Everything in London is well post brief but needed disappearance to Denmark. After more UK units of alcohol than I care to count, Kelsi and I missed our bus (twice, almost three times), missed our train by an hour and 20 minutes, and still got to Gatwick with time for breakfast. Baller, I know. No matter if we spent the entire bus ride fantasizing about bagging the whole operation, or if it took me five minutes to figure out how to get a Gatorade out of the vending machine on the National Express platform, we arrived in Copenhagen with no means of communication and a massive combined hangover. Clearly ready to take over the world.
Luckily, pay phones are a worldwide lifesaver, and we were able to find Andrea and make our way to the center of the city. Being the Ohioan that I am, I frolicked in the snow the entire five days we were there and basically rejoiced at my brief return to the winter I'm missing back in the States. Copenhagen--like the rest of Denmark--is extremely tiny, so Andrea was able to show us most of the city center before taking us back to her apartment in Norrebro. Despite the fact that Norrebro is supposed to be the sketchiest neighborhood in Copenhagen (if you've been to Denmark, you'll understand how funny that sentence is in the first place), it--like Andrea--is absolutely lovely. In short, we played house all weekend and cooked amazing food and sat around under blankets while drinking like Scandinavians to keep warm.
Highlights include: A hippie commune in the middle of Copenhagen where everyone legally buys weed and stands around trash can fires and is happy. Attempting (successfully) homemade gnocchi and trying to grasp the concept of hygge...also with great success :) Olympic curling stance. I'll leave that one at that. Walking across frozen lakes in the snow at 2 a.m., once the right way, and once narrowly escaping a Danish disaster. Noticing that Danish boys act like they're at a middle school dance when they're out at clubs; they stand behind you for like ten minutes before they even dare to touch you. And they go out in their ski jackets. Making it home much more easily than we got there, but mostly realizing that you can be really fucking stupid and still get around the world, and have a jolly good time at that.
Tryk = push, Traek = pull...and they sound exactly the same.
xxx
Friday 26 February 2010
Tuesday 16 February 2010
Fail
It's really hard to blog, especially when you have nothing to do. For instance, the only reason I'm writing this right now is that I'm supposed to be finishing (read: starting) a 2,500 word essay before I leave for Denmark on Thursday morning. Oops. So instead of pretending I actually know what happened during the Falklands War--my knowledge of which stops about 37 minutes into This is England and picks up again at 'Margaret Thatcher was proper shit'--I'm attempting to summarize the last 2.5 weeks of my life.
Lessons of the month:
1) While you're getting ginned, it's way harder than it looks to know when to drink. Thank Jesus for the fact that (though they'll deny it) '4 shots' in Britain are an alcoholic American 2. Nobody else thinks it's depressing to get older.
2) NEVER attempt new slang when drunk and tired -- you'll end up announcing to someone of the opposite sex that you "don't wear knickers". Knickers are NOT the same thing as trousers.
3) There is no right time for someone else to enter a conversation about oral fixations. Ever.
4) I will never live down 85% of the things I say in public.
5) I've said this before, but British people are RACIST. Like, scary racist. At 5 a.m. on the night bus a few weeks ago, this chavvy white woman literally physically assaulted some guy who wouldn't turn his music down 2 seats behind Amanda and me. When other people on the bus got involved, it only took a predictable 1-2 seconds for the 'go back to your country' comments to start flying. Ew. Stupid people piss me off at home, but somehow the smart accent makes Brits wear it even worse than we do.
6) Man panties are 1.50 at Primark, appear to only come in varying combinations of pink, and are the best pajamas of all time when you don't want to do your laundry.
7) British people don't understand the concept of iced coffee...it even sucks at Starbucks.
8) Double strength juice.
9) Nobody here checks their e-mail, which I love. I despise uptight, e-mail obsessed Americans. There's no way you're important enough at age 20 to check your e-mail more than once a day. Have a signature at the end of your e-mail in university? You're probably a douchebag.
10) There are some things that are the same everywhere, namely: vending machines, awkward conversations on public transportation, bitchy TAs, token inappropriate, offensive conservative kids in lecture (usually obsessed with the military, short-haired and unfortunately competent at borderline racial slurs in academic discussion), and chocolate.
11) It's probably always raining in London, even if it's sunny. If you think it's sunny, you're wrong...or at least you will be within the next 15 minutes.
Alas, poor Fanny.
xxx
Lessons of the month:
1) While you're getting ginned, it's way harder than it looks to know when to drink. Thank Jesus for the fact that (though they'll deny it) '4 shots' in Britain are an alcoholic American 2. Nobody else thinks it's depressing to get older.
2) NEVER attempt new slang when drunk and tired -- you'll end up announcing to someone of the opposite sex that you "don't wear knickers". Knickers are NOT the same thing as trousers.
3) There is no right time for someone else to enter a conversation about oral fixations. Ever.
4) I will never live down 85% of the things I say in public.
5) I've said this before, but British people are RACIST. Like, scary racist. At 5 a.m. on the night bus a few weeks ago, this chavvy white woman literally physically assaulted some guy who wouldn't turn his music down 2 seats behind Amanda and me. When other people on the bus got involved, it only took a predictable 1-2 seconds for the 'go back to your country' comments to start flying. Ew. Stupid people piss me off at home, but somehow the smart accent makes Brits wear it even worse than we do.
6) Man panties are 1.50 at Primark, appear to only come in varying combinations of pink, and are the best pajamas of all time when you don't want to do your laundry.
7) British people don't understand the concept of iced coffee...it even sucks at Starbucks.
8) Double strength juice.
9) Nobody here checks their e-mail, which I love. I despise uptight, e-mail obsessed Americans. There's no way you're important enough at age 20 to check your e-mail more than once a day. Have a signature at the end of your e-mail in university? You're probably a douchebag.
10) There are some things that are the same everywhere, namely: vending machines, awkward conversations on public transportation, bitchy TAs, token inappropriate, offensive conservative kids in lecture (usually obsessed with the military, short-haired and unfortunately competent at borderline racial slurs in academic discussion), and chocolate.
11) It's probably always raining in London, even if it's sunny. If you think it's sunny, you're wrong...or at least you will be within the next 15 minutes.
Alas, poor Fanny.
xxx
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