No, but really.
To make things more fun, lets go through my life happenings backwards!
They don't call me Sarah Elizabeth-Spontaneity-Smaki Maki for nothing!
Yesterday I spent the day at Samantha's house- breakfast, relishing in our unattractive hungover appearances, and skyping the equally hungover Bri back in the states.
Samantha went so far in her state of dying as to claim that she would not indulge in devil's drink again...unless on Tuesday night, since she's already in the city, and if other people are going out...then maybe.
[an editorial interruption by Callie Jones: I love Callie so much she is so amazing and smart and pretty and nice and fun.]
Saturday night I enjoyed a phenomenal meal with Samantha's host family, where the chicken was good, the conversation was lively, and her Danish grandfather was a generous pourer of wine.
After dinner we met Callie on the train and proceeded to the line at the club near DIS, Penthouse.
For a fee of 100 Kroner (and 30K to check your coat), you drink beer for free and if you're willing to let the bartender pour shots in your mouth directly from the bottle, then those are free as well.
And this is where my parents will be proud and my peers will be ashamed...we did not indulge in these free pourings of liquor.
Friday night I spent the night with my host parents at home.
Eating spaghetti and being force fed chocolate.
It was miserable. Obviously.
This stemmed from my exhaustion.
Thursday I was lucky enough to go to the Royal Danish Ballet with my History of Ballet class and it was absolutely phenomenal.
Nothing makes me want to go back to the days of horrendously disgusting feet and Russian teachers named Yuri and Demetri informing me that preschoolers could dance better than I could more than watching a professional ballet performance executed beautifully onstage.
And I am serious.
So that meant on Thursday I went back and forth to the city twice. AFTER I had to struggle through a class and a half in a Vicodin induced haze.
Not recreational usage.
Damn gallbladder.
Or should I say damn pastries and babybites?
No. I could never be angry at those.
Wednesday, after finally making it home at 8:30am [for those of you not on Facebook, I may or may not have fallen asleep on the 4:55am train home, ridden the train all the way home, and then ridden all the way back into the city before I woke up and realized where I was.] I went to back into the city to visit the media company DR.
I got to see where the Danish X-Factor is filmed...on one of the slowest tours I've ever had.
Did I mention that for another class I had to go back to DR on Thursday morning?
No?
Well I did.
So I was there twice in 12 hours.
And the second tour was given by a very nervous woman who was just as slow as the firs tour guide.
0 for 2, DR.
Tuesday I came in for classes, la dee da-ed my way through, returned home, and then got back on my most favoritest train ever for my even with Danes through DIS.
We went up to the Round Tower so I got to see the sprawling Copenhagen in the dark and it was beautiful.
Then we were supposed to go eat pancakes, as it was International Pancake Day, but the stores were closed.
And of course, it's Tuesday night, and I'm already in the city, so I met up with Samantha and Callie and Francesca and Brenna and others and we all embarked to the Sugary Bakery [and endearing name for a dark club with an open bar after your cover fee, "Lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor!" a la Outkast comes to mind].
And now that I've thrilled you all going backwards, I am waiting to go into my last class of today before I can get on my train home, eat dinner with my family who I will hopefully be able to see for more than 30 minutes, and then GO TO BED.
Homework be damned.
2:42pm Copenhagen
8:42am USA
Nice edit - you've got the touch, babycakes. :)
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