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

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.

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.

Currently I’m supposed to be putting in some hours at work, but the kindness of my boss coupled with a signed doctor’s note for rest means I’m off today.  To SLEEP!!  And let my blood return to normal.  Won’t you come along with me for this emergency room tale?

So it was after dinner about an hour or two and my head HURT.  Like, oh hey this headache is kind of getting in the way of me doing normal things and is generally making me very agitated.  I woke up quite tired yesterday so chalked it up to that until a massive wave of nausea hit like OhmygodI’mgonnapukeNOW (but thankfully didn’t.)  I was officially sick, so decided to just go to sleep.  Laying down wasn’t great, however.  Methinks I psyched myself out a bit and got oddly scared about what it could be– I just felt off– so instead of trying harder to sleep, I went downstairs.  And ate a brownie, but that’s just normal me, nothing to see here.  That’s when I noticed I felt kinda dizzy and my eyes were blurrier than my normal terrible vision.  NOW I’m freaking out, and spend a good chunk of time wavering between “Oh it’s nothing” and “I should text NPH because I’m not living through the night.”  I tried laying down again and this is when I noticed there was a massive pressure on the right side of my head and upper arm, like something was pushing on me.  This spread into a numb, tingly feeling along pretty much the right side of my body, and about now is the point when I went downstairs and alerted T-Bone that something was up.  My mother was oddly calm about it as I’m sitting on her bed crying because the room’s kinda going in and out of focus, and after listening to what’s up she decided the hospital is probably a good bet.  She suggested something about drinking a G2 since I could just be dehydrated after my run, but I assured her I had drank so much water afterward, that would be impossible (and I really did.  Heinous amounts of water.  And a very nutritious meal.)

Thankfully the ER was deserted and they got me in right away, first finding out that my blood pressure was pretty freakin’ high for me, though I was was equally freakin’ nervous about being in the hospital.  I also had a low fever and was shaking because apparently Methodist West has a harem of polar bears roaming the place who need the air conditioning set near arctic temperatures.  I got dressed in a hospital gown (and was wearing my most God-awful, way too big, really old undies because I had THOUGHT I was just going to bed) and got a bunch of blood drawn and got hooked up to a blood pressure machine and got a saline IV hooked up in my arm.  Methinks perhaps the giant needle stuck in my arm for three hours eventually hurt worse than anything I was in there for in the first place.  A bunch of people came in, each one asking if there was any way at all I was pregnant, causing my mother to possibly need medical attention more than myself.  The doctor kept asking if I was on “street drugs” and then did a bunch of coordination/ strength tests to see if I’d had an acute stroke (um, no.)  He sent me for a CAT scan anyway, which thankfully came back negative (so did the pregnancy test– rest easy, mother) though my blood work showed a pretty low potassium level.  They gave me some giant horse pills and a prescription of potassium and told me to eat lots of prunes daily because they actually have much more potassium than bananas.  My sodium levels were also off so we had to wait until my IV had dripped its full liter of fluid in me before leaving.

My mother, while I’m thankful for her driving me and remaining calm while internally I was quite freaking out, is not perhaps the best to have in an ER situation as 1.) She’s no good after about 1 am and I feared she’d rip the IV out of me herself so we could go home to sleep and 2.) “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so.”  Because THAT’S what someone in a hospital bed wants to hear.  Yes, some of the reasons I was in there could be chalked up to dehydration, though not because I didn’t drink plenty of water after my run.  It’s actually because I drank so much, I peed all the time, and your body naturally gets rid of a certain amount of potassium every time you pee.  All the water diluted the salt in me, so even though I had SALTED nuts after my run and a bunch of other things you’d think would have nutritionally benefited this situation, no dice.  The doctor said this also could have been a progressive thing– lack of potassium in my diet + lots of sweating during event set up at work + running + only drinking water and not “watered down Gatorade a small pretzel” = feeling like shit.  And low potassium can cause the “tinglies.”  And he thinks there was a migraine somewhere in there.

In conclusion, sorry that was so long.  I feel better today though very tired, so will nap in between the timing of my football-sized potassium pills.  At Adventureland on Saturday I’ll have to drink something other than just water, and boy oh boy I sure can’t wait til prunes become a staple of my diet.

Hello, world– it is I, the girl who apparently has nothing interesting to say upon her return to the States.  My internship is going fabulously,  but per the social media clause in my employee handbook I can’t divulge where it is or give lot of  details about what I do there. I’m extra loving that it’s paid, a perk that couples nicely with the fact I’m not paying rent to live at home (a fact of which my father keeps reminding me.)  I promise myself, my parents, my car, and my dear readers that I will NOT be going to Iowa City every weekend or chance I get a day off… though that’s exactly what I did after work on Saturday.  All of 713 except for NPH had gone home for the weekend, giving us the perfect opportunity to geek out and be Brittney and Neil circa fall ‘09– aka eat brats, drink beer, and watch The Departed.  We’re either the coolest or lamest couple you know, I’ll let you decide and keep the answer to yourself.  Upon returning to work on Monday I felt awful. Like I wanted to hurl all day kind of awful.  And later that night, while driving home, that’s exactly what I did.  I’ve now reached a blogging crossroads in which I could either summarize the last 24 hours as “I’m sick” OR I could go into extreme detail about the puking carnage that occurred IN MY CAR while I was at a stoplight and NO, I did not have the foresight to roll down the window or open the door. Yeah, pretty gruesome.  Anyway, apparently when you’re sick and have just dispelled the contents of your stomach onto the pile of work polos sitting in your passenger seat, you revert to early childhood and start crying and call your mom.  God bless this woman, she met me outside when I pulled up and CLEANED UP THE PUKE IN MY CAR while I just stood outside of it, crying, “It’s so GROSS!!!”  She sent me inside to peel off my clothing (which she also washed, in retrospect I owe her at least a nice card or hanging basket) and then set a trash can and a glass of 7-Up next to my dying form in my bed where I’ve been ever since.  So, while I give this woman a lot of shit in life, a giant THANK YOU goes out to T-Bone for going above and beyond her Mom duties yesterday.  While I still don’t feel 100%, the whole upchucking thing appears to have gone away after a much more spectacular encore performance around 10:30 last night.  (In case you were wondering, the ol’ boyfriend was ill last week and I completely and resolutely blame every single part of my illness on him.)

On CNN, there is currently an article about a man stabbing 29 pigs during a drunken black out.

No one asks me about Germany anymore.

If I could scream and cry as loud as the infant I currently feel like, I would.  My sinuses are full of God-knows-what and under horrible pressure, causing the teeth on the right side of my mouth to HURT like nothing’s hurt before.  I imagine this is what growing teeth as a baby felt like– I’m in so much pain. Now that the unnecessary medical updates are out of the way…

I LOVE MY NEW JOB/INTERNSHIP.  ’Tis only my second day, but this stuff is the big leagues, baby.  It’s a little bit of everything– event planning, marketing, public relations. Apparently I became an adult at some point and have full-on events, responsibilities, projects, and deadlines without someone holding my hand the entire time.  Yesterday (after an annoyingly long commute in which I decided the only thing I hate more than traffic lights is morning radio shows) I rolled up and was not nervous.  You know I’d tell you if I was, but the feeling simply wasn’t there.  I kept waiting to get all anxiety-ridden and piss myself halfway through meeting the staff, but it never happened.  I suppose I’ll thank the whole Germany experience for this new addition of personal confidence.  Living at home is… getting better.  Someone wasn’t being very optimistic about it in the beginning, but it’s not too bad of a gig.  Knowing he’s only two hours down the road, I miss NPH possibly more than I did when we were separated by an ocean, but let’s not get into that crying jag via Skype on the public blog, mmmkay?

Yes, I realize this post was a mundane update on my less-than-blogworthy life, es tut mir leid (how many languages can YOU say “I’m sorry” in?)  Get excited for a MOVIE REVIEW tomorrow (Robert Downey, Jr. and kettle corn?  Um, yes please) and Vegas preparations because there are officially only two weeks until my 21st birthday and 16 days until my favorite, favorite, favorite (American) city.  And more importantly, In-n-Out Burger.

My last night in IC was better than anything I could have asked for or Facebook event-ed for myself.  Magically I saw almost everyone I would have wanted to hang out with at some point in the evening which was NEAT-O.  Lots of people hugged me, and I hugged them back (I know, you’re shocked– this whole maturing thing is weirding me out, too.)  Today I had leftover pokey sticks for breakfast and Hy-Vee chinese for lunch.  The stabbing stomach pains that have resulted do not want dinner, just water and sleep.  And my THROAT hurts like a SONUVABITCH, so that’s cool– getting sick for Christmas.

Things I don’t want to talk about: saying good-bye to NPH.  Can I just say that I never cried in front of anyone during this whole going away process?  I’m quite proud of myself for that.  I mean, my car might be a different story and other drivers on I-80 tonight were probably extemely concerned that I was going to careen through a guardrail at any point, but STILL– the actual parting of ways was not that bad.  The resulting wallowing is pretty painful, at least for those around me anyway.  It’s not like anyone’s dying or anything, and I’m starting to get REALLYEXCITED for Germany, but separation anxiety is still no picnic.

Things I would love to talk about: the scholarship letter I got in the mail today.  Woo-hoo, journalism school!  By some weird miracle I applied  on time and the powers that be decided my grades and stroke-of-luck writing samples warranted a big ol’ check to help pay for college.  That’s pretty boss.

I’m home, my parents are off at a Christmas party, I’M GOING TO BED.  It’s 7 pm.  Wow, Brittney.  Your life is too.much.fun. to handle.  Hey– this little illness festering away in my nodes isn’t going to go away by itself.  Also, when one is mourning the loss of their partner in crime for five months, sleep is a much more attractive option than watching I Love You, Man with your brother because it would just remind you of the Paul Rudd poster hanging over the TV in 713’s living room and then all of a sudden you’d be bawling again and calling Kayla who would get really concerned that something actual tears-worthy had happened but you’d have to explain to her that it’s just because you already miss NPH and she’d be all “Good God woman get ahold of yourself.”  I mean, that didn’t happen.  I’m just saying… I could see a scenario like it in which sleep is always the better option.

Who called classes being cancelled today?  THIS GUY.  You can hire me out as a psychic if you want.  Even though the rest of campus got to sleep in til their hearts content, I woke up before the sun and went to work.  Sigh the shameless things I do for money.  About halfway through the day though I said Eff This and blazed my way through the BLIZZARD to 713 because NPH and I have papers due as well as co-dependency issues.  Needless to say, not much headway has been done on my article due tomorrow.

The antibiotics have kicked in and BOY HOWDY do I feel 100% better.  After work yesterday I went holiday baking cr-AZ-y and whipped up some peanut butter balls, frosted sugar cookies, and chocolate covered pretzels to give to some of my favorite locals/ those I owed favors to (for those of you getting all pissed because you were given the shaft: cool your jets– T-Bone’s shipped over a box of brownie mix, sprinkles, etc. and you will be recipients of Holiday Baking Extravaganza Round II.)

Apparently there is a university-wide snowball fight happening at the Pentacrest right now.  Over 3,000 people have RSVPed on Facebook (even though they just sent an update that the snow is terrible for packing.)  Lo siento, but this kind of shit really does not trip my trigger.  First of all: IT’S COLD AS BALLS OUTSIDE.  Secondly, I don’t like my peers near enough to meet them en mass and talk about “Ohemgeebestsnowdayever!!!”  We had two our freshman year, I’m over it.  If anything, I really wish we had school today because the ONE PRESENTATION we were being graded on the ENTIRE SEMESTER in one of my classes was supposed to be today.  So… not really sure where we’re going from here.  I do know that exactly 24 hours from now, my semester is over save one final next Wednesday morning.

Melanie my language buddy responded to some of my questions I had about Luneburg.  To my GREAT PLEASURE she informed that it rains most nearly every day there.  Awesome.  At least I’ll save room in my suitcase not bringing any hair products/appliances.  She also thankfully told me that every student at Leuphana University speaks English– they’re not allowed admission if they don’t.  So while I plan on being quite fluent in German when I leave, at least there won’t be a complete language barrier when I arrive.

Pee Wee’s Big Adventure is on in half an hour– a greater gift from God than any snow day could ever be.

Before I jump into my lovely nonsensical post, may I just rant that we had tomorrow ALL SET UP to sign the subleases for our apartment, but the landlord then reminded me that any new applicants have to FILL OUT PAPERWORK (which really isn’t that extensive, but it requires some parent signatures and a fax machine and $25 and a background check and UGH.)  So perhaps it will get signed by the time I return from Germany.  POOOOOP.

Anyway… guess what, dear kiddos– it snowed.  I was pretty oblivious to this, thanks to my new best friend NyQuil.  By 6 pm last night I was sound asleep and didn’t wake up til my alarm this morning at 7.  That’s 13 hours, for those of you counting at home.  A interesting thing about any sort of precipitation is that I am grossly unprepared.  I do not currently have boots, gloves, a hat, or scarf in my possession.  (That loud bang you just heard was my mother shooting me through the Internet.  I imagine there was also some sort of “BRITTNEYMARIE no wonder you’re sick!” followed by a lot of huffing and complaining to my father.)  At some point I had these things, but I’m not certain where they’ve gone.  NPH gave me some gloves at 713, but I forgot them there on Saturday.  Today it doesn’t really matter since I’m generating enough body heat to run a small-engine vehicle for a short distance, even though the thermometer says my temperature is 96 degrees.  Yep.  I am a cold-blooded freak.

The one thing that does peeve me right is my lack of proper footwear.  Apparently snow has not been deemed cool enough for the hipster population of Iowa City to give a shit, so those in charge have decided to just let it sit there, getting all gray and slushy and killing any hopes of a semi-normal walk to class.  I’ve survived two winters here with only tennis shoes and a prayer getting me place to place, but I should think I’d like to get boots before heading thousands of miles east where I presume there will also be snow.  (Note to self; I also need a phrasebook, clock, watch batteries, and a few more thousands of dollars, should I find some just lying about on the sidewalk.)

OH, my German language buddy just e-mailed me.  Her name is Melanie (I will get along with her, I will get along with her.)  She doesn’t write English that well, but asked how long I’ve been studying German.  Uhh, does a few phrases online count as studying?  I am so royally fucked on this not-knowing-the-language-of-the-place-I’m-living-for-four-months thing.  If in any sort of sticky German situation, the phrases I could hope to throw out include, “I miss you” “I love you”, the numbers 1-3, “the child is fat”, “the car is silver”, and “Good-bye” (though I’ll never be able to say it quite like Heidi Klum a la Project Runway.  Drat.)

“When you study abroad, be careful who you hang out with and what you do over there.” –our professor after discussing the Amanda Knox ordeal.  This is the same professor who just had us watch part of the Jerry Springer show to highlight the difference between indecency and obscenity.  The proximity of Germany to Amsterdam was only recently revealed to me, so really there should be no question as to what I’ll be doing there.

After 13 hours of sleep last night I woke up feeling horrid.  I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work, so I went to student death health where they loaded me with antibiotics for a sinus infection.  The rest of the day has been spent in bed, wondering if my head and throat could possibly feel any worse, and I have decided that no, they cannot.  NPH offered to bring me juice after class (thanks, buddy) but not only would that have thrust him far into boyfriend territory, I also have a freak love for going to HyVee and wanted to do it myself.  A carton of orange juice, some NyQuil (on sale!), a can of soup & some apple cider flavored tea later and I think I’m good to go.  To bed, that is, which I’ll be doing here in about ten minutes.  Yes, it is approximately 5 p.m.

Congrats to the Hawkeyes for making it to the Orange Bowl.  I know many people who plan on going to Miami for the game, and GUESS WHAT we’ll be down at about the same time because that’s where we fly in and out of for our cruise.

If you have a moment and want to read something far more interesting than my mindless blathering, check out this article in today’s DI.  It’s about binge drinking (BIGSURPRISE) but I liked his one much more than some of their previous.  Perhaps because if you check out the multimedia package on the right there’s pictures of people who’ve puked on themselves.  As far as remeding the situation, Greek life should definitely be wet (something ISU has over us) and students will just have to be cognizant of how much they’re drinking on their own.  Long editorials and city council meetings are obviously not changing anything, we’re all so friggin’ tired of hearing we drink too much.  Don’t they say about addicts, you can’t change them until they finally want to change?  The underage drinkers and binge drinkers of Iowa City obviously don’t want to change, and the ones who do, will.  No one’s done anything significant to impede our drinking, and if they did, we’d relegate ourselves indoors to house parties and more lame backyard kegs a la Ames to get the job done.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with some nasty cherry-flavored NyQuil in hopes of just sleeping this thing off.