the devil's on your back, but i know you can shake him off.

It's so absurd to think that I've been in Denmark for nearly two months already. Time being a fluid, fickle mistress really rings true here; it's like I've been here forever, and still no time at all. I love almost everything about being in Denmark, and the only thing that really comes to mind that I don't like is my physics teacher. I've managed (somehow) to make really good friends out of many people in my class, and quite a few more who I've met in various other ways - and I'm really not sure how. I only hope the feeling is mutual, and that they don't mind having me around too much. I love my class, and I really feel lucky to have been placed with them, especially as I hear all the horror stories of other exchange students who have had trouble being accepted. I don't know if it's something I've done to endear myself, or if they're really just that kind to everyone, but I'm incredibly happy with my class.

A lot has happened since I last wrote, and I suppose that's why I haven't had the time to update this blog. I've been to Aarhus to visit Jenny again, I've learned to love Aalborg, I went to a party with a few girls from my class. This exchange has been magic. People, before I left the United States, told me that it was a waste of a year to go to Europe when I could be moving on with my life, but if I'd done what they said and gone straight to university, I think I would have regretted it like I've never regretted anything before.

There was a festival in Aarhus, and Jenny really wanted me to see her city during it the last time I visited. I didn't get the chance that time, but this time around, I managed to make the trip to see her. Everybody told me that Danes would be cold, and I've already addressed that I don't think that's the case, but they're friendlier than almost any American I've ever met once they've had a beer. It's really amusing the different stigma that's placed on alcohol here; it's seen as a social tool, something to give a person more confidence and to make them more comfortable in their skin. Juxtaposed with the United States, where people my age are told that alcohol is Satan's right-hand-man, this is one of the starkest cultural differences I've seen. It's not right, and it's not wrong. It's just Danish.

Friday, school was cancelled, so Thursday night I went to a party at my friend Benedicte's. There were only five girls there - myself, Benedicte, and three others named Anne, Frederikke, and Kristine - and it was really something enjoyable. We ate french fries with ketchup (something I didn't realize I would miss so much, when ketchup costs extra from the fries), listened to loud music, and then went into the city. It was the next morning, when I woke up, that I realized that I really feel at home here. Anne told me the other day that she'd heard something from a classmate - "Other than that she can't speak Danish, she doesn't feel American. It's like she belongs here, and that she fits in." That they've accepted me, so totally and without question, is enough to bring me to tears. Everything here just feels right, like I've been here forever without ever having lost the honeymoon period. I've already said this exchange was magic, but it's the truth; thinking about not coming here, now that I have been, is heartbreaking.

Even with all that being said, I had my first breakdown yesterday. I got on the wrong bus after school, and then the bus to take me home was late. I'd had a hard day to begin with, because it was my sister's birthday and I missed her, and it was just the final straw. Nickolai picked me up from the busterminal and drove me home, because he's the greatest friend I could ever ask for, and when I got home I found out that my tutor, who doesn't speak very good English, was upset with me because he couldn't understand why I was late for my appointment. I've never been happier to live with my host family than I was yesterday, because my mom just gave me a hug, promised it would be okay, and called my counselor to explain what had happened and to ask if she could straighten things out with my tutor. It was the first time in a long time that I've cried, and between Nickolai coming to pick me up without me even asking and my mom taking care of me as if I really was her blood daughter, I know that I'll always be safe and looked after here, in one way or another, by people who care about me.

Denmark is beautiful, the people are beautiful, and I still can't ride the bus.

<3
-Lex