On Wednesday morning, I decided that this weekend is going to be a completely dry weekend. This might seem easy, but the plan is to not just stay in the entire weekend. I am going to attempt to do the normal Danish things on the weekend, like go to dance clubs, bars and try to have adventurous nights, while only putting food and water into my body. Some documentation:
The First Leg: Wednesday night. Stayed in, easy. I have to wake up at 7:30 on Thursdays.
The Second Leg: Thursday night. For dinner I made myself something that interacted with my stomach like new, virgin lovers. They flirted profusely for a little bit and then made nervous love until it was fully digested. First, I took some onions and tightly let them soak up milk in a plastic bag for thirty minutes. I then covered them in flour and then covered them in scrambled egg. I used enough egg that after frying them in olive oil, they were like little greasy omelettes, but almost in an onion ring sort of sense. After adding salt and fried peppers, I ate it all with some ketcup, remoulade (for the left over egg I fried) and some thousand island (for the peppers.) I ate with the Aussies and the Kiwis which is always a lesson in playful sarcasm and weird accents.
One of the Kiwis looks like Bret from Flight of the Concords so I asked him if people ever tell him he looks like Bret from Flight of the Concords and he said, "yes, all the time," which actually suprised me because I would assume that in New Zealand they would have higher standards for who does or doesn't resemble Bret, because as a whole their country probably looks more like him that what I am accustomed to.
After dinner, I went to the other communal kitchen and watched some Euchre and ate some of Laura's undercooked chocolate cake which was actually optimal because if you wanted more of a cake substance you could fork some from the outside or if you wanted more of a pudding/ brownie consistency, you could form some from the inside. Smart. We listened to some killer jams, including but not limited to "How Bizarre," by OMC, the rehearsal version of "D.A.N.C.E." by Justice, "The Impression that I Get," by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, and "Ball and Chain," by the White Stripes. After Jimmy, Travis and I went to Travis' room and said, okay, we're only going to watch this one youtube video and then watched all of the youtube vidoes and some tv show about future weapons. Stay tuned for the Third and Fourth installment of the Dry Weekend series.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Don't Call Me Whitney, Bobby
"Don't Call Me Whitney, Bobby," is a song by Islands, who we saw last night at Vega.
The night started with purchases of the cheapest baguettes, caviar, juice-boxed white wine, liverpaste kroner can buy. These items cost less than ten dollars combined. There was a condom perfectly laid out on the bus on the way to the concert.
I learned some lessons about decisions and mistakes. In describing the concert, I want to say, "the concert was amazing" or "incredible" or "absolutely outstanding" or "so fucking good," but I wonder how many times that phrase has been said. But it was. The concert was good to the fifth power. Yes, dude, I know how large exponentials expand. Yes, you do win a prize if you can tell me what that was a reference to.
We were in the front row the entire time, and I got some sick shots with my canon and they covered a Smiths song which made me think of Josh. After the show I was able to speak to the two front men as they tried to sell t-shirts. They told me eventually to move slightly aside so that people can see the shirts. I felt bad about that comment but I also felt bad for them having to sell t-shirts. Maybe they remembered me as the guy who kept shouting how much I wanted to touch the lead man's hair during a break in a song.
Today a few of us who didn't have field studies went to Malmo, Sweden. It was just like Kobenhavn, Denmark. Except a lot cheaper because the Swedish Krone is not doing as well as the Danish Krone.
This post is less than thrilling compared to how my past 24 hours were, I'm sorry. Here's to Thursdays.
The night started with purchases of the cheapest baguettes, caviar, juice-boxed white wine, liverpaste kroner can buy. These items cost less than ten dollars combined. There was a condom perfectly laid out on the bus on the way to the concert.
I learned some lessons about decisions and mistakes. In describing the concert, I want to say, "the concert was amazing" or "incredible" or "absolutely outstanding" or "so fucking good," but I wonder how many times that phrase has been said. But it was. The concert was good to the fifth power. Yes, dude, I know how large exponentials expand. Yes, you do win a prize if you can tell me what that was a reference to.
We were in the front row the entire time, and I got some sick shots with my canon and they covered a Smiths song which made me think of Josh. After the show I was able to speak to the two front men as they tried to sell t-shirts. They told me eventually to move slightly aside so that people can see the shirts. I felt bad about that comment but I also felt bad for them having to sell t-shirts. Maybe they remembered me as the guy who kept shouting how much I wanted to touch the lead man's hair during a break in a song.
Today a few of us who didn't have field studies went to Malmo, Sweden. It was just like Kobenhavn, Denmark. Except a lot cheaper because the Swedish Krone is not doing as well as the Danish Krone.
This post is less than thrilling compared to how my past 24 hours were, I'm sorry. Here's to Thursdays.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
That's Not My Pizza, Get Out
''That's not my pizza, get out,'' was my only interaction with a man I might like otherwise. He seemed like he had a hardened outer shell of a personality, but a nose to the grindstone type of guy I would end up liking, not unlike the seemingly surly Peruvian cook from South Street Pizzeria that really just wanted to learn good enough English to gain citizenship and cook good pizzas and be outwardly surly to the timid waitress and myself. The man (not surly Peruvian, the antagonist of my story) owned a sandwhich, pizza and salad shop next to Instanbul Pizza, where I got a 20 Kr. square folded pizza with mushrooms and meatballs among other things (they sell 13 Kr. plain slices however.) After bringing my slice into his establishment to eat with others, he was told by an employee of my action and came out from the back briskly and said that line; the line I will only know this man as for the rest of my life. Maybe he's actually a silly silly man who plays goofy pranks on people and then giggles like a 6th grade me, but maybe today his bike was stolen after finding out his wife is a closet lesbian who plans to move to Cyprus ''to dance.'' Or maybe he's just a prick.
Either way, I went back to the University to meet up with Roger, Peter and Sarah which turned out to be a pleasant lunch. Among other things, we discussed the pros and cons of getting our heroine at the Netto as opposed to Irma. Pros of Netto: cheaper heroine, can also purchase cheaper cereal, food goods. Pros of Irma: organic heroine, fair-trade heroine, can also purchase more granola-y cereal.
After lunch, Roger and myself scoped out the University m&m dispensers which are not connected to the ground, and are somewhat light, and have a plastic encasing for the m&m's. We also meticulously planned out purchasing a beaver. Roger will stand in front of me and the beaver. I will hold a lighter up to the plastic encasing of the m&m machine, creating a small hole. We will switch places and Roger will hold the beaver as it gnaws through the plastic using the small hole I created while I stand in front to block anyone. One of us, probably me but Roger can do it if he wants to that bad or asks me, will hold a bag and get the m&m's out of the machine.
I also might see Islands tonight (the band, not the landform (I immediately hate myself for writing that parenthetical but I have to do it for clarification (This one too) ) ) at Vega, a sweet dance club in Vesterbro. If I do go, hopefully it will only be the non-dairy whipped cream on an epic night disturbingly-moist pound cake. Cheers to you if you figured that sentence out.
Either way, I went back to the University to meet up with Roger, Peter and Sarah which turned out to be a pleasant lunch. Among other things, we discussed the pros and cons of getting our heroine at the Netto as opposed to Irma. Pros of Netto: cheaper heroine, can also purchase cheaper cereal, food goods. Pros of Irma: organic heroine, fair-trade heroine, can also purchase more granola-y cereal.
After lunch, Roger and myself scoped out the University m&m dispensers which are not connected to the ground, and are somewhat light, and have a plastic encasing for the m&m's. We also meticulously planned out purchasing a beaver. Roger will stand in front of me and the beaver. I will hold a lighter up to the plastic encasing of the m&m machine, creating a small hole. We will switch places and Roger will hold the beaver as it gnaws through the plastic using the small hole I created while I stand in front to block anyone. One of us, probably me but Roger can do it if he wants to that bad or asks me, will hold a bag and get the m&m's out of the machine.
I also might see Islands tonight (the band, not the landform (I immediately hate myself for writing that parenthetical but I have to do it for clarification (This one too) ) ) at Vega, a sweet dance club in Vesterbro. If I do go, hopefully it will only be the non-dairy whipped cream on an epic night disturbingly-moist pound cake. Cheers to you if you figured that sentence out.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Toothpaste, and Western Denmark
I just finished watching an online report on the A-rod steroids incident, and an interviewed man finished with, "once the toothpaste starts to come out, it's really tough to stop it." Terrible. There are so many problems with this. On the ground level, the fact that this analogy is wrong; once the toothpaste starts to come out, you can stop pressing and no more will come out. It's quite a viscous liquid, maybe even a solid (though admittedly probably a liquid.) Second of all, analogies like this that are used to end an interview in some sort of sly manner always hit me in places I don't want touched. Third of all, there is no way the guy made this comment up on the spot ==> he thought of this line, "once the toothpaste starts to come out, it's really tough to stop it," at a previous time, before the interview. You can see his face too, at first subtly stutter the first syllable, and then glide through it, clearly proud of himself. Terrible.
Last night I got back from a 3-day tour, with my Communications and Mass Media program, of Western Denmark, the second biggest cities, Aarhus and Odense (the birthplace and early stomping grounds of H.C. Andersen, Denmark's greatest contribution to the world.) We left early Thursday morning and saw "educational" sites such as The Danish School of Media and Journalism, a newspaper or two, and TV2, Denmark's largest TV station (where we saw a live news broadcast, which was pleasurable.) I got to see a Danish indie rock band who could play indie rock music better than me or you could (assuming my blog hasn't made it the screens of the Followill brothers/cousins yet (of Kings of Leon)), but they weren't good to listen to. We got relatively good sit-down food, I took way less pictures than I should have, and the highlight of the trip was definitely the basement floor of the ARoS Museum in Aarhus where we got a sneak peak tour of an interactive arts media show. A few of the pieces:
Also, one of the only hard alcohols you can find in Denmark but not most other places is called something like Fisherman's Friend. It's dark red and tastes more like Robitussin than I remember Robitussin tasting like. It's really something terrible. Oh and it's only 20% so you can enjoy more of it.
Last night I got back from a 3-day tour, with my Communications and Mass Media program, of Western Denmark, the second biggest cities, Aarhus and Odense (the birthplace and early stomping grounds of H.C. Andersen, Denmark's greatest contribution to the world.) We left early Thursday morning and saw "educational" sites such as The Danish School of Media and Journalism, a newspaper or two, and TV2, Denmark's largest TV station (where we saw a live news broadcast, which was pleasurable.) I got to see a Danish indie rock band who could play indie rock music better than me or you could (assuming my blog hasn't made it the screens of the Followill brothers/cousins yet (of Kings of Leon)), but they weren't good to listen to. We got relatively good sit-down food, I took way less pictures than I should have, and the highlight of the trip was definitely the basement floor of the ARoS Museum in Aarhus where we got a sneak peak tour of an interactive arts media show. A few of the pieces:
- A treadmill approximately 8 feet by 18 feet, on which you could ran as fast or slow as you want and it would keep you in the middle. In front of you was a cinema screen that showed you running through different scenarios based on how fast you were running. Depending on which sides of the treadmill you ran, the scene would change (spooky parking garage, forest, et cetera.)
- An old fashioned type writer, attached to a long sheet of paper and a projector, projecting onto the piece of paper. You could type anything, and then hit the create button, and the letters would be used as some sort of DNA to form a creature that would live on the piece of paper. Each sequence of letters produced a different creature, and you could create as many as you wanted. If you typed letters and did not hit the create button, your letters became food for the others. Evolution based.
- A handle, attached to a light bulb. It finds your pulse, puts it in the light bulb, and shows you where on the ceiling made of 300 lights of other people's pulses your pulse will be until 300 more people try it out.
- Two wheelchairs that spookily move around a blank room interacting with each other and you. They write you notes that drop on the floor. Spooky music also.
- A bed that interacts with you using human emotions with vibrations all over. When I went in, I felt as though the bed was telling me it was nervous.
- The homepage of the New York Times, from July 4th, 2009. It was good because it was humorous and well-written.
Also, one of the only hard alcohols you can find in Denmark but not most other places is called something like Fisherman's Friend. It's dark red and tastes more like Robitussin than I remember Robitussin tasting like. It's really something terrible. Oh and it's only 20% so you can enjoy more of it.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
And the award for the most redeeming quality for Keops Kollegium goes to...
The heated bathroom floors. While I would have preferred Keops to spend money on hallways, I am completely satisfied with my discovery of the heated bathroom floors. It's suspected that the reason we have heated floors is to evaporate shower water more quickly, but it's nice getting up to pee in the middle of the night and getting a reminder someone loves me, emanating through the soles of my feet.
Yesterday in my Psychology of Criminology class, we had to form four groups for a final mini-conference. There are four guys and 25 students and the guys had to be separated. It reminded me of the One Male Units of the Hamadryas Baboons we learned about in Primate Origins in Society (note: first Sid Perloe reference on the blog.) For lunch we went to the super hygge cafe and dined like Americans (bagged lunch), and then I bought an 80 Kroner authentic worn out Zidane jersey at a second hand store.
Last night Lucy and I went "bar hopping." It's in quotes because although we went to almost 10 bars, we bought nothing, except for an oversized chocolate muffin at 7-11, the remainder of which I just used to make a TRIPLE DEATH BY CHOCOLATE oversized pancake. I called it "Triple" Death by Chocolate because it had three species of chocolate: muffin, milk and cereal. I'm not really sure why I called it "Death by Chocolate" because that's something restaurants do to attract their customers. I guess that means the only reason I could have done so is that it might actually kill me. But now that I've posted this, how embarrassing would it be if I actually died from this pancake? Someone would have to mention it in my eulogy and how the whole situation represents my love for life and its hidden joys. But they always say that about people who were, in actuality, completely useless during their time on earth. So maybe I am, in fact, completely useless. I am, in fact, writing a paragraph on the nomenclature of a pancake I made by myself for myself.
Anyway, today I missed a field study to Roskilde Domkirke, which is okay because I slept in and I have another field study later today that involves interviewing Danes on the street. I look forward to it because the Danes love to talk to strangers. I am of course using that famous Danish sarcasm.
The Danes love sarcasm, but they love to tell foreigners how much they love sarcasm more.
My new penchant for purchasing figs off of the street has helped me become quite regular.
Tomorrow I am going on a study tour of Western Denmark and won't update my blog until next week.
Yesterday in my Psychology of Criminology class, we had to form four groups for a final mini-conference. There are four guys and 25 students and the guys had to be separated. It reminded me of the One Male Units of the Hamadryas Baboons we learned about in Primate Origins in Society (note: first Sid Perloe reference on the blog.) For lunch we went to the super hygge cafe and dined like Americans (bagged lunch), and then I bought an 80 Kroner authentic worn out Zidane jersey at a second hand store.
Last night Lucy and I went "bar hopping." It's in quotes because although we went to almost 10 bars, we bought nothing, except for an oversized chocolate muffin at 7-11, the remainder of which I just used to make a TRIPLE DEATH BY CHOCOLATE oversized pancake. I called it "Triple" Death by Chocolate because it had three species of chocolate: muffin, milk and cereal. I'm not really sure why I called it "Death by Chocolate" because that's something restaurants do to attract their customers. I guess that means the only reason I could have done so is that it might actually kill me. But now that I've posted this, how embarrassing would it be if I actually died from this pancake? Someone would have to mention it in my eulogy and how the whole situation represents my love for life and its hidden joys. But they always say that about people who were, in actuality, completely useless during their time on earth. So maybe I am, in fact, completely useless. I am, in fact, writing a paragraph on the nomenclature of a pancake I made by myself for myself.
Anyway, today I missed a field study to Roskilde Domkirke, which is okay because I slept in and I have another field study later today that involves interviewing Danes on the street. I look forward to it because the Danes love to talk to strangers. I am of course using that famous Danish sarcasm.
The Danes love sarcasm, but they love to tell foreigners how much they love sarcasm more.
My new penchant for purchasing figs off of the street has helped me become quite regular.
Tomorrow I am going on a study tour of Western Denmark and won't update my blog until next week.
Monday, February 2, 2009
A Great Day
A stop on the 6A bus (past my Bispebjerg St. stop) is called "Peter Bangs Vej," which is one vowel exchange from being very funny to look at. Imagine, "Peter Bungs Vej"! No no, I am of course talking about if it was "Peter Bangs Vaj."
Today was a great day in my overall transition and well-being. My vertigo and nausea is starting to go away, to begin with. This is important because I just found out I need to wake up at 6:30 on Thursday to make my study tour and won't be able to make my doctor's appointment. I made a few key purchases today that also lightened my spirits. Today was pretty much the last day for the winter sale season and I was able to claim tight bright red jeans and a tight pink-plaid button-down tee for a combined 100 kroner. The items were priced originally at 700 kroner. I also purchased some sweet Velcro french kicks, specifically "le coq sportif" for 60 US. I went to a fig and nuts stand and offered the man just short of 5 Kroner. He told me this was not money and to leave his stand. I went to the fruit and nuts stand with less cool figs and dates and stuff but this man was happy to give me more figs and dates than I could want without even asking for the petty change I offered (which amounted to approx. 93 US cents). I obviously gave it to him anyway and will frequent his stand quite often. The first man should take a lesson in business from the first. And, to top if off, for 7-something US, I purchased a liter of quite hard apple cider.
The smell I smell when I enter my room is starting to smell like a place called "home" and my Hans Christian Andersen course is sweet sweet sweet. It's just as black and dark as I thought it would be and I enjoyed the class discussion on the whole. I especially enjoyed not having to take a course with a professor who constantly says "uman" instead of "human," and won't say a line like "as we reemerge from the literature we've obliged ourself to indulge in," instead of saying "as we stop reading." Oh and Kobenhavn is endearing and I made some good choices this weekend and everything looks good.
Today was a great day in my overall transition and well-being. My vertigo and nausea is starting to go away, to begin with. This is important because I just found out I need to wake up at 6:30 on Thursday to make my study tour and won't be able to make my doctor's appointment. I made a few key purchases today that also lightened my spirits. Today was pretty much the last day for the winter sale season and I was able to claim tight bright red jeans and a tight pink-plaid button-down tee for a combined 100 kroner. The items were priced originally at 700 kroner. I also purchased some sweet Velcro french kicks, specifically "le coq sportif" for 60 US. I went to a fig and nuts stand and offered the man just short of 5 Kroner. He told me this was not money and to leave his stand. I went to the fruit and nuts stand with less cool figs and dates and stuff but this man was happy to give me more figs and dates than I could want without even asking for the petty change I offered (which amounted to approx. 93 US cents). I obviously gave it to him anyway and will frequent his stand quite often. The first man should take a lesson in business from the first. And, to top if off, for 7-something US, I purchased a liter of quite hard apple cider.
The smell I smell when I enter my room is starting to smell like a place called "home" and my Hans Christian Andersen course is sweet sweet sweet. It's just as black and dark as I thought it would be and I enjoyed the class discussion on the whole. I especially enjoyed not having to take a course with a professor who constantly says "uman" instead of "human," and won't say a line like "as we reemerge from the literature we've obliged ourself to indulge in," instead of saying "as we stop reading." Oh and Kobenhavn is endearing and I made some good choices this weekend and everything looks good.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Fisker Family
Before the Fisker family, a general note about the Danes: Danes are totally okay with losing. It's still up in the air whether or not they like it. The Danes are completely cool with their history of losing war after war and giving up land to other countries. As long as they still have something, they are happy. They are modest. Their hero is Hans Christian Andersen, who is a literary hero whose biography is based on failing and losing. At acting, at singing, at pursuing women, at pursuing men. They lost the semi-final match to make it to the handball championships on Friday and then lost the third place game today, but they sure did try hard. And that's what counts. In America, every professional team is expected to have at least a .600 record and make it to the playoffs. From our statistical background, we know that this is unattainable for most teams. If American sports fans were Danish, as long as their teams tried hard, we would be happy.
Now, the Fiskers. At 3:30 today I went to the residence of the Fisker family, my visiting family for my stay in Copenhagen. I was picked up by Rasmus and Casper, two of the three children, and we walked back to their home which seems regular in the backdrop of Copenhagen, but would be considered on the edge between advanced modernism and humble post-modernism. In short, it was a lovely, loving experience. They made meat pies that were warm and we talked about things that deserved to be talked about and everyone cared what everyone had to say. The youngest, Anders, eventually showed up and was timid at speaking English but tried anyway. The mother called them "octopussies" once (although said it correctly the second time), and there was warm bread and a meal that took over an hour to create and warmth. She packed me two brownies and the remainder of the meat pie for lunch which I greedily ate on the metro on the way home but accidentally left. I hope to see them again soon.
The Super Bowl is starting in 2 hours (12:30 am Danish time), and I have to be in the city at 8:30 am tomorrow. It isn't optimal, but I'm looking forward.
Now, the Fiskers. At 3:30 today I went to the residence of the Fisker family, my visiting family for my stay in Copenhagen. I was picked up by Rasmus and Casper, two of the three children, and we walked back to their home which seems regular in the backdrop of Copenhagen, but would be considered on the edge between advanced modernism and humble post-modernism. In short, it was a lovely, loving experience. They made meat pies that were warm and we talked about things that deserved to be talked about and everyone cared what everyone had to say. The youngest, Anders, eventually showed up and was timid at speaking English but tried anyway. The mother called them "octopussies" once (although said it correctly the second time), and there was warm bread and a meal that took over an hour to create and warmth. She packed me two brownies and the remainder of the meat pie for lunch which I greedily ate on the metro on the way home but accidentally left. I hope to see them again soon.
The Super Bowl is starting in 2 hours (12:30 am Danish time), and I have to be in the city at 8:30 am tomorrow. It isn't optimal, but I'm looking forward.
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