I am home. I sit on my dad’s balcony with a glass of wine in my hand. This is where I live now. My hair’s bleached almost pure white to get rid of the excess green. I have a job in telemarketing that I hate. My friends have been scattered around the country, making it harder to see them spontaneously, but like my family, they’re a lot closer now than they have been for the past few years. My plans to go back to school have been compromised by new laws, so I’m back to square one. Here I am, just trying to make a life for myself in a country that is home, yet seems so foreign to me after a long time on the road. I’m standing still, but constantly moving.
Christchurch, New Zealand and the sky: another chapter in my book of unfortunate happenings
Sydney, Australia, Horsens, Denmark and Alanya, Turkey: Somewhat joke-free post about seeing my friends and family for the first time in ages.
After a year and a half of being away from my friends and family, I am finally returning home for a brief visit.
What’s the worst that can happen when you’re about to embark on a 24 hour long journey? You miss your flight.
Despite numerous checkings, me and my family still managed to think “depature 6 AM” meant “departure 8 AM”. OK, it was mostly just me.
We (my family and I) arrive at the airport at 6.30 to check in, when I notice my 8 AM flight isn’t on the board. I panicked, go to look at another one and then pull out my ticket to realise the sad truth.
I go to a counter and try to get some help. They tell me there’s nothing they can do. All my flights are lost and there’s no way I’m getting a refund. They look into other possible flights, but they are between 10.000 and 40.000 kr (yes, business class is offered) and 42 hours of travelling. I decide to just laughit off and end up finding a reasonable priced flight the next day on Skyscanner. That is until I find a cheaper, shorter trip a few hours later from Copenhagen’s airport.
I try to book the flight from my phone without any luck. I get out my laptop in the car on the way to the train station, but the page comes to a stop right after I’ve entered my credit card details. I reinstall Java and try again. When that doesn’t work, I restart the browser and this time it works, as we’ve been parked outside of the station for a few minutes. Stressful.
We buy a train ticket to Copenhagen leaving in 40 minutes, but when I get to the platform, I realise there’s another train arriving in 8 minutes. I run back to the ticket counter and get the ticket changed and when I get back to the platform (out of breath from running), the train has just arrived. My dad, who’s been guarding my luggage while I was at the counter, practically throws my backpack on the train, and it’s the quickest, least heartfelt goodbye ever before the train doors close and I’m off. Everything that’s happened today ans the fact that I didn’t feel like I got to say a proper goodbye makes my eyes water while I wait behind a group of teenage guys that are taking an incredibly long time to put away their suitcases and sit down. I, a very non-confrontational person, feel like bursting into flames and cry and yell and do everything to show my annoyance with them and with this day. But I wait patiently for them to get out of my way, then I kick a guy out of my seat and sit down and hold back the tears.
2.5 hours later, I am at the airport. Everything is going well, although I have to deal with a super sassy staff lady when I have problems scanning my ticket. By the time I’ve gotten through security, it’s 12 o’clock
And I haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day. I decide to just get something at Joe and the Juice. It’s a super-hipster-green-juice place where they play loud clubbing music, and all the guys working there (there are no girls here) have manbuns and extremely bad attitudes. After a guy yells out my name while handing me the juice, obviously annoyed that he’s living in a world where basic people order juice, I head to the gate.
After a super long flight, I’m in Bangkok and from there, I fly to Phnom Penh. I MADE ITTTT!
Today is my 23rd birthday. This marks the end of my 22 things list, and of course I didn’t even make it to 20. I will cry into my cake later. Just kidding, I already ate it.
So, my birthday started with a night out. I asked out a few of my former colleagues, and we ended up getting pretty drunk, as it was Tequila Thursday, a very honoured tradition by Nanna and me. Nanna and Mikkel were not only nice enough to come out with me, they even bought me a super considerate present:
That’s right, stickers and a giant brown dildo. We tried out a few names, so I’m not sure if it’s Bruno Mars of Chocolate Bent. I might do a poll later. Well, at least I didn’t go home completely alone. EDIT: He now goes by the name Spank Ocean.
I was clearly very excited about my present, just as much as every guy around me. I swear to God this giant Twix bar was only in my possession for 1/3 of the night. This takes me back to the days at The Pink Palace with Aga’s strap-on. Guys will always act disgusted when they first see a giant dildo, but after a few minutes, they’re all about waving it in the air and trying to see if they can stick it to an unlikely surface.
I was home at 2 at night and I started feeling sick. I woke up, hugging 3 full water bottles, because I kept getting up at night to get something to drink, would take one sip and take it to bed with me. I am not very smart when I am drunk.
I took a shower, went out to buy food, watched some Geordie Shore and then went out shopping, where I randomly bumped into some friends. Then my mom picked me up and we went back to her place, where I cooked for my mom’s side of the family. I had a great time, although I was still dealing with nausea and stomach cramps.
Back to the list. If you don’t remember, or have never heard of it before, here it is, with the achieved goals crossed out: