"the beauteous majesty of denmark" hamlet: iv, v

So tonight we sleep in Copenhagen. Yesterday and today were a whirlwind and I'm pretty pooped. But I'll just take a run through what we've done ...

Yesterday we'd planned on getting back to the sculpture garden but it didn't work out. (Ok, we overslept.) Instead we headed over to the fortress to check out the Royal Castle, the Norwegian Resistance Museum (detailing the Resistance during WWII), and the Military Museum. All in all, the Resistance Museum was the best of the three by far; the care and emotion that had been put into the exhibit really lent something to the experience. In contrast, the castle was pretty much just a castle, and one without much information at that, and the military museum was like any other military museum.

From there, it was time to board the boat to Copenhagen!

The boat took us down through the fjords of Norway, south over the North Sea and into Copenhagen, and it took all night to get there.







On the boat they had a variety of things to keep us all occupied instead of climbing the walls. There was a, uh, DJ in the "nightclub" on the top deck (read: "empty trainwreck"), and below that was the "piano bar" option (read: "desperate smoke-filled room where you could hear phonetically sounded out renditions of "Proud Mary"). And then there was the Columbus Room. The Columbus Room contained a band whose name I sadly cannot remember, but it was something awesome like "Mixed Company" or something. They were playing all the golden oldies to a room full of prancing pre-teen girls and aging couples dancing around their giant handbags. Towards the end of the evening, when there were only about 10 people left in the room, the lead singer pulled out a set of pan-pipes and played "Don't Cry for Me Argentina." The highlight, though, was either when they sang "Billie Jean is Not My Lover," or when, at our request, they begrudgingly played "Waterloo." I sound like I'm making fun, and I guess I kind of am, but on the other hand, I have respect for musicians like that who can play a variety of instruments and a lot of different styles of music. In a way it must be heartbreaking to play a venue like that; like the worst wedding possible times five.

So the next morning when we got up, we were nearly in Copenhagen.



And the rest will have to wait until another post, as it's been a long day .....

"i am sick and sullen." antony and cleopatra: i, iii

This is not what the beginning of a vacation should look like.

So, here's the scenario: It's Monday morning. I'm on vacation for the first time in years. I wake up to discover that the scratchy throat I've been feeling with a sense of dread for the last 4 days has blossomed into a beautiful, chest-wrenching cough. Already pretty awesome, right? Today it's sort of morphed into a coughing-nose-dripping-aching-shoulders mess, complete with a pile of kleenex to back it up.

Well one of the things I promised myself I would do this week was take care of some administrative tasks I've been putting off, and I reserved yesterday to do this. I needed to get a new driver's license, as my New Mexico license had expired. In order to do this, I needed my social security card. Problem is, my social security card went missing somewhere between here and NM or possibly NY. So I knew I was going to have to make a stop at two governmental agencies, and was bracing myself for it.

One of the things I didn't really count on was the weather. There was this "big storm" coming through the region Sunday night. Now, I don't get all up in arms about the weather, because the fact is, I live in a region that is known to get a lot of snow, and I just feel like we should be used to the snow; we work around it, assuming we're not getting like 2 feet of snow with icy particles intermixed. Yesterday we got, like, maybe 2 or 3 inches. That's nothing, that's just a small inconvenience, in my book. You know the storm is coming, set your alarm a half hour earlier, get up and scrape your car and get to work on time. If I wasn't on vacation this week that's what I'd have been doing. Well, I'd have been trudging to an early bus, at any rate.

But apparently I'm the only one who thinks this. The social security office is right around the block from me, and is scheduled to open at 9am on weekdays. So at about twenty past nine, I put on my boots and coat and hat and mittens and trudged down there. There was a line of about 15 people outside the building. I poked my head into the building and asked the security guard if this was the building to get a new social security card, and he said "Yep, but they're opening an hour late today because of the weather; ten o'clock." Now, just for the record, I checked all the closures and delays listings on the local news sites and there was no mention of any governmental offices being closed, so it's not like I didn't do my homework.

Those jerks made us all stand out in the weather that was so bad that it apparently warranted a delayed opening, waiting for them to show up to work. Sooo. Laaaame. Here I was hacking and coughing, meanwhile there's a bunch of people who had to drag their kids with them because the schools were all closed (!), so the kids are all freezing, there's a bunch of old people out there in the line, shivering and huddling together ... it was madness. At one point a security guard came out and asked if everyone was in line for the Social Security office (there are other offices in the building that were apparently open), and upon hearing that we were, he started to close the door, we were like "wait wait wait, aren't you going to let us in, it's nearly ten now!" He actually laughed and said "uh, no." I yelled out "you need to get these people in here; it's freezing and we've got kids and elderly out here!" "Yeah!" some other people shouted. I'm such an instigator. Well it didn't matter because we still stood out there until ten past ten, when the office was "ready."

Surprisingly, though, the rest of the day went surprisingly smoothly. I was in the actual Social Security office for all of 15 minutes. Then, V. and I headed down to the DMV for our drivers' licenses, by bus. The trip to and from the DMV, including the time it took us to get two licenses, took us, no joke, 1 hour, flat. And I should mention that the bus ride was about 20 minutes. My fragile little mind was completely blown.

Anyway. So I did some productive stuff and now I'm laying in bed, feeling crap. I really hope this thing clears up so I can enjoy some semblance of my recreational time. If not - oh well, at least I'm getting to rest.

"this is mere madness" hamlet: v, i

Here's how I know that I'm not quite right in the head all the time.

This morning I text messaged a friend I knew was dealing with something unpleasant. "How're you doing?" I texted.

About 5 minutes later I got a text message back:
"Fine thanks."

And rather than thinking to myself "Oh, good, she's 'fine thanks'," what I thought was "Is she mad at me? 'Fine thanks'? What does that mean? I think she's pissed at me for something. Did I say something wrong??"

I somehow managed to read into the phrase "Fine, thanks." In a text message.

But wait, it gets better:

So this afternoon, I texted someone else. I said "How about a movie tonight?"

Ten minutes later I received the following:
"Sure."

"'SURE'?!" I thought. "What have I done to make him mad?"

I don't know what answer I would have preferred. Maybe "yeah, that sounds fun" would have made me feel less insecure. But I don't know. There's a distinct possibility I would have read something into that too. "'That sounds fun?' I think he's being sarcastic!"

I'm going to go ahead and chalk it up to stress. I'm kind of behind on my homework for school this week, but besides that, I am working on a couple of projects for a benefit gala I'm on the planning comittee for, which I am, of course, behind on (this is me we're talking about here). In addition to that, I am also gearing up to stage manage a monthly show at AS220 called the Empire Revue, and as much as I am looking forward to it, I'm quite nervous as well. Plus I also just became a board member for the All Children's Theater, a group I was a member of all through middle and high school, and so I'm starting to think about all that that will entail. Not to mention that I need to start pulling something together for my school externship, and the fact that the holidays are fast approaching and I am going to get slammed at work here pretty soon.

All in all, I'm not that surprised that my mind is a little cuckoo right now.

Still. I see no need to read between the lines in text messages that are, let's face it, less than one line long. There's no "between" there.

This Australian PSA made me feel a lot better though:

"live cleanly as a nobleman should do." king henry iv, part i: v, iv

That's me passing out from cleaning.

You know, if I would just, say, keep up with things around the house, it wouldn't be like this.

But, as a wise man once said, "I am what I am, and that's all what I am."

I wonder if I will ever be a grownup. All the grownups I know have a place for everything in their houses, or at least, it always looks like they do. Organizational systems baffle me. Drawers always fill with junk, bins are never used for their expressed purpose but instead as catch-alls. I start out with such good intentions; I even buy and read magazines like "Real Simple" and think, yeah, hey, that's a good idea, I should do that! It never happens.

Now the place is pretty clean, pretty tidy, and I have to say, it is gratifying to look at a tidy home. But tomorrow, I'll come home and I'll have something in my hands that doesn't have a place in the house, and it will get put on the counter. Then my shoes will come off, and will stay wherever I was standing when I took them off. Then I'll do homework and when I'm done there will be papers that don't quite make it back into my bookbag. Then it will just snowball. I can promise myself all I like that it won't happen. But it will.

Anyway, it's done now and I can relax.

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It seems tacky to me that someone is already auctioning Anna Nicole's old diaries. I struggled with myself over whether to read the article about it, and in the end, the devil on my shoulder won out and I read it. It was depressing. I shouldn't even be writing here about it. More than anything, Anna Nicole made me sad. She was an easy target to make fun of because she was so outrageous, but most of the time she seemed like she was just crying out for someone to tell her "you're ok."

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Well, it's getting to be yawn-thirty here, so guess it's time to hit the sack. Goodnight, Moon. Goodnight light, and the red balloon.