Facebook bought Angry Birds and I believe that Taco Bell should expand to Europe.

But for real.
The Angry Birds people are expecting to have 1 billion+ people using their game before the end of the year.
And a 5-layer burrito [no beans], a nacho supreme [no beans or tomatoes], and a chessy roll-up would satisfy my every craving right now.
And probably piss off my gallbladder.
But that'd be a risk I'm willing to take.

After an exhausting study tour, what better way to recover than hitting the bars?
Saturday night I ate a pizza dinner with the family, got my exhausted self into a debatably successful 'going out' outfit, and met up with Samantha in the city where I went with her to meet up with girls from her study tour (Callie met us there later).
On the way there Sam and I are approached, by car, by a pair of obviously chivalrous gentleman who drive slowly next to us in their car and say nothing.
Why speak when they obviously were interested in getting to know us on a personal level and see what kind of meaningful relationship this could turn in to thought we were hookers?
Thank God we were close to the apartment we were headed towards.
I didn't want to awkwardly explain to a Danish person, in English, that my body, was in fact, not for sale.

We all head to a crowded, smoky bar called the Francis Pony where the drinks are fair priced and there is not a seat in the place.
We stand and drink and talk and dance for almost 4 hours before deciding that if we want to make it home before the almost-routine 7am, we should go soon.
We make it to the train just in time.
In the "morning" [12:30pm] we awaken smelling like the cigarette smokers we all sound like due to shared congestion and sore throats.
I make my 2 hour commute home, thankfully not ready to vomit at every train stop this time, and walk into an empty house.
Nicolai, my host brother, has recently acquired an apartment in Copenhagen and apparently the previous owner only cooked greasy foods and never cleaned the kitchen.
So most evenings the family can be found cleaning the apartment so he can move in by March 1.
I nap and lounge about and watch Downton Abbey [yes Grandma, you were right. I should have been watching this since you told me about months ago.] and snack.
Around 7pm my family comes home, apparently afraid that I was starving (I didn't mention that I'd spent virtually the entire afternoon snacking) they brought with them 11, not 5, not even 10, but 11 McDonald's sandwiches for dinner.
They apologize.
I tell them that apologies are far from necessary.
They tell me they didn't think I would mind.
My eating habits scream snacker and lover of fast food.
I eat two burgers.
Nicolai eats two.
Pia eats one.
....Bjørn eats 4.

Monday I shuffle my way through the day in a exhausted and congested fog [which, might I add, is how I meet the CEO/President of the banking company that is partnering with my Campaign Management class that we will be working with the entire semester. My appearance did not match his suit. He wasn't wearing a tie though- I was relieved.]
I have the house to myself again because of the apartment cleaning extravaganza so I do the normal things- eat dinner, post a birthday video on Facebook of my extraordinary dancing skills, eat another bowl of pasta, clean my room, and shower.

My bus leaves at 7:12am.
Tuesday it left at 7:10am.
I was at the corner of my street headed to the stop when I watched it drive by.
And it was either be 30 minutes late to class or go back to bed for a while...so I curled back up in bed, much to the confusion of my host family who had heard me leave earlier.
Train to class.
Train home.
Train to a networking dinner for DIS students and young Danes.
A group of us head to a bar for a drink and then to the DIS-populated....I-don't-know-how-to-spell-it-but-it's-pronounced-Cooler Bar.
We head home around 5am and I fall asleep on the train.
And after waking up entirely disoriented I miraculously get on the bus that is headed the right way, where after disembarking the public transit vehicle I turn onto my street where I am slyly greeted by ninja-ice black-ice.
Which just sounds so much better then 'I couldn't see the ice and I took one step and hardcore wiped out.
Which, by the way, I did again yesterday when I left my house to stay the night at Samantha's.
Damn ninja-ice.

So we know we are going to Barcelona and Lisbon.
We know the dates.
We know the websites to purchase plane tickets from.
We know that I will be living off of bread, peanut butter (or nutella), water, and probably some cheap alcohol wherever we go.
I now just to have put on my big girl panties and watch one week of travel have the effect on my bank account that locusts had on the biblical crops of old.
I think I'm going to treat myself to a pastry to recover from the stress of travel plans.

11:01am Denmark
5:01am USA