Happiness is a warm butt

Greetings from the only warm spot in Denmark. I am currently at school sitting on what I like to call the magic bench. They only heat classrooms and big spaces, here, so finding a warm spot to relax at school is near impossible. Remember all those nice fancy lady clothes I brought? Welp, I haven't taken off my coat in two weeks. Here's to hoping I can dress like a real human when (read: if) it gets warmer. Today, I sat down on a bench and, for a second, questioned whether or not I had peed my pants. MAGIC WARM BENCH. It must have a heater living directly under it (or it is the throne of god). For the first time at school.. my butt is warm. Ah sweet bliss.

It's been a week since I last updated. Remember how I warned of a "lizzy+blog=luv4eva" honeymoon period? To put it metaphorically, Blog and I are on the flight back from Aruba. (Keep heckling me to post, Allison Huberlie!) I promised I would post over the weekend. But Sunday quickly turned into one of those days where you wish the world was 150% quieter, darker, and less-stale booze tasting. Blogging was far less appealing than my pillow. 

Where to start? Classes are going well. Two of my professors are phenomenal. My positive psychology professors name is "Mads", and he looks and acts like a younger, more charming version of Mad Eye Moody. Making all of my Hogwarts dreams come true, one step at a time. Then, we have the terrifying professors. On the first day, my anthropology teacher accidentally touched the wrong button on our smartboard. He then SLAMMED his head against it and yelled (hehem. pardon my french) "FUCKING SHIT I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF!" He is easily the most terrifying man I have ever met. The Danes, as a whole, have a *very* cold, sarcastic sense of humor. They also love to swear in English. For example, you will see a group of Danish teens walking and hear "blah blah blah blah Verstergade godnut tac moar FUCK THAT SHIT MAN." It totally threw me off the first couple of days. I am convinced that my other crazy professor, who claims to be a child psychopathologist, is just a confused alcoholic. She gives directions like "Stand up and walk to the front of the... oh my you're scarf is pretty... tell me your name and then.. the book defines child psychology as... it's cold in here.. nevermind stay seated." I don't think I have heard her finish a complete thought, yet. She does a lot of stumbling around and giggling at herself. Somebody needs to stop pre-gaming lectures. 

My second weekend in Copenhagen was pretty wonderful. I have classes ungodly early all week. Three days a week, I have to wake up in the SEVENS. I haven't seen 7:00am since high school. (Okay, so technically I see it every day of camp in the summer. But that is fake life, where I get to wake up and play capture the flag while dressed like Tinkerbell. It totally doesn't count!) Last semester, I had no classes before 12:30pm, and no Friday classes. Needless to say, having to experience actual morning hours, and coming to the realization that weekends are only two days long has been *brutal*. So, I allow myself to sleep in on the weeekends. Saturday, I kidnapped Kate Mahar for a few hours, and went exploring. We romped around the city, chatting about camp and trying not to freeze to death. Here are some pictures from our journey: 

These photos were taken all over the city. The final picture is perfect, and should be captioned "MOTHER OF GOD MY HANDS ARE COLD." In case you are wondering, it was approximately -2 degrees fahrenheit with the wind chill, that day. Every picture brought to you today was nothing short of an excruciating sacrifice. Kate and I would get to something pretty, rip off our mittens, cry, snap a few pictures extremely quickly, cry some more, and put back on our mittens as fast as possible. Obviously, only very pretty things like Kate Mahar faces merited photographing/torture. My hands were beet red by the end of the day. 

Saturday night was absolutely wonderful. But, the kind of wonderful that makes Sundays really un-wonderful, wonderful. (Sorry, Mom!) I managed to drag myself out of bed long enough to venture over to IKEA for the first time ever. The store was super intimidating, but I finally found some things to make my apartment a bit cozier. I even found TOP SHEETS! The Danes are very fickle with their bedding, so this was a real accomplishment. Even though I wanted to eat that morning just about as much as I want to jump into a pit of knives on any given day, I was SHOCKED by the killer IKEA food. It was also the cheapest food I have found to date in Denmark. I spent the rest of the day in boring paper writing land, wishing I was watching the Superbowl (aka: the animal planet puppy bowl). 

On a more reflective note, I am really starting to love it here. It has taken me a few weeks to settle in. The Netto is still the scariest grocery store ever, and my Danish is still as horrific as ever (How is Vestogade pronounces vest-er-gale, just.. how?!) But, things are becoming a lot more homey. I know my way around a good part of the center city. I have a favorite cafe, bakery, bar, and grocery store, and I even found a way to watch my favorite tv show over here (absolutely 100% legal and not sketchy... I promise)! This coming Thursday, I am going away on my first study tour. I leave ungodly early to tour the Western Denmark countryside. I promise to blog as soon as I get back with lots of pretty pictures! 

Love and miss you all!

Lizard