While the growing pains of going back to class are slowly working themselves out, it is safe to say I am psyched for the next chapter of my life. The job hunt part, the getting back to the office and have meetings and a desk and getting satisfaction from my work part, heck– even the “I’m so busy/stressed/overwhelmed I could puke part,” because it means I’m doing something. During my internship and even sometimes just jobs as a student, the signs of a budding workaholic have started to emerge. (Somehow this has never, ever translated into being a study-aholic. Huh.) Over the summer on my weekends off, I’d be up early on a Sunday at 713, writing cover letters, sending emails, doing research for our events at work. (Can I say where I worked yet? I think I can, it’s over with. It was a zoo. No, an actual zoo.) I’ve officially had five days of class this semester and already had two job/internship interviews, got one of them (the other was literally like 45 minutes ago, keep your fingers crossed) and have taken on at least two other side, unpaid projects that relate to my major because I want RESUME EXPERIENCE, DAMMIT. And because these things keep me much more personally fulfilled than relearning the functions of a subject and direct and indirect objects like we’ve been doing in my Languages of the World class. Sorry, lady– you’re very nice, but far too old to still be teaching, plus I learned that “cat” is a noun like twelve years ago. Another emerging theme of this semester seems to be the whole “I went abroad, now what?” thing, though it’s gotten better than me looking for flights to Munich during all free time with my laptop (that time is now reserved for looking for post-graduation PR jobs in Boston, duh.) I’m a Global Buddy for the Study Abroad office, and we have a returnee reunion this afternoon for all of us post-foreign study kids to get together and commiserate over why the hell America has such stringent open container laws. Finally, in other WAY more exciting news– this weekend is the kick-off of what is sure to be the Iowa Hawkeyes’ greatest football season to date. The only thing that trumps my excitement for tailgating this weekend is that the Iowa vs. Iowa State game is next weekend already. And the only thing that possibly trumps my excitement for that is that the movie The Town comes out not even a week after that and it’s set in Boston and is by the same people as The Departed and you can bet NPH and I will demand Coral Ridge Mall has a midnight showing for it.

I’m up weirdly early on a Sunday, filled with anticipation for picking up the keys to my NEW APARTMENT in a few hours. I haven’t actually seen the place– I trust Lauren and Rachael’s judgment (ooh new people to blog about)– and am itching to have my own kitchen, bed, whatever-as-long-as-it’s-not-713 in Iowa City again. Forget that I was just in Vegas less than two months ago when I tell you this, but I wanna go somewhere. Perhaps Colorado to visit D-Bag, or the Caribbean, or Vermont. That last one was only because I’ve never been there, but I imagine it’s nice. Class starts in three weeks, I am quite ambivalent about this, though the mighty job/ internship hunt is ON for the school year. A little part of me dies each time I see NO next to “Is this a paid internship?” on the UI’s Employment Expo (best. invention. ever.) but I’ve accepted that I will probably have to have a paying job not related to my major and then an unpaid internship on the side. And if this all could not take up any time on Saturdays during the months of September and October, that would be ideal; we’ve got some mighty tailgating plans this year. Oh, I ran almost eight miles yesterday. Pretty freakin’ ecstatic with myself. I’m hoping everyone else is town is too hungover to move in right away as I plan on doing– parents in IC, illegal parking, unloading heavy furniture, spider webs in my storage unit all give me unnecessary anxiety. I’m wearing a lovely pair of jorts for the move, be jealous.

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

Sorry, Monday– I discounted you from the start this morning.  After a night of poor sleep thanks to weird dreams (starring Gisele, Tom Brady, and a former high school lust) I woke up demanding caffeine and cursing my scheduled eight hours of desk work.  Somewhere along the way, Monday quietly surprised me with an uncannily productive work ethic AND energy to go for a run a little after 5:00.  –Note to self, the sun is still far from setting at this time.  Humidity is still rocking well about 50%, recent thunderstorms make gravel more like sand to run on, and you will end up getting rocks into your shoe only a mile in.  While I commend you on lacing up them sneaks and getting out there, next time perhaps some pre-planning will go into it.  Baby steps.

A note on my job: IT IS AWESOME.  Some of the events involved in my internship are, wait for it… weddings. !!!!  I get to help plan weddings, attend weddings, research weddings, market our weddings, le sigh.  Before you get your panties in a wad, let me be perfectly clear that I under no circumstance, perfect proposal, threat, insanity, or death bed-side wish am anywhere near getting married AT ALL.  Gross.  Barf.  Throat tightening at the mere thought of lifetime commitment.  I’m still quite a young’in and I have quite a prepared speech about how STUPID it is to get married before you have established your own life.  But that’s for another time.  Luckily NPH realizes that my wedding-centered brain is part of my job, an outlet to entertain my inner girly-girl while my practical side knows that many years from now I’ll be celebrating my nuptials at the Hofbrauhaus in Vegas (honeymoon in Munich to follow.) Speaking of my fabulous place of employment, I have this Saturday off and GUESS who’s coming to town?  The nowhere-near-fiance-so-please-stop-asking-even-if-it-is-a-joke boyfriend.  While I’m sure we’d have an uproariously entertaining time just hanging out with the folks, we’re going someplace even better: ADVENTURELAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Famous Dave’s at some point, but I’m not sure you can handle all of this exciting news in one post. The weekend after that is the Fourth of July (whaaaaat?!) and I hope upon hope my schedule will allow a trip to Chicago/ Milwaukee for Summerfest because apparently people wanna meet me.  NPH’s people.  I’m such a gem, I suppose I really can’t blame them.

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

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

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.

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.

For the time time in 20 years, I found my inner Zen at around 4 pm today.  Tomorrow will come whether my paper reaches five pages or not, whether I keep rambling about Nazis in it or not (I am sadly not kidding– somehow my Legal & Ethical Issues in Mass Communication term paper has turned into a diatribe about the undercurrent of raw emotions that surely must exist in present day Germany because of the Holocaust.  I am so not getting a decent grade.)  It will come whether I know what the O’Brien Test is (I don’t) or whether or not hidden cameras are legal in Iowa (they are… I think.)

There is a french silk pie chilling in the refrigerator, courtesy of my awesomeness, that will be devoured at a very 713/529 Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow night.  Bestie’s making the turkey and said we probably won’t eat until almost 10 pm anyway, so I can go see Adam Richman AND have an awesome time recreating the slaughter of thousands of Native Americans by greedy white people first Thanksgiving.  And then get really drunk only to wake up really early possibly still intoxicated to travel two hours down the interstate in time for an oil change at 10 am.  Gotta love the end of midterms week.

Today I am thankful for my boss.  What?  But, Brittney, you loathe your job to the very core!  Well yes, but that’s because it’s inane busy work spent in front of a computer when I could be sleeping or eating or doing really anything besides wearing business casual clothes to class when all of my peers get to wear sweatpants.  I’m super pscyhed because I’m not working AT ALL next week.  Weeeee-hoooo!!  I invision a lot of lounging and eating and sleeping and sweatpants-wearing in my future.  Happy Turkey Day to me!

Also, I hate Murphy’s Law.  While on a given day I’m usually rockin’ an attractiveness rating of a good four or five points higher than your average college student, today was an exception.  I looked like the Elephant Man.  I consciously went into public full-on knowing this, thinking I wouldn’t encounter anyone whose opinion really mattered.  Boy was I wrong.  And I paid for it in ten minutes of super self-conscious conversation, followed by a complete melodramatic over-analytic meltdown about said meeting. 

This is when having a female best friend and a male best friend really comes in handy.  While both of them were supportive and assured me that  they have both seen me look like this elusive Elephantitis creature and they’re still talking to me, their follow-up approaches to talking me down from the ledge were varied.  Kayla lied to me and told me what I wanted to hear.  Apparently other Bestie is a walking copy of He’s Just Not That Into You and told me what was up, straight up no chaser.  I am now fake mad at him for doing this.  CLEARLY he does not understand girl logic, as I told him, and he replied with, “Nope, because it’s not logic.”

Anyway (hey, Natalie!) I’m gonna go do one of the million other things on my to-do list that you would think I’d have done by now, but you would be wrong.  I have to like, plan our end of the year social?  For PRSSA?  And talk on the phone to strangers to get estimates on how much banquet service will cost ?  Barrrrrrffffff, I HATE talking to strangers on the phone.  Perhaps there was some incident in my youth regarding rejection via landline that I’ve repressed but still scars my subconscious.  Whatever the case, NOT. Looking. Forward to it.

Sports Illustrated cover + parents’ weekend + Ashton Kutcher in attendance + Northwestern = inevitable loss.  All season people kept saying “When we lose it will be to someone like  Northwestern” and then their friends around them would explode into a fit of giggles because the 9-0, 4th ranked Hawkeyes are just so much better than that.  Except everyone, including us, knew we weren’t.  As someone from my immediate family who was not my mother or brother texted me after “Thank God that’s over.”   I’d have to agree– we had a nice run, but OMFGSHUTUPPPPPPPP.  And now they will.

Last night was my final shift at my beloved job, at least til I return from abroad.  My boss and I decided I’m the Stanzi of the store, with me being out for the season and all.  I also was complaining that my leg was broken hurt  a lot because my back was hella messed up from some awkward couch-sleeping followed by miles of trekking to tailgating before 7 am.  In flip-flops.  All night I was having quite the mental struggle over what my final free sandwich for a while would be.  In the end, I got my favoritest favorite– I can make a ham sandwich at home anyday, but the world does not get any better than  black bean patty with avacado, BBQ sauce, some hummus, some other stuff that’s SUPERDELICIOUSINMYMOUTH.

If it rains this month, I will fah-REAK out because it will be November Rain.

Today I have to like, vacuum my living room and dust the TV and get things all ready for our PRSSA social.  I may even put out a plate of cheese and crackers.  Step aside, people– domestic goddess coming through.

Bestie’s parents came yesterday and his mother brought the best pumpkin bread in the history of the world.  You think I’m exaggerating here, but nay. It had raisins and walnuts in it (don’t barf, it was sophisticated quick bread).  Unfortunately the pan was set between college boys wielding a knife– I fear that one slice will be my only experience with that magical, magical treat.

This was my last weekend in Iowa City until the last weekend in November, and I am beyond ok with that.