Friday, January 22, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I can't even fool myself anymore; shopping is not going to solve my problem. No amount of (new) pantyhose layered under (new) leggings layered under (old) jeans (jeans I wouldn't be caught dead in normally - my skintight beautiful jeans won't ..... contain... all them pantyhose and leggings) can keep me warm. I am layering sweaters (my woollen ones are fine but I wear 3 at a time and I have to handwash them goddammit!) on top of tunikas, tshirts, wifebeaters, turtlenecks ecc. I prepare for bed in the evening, get undressed, and there! In one swift move there's a pile of laundry equal to one washingmachine ready.
I am not built for this climate.
I look (ok, stare) at people (curiously) in buses, trains and on the streets. And I want to rip their jackets open to see what they are wearing underneath. I want to see with my own eyes how the Danes keep warm. I feel like I'm 10 again, and all the girls are in on A Secret and nobody will tell me. What do you know that I don't know???
I have a beautiful wool/silk bomber that has lasted me 7 years in Italy. Admittedly, I own maybe 10 or 15 coats/jackets/trenches/outergarments so they were on heavy rotation - I like to change according to mood and what I'm wearing. Anyway. This particular bomber is not too chunky (not even with 3 sweaters underneath) but very warm. And I haven't been able to wear anything else for what seems an eternity. Today it gave up, with a little ripping sound the zipper gave up and split down the middle. I know already that it can't be fixed; it has been examined and given up on, by one of the finest seamstresses in Florence (the zipper has always been a little... stubborn). It can't be fixed. The silk is too fragile and the zipper is no standard measure.
It lasted me 7 years in Italy and 3 months in Denmark. Might as well chuck it out, but my heart is bleeding. RIP.
Now I have one other option. My beautiful 100% wool (insert italian designer here) jacket. Which fortunately has no zipper that may rip. *Or* buttons actually. Just a belt to ... sort of wrap things up. I might have to invent some safety-pin-system (italian designer crying...) to close it, but then again. It was designed to make me look pretty, not keep me warm. I think I might have to get myself a .... cocoon*.
There is another solution but it will be absolutely last measure.
*and yes I know the obvious solution is a Canada Goose but I can't spend that kind of money right now.
Unless I sell my beautiful 100% wool (insert italian designer here) jacket of course ...
Thursday, January 14, 2010
I sort of waited for things to calm down enough to sit down and write a witty, clever blogpost about coming back to Denmark again, as promised (well the post at least =)). Seems though that things are nowhere close to calming down and I miss writing. I read all your posts but huddle up and hide a bit. Rather be silent than just blurp out some of all the stuff that has happened to me and that is happening. Until now. Things are not calming down (why would they, my life has often seemed a mess) so I might as well write about it. Good ones and less good ones.
For one thing; I found a job.
I figured I might as well combine my love of food and wine with work *and* avoid the inevitable homesickness for Italy. So I made a list of what seems to be the best and most authentic Italian restaurants in Copenhagen, wrote applications, printed, upped and went out to 10 of them. I sent another 8 applications by email, some restaurants replied, some didn´t. I had luck with one of them, landed an interview and a job as a waitress. I worked there for three evenings; I loved the place, the food, the atmosphere but I ended up getting it in the you-know-what. I never knew why, the owner just told me he´d call me back. I am still waiting. One of these days I am going to go say hi with my (biggish) BF, my (big) younger brother and my (huge) cousin. We´ll sit down, eat and have a few glasses of wine. If the owner has the nerve to bring me a bill, I´ll have the nerve to bring out *my* bill for the three evenings´work I never got paid for.
Yeah, right. =). I like to think I will though.
I suffered a few days of disappointment (this is the kind of thing I associated with Italy and that I supposedly left behind, Christ!) and then I picked myself up and started again. Pretty soon I was working again in a lovely restaurant on Frederiksberg (close to home, lovely!). And it worked. I still work there. It has been 2 months now. And they are making me...... TADAAAAAAAH..... personalechef !!! That´s because I am so diplomatic. (I love to say that word in my head, diplomaaaaaddic, in a Texan accent. Their word actually. Diplomaaaaaddic =). I still wait for all of my collegues and the owner to jump out from behind the bar and yell "APRILS´ FOOL! DIPLOMATIC ! RIGHT! YOU! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!.
But seriously; I love it there. It´s hard work but it is *so* satisfying to cater to a basic immediate human need (as opposed to the advertising world) and it is so easy for me to sell, the food is fab and the winelist is endless and divine.
So that´s good. It means that I cook almost nothing, I eat at work but obviously I miss the creative outlet that cooking is to me. I´ll get ´round to that too, soon again.
My boyfriend. It is good to have him around, as opposed to the past year we spent flying back and forth between Italy and Denmark. It is actually good to have him back *again* as
I left him in the middle of December. Bad breakup (not as naughty as some I caused in the past) but it did involve some shouting at an ungodly hour, knocking on the wall by disgruntled neighbours and a lot of crying. I never went back to a guy that I left so we shall still see how that one turns out. We´re still here for now. During the breakup (10 days apart) it was
to have my family. I know mums do this all over the world, and I know they may or may not be right, but my mum saying "He is not good enough for you" is soothing when you´re angry, disappointed and sad for losing your BF. Even if I suspect she's wrong; - I love her for it. My dad is too much of a knudemand to actually say something, but a too-hard-hug and tears in *his* eyes do the trick for me too. My parents and my brothers brought me safely through a Christmas that might easily have been the worst of my life, was it not for them. I love my family so much. And long almost daily phonecalls with my mum and dad saves many a day. It is still hard adjusting here and I still wait for a feeling of belonging here. A feeling that just doesn´t seem to come.
And I still
haven´t made new friends. I talk to my Italian friends, not a lot, but we´re all busy living our now separated lives. I know they´re there for me and I dream of a little trip to Italy soon.
though that I am not feeling too lonely. Again; I have my family, my BF and nice collegues, none of whom are really friend-material, but I choose to see that in a positive way. I am not desperate. And I am not the easiest person to befriend. It will come, I am confident.
Oh and then there´s
I contacted the guy that rented out the apartment in which I rented a room. To ask him whether he would rent me the whole thing. He said yes by email(on the 7th of December) and would send a contract to sign. He did. On the 29th of December; an 18-page contract to look through and sign before the 31th of December. I sat down with my dad (who is very good at this kind of legal stuff) and read the contract through, proposed a few changes that the owner wouldn´t accept. We tried to compromise and tried to meet him halfways but failed. And everything culminated
at 16.00 on the 31th when I was told to get out of the apartment within 2 days. It was too much of a hassle for him, and he had liked me initially because I am such a laidback person. The words of a man that emails me an 18-page contract and expects me to send it back signed within 2 days. I would have to be *stupid*, not laidback to do as he wished.
So I still look for an apartment (anybody know of one ?) to rent in central Copenhagen. A nice little place for me, my books and my fancy stylish Italian heels and wardrobe that
cannot keep me warm in freezing Denmark. I am experimenting with layers on layers, with different fibers, sweaters, ponchos, moonboots, legwarmers, pantyhose (under) leggings under jeans and every possible combination of the aforementioned, but nothing to do. I am freezing.
- *desperately trying to think of a good (and funny) thing about feeling cold. Can't come up with it. Mmmmm. Excuse for drinking loads of rhum in my hot tea ? ...*
Rounding up. It has been a bumpy ride, and I am sure I am not done yet. I'm optimistic though. Things look up and it can't be all that bad, now I have a job.
The mere thought of all of you out there keeps me sort of wondering (in the real sense of the word) while I travel my bike 'round this beautiful beautiful city.
I know I made the right choice coming back and I haven't thought once about going back.