...and then I got on a bus full of old ladies.

And they all smell the same.
No matter what country you're in.

And this obviously means I survived my second night out in Copenhagen.
The three of us [from now on feel free to assume from this I mean Samantha, Callie and myself] ventured into the very cold city of Vaelrose (don't quote me on the spelling. just because I'm posting this to the internet doesn't mean I'm gonna take the time to look it up. I've been up since 6am.)
We met up with a gentlemen friends Eric and Lars and enjoyed a beer at a quaint restaurant that was set to close in 15 minutes.
We followed up that beer with another beer at the pub down the street.
We head back to good old Billy Booze for another good time, Eric in tow. Lars decided to return home to his host family. Probably to save his dignity the same way I'm pretty sure mine disappeared a few hours later.
We wait outside in line and talk to a friendly and loud couple, the woman is from Finland and her boyfriend is from Spain.
We head in, check our coats, and it's back to Jagermeister and Red Bull for Callie and I.
A very short man repeatedly hits my ass and some very tall men seem to consistently be surrounding us was we're dancing.
....more drinks are purchased.
...more drinks are purchased.
......
.....
.....
and then at around 5:00am we exit the club.
This is normal for Danish culture, Mom.
It's snowing outside and the city is beautiful.
Samantha decides that on our trek back to the train station she is going to make a snow angel on the sidewalk.
I may or may not have encouraged this decision.
We get to the train station and because I don't know what zone I live in, it is decided that I will head home on my train by myself and Samantha and Callie will head towards their respective train stops.
After some frustrated confusion on my end, I finally embark sleep on my journey home.
I wake up just in time to get off the train and start walking home.
And holla to yo God, whoever it may be because I made it home safe and sound.
Where I proceed to nom on the pantry snacks all curled up in bed.
Did I mention that the sun is rising and it is now approximately 7am?
And I sleep.
And it is good.

Sunday is spent in recuperation for all parties involved, including my host sister, who'd been at a party of her own that Saturday night.
After I shower the smell of Danish men and cigarette smoke out of my hair, I watch the European handball final with my host family.
After much screaming of the word 'fuck' and some tense last minutes, DENMARK WINS!
If you combine soccer and basketball you'd have handball, and I am now proudly residing in the gold-winning country of Europe.

Monday morning, 6am comes around way too quickly, and I am suddenly back on the train and headed into the city for a studious day of academia.
After a chilly day of knowledge, I get home in time for dinner.
And as the parents are gone, Piam at yoga and Bjørn acting has a handyman to his friend, Nicolai decides to make a....kind of pasta for dinner.
It could be described as an exceptionally cheesy carbonara made with ham instead of bacon.
I nommed.
Our dinner conversation when Piam comes includes Jersey Shore and Denmark's sale of stamps at Christmas time to pay for fat camp for unfortunate obese children.
And after watching the Danish Big Brother, I wash the lingering smell of my Saturday night out of my hair and pass out.
And again, the sleep is glorious,

Today was a very hungry Tuesday full of many noms.
And then I got on my bus full of ladies, came home, and kept nomming.
I have a nomming problem.
Now I've got doodling to attend to and homework to ignore [that's what train rides are for].
And mother, father, please be proud. I, your responsible daughter am refraining from going out this fine Danish evening because I have a make-up class at 8:30 tomorrow morning because I decided I didn't want to! This must be what acting maturity feels like.

5:10pm Denmark
11:10am USA