Showing posts from October, 2009

Back on my feet

I have been sick. I am never sick, but when I am it is always due to stress. Nothing new this time around;  I have been stressed and a bit worried about moving here, getting myself sorted out financially, workwise and personally. I already felt tired and wornout Friday (I even missed Kulturnatten =( but I only surrendered Saturday evening, went to bed, overheated and with a sore throat. And I woke up yesterday morning, feeling good enough to get up and lounge around the apartment. Sorting out the last clothes, doing a bit of laundry, cooking a bit of soup and then have frequent breaks and teas.  Today I am totally back on my feet, feeling YEAH and ready to do my try-out-day at work.  There really isn't much more to tell, (and I don't want to jinx anything by telling more, my Italian heritage shows its ugly face =)) - while I do my stuff, you might want to check out my (taaaaaaaaaa daaaaaaaaaaah here) ALLTIME FAVOURITE BLOG: Luxirare . This chick does... magic with food and fash

Tah-dah list

woke up in my own bed, way too early. But I got up, got dressed, had breakfast and followed M to finish and print out applications.  This is not the best part of moving here, I am tired of sitting down  in front of computer to try and sell myself in a language I do not master anymore and much preferred to move boxes up stairs and decorate room.  But I did 8 of them, for jobs I have no experience doing  sent 3 applications and landed 1 interview.** Friday. Wish me luck. * oh and i helped save a kitten from drowning on the harbour. Well. Somebody else got it out of the water, I just took it home and tortured it with a towel.  So much for feline elegance... ** (my first in Dk)


Hvad er en facer ? 

og en anden frakke kan vaere nødvendig*

• Brug af en bomuld bolden dyppes i neglelakfjerner, tør alle gamle neglelak før maleri negle. Vask hænder og lægges i blød i varmt vand i et par øjeblikke.  • Med en orangewood stick, skub tilbage cuticles, så de er alle selv med hinanden, når vandet har blødgøres huden.  • Med søm neglesaks, skønhed saks eller et søm fil, forme dine negle jævnt.  • Med en rolig hånd, omhyggeligt maling kun spidsen af hver søm med en hvid nuance. En anden frakke kan være ønskeligt, afhængig af tykkelse og opaqueness af polsk. Tillad polske tørre mellem frakker.  • Brug en lidt gennemsigtig pink eller nøgen farver, maling hele nail når tips har tørret. En anden frakke kan være nødvendig. Tillad negle tørre grundigt.  • Når alle frakker har tørret, gælder en klar topcoat for at beskytte din nye franske manicure. At forlænge den manicure's levetid, gøre en indsats for at male et klart frakke på hver nat. Vær sikker på, at det er rigelig tid til at tørre helt.  • Hvis du føler særl

Smells like.... Mormor

My staircase smells like mormor. She lived with my morfar here in Frederiksberg. I felt strangely sure about this place, this apartment from the start and I couldn't just dismiss it as a question of taste, (I love these tall rooms, these wooden floors in these beautiful houses, the stucco on the ceilings) it felt like something else.  It just hit me walking up the stairs yesterday; this is why I felt safe here immediately, this is why I trusted my intuition to live here.  My mormor was a very strong woman in a very quiet kind way. She controlled (silently) my morfar totally and he died within a couple of years when she died. I am still convinced he died of sorrow, he had no reason to live when she was not around anymore. He was a loud, bragging, dominating character with a profound passion for food in any form or shape. I am sorry that my passion for food surfaced after he passed away; I am convinced we could have shared some good meals, though his passion was for massive amounts

In love already

I had just the kind of Sunday I dreamed about when imagining coming back to Dk. Slow, lazy Sunday mornings with long coffees, lit candles, John Mayer on the stereo and a fire lit (bonus). Then brother arrived with wife and 2 whirlwind-kids, just happy to see me after the initial disappointment of not having to take a plane to come see me. They brought gifts, homemade chocolate cake, a fave Barolo and a huge plant that I love and then they set off to jump in my bed (the kids that is....). Later we went out for lunch and then footballgame in the Park. I am not much into football, but I am very much into seeing Bro unwind and become totally relaxed, a kid again. His thing, and I sure love to see him do it. I had one to many beers ( but followed the game nicely and at least managed to yell and boo and cheer in the right places for the right reasons =) ) so I walked home afterwards through the fabulous, eternal nightfall that I so love in Denmark. Everything becomes such a unique shade of b

I am not lost. Everything else is

Okay. I have a tiny problem finding my way around. M and I jokes (actually he jokes, I just laugh along as if I find it funny) that if I ever got to Italy in the first place, it was probably because I took a wrong turn somewhere. And that it took me 15 years to come back to Denmark because of my missing sense of direction. Haha, very funny. Anyway. I don't really see this as a problem*. Or maybe I just learned to live with it. Fact is, it is sort of serious. Take two turns right and one left in rapid succession, and now go back to where you started from. I can't. Well, I can if I draw little lines and figures in the air with my fingers and really really concentrate, but it makes my day and feels like a huge victory. So it is *that* serious. If I go for a walk I decide on one of two things to do. Give up trying to find my way around, just enjoy the walk and then necessarily have to ask people for directions to get back to where I started from. Or simply move in one direction onl

Daring parallel

Disclaimer: Nerdy obsessive food-observations follow: I came up with a parallel yesterday that I have been struggling to formulate but just couldn't pinpoint properly. Then I sort of mentally dismissed it as uninteresting stuff (my BF call me nerdy about food and often I shut my trap about my observations), thinking they might be uninteresting to people who isn't so ... obsessed. But then I came upon   Stensamlers tweet and I felt ... comforted. She writes: " de danske sandwiches med alt det der 1000-et-eller-andet-snask, de ALTID putter i ". She lives in Italy (too) but while her observation is almost identical to mine, the parallel I will draw (sooner or later =)) is all mine. Here goes: In my opinion much Danish food is very... abundant in ingredients. My man and I stopped for lunch in a local roadside cafè and ordered the omelette with tomatoes. Nice and simple, I had mouthwatering visions of fluffy eggy omelette, maybe (please please) with small sweet Danish tom