Enough about me

Although several family and friends who bother to read this will hopefully enjoy hearing about my daily routine and mishaps, I can imagine (although find it hard) that others will not be as interested.
To add more of a dynamic twist to this ever so exciting blog, I will endevour to evaluate the Danish fashion, something I fell in love with as soon as I was surrounded by danish citizens on the Ryan Air flight.

So at the moment, I notice a lot of wide sillouettes, stripes, skinny black jeans, rucksacks, buttoned up collars, caped jackets, A line dresses, high pony tales, long hair. Guys also wear buttoned up shirts, denim, checked, or block colour. Hair is swept to the side, a moustache is often included if they are going for the hipster look, if not clean cut and very pretty. Bikes are a fashion icon by themselves. Everyone of them is different, mostly vintage, mainly beautifal, always chic. I want one! Back to womanswear, something I no a little more of than bikes, I also notice how sophisticated the cuts are. Everything is minimal. Black, navy, grey, cream are the leading colours. Block colours are kept as blocks and used artistically to create dimension. Unlike London, where everything is placed together regardless of what pattern or shape, here in Denmark everything is meant to be placed - like a jigsaw.

A little breather, ha I wish

So, a week has gone by and no blog posts, why you might ask? Time flies too fast here and my week has been one long blur of 7AM starts, 3PM (or later) finishes and a mixture of coffee, rum and beer in between.
This week I have also been on kitchen duty, as I mentioned in the very first post. What a week that has been. I admit, I haven't taken the role very seriously, which to my housemates means I havent done anything at all. I have had a note on the fridge this week asking the 'kitchen monitor' to make sure that 'the bins are emptied morning AND night... it would be nice'. Meow. I have also been asked by head of cleaning meetings, some anal mature student, whether I swept the floor on wednesday, as it didn't look like I had. Perlease. To top if off, I was greeted mid week with another Kitchen Duty sign, this time one in colour, far more fancy than the hand made one I was greeted with at the start.

In search of a story

So while staying in Copenhagen we were given an assignment, wherby we had to chase a current news story and create an article on it. I decided to go with the recent decission that department store Magasin undertook to stop selling fur in the store. This involved me visiting Anima, an animal activist group - who were passionatly hibernating in an empty building and going to Illum, the other leading department store in Copenhagen - who sell fur, and who told me that British people were hypocrites (Debenhams own Magasin and were responsible for the decision). I was also told I was a hypocrite as I was wearing leather shoes - forcing me to reassure them that I was not a sole representative of the U.K, although my accent states otherwise. I was also told British people were strange by an old lady wearing a fur jacket who I pounced upon to interview - learnt that I should consider changing my voice for the sake of journalism.

Having spent the week working too much and drinking too much, I ended the stay with the last excessive on offer - spending too much. I went shopping in celebration of finishing my report, having finally tracked down enough passionate danes with opinions as big as their capital city - (which isn't actually that big but feels it when you get lost around it, which I experienced first hand). We went to a party in the evening, which was complete with an amazing selection of food. Normally i'd be lucky if a bag of crisps had been opened for guests, we really had hit the gourmet jackpot complete with homemade falafels, pesto, homous and olives. This consumption helped me deal with my cultural experience of snaps - the cheapest drink I could get my hands on in the only open supermarket. It turned out to be a festive drink that most people dread taking shots of at set occasions, the worst of the worst. And there it was, a whole bottles worth for me to endure. It tasted worse than it smelt, something I was warned against from the start. And there was me thinking I had found a bargain.

Copenhagen.

Copenhagen came and went like a flash. The hostel we were staying at was more like a basic hotel, in fact I can definitely say I have been to worse hotels. We were all exhausted from travelling there - 2 buses and a ferry if you please. However, we had an amazing thai dinner that worked its magic and sent everyone to bed by 12.

The next day was full of tourist fun. We went to the palace, which put Buckingham to shame. The guards are dedicated to their Queen and march daily. I got a photo with one, although I felt slightly threatened as not once did he put his gun down - I also had to stand 2 metres away from him. I had showered that morning so took it personally. We then went to see The Little Mermaid, who was very very tiny. While doing these activities, we were accompanied by increasingly heavy snow, that forced us to seek shelter at a coffee shop. We were welcomed by one of Copenhagen's finest residents who told us we looked like 'wet dogs'.

Don't drink red wine

So I had a quiet night in with Amy, deciding against going out, wanting to save my money for the nearby trip to Copenhagen (and god did I need money)! This involved a nice, cheap and cheerful bottle of wine in which my body decided to consume a little too literally. I went home, having been out to the brightly lit laundrette with red wine all around my mouth and teeth. I was wearing black and could have passed for Wednesday Adams, for sure.

Don't say gross

Today I learnt among other things that gross in Denmark is a really insulting word. Don't say it if you want to make friends.

2 hour cleaning meeting

I was supposed to be productive, having had no time to breathe in the last week I had alot to still sort out. Laundry took an hour to work out (it turns out you have to reserve machines here), and any dreams of an early night were dashed with a knock on my door telling me of a cleaning meeting. While cleaning meetings here are nothing too shocking, with most people casually talking about whose turn it is to clean up, my floor decided to take things several steps further and discuss such things for 2 hours. 2 hours of my life I will never get back. We had to vote how many times we should clean each device and appliance. Should we clean the toastie maker more than once a week? Should we all buy a smoothie maker? Shall we keep beer cans in the kitchen or just outside the kitchen? Oh wow, intense does not describe it. I left before it finished, reclining to my room to breathe dusty air. Oh and I forgot to mention the peg rule. If you leave dirty dishes, you must put a peg on them to show they are yours. And theres me thinking they were there for laundry...