if you could do it over..

.. would you?

I entered senior year with the intent of making the best of everything. To serve my family group to my fullest. To spend crucial time with my friends. To visit Sophie any free moment. To study ahead of time. To work out and eat healthier. To go head-first into my thesis. Ah. My thesis.

When I entered as a freshman, the thesis seemed like such a daunting task. I think it was freshman year, or maybe sophomore year, when I was alone in the computer lab with one other girl who started crying hysterically when she finally printed out her thesis. It freaked me out- but then again I thought I understood why she would feel that way. I blogged about it on my xanga, and I remember saying that she must've been overwhelmed with all these different emotions.

And now I'm a senior, finishing up my own thesis. Well, more like creating-in-the-last-minute. It's Saturday night/Sunday morning, and the paper that is to be the culmination of my four years of academics at Bryn Mawr College is due on Tuesday.

Procrastination is a bitch. Not so much that I'm overly stressed out and pressured to get it done-- that hasn't set in quite yet. But this is obviously not going to be up to par with what I had originally expected from myself. Yea, it's only a paper. But I came into the year actually excited to write it. It started out much more personal than just a paper. But over the course of the semester it turned into the bane of my existence.

I'm tired of procrastinating- in everything. After next week I have only one more semester to make the best of things. That's so weird. I still feel like I'm 17, and I look it too, but in fact I'm turning 22 on Monday and in a week I'll be half done with my last year of my undergraduate studies.

But there's a lot to look forward to after this. I got one more semester with my family group, my friends, to take advantage of the short carride to see Sophie, to do my work. I'm not so sure about working out, but maybe the coming-Jamaica trip will get me to the gym. Maybe I'll better some relationships. Maybe I'll write a children's book. maybe.

I'll probably look at this post when I'm not delirious or sonicflood and think, "wtf." oops. It's 5am.

i witnessed the unthinkable today.

Driving back from Penn, I pulled up onto North Merion Avenue and approached Wyndham to park. There was a white BMW X5 coming towards me, and a golden lab was sticking his head out the window. The car was going slow, thank God, but somehow the dog fell out of the car. He jutted his upper body too far out the window, I guess, and gravity took over and he fell out, hitting his back on a street sign pole and rolling onto the ground.

And I watched the whole thing happen. I braked to a stop and just watched it happen in horror.

The weird thing is, when I saw the dog with his body out the window, I seriously thought, "dude. I hope it doesn't fall out." And it did. It totally fell out of the car.

The lady didn't realize what had happened until she saw my face, I think. Cuz she was madd delayed in her response. She stopped the car and jetted out of her car to make sure the dog was okay. It was kinda sad to watch. but I stayed there in the middle of the street, with two other cars behind me. When I finally felt like it was safe to move up I made eye-contact with the driver and she looked so guilty. Like she knew we were judging her for letting her dog fall out of the car.

The funny part is, the dog was just confused and seemed like it was playing it off. Like a person who falls on his face as he's walking and just gets up and acts nonchalantly like nothing happened. Except it was a dog.

and it's December. crazy.

what?

It's Halloween and only the capies and capie-like girls are dressed up going to class. I just wore my Dr. Seuss tshirt, gapkids zipup, jeans, and a Villanova cap to class. And I stayed awake for ALL of ecology- which was pretty amazing, considering that I haven't been conscious for all of class for about 2 weeks or so.



---



Okay. I just deleted the rest of this post. It was ... frustrating. Just a ranting along the lines of "What is wrong with this world. I look at the news and all I feel is upset and sad." :(

Senior year is not pleasant. High school senior year was a call to paaaarrrttayyyyy!!!! But this is different. Academically, you're wrapping up all of the things you learned- or whatever- through a thesis. And trying to finish up your graduation requirements. Life-ly, you're looking for jobs. Your friends are sad because the job hunt is hard and no one wants a girl from a liberal arts school in the suburbs if they can have someone from say, Wharton, which is 20 minutes away. freakin Wharton. Some friends that are older begin getting married, having kids. Other friends the same age are already engaged or finding that guy or girl that makes their world complete (haha ew). And you're not dating or engaged or married. or jubilantly pregnant. You're nearing the ultimate end of childhood-- even though you're legally an adult at 18 and completely totally independent by 21, you're still liable to be under the financial and responsible care of your parents until you graduate. But once out of school, you have to work. Or get married.

With all that said, it's not terrible. It's pretty intense and scary. I don't feel prepared at all for the world. I did not pick up any practical skills useful for the workplace while at Bryn Mawr. I suck at Excel, don't know how to make something into a PDF, suck at economics, can't solve equations. The most impressive thing on my resume is my stint at EXPLO- indicating that I like teaching and beat out a lot of other applicants for that position two summers ago. But not everyone knows what EXPLO is.

But I'm okay. Maybe because the biggest source of stress is my thesis- it's just a paper ultimately. I'm goin to continue to freak out about it, but I won't die because of it. I say that now but in 2 weeks it'll be a different story. ..

Don't really know what this post is about. But I will end with this:

My hair's grown out a lot.

strong and lonely

A few summers ago I went to the mall with my dad and looked for sunglasses. We were in the sunglasses section of Macy's for 45 minutes before I decided I didn't like any of them. He's the type to look at an item for 3 seconds and buy it on the spot, so the wait and my indecisiveness drove him a little crazy.

He called me today asking if I was okay- if I was lonely. I'd mentioned to my mom during lunch today that I've been feeling a bit lonesome because of work and responsibility and not being with my friends as much as I'd like to, and I guess she told my dad because he called sounding sorry for me. I couldn't help laughing when he asked whether a boyfriend would make me feel better.

"What's your style? Any preferences?"
I don't know.
"Come on Soyeonah. You know- that's your problem! You're so picky that you don't even know what you want!"
Okay..
"I know I've been telling you to be expensive and picky, but I give you permission now to loosen up. You can lower your standards. Remember when you dragged me to the mall to buy sunglasses??? You can't do that anymore- you need to know what you want!"
Okay. haha
"Seriously. Appa will come to your school and we can have a date, get some beers, watch a movie, talk about love, your youth, and whatever."
hahahaha okay appa.
"You're what- 22? You got 8 more years to go. You'll be fine. You're a strong girl- you don't need a boy right this second. But what do you want?"
... He can't be shorter than I am.
"he he he he he. Okay. That might be kind of hard, but I'll try my best."

I guess I really am the one most likely to have an arranged marriage.

I guess the point of this post is that parents are pretty great. They annoy and bother you 90% of the time, but all they really want is your happiness. My parents apparently are so eager for me to be happy, and not lonely, that they'll get the guy for me.

I'm actually kinda nervous that my parents are going to ask me to email some Korean dude in the near future. They've already done that to my cousin. They think what they did for her (not to her) was so great. hahahahaha

faith

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for...

By faith Abel offered God a better sacrifice than Cain did... By faith Enoch was taken from this life, so that he did not experience death... By faith Noah, when warned about things not yet seen, in holy fear built an ark to save his family... By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went... By faith Abraham, even though he was past age--and Sarah herself was barren--was enabled to become a father because he considered him faithful who had made the promise...

All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country--a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.

Hebrews 11.

eclectic

My mom has this obsession with freezing and refrigerating things. She doesn't like things to go to waste so she bags and freezes almost all of our food. Thing is, we don't really eat the leftovers because we forget about them being in the freezer, and it just takes up the shelf-space that should rightfully be holding ice cream and other frozen goodness. But the thing that gets me the most is how she bags and freezes our rice immediately after our first helping of it. I can't leisurely grab kimchi and kim to eat with bap because the bap is always frozen. And I'm too lazy or hungry to wait for the bap to heat up in the microwave so I've been craving Korean food lately.

Waiting for a prescription at Rite Aid I picked up Philadelphia magazine and flipped to the center. The author of the article witnessed the death of a woman in my area and he recounts what happened. http://www.phillymag.com/home/articles/mystery_sideswiped/. Apparently this past April a woman stumbled out of a moving car and she bled from her head and her eyes to death. The divorced mother of two kids, she had graduated from the same school district as I did. Her boyfriend, a D.A. from my county, was driving the car and people who know him say that they aren't surprised that he is caught up in something shady like this. I stood in the middle of the aisle reading this with my mouth gaping. No one at all mentioned this to me. It's a restaurant that everyone goes to; I went in its first week of opening and decided that it's a sham of an Italian restaurant and have never gone back. But we all go to the Rita's right next to it all the time. To think that possible murder happened in the parking lot of a neighborhood restaurant next to a children's destination is so weird. And it's a place where the biggest nuisance comes from cops who like to pull you over for speeding. so weird. I swam in the same pool as this woman in high school.

The cover story of this same issue is about how Philadelphians ruin their kids because of their wealth. Particularly the ones that live in the Main Line area- which is where Bryn Mawr is. These terrible kids are the same ones that students on our campus babysit part-time. It's weird. The highly-paid nannies and babysitters that the articles mention are my classmates. And I almost was one of them- a woman in the voting line in 2004 asked me for my number so I could sit for her kids. She seemed kind of psycho so I deliberately missed her call.

I'm so grateful to ABC for putting their shows online. Ugly Betty is a great show. It distracts me from the crazy amount of work I should be doing. wuteva.

broken hearts

seriously. why all the drama and heartache? what goes on in the brains of those who cheat, lie, and steal?

stop it.

stories

I'm a sucker for stories. There's something about discovering things about other people, fictional and real, and their experiences that captivates me. Not like that's particular only to me, but I'm just saying that I'm a real sucker for them. When I was younger I would read 3-4 books at a time, and I would rotate each book after a certain number of chapters. I read in the dark, crossing the streets in New York, in the car, and in the bathroom. Now as a 21-year-old "adult" I've strayed from reading that many simultaneously, but instead get so wrapped up in the plot that I stay up til 5am reading the latest Harry Potter installment. Thank God there are no more due out because I'd lose too much precious time.

I'm an even bigger sucker for testimonies. It amazes me how personal it allows a person to become in front of an audience of some sort. And it's not for the glorification of the individual giving the testimony-- if anything it shows that bad parts of that person. Rather it distinguishes the way in which the almighty God made himself somewhat tangible and reachable to the guy, the girl, you, me. It blows me away; sometimes more powerfully than others, but I'm blown away regardless. To be honest, the fact that God is not for my own escapes me occasionally and it's pleasantly shocking when I'm reminded that there are others out there who have been offered and accepted the same love and grace as me. But in such different manners. There's that lil kid song that goes "my God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do" (clap clap). And that rings true whenever I hear others' stories. There are the simple "I grew up in church and I just love Jesus" stories, then there are the stories involving gangs and drug use and near-death experiences. There are the miraculous encounters and the intellectual epiphanies that introduced people to the Big Man. And there are the testimonies of after the initial introduction, of times of trial and tribulation, of joy, of abundant blessings and challenges. There are also those crazy missions encounters, where government officials gave people ultimatums but things crazily worked out in their favor.

And there are the testimonies of every day occurrences. Of seeing a baby smile at you without the reason being gas. Of the other car waving you the favor of merging in front of them. Those wouldn't really be referred to as testimonies, but rather they're more generally stories. Little events. But the little events are the things that make up stories and testimonies, and they're essentially the same thing, aren't they. I love stories. I admired, and still admire, the stories of others and the events of their lives that seemed so awesome and exciting. I'd silently envy their amazing lives and cool experiences, and my stories weren't much compared to theirs. My stories didn't seem to compare. Then I embarked on journeys and experiences of my own that I guess others may have envied. But despite my own exciting stories, others' always trumped mine.

It's funny that this summer is the first one in a long time that was supposed to be uneventful. Without any plans, I didn't expect it to turn out so full. Denmark and the rest of Europe's made me see the good in those little things, the boring things like sitting and talking to a Danish man about prisons over tea. I keep referring to how this summer is a quiet and relaxing one, but it's been more than that. There are a lot of stories to it, and I keep thinking of my past ones. And it's so ... humbling. And silencing. And wonderful.

Now if only I could find a way to express and tell them without being boring or sounding too pompous that'd be great.

sugar mama

I like sugar, but I'm not a mama.

Yesterday was a tough day for Sophie. And that means it was a tough day for me. She's teething and has all these skin problems like eczema, and she was so bothered by it all that she wouldn't stop crying. Every time I put her down she would freak out until I picked her up again, and she's not as light as balloon anymore. I was pretty horrible in that I got frustrated with her; somehow I'd forgotten that she wasn't doing it for mere attention--she's a freaking baby and that's what babies do when they're upset about something. I was idiotic in assuming that she knew better and got fed up a few times. Thank God my sister was here to take her. Yea I feel pretty stupid about that. Maybe I've been inside for too long and lost sense of reality. I mean all I have are the internet and cable TV-- but you can only look at hollywoodrag.com and Disney morning children shows and feel connected to the world for so long. She's doing much better today though. She's trying so hard to crawl but her stomach's too big that she stays in one spot flailing her arms and legs without progressing. She looks like she's swimming.

All this babysitting and doing nothing productive this summer has helped me decide that I don't want to settle down. Yet. The summer's going the way that I had hoped and prayed it would go. After forgoing a research grant and grad school, I decided that I was going to do a lot of family and friend stuff. Just to be with people. I haven't had just an extended amount of chill time since 9th grade. Missions trips, jobs, traveling and all that kept me away from home and chilling to the max. So in Denmark the importance of such actions hit me, and I spent a lot of quality down time with the friends that I'd made, and I really looked forward to coming home and doing all the types of stuff that I did while abroad-- to chill. To just take a seat and not rush or force any activity, but to have quality time in all different forms. So I've been babysitting, going out to dinner, watching movies, shopping, beaching, making and sharing Rice Krispies Treats, etc. Doesn't sound too exciting, and it's not, but I really like it. I kinda feel like Eddie Murphy in Daddy Day Care or some other main character of a movie where (s)he returns home from a voyage of some sort. Except I'm not a black male and don't star in a motion picture.

But as much as I enjoy being home and doing all the boring home stuff, I'm getting antsy and want to get out and do all this stuff. I don't even know what I would do- but graduating from Bryn Mawr and getting a job would be nice. Being away from the college has made me appreciate the place more and I'm actually really looking forward to going back. Sure, I have my qualms about returning to the bastion of feminist ideals and liberal education, but they're not the typical ones that others would expect. As ridiculous as it sounds, I look forward to working on my thesis and writing another research paper and taking yet another lab class. When I actually get there and start studying my outlook will have definitely changed, but for now I'm excited. There's so much other crap I'd like to do and get into but the trouble is choosing.. and then the next challenge is to get accepted into whatever I want to do. But I'll worry about that later. But yea. Looking forward to all this other stuff makes me know I'm not ready to settle down. It's almost every girl's dream to find the right guy, live in the right house and have the right children. I'm not any different-- but I can wait a little longer for that to come.

But. What am I supposed to do while people are being kidnapped and shot in foreign lands? What can I do?

whoa i've written on this for two consecutive days

I'm usually too lazy to be diligent - especially about this. But Sophie's sleeping and I don't want to watch TV.

Sophie's my 6-month old cousin. The baby cousin in my family used to be my little sister, who's 15 now, but my youngest aunt had her first baby in January. It's been so long since there was a baby in the family, and they're all bundles of joy. But this one especially is seriously a gift from God in my eyes. Halmuhnee left in September, and it was as if the light turned off on us. It was just so horrifically sad, and when we were together it became even more unbearable. Then came Sophie, and she's a joy. I don't know how else to describe her- just her existence makes me tearfully happy.

I had nothing big planned for the summer, so I babysit Mondays and Tuesdays, and for two different weeks I'm at her house all week. Her dad is like 6 foot something and her mom's my height, but luckily she seems to have been blessed with her dad's tall-genes because she's a really long baby. It's incredible- she was born premature and was the tiniest thing ever (holding her felt like holding a balloon), but now she's so huge and has all these rolls. My right arm feels like Jello from holding her. She loves the mirror- if she's crying all I do is take her into the hallway and her face crunches up into smiles rather than cries. She's on the verge of crawling-- she can quickly turn onto her stomach, but she can't move anywhere. Her arms and legs move as if she's swimming, but her stomach's the only part of her body touching the floor so she doesn't get anywhere unless she rolls. Sometimes she rolls too hard and hits her head and starts to cry. Then I take her to the mirror.

I like babies. But I think my favorite age is around 3-5. That's when the kid is starting to accomplish things for himself, like asking for juice or water and going to the bathroom on his own (semi-on his own). It's when they really start learning skills and manners and they're the most teachable. And they're fun. muahaha. I think I'd be a great aunt. My sisters better have a lot of babies that I can mess with. I'm not sure how I'd do as a mom- but I'm confident in my abilities as an eemo.

I'm not taking payment for babysitting- I just told my aunt to feed me. And she bought all this amazing junk food (Toblerone, Double Vanilla Edy's ice cream, sweet potato chips, Tostitoes, guacamole and salsa, cake mix, cakes) and thus I am screwed. I wanted to look nice this weekend for my other aunt's wedding but I'm faced with all this junk. Delicious junk, but junk nonetheless.

post-Copenhagen

I've been home for over a month now. I can't remember that date that I've been home, but since I got back I've gone to New Orleans, watched my sister graduate, babysat, changed my face, dropped my sister off at Yale, seen my mom off to Korea, and more-- but not in that order. Maybe it's 2 months... It's probably about 1.72 months since I last saw the landmass of Europe.

The contents of this blog cover only the first half of my stay in Denmark. The first two months were rough.. the sun set by 4 pm and it was complete darkness when I got out of class. The weather just added onto other little things and I wasn't the happiest JYA girl. But after the 3 week travel break I felt more like myself. I started this blog so I could write in it often so I would have a record of my experience-- but I got lazy and now I can't remember the stuff that I want to remember...

Alright- I just looked through my pictures and my memory's coming back.. The family and I made our way back to Milano and stayed in a hotel. It was kind of a waste because the place was really nice but we only had time to shower and repack our stuff-- our flights started at 5.30 am the next morning. So our cab driver was really nice and helped us with our stuff- and when there was all this confusion about flights and lines and check-in, he stopped eating his breakfast and ran around the terminal for us, figuring out what to do. With his help we got things situated, and after saying bye I got on a flight to Brussels. There were 10 people on that flight, including me. They stuck me by the bathroom in the back, but it wasn't so bad because everyone was passed out and didn't use it, and I got to spread out and take a lil nap. The Brussels airport was rather lame-- they didn't even sell waffles in there. What's the point of having a lay-over in Belgium if I can't get any Belgian waffles? I settled for a lil sandwich and walked around the hella long terminal a lot because I forgot what gate I was supposed to go to. I got back to Copenhagen, and it felt so strange when I realized that I had missed the city. That relief you feel when you come back to a comfortable place-- that's what I never expected to feel in Denmark, but I was really looking forward to getting back. I took the s-train back to Hoje Taastrup, and I walked into a busy house. Everyone was dressed nicely and preparing all this food. The next day was Easter Sunday, but because my host dad's a pastor and he'd be at church all day, our family was having Easter lunch the day before. So I literally dropped my bags, took a shower, tied my hair, and went downstairs to a 6 hour meal. Danish dinner parties can last from 6 to 12 hours, and Easter and Christmas meals are the most significant. I was running on 2 hours of sleep, and was pretty much delirious by the time I sat down at the table, but what could I do-- it was Easter lunch. We had pickled herring, rodbrod, eggs, all that good stuff. Then the casseroles and frikadeller came out. And the alcohol. Danish schnapps are really strong- and I thought you were supposed to take it in shots. But the parents were like "oh no no no!!!! we want you to live through this meal." It tastes strongly of cinnamon- and it makes you make the "chyaaaaa" noise after a sip. I left the table about 3 hours later, and went to bed at 8pm that night.


The next day was Easter, and the First International Baptist Church that I attended held Easter service in song. A number of people had been preparing a lil concert thing- "something something and the Lion of Judah." and basically the service was the concert. But it was so blessing. Again, it wasn't really my style-- but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Back at school nothing changed much. Criminology still sucked, Modern Scandinavian Literature was boring, Environmental History was confusing to understand because the prof talks in circles with an English accent, and my Danish class was awesome as always. There were more trips though. We read Isak Dinesen's- really Karen Blixen- "Out of Africa" and took a trip to her Danish house. The Danish classes went to the FCK vs. Odense football game. I went to the largest reforestation scheme in Denmark with Env. History-- it's a huge beach and forest along the northern coast of Sjaelland (Zealand).

Karen Blixen's backyard/haven for birds, Karen Blixen in her grave-me-Sam, pregaming for the FCK football game, all those red seats are the opposing team (from another city on Jylland), Tisvilde Hagn - the reforestation scheme, the beach of Tisvilde Hagn, rape seed fields (they're more impressive in person and in other people's pictures-- this is the closest I got to them unfortunately..)





The Queen had her birthday sometime in April, and I went along with the rest of Denmark to wish her a Happy Birthday in the square. The new Danish Princess was born, too. I was getting ready to go to the Royal Ballet to watch "Napoli" when I heard the news that the Princess was born, and at the ballet the Queen was there so it was extra special. But I thought it was kinda weird- shouldn't she have been at the hospital with her family instead of at the ballet? The weather in Copenhagen is absolutely freakin beautiful- the total opposite of the dead winter.

Micro-brewery hopping, Nyhavn, international ultimate frisbee group, Danish class on the way to see the Queen




In Barcelona we met some Germans and immediately befriended them in one day. We stayed in touch and Anna and I decided that we wanted to take a weekend trip and visit them in Konstanz. It's funny- they show pictures of it in karaoke places. You know how sometimes they just random background scenes during a song? There's a lot of images from the Bodensee (Lake Constance). The weekend was a little rainy in southern Germany but it was still a nice time.

The Fall of the Rhein, Old Konstanz, Konstanz City Hall and my pretzel blocking out the person in front of me, playground on the Flower Island, spaetzle and bratwurst, we taught the Germans how to eat apples with peanut butter- and this is our other ghetto dessert with the crapload of chocolate I bought, I forget the name of this one- but a town on the other side of Lake Constance, spaghetti ice, more of the Fall






My Danish class was a total of 12 women- the intensive Danish class. It's better that there were no guys- we got pretty personal in class if you know what I mean. Our teacher's name is Suzanne, and she lives the perfect life that we all imagined her to have. She's like the quintessential Danish woman- she's got the perfect personality and brains, beautiful sons, she loves her job, and US :) She invited us for a dinner party at her place in Holte.





And the last night there was a gathering for our program at "Den Glaede Gris" - "the happy pig." It's dubbed "the american bar" because of how many of us go there. My friend and I ran into another guy that we met at the beginning on the Carlsberg Brewery tour - our going out came full circle.


Caroline- that's our kitchen counter, the movie theater, Anna and Aidan, Denmark Pride



Okay that should be it. Not exactly, but it's a gist.. I've been missing Denmark lately. And the people I met. Too bad the timing was so off.

Now my days are full of baby-sitting, washing dishes, going to the supermarket, doing laundry, and walking my cousin's dog. Life's been boring but it's kinda good. And random stuff comes up all the time. My back is so burnt right now from the beach a few days ago. I need to find a dress for my aunt's wedding this Saturday. ahhhhh

I will try to write more coherent and better-thought out entries from now on. Because I'm taking dna's advice and using this as my nonexistent book.

It's been so long that I forgot where I left off... but whatever.

Barcelona



I know the church is artistic, but I didn't get it.

Anna my travel buddy, Emu and ostrich eggs?, apparently what pregnant women look like, I felt like Ariel in Park Guell except fully clothed and with feet. oh and korean.



This statue was beautiful. Seriously it was.

On Olympic grounds, the only picture of my hosts that I have - the girl on the left Sarah just quit her job that day so she bought us beers on our last night, and the dude's name is Ignacio, paella, one of the many gardens


Florence and Jesus

Genoa, Venice, I don't even need to explain this, hustlers bocciball (spelling? I thought of explo when I saw this)




I've enjoyed myself so much more since the 3-week study break. The break itself was amazing. I traveled to Barcelona with a friend and made friends with some physics majors from southern Germany. We got to enjoy the hospitality of a couple I found on couchsurfing. Our flight to Paris got cancelled so I flew straight to Milan and found my parents after multiple hours of miscommunication and jawns. I didn't think my dad would have internet access but I emailed him in case he would get to a computer telling him that I had to fly into Italy a few days early - which was actually the same day that my parents flew in. I let him know that the hotel I had booked for that night was "Hotel Delmo" because that's what it was called on the website. So my parents called the 4star hotel that we were going to stay in two days later and had them look up Hotel Delmo so they could reach me. But there's no such thing as Hotel Delmo - it's called Hotel Demo and the website just messed things up for everybody. Hotel De(l)mo's internet didn't work so I had to walk around until I found this sketched out PC room, where they wanted my passport to run through their system but I gave them my license instead. I was pretty proud of myself that I thought not to give them my passport. Any normal person would've done that anyway but I was impressed with myself that I did something practical. But turns out my parents were staying in a Holiday Inn and my dad had replied to my email. So I got there and basically missed them by a few minutes- and we ended up eatin dinner 3 stores away from each other. Lots of frustration- mom cried when she saw me in the lobby. Honestly I wanted to cry too but I sucked it up. But seriously, thank God for the internet. Pretty much all of Milan's hotel staff knew of me and my parents because the stuff we went through . geez.

I really like this picture

Slept in Milano the first night. Took a day trip to Genoa the second day. Nayeon came to Milano from Ulm/Stuttgart on the third day. Went to Venice on the fourth day. Got bitten by mosquitos all over my face. Went to Padova on the 7th day, where we then took a cab to Champarsdego to see the baby in concert with her school's orchestra. We actually couldn't get a taxi back to Florence and the husband of the event's organizer graciously gave us a ride in his old van. It was incredible. Florence on the 8th day and took a day trip to Pisa. Left Florence for Milan on the 9th day and got to Milan, where we stayed in the cutest motel thing. Got to sleep for 2 hours then flew back to Copenhagen at 6.30 am on the 10th day. I may have gotten the days messed up but it went something like that.

I got back the Saturday before Easter Sunday, and within 20 minutes after I stepped into my Danish house I had taken a shower and was getting ready for Easter lunch. They fed us so much Danish food and drink, and I thought I was going to pass out I was so tired. Special occasion dinners last forever here.. it can go as long as 8 hours. It's a whole day affair. But I got out of it and went to bed by 9.30. *bliss

Since I've been back I've written 2 horrendous term papers, gone to the Royal Ballet, took a lil shopping trip to Sweden, hung out in Rosenburg Slot, met Australians, eaten a lot of ice cream (soft is = soft ice = tastes like frozen cool whip), gone to a football match, went to Karen Blixen's house, gained more weight, watched Justin's burned movies, and stressed about my senior year. I need to write this so I don't forget it. It's been nice being back, and the weather's absolutely freaking beautiful. The second half has definitely been so much better than the first. But I'm anxious to get home. I feel like I haven't been in Philadelphia for a long long time. Everything's changed in my house, too. I don't even live in my room anymore - it belongs to the baby now.

But I'm excited. YEAAA small room that faces the pool.

k picture time.


David between the Lion's legs in Venice

Jessica and Bria - at Napoli.

Totally legal photography in Venice

Venice - Flying underwear, cellist making love to his cello, Italian munchkin, I ruin everything.



Ridiculous.

the view on the way back to Copenhagen from Milan

Asparagus and Egg pizza

they think they're cute in Pisa. See the un-centered tower?

the Doors.

what an unflattering picture..

Popping out Fiats in Pisa

me, Nikhil and the neighborhood bakery, Napoli ballet