Velkommen hen til København , Indskrænket Amerikaner

Hallo af København. I have been in Denmark for almost two weeks now and for the first time am getting my lort together to somewhat reflect upon it. The last time I tried this blogging thing was sophomore year of high school, when my e-interactions were still limited to the realm of naUghTieNiKi--yes, with both naughty and Nikki spelled incorrectly--on a pink and green Xanga page on which Hillary Duff lyrics accompanied each entry.

Let the rain fall dowwwnnn...
Anyway.

It still hasn't sunk in that I will be living in this country for the next four months. For now, I feel like I fall somewhere between a glorified tourist and a college freshman. On the one hand, so many museums and cafes and landmarks to see! On the other, so many new bekendte to beruset with! I have decided to do both, and have thus not slept more than five hours a night since getting here.

A few things I've noticed about Copenhagen.

1)Everyone told me it would be ridiculously cold here. It is not. According to my computer, it is currently 34degrees Fahrenheit and slightly sunny (thanks, Google desktop!). The 34 degrees feels about accurate, the slightly sunny is the most blatant lie of all time. It is 5PM and pitch black outside. Copenhagen experiences this bizarre climate phenomenon where there are somehow only 6 hours of light per day in January and 18 hours of light per day come June. Of course, since I leave here in May, this means that I will have to make two drastic changes to my lifestyle.
Drastic change #1: Start drinking at 5pm. Duh.
Drastic change #2: Start tanning frequently. There is a place called SunTan about 2 blocks from my apartment where you insert actual coins into the tanning bed and select a period of time you want to tan. You then buy lotion from a similar coin machine and just enter. No employees necessary. So efficient for the Danes! So terrifying for anyone who has ever seen Final Destination 2, in which freak accidents cause a large object to fall on top of an innocent bronzer in a tanning bed and turn the temperature dial up to ridiculously high temperatures while simultaneously blocking any means of exit. Seriously. Watch this.
Speaking of death by tanning machine, observation #2.

2)Death by bike. The bikers here are intense. You would think getting to work/class/store was an Olympic sport with the fierceness of Danish bikers. This morning while walking to brunch, I was nearly barrelled over by a beautiful blonde pige in 3 inch heels smoking a cigarette AND texting while on her bike. Apparently they do have laws about this kind of thing, but I have yet to see them observed. Admittedly, the barrelling over was probably my fault. Unlike anywhere else I've ever visited, Danes obey traffic signals. Unless you are an obnoxious American tourist, you simply do not cross on red. An odd odd phenomenon for a New Yorker with an authority complex.
2a)There are so many beautiful blonde piges and arbejdsdrengens everywhere! Everyone is ridiculously good looking in a Williamburg-y "I just rolled out of bed and had a Venti triple shot latte with a cigarette for breakfast and then threw on this seemingly non-designer but actually $400 oversized cardigan and I am so much more attractive than you" way. All of the intense bikers have long flowing stick straight blonde hair and almost irritatingly fashionable clothing. I have been overwhelmed with a plethora of large checked scarves, acid wash jeans, and elaborately structured jackets. My Uggs and cardigans are tres inadequate. I want to stop one of the beautiful blonde specimens and ask it where to find a vintage store, or at least a TopShop.

3)I lied. I obviously know where the TopShop is. Although food here is ridiculously expensive (Brunch this morning: 98 kroner salad and 40 kroner hot chocolate. A conversion rate of 5.66DKK/$1 as of 30 seconds ago), clothing is delightfully not. I see udsalgs and slutspurts everywhere I go. As many jokes as I can make about slutspurt meaning "Everything must go," the important thing to take away here is that dressing like a trendy Dane is cheap. I have been checking my debit card balance every morning to ensure the ghetto website that I used to book my flight to Amsterdam this weekend (!!!) isn't stealing dollars and Euro and kroner from my small account and as soon as I can be sure that this is indeed the case, oversized jackets and ankle boots galore!

4)DIS has assigned me a Danish friend. Her name is Louise, and after I post this blog, I must send her an email that makes me sound charming and interested. Maybe Louise and I can go shopping.

5)DIS has actually been really helpful in assisting us all in the adjustment phase. We had a beautiful welcoming ceremony and received thousands of trees worth of maps and booklets within the first few hours of landing. Our Danish contact people, sort of like fun RAs, have planned all sorts of stuff from us ranging to vomit inducing Chinese buffet to extremely fun pub crawl and highly anticipated ice skating extravaganza. They also offer a wide variety of extracurricular activities: I signed up for yoga classes every Monday night and volunteering every Wednesday afternoon and intend to attend every optional tour thrown my way.

6)Our volunteering staff persons asked us to describe some of the differences between Denmark and the US yesterday in class and although I've found there to be several (extreme bluntness, complete lack of obesity, even fuller complete lack of bureaucracy--it took me just over 90 seconds to receive my Danish residency permit yesterday--which includes not only health insurance but also wireless access at the city libraries--this is such a run on sentence Ms.Eisner would pull out my fingernails--) cultural differences, it's funny what does transfer over. For example, the deli/market/midnight snack venue of choice here is not called Skøllemøvallinøvich but 711. Nothing like the 711 in the states, which offers a meager selection of chips and sodas, but a gourmet market with coffee machines that create a cafe con leche or frapuccino at the click of a button, have a full hot dog and croissant display, and sell both vodka and wine by the bottle. Alcohol is another thing that fails to be lost in translation. Yesterday we arrived at the Netto, another popular market option here in the Cope, at 7:59--one minute before closing. At first, it seemed as if the attractive Dane at the register wouldn't let us in, but when I informed him that we just wanted wine he smiled warmly and opened the glass doors.

7)I have never been this interested in my classes before. Not only are the subjects fascinating (Marketing and Branding Field Project! Russia Past and Present! Creative Industries with hottie van hottsen!) but the professors are so overqualified. My News Media in Transition professor used to be the News Desk Editor at TIME Magazine, my Service Learning teachers were in the Peace Corps together, my Marketing teacher owns a small international company. The teachers at DIS are all professionals so interested in their field that they have decided to teach silly Americas to be as intelligent and successful as them. Furthermore, they all have ridiculously adorable accents that I only dislike when they are trying to pronounce my last name. Bugoopoolooskeeyuh?

In summary. I like it here. Classes are great. Danes are hot, and enjoy drinking. DIS is helpful. I plan to expand my wardrobe with patterned dresses and my stomach with croissants and hot dogrs. I promise never to write this long a post again.

I'm coming, I'm coming cleaaaannnnnn.....