25 hours til I’ll be heading toward the airport for DC, and I’ve got lots on my plate. Between both jobs, some assignments due while I’m away or immediately upon my return, and an under the weather Fergs, to say I’m a bit stressed is an understatement. Obviously instead of tackling any of these head on, I’m blogging instead
Last night I finally made it to Target to professionalize my wardrobe, which I’m happy to report was a giant success. Thankfully I didn’t get too distracted by their ridiculous line-up of sweaters (gift card, anyone?) and I even sniffed out a $14.99 pencil skirt. I also found a desperately needed new pair of jeans, though as I’m wearing them they’re proving to be a bit too big. My favorite pair is from Germany, and sadly I don’t see myself returning anytime soon to stock up. (Oooh, that’s where we can go over Thanksgiving Break, Dad.)
Now if you excuse me, I need to go rip my hair literally out of my scalp over something for work. Not sure if I’ll be able to blog from DC– I should really get a smart phone– but expect a full-ish recap of the exciting, non-conferency stuff upon my return.

Whenever my roommates work out and I don’t, I want to murder them. Being an insecure young twenty-something sucks.

I’m currently watching the Des Moines episode of Man vs. Food. Now I just want to fly to Vegas and have a hungover reuben with my dearest Neil from Canter’s Deli in Treasure Island. Only like… six more months til that will be reality once again.

Networkingnetworkingnetworkingnetworking It’s all about who you know. It’s been badgered into me for three years, and now I finally see that it’s sadly true. No matter how great my resume and smile and business suit, any job I’m going to get right outta college will be through connections. Does begging and pleading and pimping myself out to any and every person who knows someone who might want to start me on an awesome career path count as networking? It’s probably bed time.

I’ve never been an avid viewer of Discovery Channel specials or Animal Planet, but today I got my first real look at what I imagine those documentaries on life in the wild are all about. Our campus’ fall job and internship fair was held today, and I luckily made it out alive with only three major blows to the ego and a few flesh wounds I was able to lick silently in the corner of the Student Hospitality Suite (aka free water and brownies.) Perhaps we were being secretly filmed the whole time because really, the entire premise sounds like it’s ready for a C-list celebrity host and prime time slot on Bravo. Picture half a generation of Millenial students who were raised to think they could be anything only to be barraged with unemployment statistics for the past three years, give ‘em one semester before the real world, outfit them in their most uncomfortable, itchy attire “I haven’t been this dressed up since I was at my grandma’s funeral” (actual quote by Natalie) with little black binders full of freshly printed and bullshitted resumes, stuff ‘em in a sweltering ballroom full of potential employers and GO. As you may imagine, it’s not a pretty scene. Roommates turned on roommates. People you’ve shared classes with for four years were suddenly waiting at your back with a butcher knife should you deliver the better elevator pitch. The stench of hungry, angry desperation clung in the air while undergrads gnashed and clawed their way to recruiting tables… only to be told to apply online or that they simply had no use yet for students graduating in May. Welcome to the working world, seniors– do you like your first taste?
To be fair, there were at least two places I wouldn’t mind working at who also didn’t seem generally annoyed with my presence. One even asked for my resume (after I learned that shoving it in the face of the recruiter right after the introductory handshake was perhaps not the way to go…) Thankfully Natalie and I had entered the front lines together, thus were able to wrench ourselves from the trenches in semi-decent shape and remind each other We don’t need silly job fairs because we’re obviously more fabulous than everyone else and they will be seeking us out in due time. That was a lot of italics. And a lot of BS. But it sure does make me feel better.

It’s here. The week The Town comes out. Luckily, neither NPH or I have class on Fridays, and while I do have three meetings already scheduled for that morning, we should be able to make it to a matinee in time to view four more simultaneous screenings with ample discussion and squealing time in between. On my to-do list for tonight (because I cannot, not, NOT operate without everything written out in my planner which is chained to my hip at all times) is updating my resume. Somehow in the span of two weeks, nearly everything on it has become irrelevant. To say I’m stretched pretty thin is an understatement, but so far I seem to managing it pretty well (check in around Week 7 of the semester for the inevitable breakdown.) Don’t worry, my personal life has not yet taken a hit, and I in fact had a fabulous time watching us beat the Cyclowns– not like everyone in the state didn’t see that coming anyway. My apartment somehow became the hostel of choice for many of my visiting high school classmates, which was entertaining, stressful, and bizarre all at the same time. Oh, can we talk about the VMAs for a bit? Whatthedumptruck that was horrendous. Chelsea Handler was not even a smidgen of funny, Taylor Swift can’t sing live AND as Kathy Griffin later tweeted “For fuck’s sake, its not like Kanye raped you,” and I was even weary of Gaga and her damn broken record “Nobody liked me in high school” thing combined with the “It takes me 20 minutes to get on stage because I’m constantly trying to outdo my previous outrageous fashion choices.” And in the last bit of random updates for today (because that’s all this blog has become, at my least my grandparents are still reading) I really want a dog. No, Mom– not our dog. For some reason that relationship broke and I’ve moved on. Specifically I want a basset hound; I would tell you his name but you’d be jealous and steal it. I asked NPH if I was REALLY really good this semester and did my homework and cleaned my room and promised to clean up after it, would he PLEASE get me a dog and he said yes, but sadly I think he was joking. I wonder if he ever gets tired of dating a four-year-old.

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.