of a wardrobe budget, and be able to walk that far in that high of heels on a Thursday night while living my swank entry-level PR job in a major metropolitan area. Not that I really want to. We got inside, found a bar, ordered two drinks (specialty ones named like “Blogger Bomber” and other Perez-related stuff) then found out… wait for it… it was an open bar. That’s right ladies and gentlemen of my readership– FREE BOOZE. All night. UV Vodka was one of the sponsors– needless to say, we were pumped. Don’t think I went all balls to the wall, though (because one, there was no beer anywhere) but two, I needed to say alert and pumped for the Jump Smokers DJ Set, Nneka, J Brazil, Lissie, Kid Sister, and B.o.B. Now the only one in that line-up I’d even heard of was B.o.B. (damn that “Airplanes” is catchy) but I can honestly say they were all AMAZING. I won’t go into detail on each, but I was honestly impressed– Perez can pick some musicians. I ran into a fellow Hawkeye I was in PRSSA with who confirmed that Lady Gaga was indeed supposed to make an appearance (I KNEW it) but cancelled. Bummer. But not that big of a bummer because I’ll be seeing her tonight at Lolla, granted probably hundreds of yards away instead of literally ten feet. Oooh– we’re catching the train back into Chicago now. The train reminds me of Germany, sad; the buildings remind me I could never live in this giant of a place.

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.

Today I learned an important lesson: do not buy the cheapest thing on Amazon. It will come with poorly translated directions and generally frustrate the hell out of your already exhausted self who only needs this music player to get her through her very early run tomorrow morning. Yes, I’m officially on a training plan for the half marathon and it feels AMAZING and I have renewed faith in both the heavens and my shoddy left knee. While I’ve been suffering through with just my thoughts (RIP iPod, you went above and beyond the many years I asked of you) now that I’m going 5+ miles, some heavy dance beats do wonders for my morale. In Iowa City this weekend I did my first “long” run with the help of NPH’s iPod (which he gave me, then TOOK BACK when his newer one broke. Goddamn Indian Giver. Is that a racist term? If it is, I apologize. That’s just literally the only term I know for someone who gives you something then takes it back. Other than Giant Butthead.) I move into my apartment THIS WEEKEND and am beyond excited to have my name on an apartment in IC again after eight months of separation and/or couch-surfing at 713. I’m also looking forward to resuming a somewhat normal blogging schedule since perhaps life around my peers will inspire me more than life working for the man (albeit a very fun, exciting “Man” who has been an amazing experience) does. Back to individually converting MP4 files to MP3 to go on this new piece of shit contraption even though I’m sure there’s ten other easier ways to do this AND I should be in bed if not staying up to watch the season two premiere of Jersey Shore. How I got into this show (just recently! Over the weekend!) is a tale for another post. Or maybe never because I’m very, very ashamed I know what “GTL” stands for.

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.

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.

Did the lack of potassium kill her?!?! Nope, I just kinda forgot I had a blog there for about a week.  The good news is, I went back to the doctor and my electrolyte levels are back to where they need to be– no more health-related posts!!  NPH not only visited me at work when he got into town on Friday, but was also quite impressed when I introduced him to Famous Dave’s.  We made the trek to Adventureland Saturday morning– holy humidity, Batman– and the first four parking lots were already full when we pulled up 20 minutes after it opened.  Also, turns out the parking stand people only take cash which presents a few problems for college students who are slaves to their debit cards and don’t put much time into pre-planning their theme park day trips.  After making it through the gates and gooing on a ridiculous amount of sunscreen, we headed off to wait in line for the Raging River (I.HATE.LINES.)  Neil was previously a security guard at Six Flags so proclaimed “This is nothing!” as I whined about it for the duration.  All our loitering did provide ample time for people watching which is usually interesting, though watching and eavesdropping on the crowd at the biggest attraction in Altoona, Iowa made me more sad than intrigued.  When we finally got to the front of the line, three teenage boys from Kansas City, Missouri were also in our tube (how do I know this?  They introduced themselves.  And it only got better from there.)  I felt kind of bad for them because they were at the peak of social awkwardness in their lives– voices were cracking, whiteheads were ripe for the popping, hive fives were given after one of them got particularly splashed when we rammed into a wall.  ”Dude, you sooo have to give Brenna a hug after this.”  ”Ohmygod no, dude– she’d so kill me.  Haha dude you’re right, I’m so gonna get Brenna all wet.” My definition of the seventh circle of hell?  Close.  We rode a few roller coasters after that which weren’t as thrilling as I remember them being as a child, though Neil laughing maniacally next to me as I screamed for Jesus to save me before I surely plummeted to my death was a new couple-y experience.  After lunch (who knew they served beer at Adventureland?!) and NPH’s first funnel cake (which was GROSS, but the poor thing hasn’t been to the State Fair yet so still deemed this nasty imposter cake delicious) the humidity rose as our patience for the screaming children around us tanked.  Somehow we found ourselves in a  bar watching the USA lose the World Cup game to Ghana, then may have ended up at my house to drink more and watch Step Brothers. I know the first half of that damn movie by heart, but since there’s always a case of some cheap domestic brew involved, the second half of the movie is kind of hit-or-miss for me.  After two days of work, I spent my day off today helping my grandparents get their garden ready for a garden tour in a week or so.  And by “helped” I mean kinda spray-painted some stuff, wandered the house, ate a weird amount of chicken salad for not liking mayo, and then tried unsuccessfully to fix their printer.  Productive day?  Oh my yes.

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.

Long before dawn, I woke up this morning to work a very early event for my internship.  I’d already been up for 12 hours when I got home at 3 p.m.– needless to say my head hurts a bit from being so tired.  This past weekend was the last time I’ll be able to go to Iowa City this month, which is probably best for my car, body, sanity, wallet, etc.  It seems whenever I go, I assault my body with an insanely shiteous eating, drinking, and sleeping schedule, leaving me in recovery mode until the next weekend when the cycle repeats itself.  Not exactly the best lifestyle for a working girl like myself, not to mention one who needs to step up her training for a half marathon (which is in four months.  No, I haven’t forgotten.  No, I’m not running as much as I should be.  When I do, yes I still love it.  I think about it every day before going to work/ after collapsing from exhaustion after work.  Move your ass, Brittney.)

March will be my final Spring Break– the big one, the one as a senior, the one where I’m finally 21 (which is the BEST. AGE. EVER. in case you were wondering.)  As such, much planning needs to go into it and thankfully NPH has devised one amazing road trip destination: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando.  (My parents think I’ve been huffing paint for choosing Florida anytime near Spring Break, but they apparently don’t realize it’s the HARRY POTTER books only in REAL LIFE.)  The best part of this plan is that by driving, we’ll have unlimited access to amazing southern barbecue joints that will probably be the largest slice of my Spring Break budget pie chart.  Though, if you know me even a little, this is still in the OhmygodI’msoexcited phase in which I’ve found myself far too many times, only to never have the plans actually pan out.  But only this time it’s Harry Potter and magic will be involved.

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.