K-Blog

... my brain can't wrap itself around the fact that everyone around me speak Danish, and that I, who (modest, I know) normally speak very very well and in a very correct manner, am reduced to a spluttering, stammering freak who has not got a proper language.  There is no way I can come up with stuff to cook. My Italian heritage suggest pasta, vegetables and my usual lighter fusion-stuff, but the climate tells me it's time for the heavier soups, pastasauces,  polenta with meat and more meat. None of it makes sense as I cannot shop as usually. I skip the precooked stuff but sorely lacks the basics, the good tomatosauces, the cuts of meat I am used to, the veggies. I know it is just a matter of time and that this will be a lovely challenge to face, to learn to use the lovely Danish veggies, to appreciate the Danish cuisine and hopefully integrate the Italian with the Danish over time. But I still have to put something in my mouth 3 times a day, so I tend to eat a lot of ryebread,

A huge steak and Amarone is a miracle cure for everything.  My throat is sore as hell - I'm very psychosomatic - I have been holding back tears all day so obviously now I'm choking on them. Literally. I needed comfort food so I bought the biggest steak I could find and a nice bottle of Amarone; it's about time I give myself a break. And I haven't been eating all day with all those mixed emotions choking me. I realize this is breaking my heart. I feel torn between my love for Italy and my want for Denmark, for more civilized behavior and  mentality, a bit more order. My love for Italy have nothing to do with logic. I love Italy to pieces even knowing that I cannot live here, cannot endure it anymore. But at the same time the sheer amount of hope, of possibilities that seem to open up to me in Denmark seduces me into believing I can actually live there. Yes, I know things might not be so peachy in Denmark, I know things may have changed, that I see it as the promised land

I am alive, and very very busy. My internet at home isn't working very well, and it just doesn't seem worth the bother to start calling Telecom customer service now. Oxymoron if there ever was one =). Where do I start ? Today is my last day at work- it is hurriedly trickling away through my fingers and I am telling myself it is just work, but I know I might need to cry just a tiny bit tonight when I get home. I am quite tear-prone these days and I have been working here for more than 3 years. I started preparing my departure in earnest on the 1st of September and things have been developing just fine, from my handing in my notice, to the written sorting-out-departure-conditions. I might have found a nice room in Frederiksberg, Copenhagen untill I find my feet and gets around to finding an apartment with my love. I will know tonight and if it *is* the place for me, then I will have a place to send all my stuff to, when I go to the transport-company tomorrow to pick up boxes. The

i thought you were kidding me. Università degli studi di Milano compares the garbino wind to the föhn that induces these symptoms . BBC Weather has this to say about it: It is the name of the wind that blows in the European Alps, but is now used as a generic term for any similar lee wind. It gains its warmth from the air being compressed as it descends down the lee slope of a mountain and historically has been blamed for symptoms such as headaches, depression and even suicide among people living in its path.* *Might I add: ....symptoms such as whiskeydrinking, excessive thinking, insomnia and urges to watch American Psycho for the umpteenth time...

It is yet another one of those hot stormy nights that leave me rest- and sleepless. I still haven't figured out what exactly makes the difference; the direction of the wind, my biorhythms, the cycle of the moon, whatever. Fact is; once in a while I have one of these night. Deep ones. I feel strangely elated as if waiting for something big to happen. I need to feel the weather physically, I seek the open windows, the wind in my hair, the sound of it in my ears. And I cannot distract myself from it; it feels like an enormous force, like something calling me; beckoning me to be part of it. I long to get out in it; to open my arms and feel it. It always happens at night, and I have had these nights for a great part of my life. I have one childhood memory of me lying in my bed, listening to the wind and waiting for that weird blue light you always see in movie-bedrooms but rarely IRL. I have another memory of a friend and I running outside to dance in the storm at night; it was raining

This is mobile blogging and i can't wait to see if it works

As the weekend is creeping closer (c'mon, hurry) I realize I might be spreading myself a bit too thinly this weekend. I spent my evening finding movers yesterday, having a row with my flatmate and I suspect that what I really need is a quiet looooong evening in bed with Lost or a nice book. Instead I found myselv signing up for an evening out with 3 of my best friends, even though I promised my dad to take care of the bl**dy mailserver that ran amok this week.  I promised to go swimming tomorrow with another friend and her family and in the evening I'm off to Florence for a b-day party. I am in dire need of a bit of fun, so I ought to do it all and take a break from the whole moving-thing; I'm thinking about it 24/7 lately.  Actually I've got news concerning work too, but I will tell more when I know more and am certain =). Yet another item off my Tadaaaah!list. So have a nice weekend everybody!

While I take driving very seriously (probably because I don't drive much) I found this video on boardsmag (one of my favourite sources for good ads) to be almost too graphic and violent.  On the other hand, a lot of people have accidents due to lack of concentration behind the wheel, and it might be a good thing if watching this might "scare" somebody into concentration and thus save lives. In Italy people drive drunk, drive texting and speaking on their phones, and they do it as if they were immortal.  You have been warned though; this is *very very graphic*. If you would like to read more about this video, here's the link  *while I would love to show this to my collegues, they would fare le corna ( explanation here under "superstition" and recoil in horror**. **I love the "When confronted with unfortunate events, or just when these are mentioned or suggested, a person wanting to avoid that fate could resort to the sign of the horns to ward off bad l

Ok. So I might have been a tad optimistic there. With good reason though, she told me we were square with this last rent. Turns out we're not; she needs my whole deposit to pay whatever bills arrive once I'm gone. I tried to reason with her; we never paid that much in bills. And it is not like I am going away to disappear forever. Ought to be simple math; I leave her whatever we spend usually and a little more for anything unforeseen. Or I transfer money. She would hear no reason. So I told her to take my deposit and infilarselo su per il culo . I realize I might be a tad on the edge as well, and just a little overworked. But hell. She was my roommate for almost 3 years, and I sort of thought of her as a friend.

ooooh have I been busy these days. I started to make my preparations in earnest on September 1st and I'm exhausted already. My Tadaaaah!list is shorter though: I found the transport company that will ship my shoes, my books, my crystalglasses, my bags and basically everything else I have accumulated in 15 years. They ship once every week, on Thursdays and I can expect my habengut to arrive in Denmark on the following Tuesday. And they will do it for a modest 70 euro per cubic meter. Kind of funny to sum up my life here in cubic meters; but I will =).I found out how to pack my stuff (Vacuum, baby Vacuum) and found the machinery (didn't buy it yet, but I will) that reduces my cubic meters with half =). I dug out my work contract to find out how long a notice I need to give; made the count of dough I need to get, and got a general idea of all the administrative b*ll*cks I need to take care of before I leave. And of course my Tadaaaah!list includes yet another handful of smaller

Can't wait to wear my highest heels in Denmark and not look like a tranny or a freak.