I realize the title of this post may have you thinking I’m writing it to Jesus, and while I do wish all of you reading a very Merry Christmas, it is in fact dedicated to someone else who’s birthday happens to fall on December 25th.

So do ya’ll remember D-Bag? From my Germany blog, my best friend while studying abroad who is fact not at all “d-baggish”, but rather his initials are D.B. so somehow that became his nickname that didn’t really catch on at all? Yes, of course you do. Well today is his birthday, and I wish him a very happy one. It’s probably automatically better than last years, because as I recall, he was wandering Oslo, Norway completely alone since he didn’t really get the memo that absolutely everything would be closed on Christmas day. And maybe he didn’t want me to tell you that, my bad.
Anyway, I hope today is the most wonderful of days for my dear friend, translator, drinking buddy, occasional secret keeper, Mensa companion, Tablekicken partner and/or ass-kicker, tour guide, and a bunch of other stuff that I don’t really want to recall right now because before you know it, I’d kick off Christmas covered in salty tears in the fetal position. I didn’t go to Germany expecting to make such good pals with my overly sarcastic American neighbor, yet here I am full-on rambling about him, and whenever he sends me a Facebook message it seriously makes me day. (And no, after re-reading this, we are not in love or anything and never did the horizontal no-pants dance after a night of Sambuca shots on karaoke night. Turns out I just have a platonic man-crush on him because he can bike like 200 miles uphill with only a sip of water and a saltine cracker.)
THE POINT IS– happy birthday, Darin. I’m so looking forward to our brief reunion in March being characteristically awkward, and I hope you’re having the time of your life doing whatever it is you do, which whenever we talk seems to be drinking a beer and watching a movie auf Deutsch.

(Imagine me ending with a photo of him or us or a sunset or something, but there’s only one photo of us together in recorded history and God knows I can’t find it right now and it was in a bar anyway, thus just use your imaginations and Etch-a-Sketch whatever you think he may look like. Oh, and Merry Christmas again. Or happy super belated Hanukkah.)

So there’s this part about studying abroad that no one ever tells you about. The part where you’re walking to class and suddenly have this vivid, I don’t know, vision of Germany. An incredibly detailed, real-life flashback of sorts to a particular part of town or campus that had long ago been filed into the deep recesses of your brain. “That was cool,” you think, and perhaps you dwell and reminisce, but let’s face it– you can’t spend too much time browsing Expedia for discounted Oktoberfest flights because you’re back in your full time life you have to live. But then maybe it’s because you work in the study abroad office, or maybe because you’ve been recently chatting with your friends who were also in your program; either way, it starts to become more than just That One Time I Studied Abroad. (Beware: shit’s about to get real up ahead.) It eventually becomes you trying to go to sleep at the end of a gloomy, but otherwise uneventful day, but you can’t because your brain’s stuck on a million things, but mostly just how damn much you miss the whole thing. MAYBE you start crying (and then seriously question your mental state.) You rationally acknowledge that this is probably because you found freedoms and independence while living abroad that you’re still grappling with over here. That maybe you’re scared you’re a senior and that was your last time to really live it up before the 9-5 grind of adult life really sets in. But maybe you just really miss your neighbors and the stuffy old ladies on the bus and how your nasty, mildewy hallway smelled, and how the kitchen floor creaked every time someone opened the refrigerator. Maybe you’re mad that your handle on the German language is quickly escaping you and that people want to see you so often when Don’t you know you already lived without me for four months?
If nothing else, I can be thankful I only went for one semester because apparently I would have found a roof or bridge a long time ago if I’d devoted a whole year of my life to loving up on Luneburg (if you couldn’t tell, the above diatribe was about me. I know– you were completely fooled.) Honestly, I don’t know where this has all come from, and I’m sure you’re reading, thinking, “Just get the hell over it,” because mathematically, I’ve now been home the same amount of time I was gone. No, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I wouldn’t even really mind all this nostalgia save for the fact it’s just made me plum sad. I’m sure I’ve been just a peach to be around (hey– two fruit references in two sentences!) and this doesn’t even include all the other stuff that keeps me up at night, i.e. how much I despise my classes, if I’m doing enough for my jobs, how one even goes about starting the job hunt process, heartburn, the goddamn train I live next to.
…and if you’ve made it to the end, you deserve a gold star and possibly a shot.

Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done/ had done
… well now this is just entering dangerous territory. Can I just say “senior year of high school” as the blanket answer? Fine. Let’s get detailed.

6. I wish I would have studied abroad earlier. A girl in our office has done FIVE, count it 5 times. I’ll be lucky if I make it to two.
4. At one time– and I no longer feel this way, but at one time I wished it so much it deserves mentioning– I wished I’d gone to Wartburg College. Or least explored private colleges more extensively than just picking Iowa.
3. I wish I never tried Pretzel M&Ms because my life is forever altered because of it. (Are you keeping count of how many times I mention them on the blog? Perhaps there will be a prize at the end…)
2. I wish I lived closer to D-Bag, because you don’t make best friends with someone and then just be separated forever.
1. I wish I had a basset hound puppy named Fergus Jackson. THERE– that’s his name. And I want him NOW!!

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

My suitcases are full, the Post-It lists on my wall are mostly checked off, the Hawkeyes are on TV in six hours.  I’ve been much calmer today than anticipated, kind of like the night before studying for a final when you just can’t care anymore about what grade you’re going to get.  I did have one mild to moderate breakdown (not for any particular reason, though being in a cemetery may not have helped) in which I found myself in a vehicle with no tissues and resorted to using my new scarf to wipe the streaming snot from my face.  But other than that, pretty freakin’ excited.  The German foreign exchange student my brother went to prom with lives in the town I’ll be studying in and although (I’m fairly certain) we never met, she’s excited for me to come and show me around and take me out on the town.

Internship application 3/3  was sent today, the one I’m most excited about, the one I’d PEE.MY.PANTS. if I got.  Maybe I’ll get ambitious and apply for more while abroad (HA).  Apparently with my spending habits, I need to find more than 10-15 hours at a sandwich place a week  to supply some cashflow.  I’m predicting around mid-March or April I’ll start freaking about my nebulous summer plans, don’t worry– I’ve accepted my self-diagnosis of CRIPPLING NEUROSIS.  I think when my mom and I went to the mall last week and I wouldn’t go up and ask the hair salon lady if I could get an appointment she realized that her daughter is a social FREAK (perhaps a new spin on the blog could be WhatMentalIllnessIsBrittneyOnTheCuspOfToday.com)

NPH keeps telling me to calm the truck down (<–see?  2010 resolution of swearing less), that “everyone loves Americans” (blatant lie) and “you’ll make friends so fast you’ll freak” (blatant Jimmy John’s rip-off.)  I’m no longer talking to him however because currently he and three other of my good friends are drunk in Miami for the Orange Bowl.  When he asked if I was just “chilling all day” and I said AREYOUHIGH today might be one of the most critically busy days of my life he responded “Oh yeah.  Well I just have drinking and football.”  I’m just SO happy for you.

My layover tomorrow in Chicago is four hours long.  I will not have a cell phone, thus it’s really a crapshoot as to whether I’ll have my sanity.  My trusty shiny new blue laptop will be with my however so I will be blogging, Facebooking, Twittering up a storm– how excited are YOU?!

“When are you due?”

“Excuse me?”

“Aren’t you pregnant?  You must be having triplets or something, at least eight months along I’d guess.”

“Nope.  Just a food baby.  A pretty epic Christmas indeed.”

And THAT’S how I imagine a random conversation going in the grocery store tomorrow should I find the motivation or ability to get up from the prone position I’ve just kind of fallen into. 

SO.MANY.THINGS. happened today:

1.) My father noticed the um, crack in my laptop that’s been hanging out on the right hinge of the screen for like, I don’t know… a month or so?  Or three?  It was way worse and I kind of just popped it back in place (yep, he’s not thrilled.  I am a dumbass.)  He asked what my genius self planned to do if the screen decided to just crap out on my one day, perhaps when I’m say, ohhhh THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY FROM HOME.  And I said “Uhh… Internet cafe?”  Wrong answer.  So now I get to decide whether to take my chances with this slightly handicapped Dell OR use some of my Christmas money to buy a new one.  I’m no math wizard, but the voices of reason in my life are gunning for me to get a new one to ensure (insure?) my sanity while abroad.  This option does not work well with my natural frugalness (parents, do NOT laugh– just because I can spend money like a drunken sailor at a strip club doesn’t mean this is something I want to spend said money on.)

2.) That guy tried to blow up that plane while landing in Detroit.  Normally, I don’t give two shits about things in the world not directly affecting me (I know, how mature of me) but this DOES alter my life, don’t you see?!?!  We fly out on Tuesday for Miami and sure as shit the FAA has already been all “We’re stepping up airport securtiy” AGAIN.  Even though everyone knows that if some guy on the news gets busted for sneaking bombs on in his shoes, the LAST TIME you’d want to repeat said manuever would be directly following said criminal activity.  Because that’s the first place they’re gonna look.  This is not rocket scientist, it is simply a childhood of a few too many Saturday morning cartoons.

3.) AND THIS IS A BIG ONE: So my friend Lauren (@laurensieben for all you Twitter freaks) was all “Yo Brittney, your blog is rad, we’re both studying abroad, let’s be rad together.”  So she and I now have a NEW BLOG that is devoted to our adventures in Europe.  (It is conveniently listed in the blogroll to your right!)  We have a lot in common–journalism majors, severe sarcasm, the wish to one day not be stuck busing tables forever, the ability to make at least two people outside of our families chuckle with our writing.  She’ll be in Spain, I’ll be in Germany.  Props to Papa K for getting creative with the doman name (Iowa Girls Gone Wild…hehe– we have no moral objections to our target audience being misguided perverts) and getting it all set up.

BUT WAIT, BRITTNEY– what does that mean for this little gem of a site?!?!  Never fear, you all know I’m much too self-serving to let my little Brittney Has Something To Say (dot com!  T-shirts available soon!) go by the wayside.  Perhaps when I’m lazy I’ll copy/paste the same post on both blogs.  There will certainly not be fresh content on both every day, or even every other– I plan on actually experiencing Europe and then perhaps filling in the details for you as an afterthought.  I haven’t actually thought that far ahead.  My main concern at the moment is what to wear home tomorrow since I’m quite certain I didn’t pack any muumuu’s big enough to cover this post-holiday girth.

Ohhh and I forget to tell you the absolute best part of today:

4.) I’m learning how to look into the webcam while Skyping instead of using it as a mirror.  Baby steps, people– baby steps.

Day two = poo!

Sorry for the childish rhyme, had to get it out.

WHERE did I get so many clothes?!  The amount of shirts, jeans, dresses, skirts, shoes,  belts (<– hehe I do own some, never wear them, sorry to those of you who have been casualties of that one) is beyond ridiculous.  And if you asked me right now, of COURSE I need new clothes.  I don’t wear most of what I have, and while I often go through my closet to give stuff away, I tend to keep a lot of things for hypothetical situations that happen at most twice a year (i.e. intense cardio, high class afternoon tea with government officials, job shadowing an auto mechanic.) It is ALL currently dumped on the floor in my room (and has spilled into the hallway) and I have no plans of organizing anything before I leave (I bet you $1,000,000.50 that my mother just read that and shouted at my somewhere in the house something about ‘Get your ASS upstairs and hang up that stuff.  I’m not going through it when you’re gone.’).  There will be two piles: cruise, Germany.  Luckily I’m much more prepared for the cruise since all of my “going out” clothes for IC don’t involve much material, I have zero idea how much/what I should be packing for Europe.  I plan on just wearing my 713 shirt day in and out until people stop trying to befriend me and start whispering behind my back about “the smelly American who bursts into tears at the mention of bratwurst or Miley Cyrus.”  I’m really planning on making quite the international reputation for myself.

DO.YOU.KNOW. where I’m going tonight?  Wine Tea.  Not just any tea, THE TEA my mother attends every Monday night with a handful of friends.  They only call it “tea” because, I don’t know, they don’t want everyone to know there’s anything BUT tea flowing, and that the conversations are much more tame than “I’m going to smack my child <insert name> because they are such a <insert deragatory adjective> and while I’m at it, so is <insert name of significant other.>” (Haaa, I kid… kind of.)  My brother calls it the DMC — Drunken Mother’s Club– but that’s not very nice.  I suppose what they’re doing is no different than what NPH and I do on a nightly regular basis, or why Lauren and I get together usually once a week and bitch about our lives and our lack of male attention and ever-increasing waistlines.  ANYWAY– I’m pretty pscyhed for this because 1.) I freakin’ love those ladies.  They are bat shit crazy, in the nicest way possible.  2.) I will be getting out of this house.  3.) They will be all “Oooh fresh meat” and ask me questions about myself– and I hope you’ve all realized by now, I’m my number one favorite topic– that will probably center around “WHO is this Neil kid and WHEN are you getting married?!?!?!”  And then I will calmly answer, “Never” and then text him “It’s happening again” and then he’ll offer to drive to Adel and run me down with his car to prove to the world that, in fact, we have ne’er seen each other naked.

Well now that I’ve completely forgotten any thesis I may have been trying to conclude upon, I will leave you and go FIND KAYLA since apparently she’s DIED en route or doesn’t realize this is our ONE DAY to hang out before I LEAVE possibly FOREVER.  Or until May, whichever comes first.

It’s my mama’s birthday, e’erybody– let’s give up a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY, T-BONE!!!

Yesterday NPH and I traveled to the GIANT METROPOLIS of Hills, Iowa and rented me a storage facility to move all my stuff into on Friday.  He knows my personalized gate code to get into the facility, has a key to it and is one of the alternate phone numbers should something go wrong with my stuff while I’m away.  Yup– we’re pretty much married.

Do you know what song and video are ABSOLUTELY ridiculous?!  “Video Phone” by Beyonce and my favorrrrrrite Lady Gaga.  It’s a song.  About a video phone.  No, Brittney.  But surprisingly… yes.  Gaga’s lookin a bit more tranny in this one, and now I can’t even watch the video with a straight face after seeing the following parody of it:

In other GREAT NEWS: Melanie (my German language buddy– come on people, keep up) 1. Added me on Facebook, and 2. Told me they eat LOTS OF BREAD there.  I had inquired about the food situation.  Her first response: bread.  “Hundreds of types.”  Plus lots of other carbs.  So while I might require two plane seats on the return flight, these next four months are looking to be pretty boss.

In about an hour here I have a Mesa pizza date with the always lovely Natalie (she just squealed with delight, my number one fan.)  Then I’ll be wandering aimlessly about town studying all afternoon until I meet my former boss for coffee later this evening.  Then I probably might actually read some notes or crack the textbook (HA– okay, that was a giant lie) and study til whenever I want since the final’s at 7:30 am.  And then DONE, BITCHES.  Go figure, NPH’s only final is also at 7:30 tomorrow morning, so you can imagine the kinds of shenanigans we’ll be getting into afterward.  And perhaps I should focus on packing the rest of my apartment at some point.  You know, just a thought.

Oh, and… drumroll please… in honor of my mother’s birth AND the fact that I have to go into public soon… today I’m going to shower!!

I just  kneed myself in the eye.  Let’s not ask how this happened.

So today was my last day at the hospital.  Just a typical morning of waking up too goddamn early to ride a bus full of far better looking, higher achieving students than I… UNTIL I went into the child psych clinic to get the papers from our mailbox and BAM “This will be the last time I ever do this.”  <–Sadness.  Weirdness.  Not sure how to feel-ness.  You see, I’ve held the same job for longer than I’ve been a student in college.  That’s a long time.  We’re talking winter breaks, summer breaks, snow days, in between classes for over two years.  While part of my perfect work world was shifted this summer when our department got merged with another and my lovely boss abandoned us, for the most part, it’s been a pretty smooth, fun ride.

I am (was?  SAD) ferociously good at my job.  If there’s one thing no one can fault me, it’s that I’m extremely loyal and extremely good at whatever work I do (we’re not talking schoolwork here, people– just go with it.)  I know that hospital like the back of my hand, am oddly protective of our psych patients, have clocked more hours there in the past two and half years of my life than I have in class.  My job was not a bed of roses– often it was mundane, boring, tedious, pain-in-the-ass busy work– but it was my job and I was damn good at it.

Enter my two co-workers, K & D, full-timers, moms just a few years younger than my own.  We weren’t super close when I first started, I was just another student who would scan charts for a couple months then find something better.  But then they realized I wasn’t going anywhere.  And together we weathered break-ups, divorces, their sick kids, my hangovers, perhaps their hangovers, deaths in the family, shared inside jokes to make the horrid time at the hospital just a little more bearable.  They were the surrogate moms who would Tsk Tsk when I came in with bar stamps on my hand on weekdays but then give me Tylenol, ask “Where are your gloves?!” when I showed up half-frozen, and made THE BEST peanut butter Cap’n Crunch cereal bars and cream cheese salsa dip for office parties or just because. Today, when I walked in and saw them, I was like “Holyfuck this is gonna suck.”

And it did.  Everyone brought in a bunch of food (the sugar coma definitely eased the pain of the good-bye) and I got some cards and I made K & D cards and my boss cried and gave me some presents.  But then 4:00 came (okay, 3:52– I always skip out a bit early to catch the bus) and I was like Well, catch you on the flip side and IDIDNTCRY but almost did.  On the inside, folks.  Brittney cried on the inside.

So technically, I am currently unemployed.  Way to be even more of a bum than I already am… AND, save for one final next week, my semester is O-V-E-R.  It went supercalifragilistically fast.  Let’s not talk about what comes after this one.  If it was this hard to say Peace Out to two ladies I see a couple hours a day, I don’t even wanna think about when I have to do it to NPH or my pops.  (Ooooh, Brittney’s being all serious– weird.  Usually this is supposed to be funny.  Now I’m just uncomfortable.)

In other news, Miley Cyrus got her Grammy nominations revoked today.  I am beyond pissed.  “Party in the USA” is an goddamn lyrical masterpiece and YOU KNOW IT.

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.