2010

Doesn't that just look like the future? It's 3/4 binary, and that makes sense. No?

Here are a few pics of the part of Kobenhavns Universitet I will be taking classes at, from time to time. And a picture of the future, cuzwe'reinitandstuff.

Roskilde

This was a few days back, but these pictures are from a trip my dad and I took to Roskilde, a city just across N Zealand. My mind had trouble wrapping itself around the cathedrals age (from 940). The bodies helped though.

Aight Peace!

Won't say much, I'm just going to let the humor flow, but I will say this sacred piece is 1000 years old (young).

...but do notice the pimp cup.

HAHA. Lil' Jon knows more than we think.

Who wants flowers when your dead?

Nobody.

Ridiculous.

Signed up for classes this morning. I'm taking "Soren Kierkegaard: The Challenge of Existence", "Danish Culture" and "Danish Language". My culture class is graded completely on attendance (two freebies), I will be in class 3 times a week, write a grand total of two papers and receive 16 UW credits. Oh myyy gawwwwwwwwww. I think I should join the Handball team.

I feel pretty good right now.

I move into my apartment tomorrow, met my roommates today. One is most definitely one of the girls from Amina and the other is Jonsi. Pictures to come.

0

This too.

Also, yesterday my Dad and I were walking through my neighborhood and decided to cut thorough a cemetery behind my apartment. Then we stumbled over these, Neils Bohr, Hans Christian Anderson and Soren Kierkegaard. Amazing.

Helsingør Castle

Drove up through the snow today to the very tip of Zealand to a Castle we'd heard about, turns out it was where Shakespeare used to go to entertain the Danish king and subsequently conceived and wrote Hamlet, pretty damm boss. Circa 1400. The pictures aren't the greatest, but there were tons of dungeons and other radical parts.

Here are a few to give you an idea...

Godtmorgen

Just came to after a lengthy nights sleep, about 10 hours I think. Our hotel rests on one of the main drags in Copenhagen, so we sleep to the soundtrack of the city. I dreamt the entire night, but what may have been a bizarre fever dream, sustained through the night, was interrupted and broken up into a series of even stranger pieces by tiny one cylinders whizzing by, and young couples coming and leaving home, interlocked and giggling. Jutting out like spokes, or one way streets from my psyche, they got progressively extraordinary and more heart-breaking throughout the night. In the last one, I was visiting a friend who had a summer house, somewhere. And in that weird dreamy, before-you-know-it-you-know sort of way, I knew something horrible happened down by the shore. I remember darting down the long, lush yard, flanked by huge, sad trees towards the beach. And, in the final approach, I saw something that looked vaguely like a sack of groceries. It was bobbing offhandedly in the tide. To the right, of what I later learned to be a small child, there was the wreckage of a plane. The metal frame was bent and twisted, and the wings were snapped. The water was swirled and tainted by the gasoline from the aircraft, and I can only remember standing on the narrow strip of sand looking at the toxic wake, wondering if I should go in.

'Splorin

Got out to explore the city a bit more today. As we wandered around, I couldn't help worrying I'd find the end of the beautiful half-timbered buildings and cobblestone streets. Never did, and I think that means I'm in love.

We're staying at the Cabinn Hotel. Their motto is, "Sleep cheap in luxury". I was skeptical before we checked in, even after a day I think I'd learned those two words were at odds with eachother in this town. Total piece of shit. Not even the noble type of shit that makes you feel at home in an old, worn city. Instead, the decor is bowling alley-esque, lots of purples, fuscias and teals, and the bed sheets are almost certainly covered in now-strangled-stripper-cum. I don't want luxury, thats not it. I don't want phonies. Reminds me of the Wendy's adds in America that say, "It's not fast food, It's Wendy's". ?

I like the bathrooms though. Super utilitarian and purpose driven. One button to turn the water on hot, and one for cold.

The beds are bunked, me below ma papa. This worries me. Really though he may be the oldest man to ever sleep top bunk.

We went our for dinner to some cafe in Central Kobenhavn, right across from the Hugo Boss store. I wanted to walk in and asked if they had any SS uniforms on backorder from WWII (did you know they designed them??). We swirled down beers and ate soup (suppe) and I listened to my dad talk about the USA being on the cusp of full political/economic disaster but how it will never be saved by any of our corrupt, self-serving politicians. HAHA, did you know John Edwards has an illegitimate child?? Great stuff.

In bed now, trying to reflect on the day and unearth that sleepy feeling. Eek.

Is blogging narcissism at its worst? Maybe. I'm such an asshole.

All for now ol' chaps, Godnat.

Public Policy

I strolled into a cafe today, told the man I was a tourist and asked where I could find these Danes in Kobenhavn. He showed me the door.

And this guy of course, he's a dane.

HAHA! This is the Fætter BR Mascot. He shows up all over Kobenhavn. Still not quite sure what this man holds in store for me. Toys? Or something more sinister? Any case, he's the first familiar face I've come to know in this city, and I think we might be friends.

Udgang, Indgang

Had the first of many meals in this awesome place tonight. It was a cozy (Hygge) cafe on Oslo-Plads. Dark (cherry?) wood floors, walls and ceilings, scuffed and scarred by, what I imagined to be, hundreds of years worth of foot traffic. Around the perimeter of the main dining room were small, red, ceramic lanterns which spilled their warm atmosphere onto the walls which anchored them. The waiter moved mechanically from table to table, sharing smiles and topping off water glasses (glas vands). "Tak", I'd say a little nervous and self-conscious about my accent. I had the chicken.

I'd noticed earlier almost everyone I'd seen in this country was fucking beautiful, and the waiter was no exception. But, unlike in the UessofA, it seemed never to inflate their personalities. The pretty young girl at the Budget Car Rental at CPH fit so incongruently into her blue knit company sweater, and tan pants. The uniform I'd come to understand we understand would only ever be worn in America, by Jeanine, a single mother from a small town in Wisconsin, working towards her Associates in Information Technology. DOWN WITH THE UNSPOKEN CASTE SYSTEM OF AMERICA. A JOB IS A JOB. I'm ranting.

Farvel

BAWS

Got in this afternoon. It's amazing already. I love everything. More to come.

Future posts will be more involved and have a smaller .-word ratio, don't lose hope.

This is Not a Test.