- I feel so checked out from school now.
- One month back in the States, I am back to 128# again. Maybe I can get to 135# by the end of the school year.
- I finally signed up for the ROC Race with friends #killingthis5K. Been running and working out every weekday and it feels mighty good.
- I bought a classy-ass vest yesterday from H&M and I can’t wait to wear it tomorrow.
- Job interview tomorrow. Fingers crossed for Roppongi happy hour as well @funkeemonkee.
- Kesha’s new song C’mon is really catchy.
- One more month til 21 and possibly that tattoo.
- Still working out my life and stuff, but I think it’s getting better, slowly. Trust and letting go; God why do You have to make it so hard for me. Or I guess why is it so hard for me.
I’m a bit late on “personal thought of the week” this time, but here it is. It bothers me when people are always “busy.” The “I want to hang out with you, but I’m just too busy” kind of busy. What on earth do you possibly have to do? Studying, yes, that’s understandable. We are at school to study. But that shouldn’t define you, as it seems to do for many of my friends. I study. I get my work done. But I have fun, as well. And when I make plans, I stick with them. Honestly, I’m a bit angry at the moment, because a friend wanted to study together for a quiz, and then couldn’t because he had stuff to do. It bothers me when that happens because it feels like I am not a priority to them. When people are too “busy” to grab lunch or coffee with me, even just for an hour, I feel rejected. I feel as though I always ask people to hang out with me, and half the time it never happens because people are too “busy”. You eat lunch, I eat lunch, we can eat lunch together! It would be nice if I was invited once in a while. I don’t like feeling like the annoying friend that always has to push people to hang out with her.
Fucking tumblr reblog changing it all up now. Freaking annoying. But this.
An interesting article from a friend.
Sex is simply a function of being human, like eating or drinking or making fun of Canadians.
LOLOLOL that made me crack up. Half of my peoples. But I’m still American first and foremost! ‘Murica. More seriously though. It’s interesting how not having pre-marital sex is always brought up, yet it seems when asked why this is so important, the answer is given along the lines of “because the Bible says so” or “I’m saving for that special person so that it will be a special moment since sex is a sacred and/or special thing.” In all seriousness, what the hell does that mean, and would it not be utterly awkward that first night having no idea what the hell to do?
So the difficult part, for me, was acknowledging the frightening truth of what I desired, which was — yes — love. Not give-up-the-last-piece-of-cake in love. Not fool-around-and-start-to-date-by-accident-and-now-oops-we’re-married in love. I wanted to be in walk-through-fire-for-you love. I wanted the love of bound destinies, of journeys to Hell, of heartbreak that literally kills.
I think those last two sentences are simply beautiful and speaks volumes. Having a love that must be fought for, whether literally or not. and having something really worth treasuring and dying for. And I really like the last bit from the author about having a code and set morality about love and/or sex that you answer for yourself why. That one important question of why. But for now, I shall just ponder the wistful thoughts of falling in love or ever finding love. Sigh.
Waiting at Copenhagen Airport for my flight. Leaving Europe. Having lived in Europe. Another chapter of life gone by. 5 months later, 10 flights, 14 cities, 7 countries, and countless hours on trains and buses, I will soon be home on the soils of America the beautiful. I wonder how different America will have become to me while I was gone, or how much Europe will have changed me. I thought it would be easy to leave Europe since there wasn’t much for me to say goodbye to, but there is definitely a strange feeling to be leaving a place I temporarily called home.
These last five months were more than I asked for and sometimes more than I wanted to handle or deal with. But how amazing is it to say that I legitimately plopped myself into a whole new city and country, knowing absolutely no one or the host country, and expected myself to find my way and navigate life in this foreign place. How amazing is it to say that I lived in Europe, for five months! A thing that many dream of, but has been a reality for myself. How amazing is it to say that I basically spent 20% of my time traveling for the first time outside of North America and seeing many different cities and cultures.
Study abroad was not the experience I expected or hoped for. Would I do it again? Maybe. Possibly in another country, although I would love to visit Copenhagen again in the future. Would I have wanted to take back those five months to be in San Diego? Absolutely not. I could go on with a list of my sadness and bitterness, but I won’t because there has been so much that I have learned and experienced.
I experienced culture shock in being surrounded by a strange language of potatoes in the mouth, yet I have learned to love this language. I experienced what it feels like to possibly be an illegal resident and anxiously trying to get to immigration services to apply for my residence permit in hopes that I won’t get deported or revoked due to application mishaps. I experienced a taste of being homeless and desperately seeking out shelter just to be protected from outright downpour in the middle of the night, and saw what it was like to have passerby’s look my way with a judgmental expression. I experienced this foreign concept of seasons—falling in love with autumn, and dealing with Mother freaking Nature’s mood swings in December. I experienced a whole new world of darkness, lethargy, and desires to hibernate until the sun pops back up again for a whole seven hours a day in December.
I learned to write in cursive for five months. I learned that Europe is not the scary stories my parents and relatives have told me; I’ve witnessed two demonstrations and one full out massive street protest, and I have never been pickpocketed. Or harmed at all. I’ve learned to love the education in Denmark and how applicable it is instead of the rote memorization and menial assignments back home. I learned that I love creativity and brainstorming creative solutions, and would love to have a career in such a path working to create a better city environment. I learned how much my attitude towards school and education has changed since high school; never had I thought that I would drop a class just because I could, so that I could live out life freely however possible for a month and a half. I learned about true independence and having freedom to really do whatever I want and go where I want. I learned that I really value friends and travel/adventures and I will make time for these two regardless of what I have to do, and I really do mean this—life isn’t and doesn’t have to be busy. I learned that those who wander are not necessarily lost, but could become extremely irritable and pissy at other people (I’m looking at you, Venice).
But most of all, no matter how much I miss my friends and community back home, I am glad that I got to get away from it all to force myself to think and be in an environment outside the influences of my past two years. As cliché as this may sound, Europe was a lot about finding myself. Even now, there’s still a lot I’m finding that I need to be comfortable with myself and learn to love, because I am worth loving and sacrificing for to Him above even if I don’t feel it with my heart at the moment. There has been much loneliness, dysphoria, and depression dealt with and still many cynicisms and bitterness left to deal with, but I’m learning to lift up a heavy anchor and make peace with a past to find happiness in the present.
I was looking over my travel itinerary and was wondering why the paper looked off since it looked shorter, fatter and stubbier than usual. And then I realized that it was American-sized paper. It’s been a while since I’ve seen American paper. Yes even paper in America needs to be special with it’s own special size along with America’s special measurement system and special temperatures. The rest of the world uses A4 sized paper that is graceful, tall, and thin and we’re stuck with short, stubby paper. But it’s okay because only four more days until I’m back in this special, special place. Oh America, you :’)
- Venice is overrated. Well that’s what I think. It was wet, gloomy, rainy, cold. and flooding half the time. I guess it would be more romantic to go on a honeymoon with a future spouse than go as a college student with limited cash. But seriously, 28 EUR for a gondola ride in the dirty canals with rain constantly pouring down.
- Those bookshops and pen & paper stores were my favorite. Hiding out in those to escape the cold and discovering many books and fountain pens. I ended up buying Le Petit Prince. The French edition. To brush up on my French, because I am determined to keep French now after visiting Paris.
- Milan was a much better city than I expected. It is also filled with many beautiful people and well-dressed people. I aspire to dress like them one of these days. Of course, Milan still doesn’t hold up to the gorgeous and well-dressed-in-black people of Copenhagen.
- Via Monte Napoleone. Probably one of the most expensive streets in the world filled with top luxury-designer brands. Window shopping and walking around and realizing how poor and pathetic we are in such a city. It was fun making fun of boots with the fur and every other fur-inspired product.
- Walking in to Georgio Armani on Monte Napoleone for the fun of it and because we could. We felt like such peasants and unworthy people in that store. 250 EUR for a button up alone. I got one from H&M for 10 EUR. But man those clothes were hella nice and good to touch though the sales associates were probably inwardly judging us and looking down on us. I would love to own an Armani suit though LOL.
- Aperitivi. Best thing about Milan. Cocktails, wines, beers, champagnes, for 7-8 EUR with ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT snacks during happy hour AKA dinner time. You don’t understand how big of a deal all you can eat is in Europe where every meal is tiny and expensive. I thought it was too good to be true the first time. And we probably pigged out on the food like typical Americans. Proud Americans. But it was really nice to chill at restaurants and cafes for 2+ hours on end.
- “Heart of Canada with 20 kids and your Swedish-Canadian husband?” Yellow Cheese-its. Knee problems. Halfway through Narnia. Atlantis. The dirty, dirty. We have cookies. “Don’t get so angry that you shit yourself.”
Possibly one of my favorite articles on Thought Catalog. Fiction with a bit of thoughtfulness and a side of beautiful descriptions.
The mystery is not the strange lights in the sky. We know it’s particles from the sun hitting the Earth’s atmosphere, or something like that. The mystery is the feeling itself, the resonance of the human soul with these vast cosmic events, so that the infinitesimal becomes the infinite and vice versa. It’s not the frozen, indifferent stars peeking through the swirling green light that holds him there, transfixed, despite the cold. It’s the feelings he experiences as he stares up at the beautiful nothingness. The feeling that the ordinary miracle in the night sky is no greater than that of his own existence, that he should be alive and conscious in this particular place and time to experience this feeling of awe.
Well the first snow cover in Copenhagen happened on 12/2. It’s really cool waking up and seeing the first snowfall and transformation of a city into white. Maybe there will be a white Christmas after all. So I’ve been disconnected from the internet for some reason and it’s been like this for 2-3 days. I feel deprived. Facebook is such a hassle to reply to now #firstworldproblems. And now I have to go to school or the library to connect. I think this is punishment for me for deciding to finish school early and not take a course my last block. But whatever.
Given all the time I’ve had, I’ve been able to read a novel for the first time in a long time, and I finished Norwegian Wood. It’s quite racy, but still well-written. It’s similar to Great Gatsby, Catcher in the Rye, and Perks of being a Wallflower with the maturity and coming of age, though much of it is more about letting go of the past and starting life afersh. I really like Murakami’s simple writing style with detailed descriptions that seem to just be painted with words. Of course, I’m only reading a translation, but regardless, the translation was still great. And I guess also being able to relate to different aspects of many of the main characters that makes it captivating.
“Don’t get impatient. Even if things are so tangled up you can’t do anything, don’t get desperate or blow a fuse and start yanking on one particular thread before it’s ready to come undone. You have to figure it’s going to be a long process and that you’ll work on things slowly, one at a time.”