Eggsellent Weekend Adventures

Hello All! (Rumor has it, more people than just my mother are reading this? I am shocked!  Some of you are relatives, so y'all are forced to like me. Some of you work with my mom. You are probably at least a little afraid of her, so you are just doing what she says. But having seven whole followers! I feel downright special! ) Thank you all for reading and writing back to me. I miss you guys!

It seems impossible that I have only been here a week. I am a little bit proud of myself. In the course of seven days, I have already accomplished a LOT. Remember how I was lost in scary public transportation land for 2 hours my first day? Who has two thumbs and knows how to get herself to and from school using Bus 14? THIS GIRL. Having whined to my father about my inability to understand any map (I attribute this to what I call extremely-early-onset Alzheimer's, but Bill seems to believe my condition is called "air-heads syndrome"), I am VERY proud of this accomplishment. So, to further self-aggrandize, I am going to take this one week anniversary opportunity to detail some of the fun/terrifying things I have learned thus far in Denmark. Hehem:

Top Seven Things Lizzy Learned After Seven Days in Copenhagen:

1. Denmark is really, really, really jeffin' cold. I know, I know, you are saying "but, but Rochester, NY has the grossest weather in all of forever and everywhere. It CAN'T be that much worse." Ye of little faith.... come here and see for yourself. It doesn't snow here, it just burrs all the time. I am 90 percent sure I have lost weight in effort to maintain homeostasis alone. Therefor, I have devised a plan of survival. May I introduce THE QUEST FOR THE PERFECT CUP.

2. Turns out, Copenhagen seems to have more cafes than people. If I were a coffee drinker, I would be all excited for this. But, because I become a crackhead when I drink coffee (see Facebook statuses during last finals week for confirmation), I made the executive decision not to publicly embarrass my new friends by drinking it. I had all but resigned myself to a lowly, cafe-less life when I hit a stroke of brilliance. A friend of mine recommended that we go to a little cafe in search of what her guidebook called "the best hot chocolate in Copenhagen". SOLD. So began my quest for the perfect cup. Since, I have memorized the word for "hot chocolate" in Danish (varm chokolade), and tried it all over. Turns out the the Danes make INCREDIBLE hot chocolate. This morning, I had "tri-color" hot chocolate from a nice little cafe with wifi. White, milk, and dark chocolate hunks that you slowly stir into your holy-shit-that's-hot steamed milk. Hi, heaven!

3. Food in Denmark is absurd. It is extremely expensive, and not all together impressive. Because I am a a college student on a budget, I spent my first week essentially living off of eggs. Unfortunately, I can't manage to figure out how to buy salt at the scary grocery store. So, they were pretty bland eggs. After 4 days of every possible pathetic combination of egg, rye bread, and mysterious cheese, I hit a wall. I walked past a seven-eleven (Note: I don't have one of these anywhere near me in the US. But there are about 10 within walking distance here), saw "CHIK STIX, 25 KRONER" on a big sign in the window, and ate some mysterious grilled chicken on a stick. This was probably a new low point in my life, but the non-egg protein was so very worth it. On Sunday, I managed to find my way to the less scary grocery store that sells things that look more edible. So last night and tonight, I ate THIS:

Cheese tortellini with pesto, garlic, cherry tomatoes, 

white beans, and spinach. NOM NOM NOM. 

4. Nobody J-walks in Copenhagen. and I mean nobody. There aren't even very many cars. What happened to good ol' left, right, left again cross? Here, literally every single person waits for the nice little green walk sign. I think I live in a land of robots. Real nice ones, though. 

5. Bikers are deadly. When DIS sent be an information packet that told me this. I was like, "hehehe. nice little old men on bikes." FALSE. Bikers here are intense. They are FLYING by, and they will not stop for any reason. There are bike lanes all over Copenhagen. Unfortunately, they are often the same height as the sidewalk. I have learned to remember NOT to walk in them, for fear of becoming bike lane kill. Note, the Danes don't have a word for "J-walk" but they DO have a word for road kill. Terrified. 

6. Danish women are, at bare minimum, 300 percent better at life than I am. Remember all that wizzing around on bikes the Danes do? Danish women fly at a million miles an hour, carrying purses, backpacks, children, groceries, etc. etc. in the snow, rain, and (did I mention?) FREEZING COLD. All the while, they look like this: 

If I every try to bike around here (currently, still to terrified and cold), I will likely look like this: 

7. TIGER, which is something of a cross between Target and the dollar store, is the most fabulous store on earth. However, Tiger and I are currently in a fight, because of my final observation: stores close here at any time they gosh darn please. Oh, you wanted something from Tiger at 2:00pm on a Saturday? NONE FOR YOU. We are open Sunday afternoons. Just kidding.. not at the location nearest you, we aren't. Oh you fickle little socialist Denmark, you. Fortunately, the grocery store nearest me has slightly more reliable hours. Yesterday, during the Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2012, I was very thankful it was open at (GASP!) 8:00pm! 

All silliness aside, I had a wonderful first weekend. Much bar hopping, shopping, strolling, and napping was had. Naps are win, always, and there is a wonderful shopping street here named Strogot where all of the worlds pretty little ditties are to be found. I obviously purchased two more scarves and an ear warmer, because it is le-freezing. 

Time for some homework! (What?! I thought I was just here to play dress-up-like-a-european-lady!)

Love you all, 

Lizard 

Tiny Humans

LOVE. 

Hello again wonderful friends, 

These past two days have been nothing short of absolutely exhausting. Classes begin Thursday, so these three days are supposed to be an "orientation" of sorts. However, when you combine the super jetlag (I am still waking up like a crackhead at all hours) with the number of times I have gotten lost in the city of Copenhagen in the past 24 hours, it is beginning to feel like more of a DISorientation week.

Monday morning, we left my building at 7:30am and took the metro to Copenhagen city centre. Our SRA's shepherded us over to our official welcoming ceremony via the mother duck method. It felt like being back in the first grade (I am PISSED I was not elected line-leader.) But, I would later realize how grateful I should have been for the free directions.The event took place in an absolutely beautiful museum. As most big speaking event type things tend to be, the event was pretty painfully boring. I stayed awake by focusing really, really, really hard on not laughing every time one of the program leaders, Anders, got up to speak. His voice is something of a cross between Hannibal Lector and Dora the explorer. a+b= Pedophile. Terrifying. The rest of Monday is largely a blur. I applied for my Danish Residence Permit so I won't be an illegal anymore (note: my passport was never stamped entering Denmark, so I am 99 percent sure I am currently here on pretty sketchy terms.) The real highlight of Monday was trying to navigate my way home. Fortunately, every DIS student currently sticks out like a sore thumb. We all walk around with ugly DIS backpacks, and have the same "holy-shit-where-on-earth-am-I" look on our faces. So I managed to meet up with a group of friends so we could be lost together. For those of you who know my wonderful sense of direction, I am sure you realize how awful being lost alone would be. It took our group of twenty able bodied, college-educated adults almost two hours to navigate home (I only live about 15 minutes from classes.) Public transportation here is overwhelming, to say the least. 

Today was a definite improvement on yesterday. We spent the entire morning participating in an "amazing race" style competition. We were split into groups of six, and given a map, some money, some transit passes, and a list of locations. The goal was to navigate our way to each location on the map, obtain a stamp from the DIS professor at each post, and make it back to our school first. Although this felt a lot like a night program at CSM, it ended up being an awesome chance to get my bearings and see a ton of the major city landmarks in one fell swoop. All said and done, we ended up walking about 20 miles. It was exhausting, but the weather was beautiful (okay, so "beautiful" in Copenhagen is any sunny day. It is totally freezing, and it feels like the sun is only out for about seven hours. You appreciate it when it makes a shiny little appearance!) I finally got some pretty pictures to share with you nice humans. 

Amalienborg Palace. Located in an absolutely stunning city park. 

The Royal Palace. I saw the queen! 

Informal changing of the guard. Danes, as a whole, are much less formal than the British. Pretty sure I saw one of these guys scratch his butt. Probably more like a light butt pat. I am still 80% sure these ones are robots. 

Copenhagen Opera House. Absolutely stunning.

I essentially ran through all of these places (and more!), so I didn't have time for great pictures. More to come when I finally get some time to sightsee (err... time to breathe for that matter.) The real jewel of today's pictures appears at the top of the page. The picture was taken in the park surrounding the Amalienborg Palace. As we were running through, we ran into a group of Danish preschoolers. (Okay, so not JUST preschoolers. There were a few teachers in there.) However, you would hardly notice them. Over the course of the day, we saw SO many young kids all over the city. I am half convinced I got so lost in Copenhagen that I just ended up on my way to Oz, instead. Lollypop guild anyone? But really, it seems like 1/2 of the population of Copenhagen is under the age of five. Lots of Danes getting their "hygge" on. (This loosely translates to "cosy".) But, unlike your average group of American preschoolers, these kids are IMPECCABLY well behaved. Swarms of them, (like, 40 kids to with no more than 2 teachers) were riding the metro, hoping on and off of the bus, and parading around super fancy museums. Above, I managed to capture a candid moment of adorable Danish nugget-ness. I will be spending every Thursday working in a Danish preschool or daycare. I am SO excited! 

Finally, my day ended on a hilarious note. As I may have mentioned, I knew exactly ONE word of Danish before arriving in Copenhagen. (That word was Hej!, or Hi!) As of today, I know exactly one more word of Danish (Tak = Thank you!). I feel as though someone was supremely exaggerating when they told me I could navigate well enough without much Danish. This person CLEARLY never tried to go grocery shopping in Copenhagen. Woof. Before today, I had been eating out for meals. I probably have less of an idea of what Danish food is now than I did before I left. I have eaten Indian food, Thai food, and Italian food. Oh, and several Danishes! NOM NOM NOM. However, I soon realized that eating out in Copenhagen is ungodly expensive. Remember all of those gazillions of Kroner I had? Zoinks. In order to save money, a few brave friends and I decided to pick up the essentials at the grocery store. Long story short, it took me nearly an hour just to find eggs, milk, cheese, pasta, cherrios, apples, and peanut butter. Two of these things were to be found in the mysterious unlabeled "America" section. Here, I will share with you what Danish people think Americans eat:

1) Peanut butter labeled (loosely translated) "Processed America Peanut Spread" 

2) Star wars themed Jelly labeled "America Fake Jam"

3) Fruitloopish things called "Candy sugar cereal for dessert." 

Sense a theme?... 

Overall,  I am a bit overwhelmed but very excited for the amazing adventures to come. Write again soon! 

Love and miss you all, 

Lizard 

Icelandic pants, unibrows, and arrival jitters

Greetings from Copenhagen, Denmark!

It is currently around 9:30pm here, and all of you are consumed by the wonderful world of football back home. I am on the brink of hysterical exhaustion, so I decided this would be the perfect time to update my blog. I figure when I wake up tomorrow morning, it will finally feel like a new day, and some of the not-sure-if-I-was-halucinating stories of my travels will fade. So, I'll start at the beginning!

Saturday night at 8:30, I flew out of Boston. My first flight was essentially a mobile sorority/fraternity mixer. I think all but three people were students heading abroad. This was super amusing for like... an hour. Three unreasonably beautiful (and very drunk) gentlemen from St. Lawrence sat across the isle from me, and we chatted about how Kate Mahar has a "bomb ass voice." This is a fact. In addition to travel eye candy, the travel gods were on my side, because I managed to snag a row with an open middle seat. Wammies, foot rest here I come. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that no number of foot resting spots make airplanes seats more comfortable, and sleep was nowhere to be found. Womp, womp.

I landed in Reykjavik, Iceland around 1:30am EST. By this point, I was an absolute crackhead. I remember nothing from this hour layover but the following three things:
1) Icelandic men have the most hilarious pants in the entire world. I saw at least four pairs of purple plaid pants, several strange polka-dot jegging-ish-seeing-too-much-of-your-icelandic-junk pants, and even pants with fur around the ankles. From this point forward, I am abandoning all hope of creating a "european classy lady" costume while I am here, and going straight to icelandic man fashion. CSM Costume room, here I come.
2) This was probably part sleep deprivation and part I'm-a-huge-narcissist-ness, but every single word of Icelandic sounds like my last name. This obviously makes no sense, because Huberlie is in NO way Icelandic, but I accidentally responded "what?!" like three times to the stewardesses.
3) Finally, the man who stamped my passport in customs had what was absolutely the most hilarious unibrow that I will ever see in my entire life. The competition is over. The metals have been awarded. Young Ali Huberlie, your spotlight has been stolen. This brow not only stretched from ear to ear, it also went nearly all the way down his NOSE. Ordinarily, I would feel bad for such an unfortunate brow faced man. However, it legitimately looked like this man had been crafting this brow with great detail his entire life. It looked straight out of the "brow diva", for you Rochester folk. I have decided that upper-face-facial hair is simply another Icelandic fashion statement. Noted.

My flight from Reykjavik to Copenhagen was decent. One screaming child too many, but he was wearing tiny little baby UGG boots, so I pardoned his sins. (Former spiritual director powers, obviously.) I cat napped for about a half hour in the super cosy head-on-tray-table position before abandoning hope of sleep. Finally, at around 6:00am EST, we landed in snowy Copenhagen! Horrray!

My first day here has been a bit of a blur. My bags were some of the last off of the plane, and I think I kissed them when they were finally in my arms. Some nice DIS people took us to our apartments and helped us to get settled. Overall, the program seems super well organized and efficient. We had building orientations, got handed a rainforest worth of paperwork, and went on a guided tour around our neighborhood. There is a bakery right outside the window that has beautiful.... ready, ready!? DANISHES in the windows. Sold. After all of this, we went out to a super-traditional... uhm.. Thai food place? After having eaten nothing but some Cherrios for 12 hours, they could have served me hot garbage.

Now, I am settled back in my room trying to stay up long enough to get on some sort of normal schedule. My room is nice, if sparse. I will post pictures soon. Living in the UofR's most beautiful upperclassman housing, Riverview, probably spoiled me. Oh how I miss you, big kitchen and private bathtub. The showers here are probably strangest thing ever. There is no stall of anything, just a shower head and a little partial curtain. :) Here's too new experiences.

More to come when I'm not cracked out.

Love you all,
Lizard

Laissez les bon temps rouler

Hello all! (Read: Hi Mom. Thanks in advance for being the only one to read my blog!) 


Welcome to my first ever BLOG POST on my first ever BLOG. This is all very exciting. This Saturday, I am leaving for a semester abroad in Copenhagen, Denmark. I hope to use this blog to detail my adventures, post pretty pictures, and share some fun sign language videos. Now, I wish I could tell you that I will update all the time. Unfortunately, I am what I like to call a "two-week-wonder blogger". In my attic there are probably umpteenmillion old journals from my childhood. They all have a similar format. Page one: promise to write every single day for all of forever and ever. Page two: a ten page rant, written the following night, about some middle-school heartthrob. Page three: a ten page rant, written six months later, about a middle-school heartbreaker, followed by a promise to write more frequently. All the rest of the pages: BLANK. So, for those who wish to hear about my journey AFTER this two week lizzy + blog honeymoon period ends, I highly encourage some playful facebook heckling. Example: Dearest Elizabeth, update your damn blog and take some pictures, you evil wench. Love always, Annoyed follower trying to Procrastinate on the intortubes right now." I promise that I will *try* to share as much as I can with all of you pretty humans. Thanks in advance for tuning in! With my intentions clearly set forth, let the blogging begin!  




I have been waiting for weeks to make my first post on this bad boy. But, alas, pictures of my shit scattered all over various houses, cars, and apartments is not nearly exciting enough for you fine followers. Today, three days before my official departure date, I finally have something other than laundry, packing, and travel anxiety to share with you: PRETTY DANISH MONIEEEEEZZZZ! For those of you who are unaware, one Danish Kroner is worth about .20 cents US. I have not quite wrapped my head around exchange rates. (One would think, with a sister who works in Global Foreign Exchange, I would have a handle on such things. This is decidedly false.) So, my father keeps having to remind me that although it may LOOK like I am holding a gazillion dollars (that's an exact number), I am in fact only holding a few hundred Kroner. To further squish my gleeful gazillionaire dreams, I am told I must remember that Copenhagen is one of the most expensive cities in the world. Therefore, it would seem that I am holding a mere 5/6 McDonald's meals worth of money, rather than a true gazillion.  Exchange rate = fun spoiler. 


Much like the money in my hands, this trip doesn't feel entirely real, just yet. The packing is very real, if by real, you mean tooooorrrrttuuuuuureee (read that in the most dramatic whiney voice ever). The errands and checklists and laundry are real. (Mara, my mother, would tell you that I am incapable of handling these things. She took it upon herself to separate my laundry into about 92 piles today. Who knew the good ol' lights and darks split was insufficient?) But Denmark still feels like a magical mystery land. I'm half convinced Hamlet is going to greet me at the airport, and I have a hard time not picturing danishes when I try and think about Danes. Yum, apple flavored people! All well, I am sure it will feel more real once I land. I need some new beginnings this semester. Fall semester at the UofR was wonderful, sad, exciting and heartbreaking all at once.  I am hoping that these next few months will bring new adventures. Once I arrive, I will share with you guys a "bucket list" of sorts. I want to get settled a bit before I make a formal list of all of the places I want to see. Spoiler alert: Copenhagen is home to what is currently being called the "Best Restaurant in the World". Nom nom nom nom. 


Next you hear from me, I will be a broad! Er.... abroad. (I apologize in advance for all of the horrible jokes to come. Fall 2011 and the UofR ASL club ruined my sense of humor for ever <3). 


Love you all, 
Lizard