I suppose you’re looking for a Vegas recap, eh? (That question was posed mostly for my grandparents– all of my Facebook friends were subjected to updates and cell phone pics the entire week. Gotta love them smart phones.) In short, it was awesome, obviously. For a bit more depth, I suppose I could go into how I refuse to ever get in a car again if I’ll be traveling more than four hours away. I could tell you how great– kinda awkward at first, but great– it was to see Darin (best friend from my study abroad program who lives in Colorado, remember?) again and how amazing the pizza was at the local place he took us to. If you were wondering, it’s called Home Slice in Durango, CO. I could tell you how fabulous Thunder from Down Under was, but I feel that’s one of those “What happens in Vegas…” things. Having the roomies there was surprisingly fun– I don’t mean that in a bitchy way, I mean there are few people I could go on vacation with and not completely despise afterward, and thankfully they made the list. (So did NPH, but if nothing else, 50+ hours in a car with him only more solidified his awesomeness.) I’m also surprisingly sane for sitting alone in my apartment– sleeping, recently bathed basset sleeping on the couch behind me not included– on the last night of my very last Spring Break ever, catching up on homework, brushing up for an internship interview tomorrow, not all that concerned that there are only eight weeks before BLAM-O real life. Oh, speaking of aforementioned hound, apparently he was an absolute shithead (sorry, but that’s really the only way to describe it) for my parents when they watched him all week. An adorable one, but pretty misbehaved nonetheless. I do have to give them props, he seems to have taken some disciplinary lessons to heart, though he may still just be exhausted from having 12 acres to himself for six days. I shall leave you now with some photos since my brilliant literary descriptions could never be enough.

There was a LOT of this.

Glorious. The weather was absolutely perfect the entire time.

You can take the girl outta Germany...

Yes, after that much time spent together, we're still speaking to each other.

And finally, perhaps the most important part of the whole trip! DID YOU KNOW YOU CAN GET PICKLES ON YOUR IN-N-OUT BURGER?! I've died.

Having survived the 27 hour drive to Vegas, I’ve now had the chance to enjoy my Spring Break destination for three nights (because in Sin City no one’s awake during the day anyway, right?) and learn a few things about myself along the way.

-I am a morning person. Ok, so this realization has been brewing for several weeks & the two hour time difference probably helps, but I have been up with the sun every day since leaving home. This also means staying up until even midnight is a challenge, much to the chagrin of my travel companions.

-I’m not a sit by the pool and relax type of vacationer. I prefer to be doing something, even when I am sitting poolside. I may have brought my laptop outside with me to search for wireless to send something to my editor. Yes, I felt like a tool and was being far too self important, but even on Spring Break there’s deadlines and jobs to search for (anxiety much? Perhaps.)

-You can get pickles on In-n-Out burgers, upping the already insane delicious factor. Also, their fries really aren’t that great and should be skipped so as to not detract from the cheeseburger-y awesomeness.

-Vegas is different when you’re the one paying
for it. Shout out to my father, he’s always taken great care of all of us on vacation. Traveling as a group of college students facing the brink of unemployment is a whole different ballgame, however, making me more thankful for the nicer vacations I’ve had and weary about my financial future when paired with my wanderlust.

-Flats are better than heels when you gotta do anything besides sit around and look pretty. Or perhaps this post could be titled “Brittney Goes to Vegas and Realizes She’s Become an Old Person.” I promise my next bullet point will not be how I’ve discovered the joys of eating dinner before 5 pm.

That’s actually gonna be it due to fear of hand cancer from holding my Droid for so long. If this post is rife with spelling errors or errant punctuation, blame it on big thumbs typing on a tiny touchscreen.

I suppose it had to happen sometime. Honestly, I was expecting it long before this, but it still blindsided me nonetheless: the graduation freak out. I completely blame Spring Break for this (and the fact that the shorts I wore often in Vegas in June won’t, um, be packed for this trip) because I finally did some math and realized that when we return from the magical land of neon, In-n-Out, and yard-a margaritas, there will be only eight weeks left until the end of the semester. To be fair, our lease isn’t up until the first of August and the job I have will gladly keep me until then, but still. To prove your grown up-ness, you’re really supposed to have a job waiting to greet you on the other side of the stage. Well, the proverbial stage. I will not be walking across the literal one for a bevy of reasons, only one of those being that we have to be at the ceremony at 8:15 a.m. Oh and that they’ll be reading like 4,000 names. After some speeches. And a lot of picture taking. Yikes.

ANYWAY– back to my life revelations– I was in my room, throwing WAY too many clothes and shoes for a one week trip (no, I won’t tell you how many pairs I’m taking) into a giant suitcase, listening to some Kanye, then Gaga, then slowing it down with some Coldplay and Smashing Pumpkins. All irrelevant, but scene-setting, go with it. I don’t know what sparked this pity party, but all of a sudden I start thinking of good-byes and one of Neil’s roommates going to San Francisco for the summer and wait, I won’t be in ‘Frisco for the summer, which means we’ll be apart, which means none of us will know what to do because if there’s a walking definition of “codependent,” it’s me and them 713ers. Well, some of ‘em. My brain is a terribly anxious place to live. What are NPH and I to do when we both get fabulous job offers in two very different places? Fergus likes me far better, though I’m much less patient with him than Neil. Is there some sort of canine custody agreement we’ll have to enter into since ever living anywhere but Iowa City didn’t seem to cross our minds when making quite a snap puppy decision in Petland?! (Actually, Neil did think of that before we got him. I’m taking the dog. Cat’s, er, puppy’s outta the bag.) Yeah, yeah, I realize everything will be fine and this stuff happens to everyone all the time and that a public blog is probably the last place I need to be airing these very self-centered grievances, but alas, here I am. It’s probably not going to get much better from here and will in fact get much worse. Probably tears will be involved, yikes. Thankfully boot camp will be over so I can resume my Thursday night drinking. And Tuesday and Sunday. That was a joke, Mother.

I know it’s time to blog when my grandmother texts me, “How’s NPH and Fergus?” To answer her question, they’re both fabulous. One is currently all wet and sleeping in a furry ball next to me, the other is at work. I’ll let you determine which is which. In an attempt to put off all homework this week until the very last possible second, I’m watching reruns of “Sex and the City” (the Alexsander/ Paris episodes are so painful) and dreaming of the 75 degree weather and lack of sobriety I’ll be enjoying in Vegas over Spring Break next week. Tired isn’t really a word in my vocabulary any longer, it’s more of a lifestyle. Tomorrow is the second to last day of bootcamp, something I’ve almost started to look forward to save for my alarm set for 6:15 am three times a week. I’ve been applying to jobs (well, more internships) like crazy over the past couple days. NPH isn’t so sure about the grad school route right after graduation, so he’s been joining me in this lovely circus we call the job hunt. He had a phone interview today though, the lucky (deserving) bastard, so he will soooo be picking up the check for a while until some sort of HR manager decides to acknowledge that I do, in fact, have a brain and slightly credible resume. I hate to give random updates and run, but I’ve got two deadlines looming for the same story– different spins– that should have been done hours, if not days, ago. Such is my glamorous life (and yes, I did just recite that damn Fergie song to spell glamorous correctly. I resent that.)

Very, very, very quick post.

I’m in the guest bedroom at Natalie’s house, about ready to pass out from exhaustion. This has been quite the long week, and my weekend is only going to get busier (but so, so much more fun.) In the morning we fly to Boston– send up a few quick ones that snow overnight won’t delay our flight out– and get approximately 48 hours in the most fabulous city (ok, 3rd most fabulous) in the world to eat, drink, play, network, schmooze, make friends, see the sights, and really anything but sleep. Did I mention our hotel has warm cookies for each guest upon arrival?

Fergus lost his manhood on Wednesday, but as the receptionist told me when I picked up this morning, “I don’t think he even realized he had surgery.” He’s already back to his rambunctious puppy self, and I will miss him terribly in my absence. I had my first midterm of the semester on Tuesday, pretty sure I rocked it, though I find myself caring less and less as we get closer to May whether I did or not. The fact that we’re leaving for Vegas for Spring Break two weeks from tomorrow is nuts. Complete and utter insanity. I will mostly likely be back here in the ‘burbs next weekend for a night while Neil gets his car in tip-top shape before the drive, so there really is no rest for the weary. Not that I’m complaining, things are quite awesome as of late.

(Oh, bootcamp still leaves me pretty sore– and ravenous– but getting up before the sun is getting easier, and I’m starting to notice larger muscles. Now if only the extra inches around my abs that have settled in post half marathon training would get the hell outta here.)

The thermometer outside one of the banks downtown read 64 today, yee-haw. It feels more like April than February, and I’m experiencing some major Germany flashbacks. I took full advantage of the above average temps and went for my first outside run of the year this morning. I did about 2.5 miles which actually really helped some of the lingering soreness from boot camp, though my lungs and legs seemed to be in a contest of which wanted to make me feel more out of shape during the whole thing. Fergus and I also went on a walk after class, though when his very low to the ground tummy meets this melty/muddy/puddle stuff, let’s just say either I’ll be investing in a lot more dog shampoo– not exactly likely since baths are not his favorite– or we might just have a dingy pup for the entire season.

The concert on Monday was, in a word, amazing. In two words, holy crap. We went to dinner at Bier Stube where they had an impressive imported beer selection and a semi-authentic menu that did not disappoint. (I mean, it was no Germany, but for Moline, Illinois it was pretty legit.) We got to the venue right as the doors were opening, and we wasted no time finding our seats which were really good. It’s not that big of a place (they play arena football there which as Neil informed me is the size of only half a football field) so it seems there aren’t many seats that could be deemed nosebleed. Both of us were quite surprised by the amount of preteen and grade school-aged children in attendance. Granted, many were with their parents, but they all had their own Ozzy shirts and appeared to be just as big of fans as the leather-clad, ruffian (thanks for the spelling lesson, Kayla) middle-aged chaperons. (I JUST LEARNED THAT ‘CHAPERON’ DOES NOT HAVE AN ‘E’ AT THE END. Holy schmoligans.)

Slash came out at 7:20, even though our tickets said the show didn’t start until 7:30, and played through lots of Guns ‘n Roses songs as well as some from his recent solo album, all with Myles Kennedy singing vocals. While he was no Axl, he’s not at all a bad singer and it was a really good performance. Of course I am in no way biased. Seeing Slash play Sweet Child o’ Mine and Paradise City in person (shirtless!!) made every single one of my adolescent dreams come true. It was so. awesome. Ozzy’s set started with a super funny parody video in which he was CGI-ed into pop culture stuff. For example, he was an Avatar, then he was Mike “The Situation” in a clip from Jersey Shore, then he appropriately became Iron Man from a clip from the second movie, and he was Beyonce in Gaga’s “Telephone” video which was absolutely my favorite. He finally came out, long black trench coat and hair a-waving, launching into most of his greatest hits, and generally still owning and rocking out on the stage despite being in his sixties. The entire concert was amazing, I had a huge smile on my face the entire time, the crowd loved, two thumbs up to all involved.

And with that, I’m off to make sure my car is super, sparkling clean since it’s my job to pick up our keynote speaker for PR Day (which is tomorrow!!!) from the airport.

Oh my sweet goodness, where do I start.

Perhaps I was the last person on the planet to see The Social Network, but Neil and I grabbed it at a Red Box after class this evening and are almost done viewing it. She’s blogging and the movie’s not even over? Not a good sign. I do not enjoy this movie. I would not watch this movie again. I’ve never liked Jesse Eisenberg (being Team Cera and all) though I suppose he’s a good actor if this movie makes me hate him even more. I’ve also been of the school of thought than any movie with Justin Timberlake in it has no business being nominated for awards, but that’s neither here nor there. Quite simply, I am bored with this movie. Let’s leave alone the fact that it makes me hate Mark Zuckerberg with a passion (yes, I get it, it’s a movie and not true, but the guy is still an A-S-S-H-O-L-E) but this is not a great movie. It’s a movie about a bunch of self-absorbed assholes that got lucky, then self-inflated, then couldn’t deal with suffering the consequences. Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher can collect awards for weaving together the court scenes with the flashbacks, but that’s about all I’ve got to put in the “pro” column so far. I can’t seem to separate my intense hatred for most people involved (so I can give a small pat on some backs for good acting) and simply put, I do not enjoy this movie.

Ooh, one lesson learned: don’t blog drunk. I’m looking at you, Kayla Rae

Thank you to my professor this morning who either mysteriously read my blog or just my mind, because he informed us during class that college is a cake walk and our lives will only be busier the older we get. Ausgezeichnet!

Speaking of German stuff, Deutsche Bahn cancelled my Bahn Card. Cue the Hallelujah chorus! I’d emailed them a very painful, “Hi, sorry my German’s pretty bad, could you cancel my card since I’m not in the country anymore,” email on the day after it was scheduled to be renewed (oops) and today got a reply. Apparently you’re supposed to notify them six weeks prior to the renewal date, but were considering this an “exceptional circumstance” and cancelling it as an “act of goodwill.” For as much as those people love rules and reprimanding those who don’t know or follow them, this is all nothing short of a miracle. I hope they had a lovely guffaw over my email and lack of general knowledge about the runnings of their system, but I now retract everything I previously said in hatred about the Deutsche Bahn.

I made NPH and I spaghetti for dinner last night while watch the State of the Union (Obama rocked it) and Teen Mom 2 (boring episode) because I’m the epitome of domesticity. It was awesome, one of those foods I forget exists and never eat often anyway, but once I did I was all, “This is ausgezeichnet!” (Which Google Translate is showing me means ‘awarded’ but so obviously means ‘excellent’.)

Because I was such an amazing girlfriend during NPH’s illness, he decided to take me out to eat as a way of saying thank you. Sure, he could have gotten flowers or some dumb card, but this kid knows the way to my heart. So to Texas Roadhouse we went today, because one: I seem to be coming back from my previous vegetarianism with a vengeance, and two: he had never been. I KNOW. My boyfriend, who might as well have barbecue sauce pumping through his veins in lieu of blood, had before today never been to Texas Roadhouse. Egads. It is because of this amazing, rolls-on-the-table, pick two sides with your entree of ‘cued meat establishment, I am now in a full-on food coma on the couch while Fergus sleeps on my lap and Neil flips between infommercials, Pawn Stars, and the Bears-Packers game. (I’ve decided to cheer for the Bears today for really no other reason than I’m feeling fickle toward the Packers this season.) The ol’ Roadhouse didn’t disappoint (I had the ribs, he had the pulled pork, we shared, it was adorable) and of COURSE I was all, “You know I ate eight of these rolls one time in five minutes to win a roll-eating competition during Relay for Life our freshman year, right?!??!” Yes, Brittney. We all know. I informed my dining companion that I’m 100% certain I could shatter my previous record, but since I was already branded a freak for wearing flip-flops, I decided to not give the neighboring tables anything more at which to stare. (Don’t ask– 713 had a small-ish soiree of 100+ people last night and I didn’t feel like pulling on my fashion boots just to head out to lunch. So I borrowed a pair of Bryce’s flip-flops, obviously.) Apparently I have “homework” that’s “due tomorrow” because we’re still in “college” and life isn’t just one long “winter break.” As you may have inferred from the air quotes, I believe none of this. Priority numero uno is a nap, and hopefully when I wake up, it will magically be again the day after Christmas and I will have zero responsibilities in the upcoming weeks.

(For those of you stopping by just to check in on the state of NPH’s health, he is in fact still alive and doing well. Now he just has a really, really annoying cough that makes me want to throw the dog at him whenever he starts a-hackin’.)

The first week of classes went by pretty unremarkably (Wordpress is still me that’s spelled wrong, but Dictionary.com says it’s an acceptable adverb. Huh.) though I did get to do the add/drop slip dance on Thursday because one of my classes was already unbearable and not looking to get much better. I realize I could have just sucked it up, but it’s my last semester here, people; my lack of interest in the subject combined with the workload was setting me up for quite the uphill battle I had no intention of attempting. TURNS OUT the boyfriend and I have two classes together, one is a really fun elective that nearly everyone I know is taking, the other is a political science class from a professor I enjoyed last semester. At first I think we (ok, probably just he) were like ehhhh that’s weird, but it’s really not that bad. It’s not like we can sit there and gab like besties– we’re in a class like any other, it just turns out I might get walked home by the person sitting next to me afterward. I feel this will also work hugely to my advantage around test time because he’s a diligent student who does the readings, whereas I spend my time “studying” harassing him for pretzel M&Ms and checking out job opportunities in Boston.

Speaking of moving far away places, Roomie Lauren has some amazing opportunity to move to Dublin because she rocks socks at well, everything, and last night I was all omgI’llcomewithyou and we’ll make a fabulous life in Ireland together! Because ok, we may have been at a bar. We shook on and it were dreaming of Irishmen and lush hills of Guinness all evening, so this morning I decided to Google “moving to Dublin.” Turns out Dublin’s one of the most expensive cities in the world, and it’s not all that easy to just up and move to another country. She’s still sleeping so I won’t interrupt her clover-filled dreams, but I’m probably going to stay Stateside, at least for a while until I can afford more than a shack and a half-passable work visa.

Oh and shout-out to my family already in Hawaii and those will be soon arriving for a wedding!!