I wish I was Katniss, among other things.

Trying to get you to read this entry by referencing The Hunger Games in the title...too soon?

But really, I'd be useless in any kind of ass-kicking situation.
The amount of yelling and lack of pain I would inflict upon an enemy attacking is embarrassing.

Since Amsterdam the weeks have been fruitful of academic success with the added benefit of sunshine!
I'd like to point out, though, that despite the rise in temperature and added sunlight to our days, my legs have yet to actually see sunshine barring the one, yes, count it, ONE, run I've been on since my arrival.

There have been the usual ramblings about town, typically followed by a deep sleep and shower to cleanse one's self of the previous night's activities.
But I shan't divulge those ramblings here.
Because a true lady doesn't kiss dance like a 18-year-old runaway, drug addicted stripper and tell. [you can't judge me until you've seen the girls who I suspect are actual strippers on the side dancing next to me. I look like an Amish girl next to some of them! Do the Amish dance? How ignorant towards the Amish can I make this side note? Oh wait! They can't be reading this. No internet! I'm going to hell...]
Or vomit in a hallway and tell. 


Saturday night I went to see The Hunger Games with Louise and Pia, and whilst I had high expectations of the movie after hearing about it from everyone around me, Pia's expectations were set surprisingly low.
Apparently a Danish newspaper labeled the movie 'disgusting.'
I don't know what expired pastry they ate, but the only "disgusting" part of this movie was watching a swarm of poisonous bugs attack a living girl.
But other than that? It was phenomenal!
Even dubious Pia thought it was fantastic.
And she is a harsh critic.
And completely unafraid to say what's on her mind. [sidenote: she once told a young girl who was trying to measure the length of her bra in class that she shouldn't even be wearing one until she needs it. the girl was 10 or 11. I quite possibly would have died of embarrassment. Even though someone could probably still tell me that today...]
Of course, then we cam home and they wanted to watch The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. In Swedish. With Danish subtitles.
And can I just say, the intense rape scene is even more intense when you can't understand the language.
Needless to say I wasn't too invested in watching it, which was probably a good thing because then, out of nowhere (sort of) BAM!
Gallbladder attack.
Sonofabitch!

An hour of writhing in pain, in the dark of my room, with the window open, attempting to use Netflix to keep my mind off of the intestine trying to violently hurl a rock through the lining of my abdomen later, the Vicodin kicked in.
Pain pills are the saving grace of this karmic retribution I'm facing for eating pastries and baby bites at every whim I had.
Gone are the days of carefree, fatty-laden foods for me.
I'm in Day 3 of my healthier eating habits, and this is least I've eaten and the most consistently I've been semi-hungry since my arrival. 
Doing momma and them doctors proud.
For now...
But I got some serious cravings going on right now.
DAMN YOU GENETICS, BEING A GIRL, AND A HIGH FAT DIET.

Anywho.
I blog this meaningless blog today because this will probably be the last you hear from me for a bit.
Sunday I leave for Czechoslovakia.
Where I will be staying in a castle.
And caving. And rock climbing. And hiking!
And then I'm home for a day and a half.
And then Barcelona.
And then Lisbon.
My life is very, very difficult.

HA!

Well, I should really be writing a press release about Nordic food.
Weird sandwiches, remoulade sauce, and the like.

Damn my gallbladder, I'm hungry.

8:50am USA
2:50pm Denmark [We jumped ahead!]