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.

The neti pot is beginning to fail me, thus it’s time to pull out the big guns.  Mainly, 21st century medication in all forms– Mucinex, some kick-ass nasal spray stuff (this whole process has taught me I have zero problem with putting things in my nose) and some HyVee brand cold medication and cough drops that it took us way too long to decide on late Thursday night.  (After watching me go up and down the aisle multiple times, Neil: “You know, you don’t have to have ALL the symptoms listed on the box.”  and “Contrary to your apparent beliefs, Brittney, I haven’t actually taste-tested all of the throat losenges in the greater Iowa City/Coralville area.  Just. PICK ONE.” 

SO LAST NIGHT… PRSSA ugly sweater bar crawl.  I’d like to think it was a success, mostly because I planned it, but also because with the amount of bone-crushing hugs from everyone– the ones brought on by either severe inebriation or extreme adoration– it seems others enjoyed themselves as well.  Example: I was lifted in the air twice.  Previous to last night, I would have bet money on that being a feat most of my friends could not undertake.  Well, now that I think about it, neither of them are actually in PRSSA and in fact are two of my favorite people from the 713 pool.  But I digress.

I looked bomb diggity and so did Natalie (she and I thought that tights under shorts were a good option, she wore two pairs and I wore longjohns under mine) and really everyone else did as well.  NPH came to the pizza place where we started and got to meet everyone, his own personal legion of adoring fans.  He and Natalie got on famously, she specifically asked that I mention them in my blog and how much she ”LOVES NPH” and he is “SO AWESOME” and ”GOOD JOB PICKING YOUR BEST FRIEND.”  Uh, thank you.

Natalie, me, NPH

Anyway, luckily my apartment is in freak proximity to downtown so I was able to go home and put on jeans without missing much.  The tights plus the snow on the ground really weren’t a great combo.  From there the night was a blur of red and green sweater vests, super flattering pictures, my partner in crime Lauren joining us, Natalie befriending a bartender and essentially getting a gallon of vodka Sprite for $3, perhaps a Pancheros stop, and some flailing about that we tried to pass off as dancing to “Bad Romance” with a German.  THAT’S RIGHT, folks.  Apparently the towering presence of Aryan perfection on the crawl the entire night is actually straight off the boat German, methinks visiting or studying here for a bit.  I was not informed of this until five minutes before we called it a night, but I took solace in the fact that if his fellow countrymen even look half as good as that one, next semester will be a fun time indeed.

Speaking of studying abroad, I talked to a few PRSSAers who have done it (Italy & Spain) and realized I will probably be traveling a lot more in Europe than had originally planned.  I will definitely not have class five days a week, perhaps only two or three (it’s 17 credit hours though) and they both assured me that I’ll want to stick around after my program ends to do more.  One girl’s parents gave her three extra weeks to backpack, and she told me about the super cheap airline over there where you can hop on a plane and go to a new country for like 10 Euro.

And speaking of abroad, days like yesterday when Amanda Knox was found guilty in Italy are days I am extra thankful to live in America.  I don’t think she did it.  Perhaps that’s just the American media poisoning my mind, but she didn’t.

Am I supposed to take shampoo & conditioner to Germany or buy it when I’m over there.  SO MANY LITTLE CONUNDRUMS!! I got my housing assignment and boy howdy am I excited.  I’ll be in dorm-style living (own room, but sharing a kitchen/living room/bathroom… I think, I actually just made up the majority of that information) with… drumroll please… 3 males and another female.  *Cue angels singing.  On my housing information sheet, I let the peeps over in Germany aware of my penchant for getting along with guys better.  My mother says this will be excellent practice for hopefully living in 713 next year.  My father did not have much to say, except to bring me back to reality when I was SUPER PSYCHED about the super low cost of rent.  “Wow, four months to live there will cost about what I pay for only two months rent in the States!”  He then kindly pointed out that the lower sum was in Euros.  Drat.

Neil’s happy ass is speeding (correction: driving at exactly the speed limit) down I-80 towards central Iowa as we speak.  He could probably get here much earlier, but for some reason drives as if he already has his AARP card. 

T-Bone has spent the morning putting up MORE Christmas shit decorations, stringing lights on the tree, that sorta thing.  We watched the Biggest Loser: Where are they Now special which made me feel only slightly more like a beached whale than I already did after this week of holiday indulgences. 

I toats-mcgoats forgot that Friday is our PRSSA downtown social (read: bar crawl) which is kind of my job to plan.  We decided to forgo (forego?  Google says it can be either) bar crawl shirts and instead will be wearing ugly holiday sweaters.  Thankfully if there’s one thing my house has plenty of, it’s hideous holiday wear.  Now to plan the list of establishments to patron, which will really only hold up for maybe the first three bars.  After that everyone either stays or goes to their favorite place, goes home pissed off and sober, goes home pissed off and drunk, finds a hook-up for the night and abandons the crawl, gets a hankering for Mesa pizza and abandons the crawl, or gets arrested.  Not all, though some of these, have happened to me in the past.  I have never successfully been on a bar crawl start to finish.  Friday will guaranteed be no exception. 

Oh, and by the by, I MISS THE SHIT OUTTA MY IOWA CITY FRIENDS.  We have been apart for eight days.  Take that times about 15 (a conservative estimate of how many days we will be apart spring semester) and you have one extremely sad Brittney.  You know that saying, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger?  BS.  I heard an alternate saying a few years ago: what doesn’t kill you makes you want to die.  I’ve always preferred that one.  While not exactly applicable in this situation, it melodramatically spotlights how I will be feeling.

Now I must leave you to go “take inventory” of the amount of alcohol we have in the basement and see if we need to go buy more before the classy family BBQ tonight.  I feel a trip to the store is in order.

Dad just asked why exactly I’m going abroad again.  “You won’t be able to see this face for five months!”  Well, it’s more like four…  My impending exit is on many people’s brains lately– when I go back to Iowa City I will have THREE WEEKS to find a subleaser, pack my apartment, finish classes, take a final, and say peace out to those I love most.  So you know, piece o’ cake. 

Barring natural disaster or terrorist attack, Bestie will for sure be having the sheer privilege of visiting on Saturday.  He and Lauren are the two people I will miss most in Iowa City.  She will be in my wedding, one of those classy bitches I can see being in my twenties with, swirling martinis and complaining about the lack of men in our lives whilst lamenting the size of our upper arms. 

My mother has officially turned into her mother.  Christmas vomit has covered every inch of our house, including the bathroom off the kitchen where a patriotic Santa the size of a toddler is just hanging out next to the shower and it scares the BEJEEZUS out of me everytime I go to relieve myself.  Neither of the trees are up yet and I plan on not being in or near the house when it gets to be that time.  I’ve seriously contemplated converting to Judaism because I am so that person who has a tree up 365 because I’m too gd lazy to take the thing down.  I feel that eight pronged candelabra thingy would be much easier to stuff in a closet.

Two days til Thanksgiving which means today I’m thankful for heat.  This elusive element is something I’ve heard other houses have, but apparently we haven’t caught on yet around here.  Supposedly there’s one of those fabled “heaters” in the basement, but it must be broken or something.  I mean, why else would could we hang meat in the living room like it were an effin’ butcher shop?  I think I’ve experienced this feeling called “warm” sometime during the summer, but my brain is half-frozen so it’s hard to remember.  Perhaps Grandma’s house will be liveable without socks, longjohns, and a down parka.

Congratulations, you’ve been awarded a study abroad scholarship!  What a sweet way to start my day.  It’s not like I’m getting handed thousands of dollars to learn how to sprechen, but my program is throwing a couple Benjamins my way to lighten the load that feels pretty heavy given my penchant for going downtown every chance I get often.

T-Bone’s playing arts and crafts time in the kitchen currently, glueing some shit to a giant map of the world for some fundraiser for church.  If she’d like to move said map out of the way of the pantry, I could eat lunch, mmmkay?  Thanks.  Christmas carols are also wafting from the living room (Norman Rockwell ain’t got nothin’ on this family.) 

Later I will be baby-sitting my neighbor boys who I haven’t seen in eons.  They’ll probably be taller than me and think I’m the lamest person on earth, but whatever.  I changed them diapers once upon a time, ya hearrrd?  The worst part is, at least the older one has definitely learned how to tell time, so I can’t pull the old “OMG IT’S SO LATE, time for bed!” when the sun has barely set.  Yep, I was definitely that baby-sitter.  Should God have a lapse in judgment and have me bear kiddies, I will most certainly be that mother as well.

Ick, it’s basketball season.  I pure straight hate basketball. 

AND NOW KIDDOS, democracy in action.  Or at least an awesome example of where some very public bitching will get you: the hospital is canceling it’s dumb dumb dumb program to solicit donations from patients.  As avid, loyal readers of this, my dear blog baby, you are all well aware that I was not exactly a fan of the proposed plan.  I’m sure my well-thought, eloquent, and completely level-headed opinions against it were weighed heavily by the geniuses behind it.  HA.

It rained, meaning the outside of my car is clean, so I DETAILED the inside as well.  I hadn’t so much as vacuumed it since April.  There was still a bunch of grass and straw on the floor from when I mud-wrestled at VEISHEA (ohhhh boy, if I had only been blogging then!)  It also smells like cupcakes because I put in a brand spankin’ new air freshener.  So basically, I’ve been more productive today than I’ve been all week.  Go me!

I’m off to go make pie crust for the mother (she’s what one would call Pie Crus’tarded, and yes, that’s a real word.)  She’s going to make three pumpkin pies, for like, other people.  Pffffffffff.  What is this, the season of charity?!  Oh speaking of, I feel SO GUILTY when I go by those Salvation Army bell-ringers.  So I guess today I’m thankful for, you know, the stuff everyone’s usually thankful for.  Warm house/apartment, family, money, food, friends, real Charlie Brown-type stuff.  Oh, and the fact that KAYLA AND SAVANNAH are coming tonight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  See Mom, I do have female friends.

This will be super quick because I have about two of my five page term paper done and that’s just not enough yet.  Though it was recently brought to my attention that this paper is 8% of our grade where as our midterm (also on Thursday, THANKS FOR THAT, Dr. Eko) is 30% of our final grade.  Less BS-ing about the differences between Article 5 of the Grundgesetz and the First Amendment and more memorizing the over 100 legal cases that will be on the test.

Do you know how I sit?  Like a boy.  This is not new, but I feel the people walking by are like Girrrrl, close them legs.  I do it completely unconsciously, it’s just comfortable to sit like I’m straddling a horse (oh God, this really is not sounding as I meant it to).  I’m am the opposite of a leg-crosser.  My 713′ers used to point it out when were still new in our relationship, just like I used to point out when their right hands would all be gratuitously be hanging out in their pants when watching TV.  It’s a comfort thing, not an advertisement thing.  Shame on you for your mind going there.

I am conflicted.  As you know, Thursday night I have a ticket to see Man vs. Food guy.  Alone.  That part doesn’t really bother me.  What does bother me is that I am IMPULSIVE and was all, of course I want to buy this ticket!  Without thinking about how it’s at the end of this hell week, when the last thing I’ll want to be doing is sitting in an auditorium alone listening to this guy talk about how much he can eat.  I have been invited to a lovely college-kids-trying-to-be-grown-up Thanksgiving that I’d prefer to go to, but alas I have this non-refundable ticket.  I am trying to re-sell it via Twitter.  If you, dear blog reader, are reading this and are all HEY!  I’ll take it!– you just let me know.

Oh!  Before I go back to my RIVETING paper (that is on a topic that wasn’t actually approved so really, I could just be writing for myself here and get a big fat “F” on it for that reason alone) I have to tell you what I’m thankful for.  Since I said one parent earlier this week, it’s only fair if today I’m thankful for… my dad.  I’d be thankful for him even if I wasn’t trying to keep things even– Papa K’s the bomb.  He’s scheduling our cruise excursions around our inevitable New Year’s hangovers, AND he always refills the kettle corn when we go to movies even though I ALWAYS finish at the exact point when the movie’s about to start.  That’s the definition of a stand-up guy.  We won’t even get into who I will miss most when I go to Germany (hint: it’s him)– I’m sure some sort of drunken home-from-the-bars post will come about sometime later and I’ll  be all GAAAHHH I’ve never been away from him (or really anyway) for four months, how will I survive.  And I just know how much you are all looking forward to that.

It will be a miracle if I make it through this week.

If you put up entire Facebook albums of your cats, I judge you.

Thanksgiving 1 of 3 was a success.  Lots of food.  My french silk pie was bomb-diggity.

I had my first dream last night about leaving for Germany– I was saying good-bye to my friends and sobbing.  Excellent.  Let’s hope the actual parting of ways will be much less of a shitshow. 

There is something in my contact.  It has been there all day.  I hope it’s not a hair like last time.  There was an actual HAIR from my HEAD in my EYE.  When I finally discovered what it was and pulled it out and showed it to a lady at work she was all “Ewwww” and I was all “This is the coolest thing everrrrr.” 

The guy from Man vs. Food, Adam Richman, is coming to town on Thursday to, I don’t know, talk about himself and food I guess.  I have a ticket though I’m not sure that I want to go.  I don’t know anyone else going.  And if he’s not eating then… whatever.  We’ll see if I even make it to Thursday.

The good news of going home is that Mom gave me a loaf of bread.  Our apartment already houses a toaster, and now I have bread?  I think you know what this means.  Saturday morning’s toast fail will be long forgotten tomorrow morning. 

Have you heard the new duet by Boys Like Girls and Taylor Swift, “Two Is Better Than One”?  BLLLEEEECCCHHH.  Yes, cruel world, I realize two is better than one.  What if you can’t have two though?  What if you are destined to only be one forever?  I mean, I sooooo enjoyed no less than four relatives today asking if I was dating anyone, how my “love life” is, and then one going, “So really?  No love life?”  Yep.  None.  Zero. Dead in the water.  Complete asexual– THAT’S ME.  Or perhaps– and follow me on this, I realize it’s a far stretch– I’m a junior in college and not actually looking to put on a ring on it anytime soon.  WOAH-UH.  I know, your mind was just blown. 

Bestie told me the other day that I had “spunk”.  So today I am thankful for… my spunk.  You probably don’t have spunk like I do.  That’s okay– I’ve been working on mine for awhile.  Maybe I was born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline.

Roomie would like you to know that “Brady and Moss together are ridiculous.”  Which means good.  She is from that Satan place Massachusetts and thus is a “Pats” fan (that means Patriots).  Tom Brady isn’t exactly hard to look at.  Hehe.  Hard.

Happy Veteran’s Day!  All the banks in town were closed, yet we hospital workers still had to show up.  Huh.

As if four months in Germany wasn’t enough to look forward to (if you’re bored, sometime count how many times I’ve talked about studying abroad in the last two months.  Get a life, Brittney) my family and I will be setting sail on a CRUISE to the Cayman Islands for the new year.  As in, get back home January 4th, fly to Europe January 6th.  I like to stay on my toes, people. 

Some people on Facebook are making their statuses one thing they’re thankful for from now until Thanksgiving.  Since I save my Facebook statuses for stuff that really matters (i.e. GUESS WHAT BITCHES, I’M GOING ON A CRUISE! … okay, it wasn’t exactly like that) perhaps I’ll do it here. 

Today, drumroll please, Brittney is thankful for Caffeine.  Is that lame?  Well, it’s the truth.  That’s been the overlying theme of this lifetime week.  Sometimes people see me bleary-eyed, straight outta bed, puffy eyes/face/snotty-nose, heading to work, and they stare.  Little children scream.  Boys I know on the bus tell me I look tired.  Thank you, young sir, I really thought I look simply as ravishing as I feel at SEVEN-THIRTY IN THE MORNING.

My boss announced at our staff meeting today my LAST DAY AT WORK!!!  December 10th.  I have so many fun countdowns going on right now. 

My best friend Kayla (is it okay that I finally used your name?  I feel the entire blogosphere knew anyway) wants me to tell the world what I once said were my two most hated things in the world: beer pong and the elderly. 

Off to our last PRSSA house meeting of the year.  And then to the Vine with my main IC bitch Lauren.  And I feel a freakish amount of other people I know will also end up there because the Vine is like our place, mannnn.  (I recently saw Fast Times at Ridgement High for the first time, I sincerely apologize.)

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

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

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

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

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

Do you know what I have done?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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