Pomegranates, Oysters, or Just Plain Cheese

The feeling I will savor the most from my twenties is the feeling that I have just cracked the world open like a pomegranate.

Little by little, I have found myself totally unbridled by, well, anything. I have learned that the world is mine to open up, and enjoy the fruits inside. Now, forgive the shamelessly cheesy metaphor, and allow me to explain.

Two Tuesday mornings ago I found myself in a whirlwind of activity. It was so busy that the memories of the day before- sharing a farewell cake with colleagues and packing up my apartment- seemed far removed. This particular Tuesday morning started early for me at 6 AM. I hurriedly dressed and got to work ten minutes before eight. I was going to tour the White House.

My tour mates arrived, and we left our bags at the Embassy (as no bags of any sort are allowed on the tour). We metro'd to the Residence of the President, and as we arrived at the gate and hear the guard ask for identification, it dawned on me. I had no ID. I may as well have been naked.

Causing my two group mates to suffer a minor heart attack, one handed me two crumpled five dollar bills and ran to the street to hail me a taxi. He told me to go back, get my ID, and get right back into the same cab. A true life saver, he was. I hoped in the cab and gave him instructions to the Embassy. I was tempted to follow it with "and an extra 5 shillings if you make it there in 10 minutes!" But I refrained. I had shown enough adolescence for one day.

I managed to make it back to the White House in the nick of time. We made our tour, and my two companions didn't seem too angry with me. The tour itself was gorgeous- a white chocolate White House gingerbread house, floral arrangements, and rich tapestries. But the thing that I will remember most is forgetting my ID, and having someone there to bail me out- someone who knew exactly what to do.

That day held chaos beyond belief, as it was the day of the infamous Christmas Party. I spent all day finalizing guest lists, knocking of riff-raff, and fearing for my life. It went by so fast, before I knew it, I was standing at the door, hair curled, in my new Zara dress, trying not to look cold as I greeted people, one by one.

I could smell the interns as they walked in. The Congressional ones who did not receive and invitation but had fan-dangled their way into our festivities. They wore ill-fitting suits and brought girlfriends in inappropriate dresses. I detest them with every fiber of my being.

But in no way, shape, or form, did that put a damper on my evening. After my shift at the door, I royally enjoyed my evening, walking around like I was the host of the party. Normally this behavior is not exhibited by me, yet, "when in Rome." I bid my farewell to the Ambassador, and even had my photograph taken with him. All in all, a smashing success witnessed by all in attendance.

The evening ended with sorrowful farewells between myself and the diplomats. However, one of them carried on the festivities at the Irish pub down the street. We walked with several Embassy employees down the street where a man from Northern Ireland, in a rather drunken state, gave me a piece of advice I shall never forget. He said, "Katrina...no matter what you do, don't you ever, don't even think about, don't even consider, don't ever let it cross your mind, don't even think about gettin married before you are 25." And you know what? That sounds like pretty decent advice to me.

You know why? Because I've realized in the past year that there are 101 things I want to do even before I turn 22. There are another 101 things I want to do before 23. The world is so full of things to do, and places to see. As of late, I quite literally feel as though the world is my oyster. Judge me if you will, but this sense of freedom has been earned and tested through fire!

From spending a semester in Denmark, and a semester in DC, I have gained a sense of boldness. I no longer believe that things like adventures- or important positions- or foreign destinations- or even love- are just for people more worthy than I. Rather, I can achieve anything I want. The catch is, I have to do it for myself.

But of course, I have been divinely favored. My opportunities are endless, and I am truly thankful for all that I have experienced thus far, and all that I am to experience in the future. I see the world no longer as a piece of solid fruit, but rather a dissected ornament, filled with hundreds of possibilities.

Tough Times

Today was an excepionally rough day at the Embassy. Okay, I take that back, it was actually absolutely fabulous.

I spent the morning attending to my new duties as hostess/gatekeeper for the Christmas party. Everyone has a Christmas tradition, and for the Irish, it is forcing the intern to manage the guest list. But I don't mind. I feel a bit powerful- like a hostess at a very "happening" restaurant. I am an E-Bouncer for party crashers and the uninvitees- all while remaining perfectly diplomatic. I complain because it's the Irish way, but really, I'm loving it. Don't tell anyone.

After a morning of that I prepared questions for a "Pub Quiz" for my students at Janney Elementary School. It was my final day at the school, and I wanted to give them something memorable. So I brought lots and lots of prizes, a trivia game, and my supervisor Deirdre.

At the school, they formed teams and I read the questions out loud. They were questions on subject matter I had taught them in the preceding weeks. Twenty-one questions in all, I asked them about the Irish Government and the European Union. The lowest score was 16/21. That is pretty darn good for ten year-olds. I was proud to see how smart they were, and proud to accept their Thank-You cards, which were both sweet and hilarious. Some were elaborate pop-up cards with drawings of Christmas trees. Others had a Big Red "N" and said "GO HUSKERS!" I found this especially moving. Almost all of them featured the Irish flag. One in particular caught my attention and brought me to tears of laughter.

On the cover, in the somber pencil-writing of a fifth grader, it was written:

"Bye Katrina Maybe I'll see you again"

On the inside, another picture of an Irish flag. And then more writing:

"Enjoy the rest of your life. Have fun in Nebraska."

A picture of two stick figures waving to each other. One saying bye. The other saying have fun.

The words of this child were so final. Enjoy the rest of your life. Even now I'm laughing. These kids were simply lovely.

When I returned to the Embassy, I spent the next couple of hours decorating the Embassy, using materials from giant dusty cardboard boxes. I was joined by my friend Noreen, and later Martina, who brought with her Irish Coffee (to keep in the holiday spirit). It was a marvelous time, just laughing with these ladies and strategizing the decor for a tree.

Although they insisted I go home, that it was past five, I refused them. I wasn't going to have the opportunity to do this at home. Plus, with Noreen (my adopted mother at the Embassy), I felt like I was doing it with my family. That's what Christmas is all about really, just being close to the people who are looking out for you, and remembering that someone has your back. That the people around you care about you.

After visiting the school, and decorating the tree, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I had people who cared about me, and I had shown care for another group of people. I had finally affected something. Finally, I had thrown my full weight at something in Washington DC- and to my suprise- it moved. I have been striving all semester to make some sort of difference, and just now- days before I leave- I feel that sense of accomplishment. And it feels good.

For those of you who were expecting Part 2 of the series, stay tuned. That order is coming right up.

Also, a quick word about the format of my blog. I've thought of changing to something besides black, or adding more photos, or textures. I've thought of making it highly interactive with links and more videos. But when I look at my blog, I like that it is black, and the only light is my words. It is pure, simple, and symbolic. So that is why it is so plain, my apologies to you multimedia freaks.

Ten Minutes With the Intern

Welcome Readers to my blog series entitled:

"A Semester of Dual-Citizenship:
Irish Eyes in the Red, White, and Blue."

Introduction

Washington D.C.’s motto is, literally, “Taxation without representation.” While other states, such as Nebraska, use cheery motto’s such as is “The good life,” DC chooses this somber quip to express to you—from the moment you enter the area, to every time you read a license plate, that D.C is not a happy place.

Washington is a place where people take themselves very seriously. And that is no joke. This social quirk is especially apparent in the MetroRail system. When entering the metro, “standers” will slide to the right on the escalator, and the important people will dash down the steps on the left side. This is how the social hierarchy is established on public transport. The busier you are, the more important you must be. The two are directly related.

The particular thing of this system is that they are not simply “more important.” They are more important than you. These are the key facts for survival in DC.

At times it is hard to believe that these brutes on the metro are the same people who play Frisbee with their dogs in Stanton Square at night before the sun goes down. These people live and breathe according to the two rhythms of DC—very, very fast, and then trying to escape from the monster of responsibility that is their jobs and the city.

Now to give a fair perspective, I must say a word about myself. I am from Nebraska, which recently was named “the happiest state in America.” The reasoning for this? People live within their means. They don’t spend too much, and they aren’t in debt. They appreciate the simpler things.

Last semester, I studied in Aalborg, Denmark, which is, and has been for years, “the happiest place on earth.” Again, the reasoning given? Similarly, people live within their means. They consider everyone equals. In fact, the golden rule of Danish culture is literally “you are not better than anyone else.”

Coming from these happy places, I watch daily as people push and shove, all in the name of themselves. The general vibe of the city is that everyone is looking out for number one. I believe that people come to DC seeking to develop their careers. At the point in one’s life when they come to DC, they are looking for advancement. DC is a city of power, and those who seek it flock here.

Though I am hesitant to admit it, it is the reason I am here. I didn’t come here to help someone, or to raise money for someone else. I am here for the advancement of my career. I am here to build my knowledge of the world, and gain experience. What is wild to me is that I want this so badly for myself, that I am willing to work day in and day out—for free. This is the life of a DC Intern.

News from Lake Washington DC

For those who have waited with baited breath, I have an update for you.

The Christmas Party is back on! Huzzah! After much stress, tribulation, and all-around drama, the Christmas party is a go. As far as anyone has told me. Because, of course, all information told to the intern is subject to change.

In other news, the dreaded strike is over. It lasted one day. I'll tell you what, the Irish have a lot of gumption, but little endurance. Every day I hear more whispers in the hall about another strike, but who knows if it will happen. I might just show up here to the Embassy one day when everyone is gone. If that happens, I will sit at the Ambassador's desk, prop my feet up, and watch Turner Classic Movies and sip on some Jameson.

To come back down to reality for a bit, quite a lot has happened since I reported last.

Last week I was listening to Garrison Keillor on the radio, and at the end of his monologue he said, "just like the weather, you never know what is going to happen next. Just hold on, something good may be about to happen." The next day I got to work and saw an email in my inbox from a woman named Elizabeth. Elizabeth is a linguist who is a member of the Italian Language group I am also a part of. She said that she had extra tickets available to an ice skating show at the Verizon center- featuring: Scott Hamilton, Kristi Yamaguchi, Nancy Kerrigan, and Dorothy Hamil. That was just the beginning of the excitement for me. Also featured: Singers Olivia Newton-John, some others, and DAVID ARCHULETA.

Now, I'm not proud of it, but this weeks has definitely been evidence to me that I have a thirteen year old girl inside of me. I screamed by guts out for this American Idol alum. Also I saw Twilight this week. (Hangs head in shame.)

The ladies I met up with at the Ice event were truly unique creatures. All middle-aged women from DC with seemingly one thing in common- ice skating. But soon we all found much more in common. We all were learning to speak Italian. We were all obsessed with Viggo Mortenson, and all of us lost it when Scott Hamilton did 3- count um- 3 backflips. I ate sticky cotton candy with my fingers and felt maybe even younger than 13. Maybe I felt 5.

All these youthful feelings fled the moment I returned to my internship, where I have spent most of these past days archiving old information to be sent to Dublin. It was a heavy work load, and I became very dusty and covered with papercuts by the end of it all. Now that the heavy lifting is done, I am working mostly on the computer end of it all, organizing the work that has been done by my colleagues and myself.

Between the very young and very old feelings, a day came that reminded me of my true age: My birthday. On Wednesday November 25th, 2009, I, Katrina Powell, turned twenty___ years old. It was freakin fabulous.

I spent my birthday at little hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant at Second and Pennsylvania called La Lomita Dos. The place was brilliant. The walls were mirrors, and the ceiling was dripping with sombreros and confetti. Tacky perfection. My girlfriends and I dressed to the nines celebrated my new year over many, many margaritas (and champagne...and others ;) On the walk home on the abandoned Thanksgiving streets of Washington DC, the ladies and I took pictures in front of the Capitol, and just enjoyed the young night and our young selves. Truly, a birthday to remember.

The next day the same group of people spent Thanksgiving day at my brother's house in Fort Washington, Maryland. When I arrived to their house, they looked as though they had been cooking all night. The food was all laid out, and we had ourselves a wonderful meal with all the fixins. A great success! It was interesting to be in a new city, with new friends, and celebrate a holiday in a very "we are in our 20's" sort of way. I think we managed quite well.

Since I have returned to work I have experience an inordinate amount of disfocus. It is hard for me to look at a computer, and I detest the very feel of the keys beneath my fingertips. So I will make the rest of this short.

The beginning of this week has already made a promise to me that the rest of the week will be very, very busy. Tomorrow I am visiting my Elementary School Classroom on behalf of the Embassy, where I will make a presentation on Irish myths and legends. I am giving them a quiz on the lesson I taught last week, and the student with the highest score gets an Embassy notebook. Don't poke fun at the prize- I literally begged the Ambassador's assitant for one.

Also on the agenda for this week: more work on marketing, a seminar of international climate control, and a reception honoring the World Bank. Let's get this party started!

On a closing note- Recently, I have had to write many papers for my Washington Experience Seminar. Basically, these papers are very structured and thoughtful versions of my blog, so I will be posting those in a series this week. I hope that you will take the time to read them, as I believe them to be hilarious and intuitive.

Whispers and the Rumor Mill

Today has been a day full of shadow and mystery. This morning when I looked out my window, which usually looks out at the Capitol building. But this particular morning, no capitol. My roommate and I freaked out and turned on CNN to see if something catastrophic had happened. Then we realized A) If something had happened, we definitely would have heard it and B) It was an extremely foggy day.

This mystery has just been the beginning of all the questions to be asked today. The second came when a group came in around lunch time. Will they be eating? Will there be food? And, most importantly, will there be leftovers for the intern? I am still awaiting the results of this. They are still in a meeting behind closed doors, and now, I am distracting myself from the hunger by blogging- as the smell of little sandwiches and soup comes wafting up the stairs and through my office door. I can hear the clanging of dishes, and the growl of my stomach. I am ready to eat.

Another mystery involves the event for which I was primarily hired: The Christmas Party. Rumor has it that it isn't happening anymore. Which saddensm me- severly. I am waiting on the word still, and as soon as I find out- I am buying a new dress. 'Tis the season for looking good.

All these mysteries have taught me to ask questions. Is it annoying? yes. Is it nosy? yes. Do I learn something? yes. I'm tired of being the intern who doesn't know a thing, so I've taken the liberty today of walking around and asking people questions today.

This is how I discovered 2 more mysteries. I saw a woman, created name plates. After investigation, I found out there is a dinner coming up. (Which, of course, I am not invited to). So, case opened, and case closed.

The second mystery is a bit more depressing. All the diplomats in the Embassy belong to Unions, and those Unions are almost definitely going to strike starting Tuesday. Which on one hand is great. I won't have to come in to work!

On the other hand, it is very sad. If it lasts more than a couple of days, then Monday could potentially be my last day at the Embassy. I do love this place to pieces. I know it like I know my home, and like it better than my home at 510 C. If they offered me a cot in my office, I would move in right away. So, I do hope that these are not my final hours at the Embassy, as I feel things have just gotten started. So maybe, I will still come into work even if nobody is here.

I have this fantasy that since everyone is gone, the Department of Foreign Affairs calls upon me to do what needs to be done. I will work tirelessly, functioning as a temporary Ambassador- hosting dinners, holding meetings, making phone calls, and toiling endlessly. At only 20 years old, I will be the only non-Irish citizen to be the Ambassador of Ireland to the United States. I could use that on my resume.

In the end, maybe my curiosity and imagination are just me leading to more ignorance and more uncertainty. What will become of Katrina, the Irish-American-Nebraskan intern? Find out on the next edition of "Wanderlust."

He Who Hugs Trees

Today is a beautiful day in Washington D.C., a warm and sunny 73 degrees, with enough of a breeze to remind you that it may be the last of its kind for a long time. The leaves on the trees are falling, some leaves changing colors to match the brick tone of the Capitol Hill row home to which they belong. The whole scene feels like a memory, and throughout the days of rain, occassionally, Autumn brings you a gift like today.

It is on a day like today that you understand the sentiments of a tree-hugger. You see, trees have a certain way of celebrating life in a way which humans strive their whole lives to understand. In the fall, the tree begins to shut off its life force to the leaves, causing them to turn murads of colors before dropping off and dying, to decay as part of the soil.

In this way, trees have a glorious understanding of the seasons. Before dying, they illuminate with color, bringing their best show for the last days, the last days before the long winter cold. If only we could learn to do so. If only we could learn that when times are about to get cold, we shouldn't put out as little energy as required, but rather, we should put our full force and full beauty behind into the days ahead. Because even though there may be a period that we have no leaves, no sun, and no warmth, we have the guarantee of spring.

My Love Affair

English has always had its ways of keeping a leash on me.

It all began when I was seven years old, and my grandmother ordered a set of VHS tapes from A&E television. There were 7 VHS tapes. This set was Pride and Prejudice. It was always tradition that my grandmother would watch movies with me as we drank tea, but this day lasted all night. After being exposed to my first seven hours of Austen, I was never the same.

Throughout high school, my interest in reading always assisted me in English classes, and by the time I was a junior, I was taking English courses for college credit. But to me, it was nothing special. It came as easily to me as anything else, so I thought nothing of it.

I entered college strapped to a hot-air baloon filled with high hopes. I wanted to do something relevant, something practical. For god knows what reason, I decided that physical therapy was probably the best route for me to go. I was always a dancer, and I thought that this might be a good way to keep involved in that. After sessions with people who were telling me about their hospital work, and dissecting a human cadaver in college, I decided that probably wasnt the best route to go.

So I entered University as a Theatre and Communications major. The first semester was one, continuous rehearsal. And one communications class. I spent more time in the theatre building that I did eating, sleeping, bathing, and using the restroom combined. As I fell into bed face first one night it occured to me- I really missed studying. I missed reading. I missed writing. I missed my love affair with Darcy.

It was then I declared my English major. English, like a good man, had always pursued me. Always treated me well, and rewarded me for working. Since the day I declared, I have enjoyed college. I know now the feeling of accomplishment. I know now what it feels like to be good at something. And let me tell you- it feels good.

Last year I had a class on literature of other spiritualities. In the class, students had to write a critical essay on the novel, and post it for the rest of the class to read. Using that pool of papers at research, we would write a comparative essay at the end of two weeks. The other students were reference points. At the end of the semester, an award was given to the student who was most quoted, or most referenced, in the class. It was a class full of all different majors, and I won that award. I smiled and nodded at the professor, but in my head, I was thinking "Wow. This is the proudest moment of my life." I know it was just a token, but to me, it was a victory. It was all the math tests I've failed, all the shows I was never cast in, all the sports I never played. This- this is what it feels like. This is the taste of passion.

From that day I joined the English Honor Society Sigma Tau Delta, and recently I was elected President. Now, I'm not one to "toot my own horn" but I am proud to say now, that English loves me, and I love it for loving me.

But the question is often asked- what does one do with an English major? I only recently discovered my personal answer to that question.

Last semester, I studied in Denmark (the principle on which this blog was founded). During the first two weeks or so, the English of the International students was not at its prime. Nevertheless, Erasmus bonds people together without words spoken. One night I was invited to dinner at my friend Valerio's house. While I was there, Valerio kept holding up objects. A pot. "What's this?" he'd say. "pot. pan. plate. knife" Finally I grabbed some sticky notes and a sharpie, and had the whole apartment labeled. I even drew a poster on the wall of a person, and labeled every body part. I realized then that I had something valuable to him, and it made me laugh with delight to share it. That is when I decided to teach English as a second language.

For me, English is a culmination of everything I have ever loved or pursued. In dance, I loved teaching the younger girls. In theatre, I loved the challenge of presentation. In reading, I loved the profound concentration. All these things combined have created the pinnacle romance of my life- my love affair with the English Language.

Back to Business

Reading through my last blog, I only slightly remember writing it. I apologize for it. It is completely miserable and I will probably delete it.

Meanwhile, I need to get cracking on writing about my actual internship!

Today, upon returning to the office, I found myself thrown into another guest list for yet another reception. Luckily, this time my name was not the RSVP contact, which saves me a lot of time. This is a one-day week for me, and I couldn't be happier about that fact.

So let me allow you to give a mid-term evaluation of myself in this process of my internship. For academic purposes (not narcissim) I will answer a series of questions about my experience thus far.

1. What do your duties include?

My duties this semester have included a hodge-podge of tasks. Mostly, I work as the cultural affairs intern. What this means is that I basically plan parties and attend them. From start to finish, it looks like this. I find out that there is an artist/author/important person coming to the Embassy. I spend some time researching this individual, and thinking about who would most likely be invited to hear this particular person speak. I then compile a list of people I think are appropriate, and my boss checks it and adds her own contacts. I set up and Excel sheet with the guests, and send out personalized invitations to them. From there, I follow the RSVP's. Often the guest 'recruiting process' goes on until the day of the event.
From there, I research more the event and honoree, often creating documents and biographies for the Ambassador to read. I sort of create "cheat sheets" of information, condensing information the best way I can. Often times I am even asked to create "talking points" for the Ambassador.

By the time the event has arrived, I know the occupation and title of each guest, and recognize their names as I greet them at the door. At the event, I am given tasks by the Ambassador's wife or my boss. I try to accomodate this the best I know how.

That is the main part of my job. The other part involves field trips. I am sort of the "about town" girl for the Embassy. If someone needs to attend a conference or luncheon, they send me. From there I take notes and write reports on the event. These always include food, and always, I am the youngest in attendence. Usually I get a nametag that says something to the effect of "Diplomat" which always gives me a little undeserved ego boost.

2. What has been the most challenging part of the internship to date?

The most challenging part of my job is dealing with people under stress. I have learned that when people feel pressure, they tend not to speak or think clearly, and it is then that I become not only an intern, but and interpretor. Between stuttering and yelling, I hear commands given to me that at times make no sense. But I just do what I think I should. I try to follow my instincts on what needs to be done, because quite frankly, no one around me is making sense.

This has taught me that there is a fine line between doing what you are asked, and overstepping your bounds. People have a very specific expectation for your work, and often do not know how to react if it is different than what they had imagined. So, it is a challenge to get enough information out of a boss to achieve what they want, while not being annoying or overbearing.

3. What is the best part of my job?

The best part is the social events. I truly enjoy the people that are invited to these events, and they are always so grateful to be a part of it. When all the guests have arrived, and no one is staring me down, its great to relax and learn all sorts of things from the people that are invited. Also, I have my own office, which is pretty chill.

4. What skills that I have learned here can help me potentially in the future?

I have learned a lot about how things work in an office (especially particular to this embassy). The things I have learned I could only have learned through this long time here- just the general ettiquete of the office- how emails are sent, a whole office working off a shared drive, faxing, copying, etc.

Also I have learned how to balance my life when working a 9-5 job. Often times, it can feel overwhelming, and as though I live at work. I close my eyes at night, and wake up in the office. I have learned how to balance my time, and how to break apart my schedule. I have learned the importance of a social life. It is absolutely nessecary to find time with your friends and relax. I've also learned that if you wish to be productive, home is not the best place to do it. When I am home, time slips by so quickly you barely feel it pass. So in order to make the most of my time, I make sure to balance my schedule so that I have personal time to look forward to, social time to look forward to, and productive times as well.

I've learned that in a world where technology is part of my daily life, it is also important to me to get out and have fresh air, and trees. I think I would die without being in a wide open space every once in a while. (Of course, this pertains more to city life).

5. Do you think you would ever want a career in the Foreign Service?#

After researching the careers of Foreign Service Officers in the US State Department, I can't say that I would want that sort of lifestyle- right now. It seems an awful lot like getting married to the government to me, and truth be told, at 20, I'm not crazy about signing my life over to any one thing right now. However, this may change in a couple of years. I guess I'll just wait and see.


Overall, I am grateful for this experience, but I can't help but feeling a little trapped in an office 9-5. I would much prefer something where I didnt have to report to the same place every day for the same hours. I would prefer something a bit more exciting and diverse, where I could interact with people who are glad to see me. For this reason, I would love to teach English abroad. I'm very good at English (fluent, even) and I've always got such a joy out of teaching. I love having something of value to others, and sharing it with them. It just makes me feel valuable and relevant. Validated, I'd say.

So there is a mid-term evaluation of my internship. Not that you care. And not that you read it. hm.

Smelly

I write this now, facing a broken TV, with a warm water bottle on my head. I have been sick now since Friday. It is Tuesday, and I can't believe how much time I've spent in this stinky apartment.

I haven't ate anything really, just like some bread and a lot of tea. I have a sinus infection, which I just started antibiotics for. So, soon this will all be a memory.

Also, the fridge smells awful. And 2 of my roommates claim to not smell it at all. Meanwhile, I have not ate any of my food lately, because I believe it has absorbed the smell. Even the eggs. This smell has penetrated EGG SHELLS. It is scarring. Tonight, I will make them throw out their disgusting old food. I simply cannot take this madness anymore. Simple as that. I fear a rat has died in the freezer, for the foul stench is not that of food.

This is what has been happening in my life.

Tomorrow I hope to return to work, after a long weekend of not leaving the house. The infection comes at a much needed time, however, as I was about to sink anyways under all the pressure of this internship, my part-time job, and just life's affairs. I feel like life tackled me down right when I needed it to. Not that this sickness is enjoyable. It is not. I want to get out so badly, to just go to the library. I'm stir crazy, and this smell is driving me out of my house, and killing my appetite.

I'm trying to think of positive things to report. Let's see. Thanksgiving is almost here! I have less than one month until I turn 21! Also, next Monday I will be attending a Tea for Diplomats involved in Cultural Education for Elementary School kids. Next week there are also 2 receptions at the Embassy. One for John Girrard, an Irish artist, and one for author Joseph O'Neill. Should be a grand time.

Meanwhile, I am nursing myself back to health, and dealing with being at home, sans television. Hope this blog is finding you better than it is leaving me.

About a year and a half ago, I faced the day where I had to say goodbye to my freshman year of college. I didn't know that day that I would have to say goodbye to some other things in my life too.

The day I moved out of my freshman dorm, I called my boyfriend to help me move the already packed boxes into my car. When he arrived, his eyes were the size of cantalopes and his hands were shaking. I knew then that he had come over not to help me move my boxes, but to move me- out of his life. Looking back now, it was all a bit symbolic. Moving out, moving on.

So, with my heart in pieces on the ground, and my girlfriends surrounding me, I tried to muster the courage to drive back home to Omaha from Lincoln. As I stood outside my door, my friend Kyle Thomas stopped me from lifting what I was lifting. He took all my heavy load, and brought everything to my car. Then it was time for me to go to the car, he lifted me up and brought me there too.

I don't know if he knows how much this meant to me. Or how dear I will always hold that memory. I think some people have it in them to know just what to do, right when it is needed. At that moment, Kyle Thomas was a hero.

And then I think of Max Funkey, scraping the ice off my car at 3 am, because he knew I had to drive in the morning. It was just before Christmas, and again, I was headed home. And without even expecting a thank-you, Max saw me in the parking lot, came out, and grabbed the ice scraper from my hand and started hacking away at the inches of Nebraska ice covered my windshield. Max, he was a hero.

The most recent in my life was sn Italian guy named Andrea, and a Spanish guy named David. Both friends of mine from Denmark. They lived right next to the trainstation, so I stayed at their apartment the night before I left. I was so sad to be leaving. That night, David and Andrea stayed up with me, all night long, battling off the sleep and boughts of sadness. Those last few hours in Aalborg were so surreal. I was able to ward off the sadness, up until the moment I zipped up my bags. Right as the wave of despair hit me, those guys were there. They carried my bags and never stopped smiling. We waited there at the bus stop until the bus came, tears pouring down my face, and they never blinked once. They never made me feel stupid for being so sad. They just hugged me. And waved goodbye. And those are the last faces I saw in Aalborg. The last faces from there I have seen to this day.

And this is the point of the hero- they are with you there, right at the end. While they may not have been the leading men the whole story, at the end, they know how to step in.

I heard a story recently that made all this rush back.

A good friend of mine went through a horrible, horrible situation. Not to invade her privacy, but she was stuck in a situation where she had but one person take care of her. And that one person let her down, gravely.

But then there was a hero. Someone she and I have known since high school. My friend called this guy after maybe years of not speaking. He was located in the same state as her, and was her only hope to get out of this sticky situation. Without question, he came and picked her up. No questions. Just delivery.

What makes a friend a hero? They recognize a call to action. They can recognize hurt. They protect vulnerability. They understand sadness, and treasure privacy. At moments where life has such a propensity to pain, you can consider yourself blessed indeed to find yourself in the company of a hero.

Their sensitivity to the needs of their friends in inspiring, and I hope that, in my years, I can find a way to return all the generosity that has been lavished on me.

Seemingly Insignificant Memorable Moments

For days I have been shivering at the Embassy. I have kept my coat on all day.

Today, I went to the bathroom, and when I returned, a man appeared out of my office dressed in blue jeans. Suddenly I felt the warmth of the heat coming from the dusty register under my window. At last! The heat is turned on!

Every spare moment I get, I just go and stand beside it. And then I realize, I am like my cat. Every year when the heat turns on, she sits on top of the vent on the floor. She hears the heat turning on, and she goes and sits there. Hilarious.

Anyways, today is much more important than the heat turning on! This morning I attended a workshop for the "Embassy Adoption Program" which is a program between the Embassies of DC, and DC Public Schools. The Embassies go into 6th grade classrooms to teach about the culture through music, dancing, food, and language.

I am particuarly excited about this event because I think it will give me good experience for my future career. Since I am interested in International Education, I think this will be great for my resume, not to mention a lot of fun.

So at the meeting, all the diplomats had to go around and introduce themselves (gag). Since I had nothing to say except "I'm an intern," I told the group how when I was in 5th grade, I did a school project on Denmark, and I went on to study there in college. "What you are exposed to when you are a child has a great impact on what your interests will be as an adult" I said. "So, I am excited to be a part of this program." Which is true! But I have to shudder a bit to think of what a Washingtonian I am becoming. Talking about myself, all the time.

Speaking of which, I miss Denmark, and I think I need to shutup about it. I think people are getting annoyed. One of the Danish interns who kind of blew me off at EuroNight was there, and he kind of blew me off again. Nice.

But he doesn't matter at all. For tonight, I am meeting the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Ireland. He's basically Irelands Secretary of State. Basically, Michael Martin is to Ireland what Hillary Clinton is to America. I am very excited about this. I am going to go change into my suit soon, to go over to the residence of the Ambassador, and meet an important person. Life feels....cool.

But I am dreading the walk in the 40 degree weather, where it is pouring rain. So for now, I am going to go warm myself by the heater, and dream of being in my own bed at home, curled up with a cup of tea, and maybe my cat.

Hunger is a Good Sauce

When you ask my parents how they met, they will always tell you the same story. Mom was living in an apartment alone. She met my dad, and when he came over to her apartment, the only food she had in the house was a jar of jam and some bread.

Today I looked in the fridge, and saw I had only 2 pieces of bread wrapped in tinfoil, and a jar of boysenberry jam.

So my dad took her to the grocery store, where he bought her a lot of groceries. He spent so much that to this day I think my mom just might still be embarrassed at the cost.

I think that I get it now- because I understand now why my mom only had jam. She probably was capable of grocery shopping, and probably had a little bit of money that she could have gone out and got something for herself. But I think that her time was too precious. I think that she worked all day, and when she came home, she wouldnt want to cook a whole meal just for herself, when she knew that she would enjoy bread and jam just as much.

When my father came along, he demonstrated a sort of luxury. His compassion and concern in this story is touching. While my mom didn't really care about what she had to eat, it was of great concern to my dad. He thought she deserved more than my mom thought she deserved for herself.

Now, I know I cannot do this story justice. And, Mom, if you are reading this right now, maybe you think I got it all wrong. But the point is, my mom demonstrated to me what it means to be content with what you have. My father demonstrated to me that a good man will make efforts to make your life comfortable, even if you don't think you need it.

When I grow up I want to be in the UN

Today I am sitting at home. My laundry is lined up along the windows, wet, on hangers. Outside it is raining, but my windows are still open, drying the clothes. Kelsey Knutson, my roommate, and I made muffins, and now I am relaxing. It is a wonderful day.

Yesterday I attended a conference in North Bethesda, where I was given a name tag that read my name, and below, a blue ribbon with gold ribbon that read "Diplomat." I won't even lie to you: I wore it all the way home. I also got some freebies: A stuffed camel, an inflatable globe, and an invite to a party. I visited Slovenia's booth, where I was met by two young Slovenian interns, one with a very cool lip ring.

I knew instantly that I must be friends with them. I must admit, however, that my confidence was shaken after the run-in with the Danish interns last week at Euro night. But Jan and Marko proved very friendly, and invited me to a party that night at the Slovenian Embassy.

Who am I to say no to an Embassy party? So I went with my friend Olivia, dressed to the nines, with an Irish flag pin on my lapel. They were honoring a 91 year old Italian/Slovenian artist, whose name I cannot recall. The food and drink was excellent, and it was there that I met the other EURO INTERNS. They came from Finland, Sweden, and Slovenia. At this point I decided that we should form a "Lunch Club." Apparently, there was already a facebook group formed. I was told that they Danish are consistently flaky. Good to know it wasn't just me.

During the night, here is what I learned about Slovenia:
It is NOT Slovakia.
There are 2.5 Million people.
They speak Slovenian.
People like to ski there, but they usually go to neighboring Italy to do so.
The interns live in the basement of the Embassy. (Color me jealous)

After the event, all the "EUROTERNS" took a walk to go the home of the Swedish Ambassador's chef. During the walk, they bragged about knowing every word to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song. And that they did. Unfortunately, later, my toes had an awful encounter with the sidewalk, and they started to bleed, so I had to go home early. Unfortunate. But it was great while it lasted, and I hope to see all those people again for "Lunch Club" soon.

Tonight appears to be equally promising. I met a young person at the Italian Embassy last week, and tonight I am going to grab some pizza with them, and meet some more of their George Washington University friends. Bella Notte!

Like Sam Cooke said, "Change Gon' Come"

Quite the Time in 2009 has been a magnificent journey. But as the time passes, the air cools, and the leaves are changing colors in Washington D.C., I realize that 2009 is rapidly drifting away. Thus, a name change is called for. The new name of my blog will take effect today.

The new name is "Wanderlust." This is derived from the German word "Fernweh" which is literally "an ache for the distance." I think this name suits the blog well. Change is here.

Lots of things have happened in my life lately. Lots of things that are cause for celebration. Every weekend since I have started at the Embassy, I have attended a party. Two weeks ago was a reception for the Order of the Ancient Hiberians, an organization of Irish-American Catholic men. This was at the residence of His Excellency the Ambassador of Ireland. The residence is quite amazing. There is a (very cute) resident chef, and also, a swimming pool. I think maybe I will try very hard to be friends with the Ambassador's wife so that I can go swim in these last few warm days. Though, that scenario is highly unlikely.

I have also attended a press conference, where I was undoubtedly the youngest in attendence. One particular one was an Internet Summit hosted by the FCC. I got so much out of that. And when I say so much, I mean so much free stuff. Lots of sodas were snuck into my backpack that day. I don't know if I have made this known, but I am minoring in "Shameless Thievery." While I definitely had no idea what was going on at this conference, it felt amazing to have people think that I did.

Among my favorite activities since I have started here are the trips to the other embassies. Last Thursday night, I visited the Italian Embassy for an Opera discussion with the conductor of the Kennedy Center's "Barber of Seville." I was invited to this event through my Italian Language Club that I am a part of here in DC. At the event was an artist who takes stories from classic operas and turns them into story books for children. Her speech, though rallied through a translator, was remarkable. She stressed that opera was very important to culture, and it was important to teach children from a young age to appreciate this art form. This is right up my alley. I ate it all up, and I can guarantee that my children will have those books someday.

Friday night I visited the French Embassy for the 2nd Annual "Euro Night." At this exhibition, all EU countries set up booths with food and drink. Then, DC citizens (who spent $25 to get in) could go around and sample regional fare. Before the event started, I stopped at the Danish booth. The guys there were so Danish looking. They were all about my age, clutching Carlsbergs. My-oh-my did that bring back the memories. I found out one of them was from Aalborg, and maybe tried a little too hard to make him be my friend. But my friend request was denied, as I was a little too desperate to acquire a Danish connection.

The rest of the night was a success, passing out Irish cheeses to the masses. A Swedish hip-hop artist played, and the diplomats and I had a good chuckle over the scene of drunken debauchery. So all in all, some bonding going on. Please like me!!!

So that is a summary of what has been happening in my life. I wish I had some keen introspection to offer this week, something inspiring or thought provoking. But alas, I have none to offer at this moment. These past weeks I have been trying to catch up to myself. I am also thinking a lot about the future, and am looking into educational opportunities after graduation. With all the commotion, I and am finding it hard to stay connected with friends as my life is moving 1,000 miles an hour. So I hope that those who care to know about my life can read this blog and take comfort in the fact that I am thinking of you all, and wish the best for you.

Who needs sleep?

I probably shouldn't be blogging from the Embassy, but I have a some down-time, so why not? Especially when I have a hilarious story to tell.

So the other night I woke up my roommate Kelsey because I was screaming in my sleep. When she jumped off the top bunk fearing for her life, she woke me up.

"Kelsey! I just had a dream we were at Ted Kennedy's grave, and these lavender ghosts were chasing us!" Hilarious. Poor Kelsey must think I am insane.

But now, I too, think I am freakin nuts.

Just now I opened my Iphone's notes to add something to a list. Wherein I found a note, created by me, at 3:38 this morning. This is what the note (to myself) said:

NYC orange city clenup.

Good to know. Glad I wrote that down. WTF? Apparently, I had a very important note to take in my sleep. I am so ashamed that I am that type of person.

I LITERALLY make lists in my sleep. While I should seek help about this, for now, I find it terribly amusing. For those of you who are interested, I took a moment to look into the possible meaning of this note. What I can configure is that I had a dream about these things, and felt it was important enough to write down. So, here are some common dream meanings of a) NYC, b) the color orange, and c) "clenup" which I presume to be "cleanup."

A) NYC

The "hub of the world."

1. To be alone in New York City without any friends or companions is symbolic of being totally on your own. Whatever projects or enterprises you're facing right now are likely to have to be done almost entirely on your own.

2. The bright lights of New York City at night, especially if they blink on and off, symbolize an encouraging message that the solution to a problem you've been wrestling with will come to you in a bolt of inspiration.

Hm. Okay, I can live with that.

B)The Color Orange

Orange symbolizes drive and ambition. It is an energizing color often prominent in career dreams.

Satisfactory to me. But what about this cleanup business?

C) Cleaning

To dream that you are cleaning, implies that you are removing some negativity in your life and overcoming major obstacles. You are moving ahead toward a new stage in your life.

So I don't have much time for analysis, I would say that this dream is related to my job here at the embassy. That I am alone, and trying very hard. Which is true. This also tells me that perhaps I shouldn't be blogging at work....bye now!

Friends of the Road

All lonely and huddled up in DC, I decided to get on skype to hang out via internet with a familiar voice- or, um, screen name. A friend and I got to talking about friendship. We talked about the people we grew up with, and how much we feel that we are slipping away from those bonds of friendship. As our lives change, so do our friends. At times, it can seem so sad to leave friends behind, when you were just finally finding someone that you shared something in common with. This got me to thinking about something.

When I was a pre-teen (10? 11?) my mother sent me and a bunch of my friends to a conference for girls, where they talked about all sorts of things. The subjects ranged from exercise to sex to reading the bible. While this memory is foggy, one thing I remember is a talk a woman gave us on friendship. She said there are two types of friends- Friends of the Road, and Friends of the Heart. Friends of the Road are with you for a particular point on your journey, and then get off when it is convenient for them. Friends of the Heart are there for you always.

How much is friendship like being on the metro? People get on and off, some riding with you for a long while before they reach their stopping point. Those people are friends of the Road. But then, there are those who are with you for your full journey. They are determined to reach the same destination as you.

When I think back to the girls I attended the conference with, I try to remember what they are doing now. Once brought together by church, one has moved away, losing touch forever. A friend of the road. One is getting married soon. We don't live in the same city anymore, and although once very close, we don't speak as much anymore. She is starting her life now, and I see that while she rode with me for a long time, she is also a friend of the road.

But then there are friends of the heart. While she never attended this conference, I think of how lucky I am to have my best friend. While we aren't in the same location, I know that she is my metro car with me until the final destination. While we may not sit side by side, I know she's there. And in the end, we'll be in the same place. How lucky am I to have found one friend of the heart.

On skype, our conversation dwindled with a couple of "that's what she said" jokes, and a little grammar discussion. However, I am thinking more seriously now about how times change, and how I should readily accept friends of the road, but also let them go with the same easiness. There is nothing wrong with forming these bonds, and I'm sure that one day, we'll end up in the same place, if only for a short bit. Until then, I look around my metro car of friends, and pray that at least some of them will stay on with me.

FOLLOW UP

Last night I was visited by a mouse.

I am switching apartments this evening.

Anyways,today I began my work at the Embassy. They complained about Romanians taking their parking spots. Which is pretty funny. I like to think of Embassy Row like that part of Disney World that has the different parts of the world showcase. It's like a tiny little World within a mile radius. So I like to imagine I'm traveling through each country as I pass each Embassy.

Wish I had more clever things to say, but all I can think about is how I'm going to decorate MY OFFICE! :) Life is good. Enjoy.

Where is Beyonce When you need her?

So tonight, after a nice milkshake at local "goodstuff" I called it a "goodnight" early.

When I decided to get up and get a glass of water, I discovered a new roommate- a giant roach, sitting on my carpet. The first thing I did was scream. The second thing I did was find a bowl to put over it, and something heavy to sit on top of that bowl.

I called my brother, who informed me that cockroaches can live for months without food. While I still believe this is a lie, it got me to thinking. Thinking about how wonderful it would be to have a man around to take care of those horrid (giant) insects.

In Denmark, I would call on my wonderfully faithful neighbor Timothy Cakebread. But here in DC, there is no such man.

Sure, it is easy to say "I am an independent woman" or to sing the anthem "All the Single Ladies!" But the truth is, it is a lot easier to be a "single lady" when you are dancing in a club. What is harder is this stuff. Killing bugs. Knowing no one within reach is brave enough to help you conquer your fears.

So there it is. A vulnerable side of "Quite the Time." I am learning that there are things that, right now, I have to learn to do myself- And continue to hope that one day, I won't have to do it alone :)

I leave you with a scripture, my brother Zach so artfully crafted for this situation:

"Do not fret because of 'cockroaches' or be afraid of the 'cockroaches' in your room. For like grass, they will soon wither. Like green plants, they will soon die away. Trust in the Lord (and kill the cockroach) and dwell in the "room" and enjoy the safe pasture."

Psalm 37:1- The Bible according to my older brother.

PS- It is 2:30 AM, and the bug is still under the bowl. So if you are reading this, and live in DC, please feel free to stop by sometime this week to help me kill it. After all, I heard they stay alive for months ;)

Why Hillary Clinton Makes Me Hate the Things I Love- The Official Record

So the past couple days I have been wandering the city of DC. Over the course of these adventure, I have found myself twice stranded under some apparatus, trying to keep dry from a storm. This is just one of those stories.

Today I decided that I would go to see the Embassies. My intentions were so pure. So innocent. I wanted to go take pictures of the embassies of my friends countries, so they would know that I am thinking of them, and am always thinking of them. So I packed a sandwich, and brought my Danish flag to take a picture with when I reached the Danish Embassy.

When I made it to the the central location of the embassies, I was greeted with torrential rainfall. I ran to a bus stop, where I sat for 20 minutes waiting for the rain to pass, munching on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Yum. That is all I have had to eat (besides Goldfish crackers) all week. I am extremely bored.

So after the rain passed I journeyed to find the Danish Embassy. I passed every embassy, but had trouble deciphering which country was which, as every flag was drenched with rain, and wrapped around their poles. Every time I looked it up on my IPhone, it said that it could not route me. So I tread on. For one hour. Walking. The rain started and stopped, and soon I was covered with a mix of sweat and rain. Finally, I climbed a tall hill, which was covered on both sides of me by heavy metal fences.

Heavy metal fencing #1: The Italian Embassy. An ugly, ugly building...free from any frills, or really anything to look at.

Heavy metal fencing #2: The Danish Embassy. Side by side with the Italian Embassy. It is unfair to call the Royal Danish Embassy an Embassy. It is a compound. Frustrated with the lack of scenery and the abundance of walking, I waited outside the fence until 2 young Danish girls came out. (On bicycles, of course) I spoke with them a bit, and it was then that they told me I was standing in Hillary Clinton's driveway. Wow. So I took a picture and tried to shake off the bitterness of my aching feet. Apparently, that is why my IPhone was having trouble routing me. They were protecting Hillary, our secretary of state.

Side note: Was it also Bill's house? Are those two actually still married?

So I routed the fastest way I could, with very, very few pictures. So, sorry everyone, I promise I saw your embassy. I just don't know which one it was.

So that was my upbeat message of the day. Hope it gets better.

iPhone- takin it to the streets!

iPhone has made it possible to now blog from anywhere at any time! I'm a real 21st century gal now:)

I am coming to you now from inside the Smithsonian museum of american history. I took the metro here on this ungodly hot day. It has to be 34 degrees, and I am sitting on a bench next to two ladies I believe to be German, but in my heart I keep wishing they were Danish. I've been playing the name that tourist game based on how they dress and act. Turns out Germans are the easiest to spot.

Previous to this, I went to the smithsonian castle, which is a museum about a museum. Lucky me. I'm glad it is free.

Today I hope to see the first ladies gowns and Carrie Bradshaw's laptop. So educated, right? Glad i'm taking advantage of all these educational opportunities. So far, I see Capitol hill and the national mall as a more utilitarian version of Paris. And I don't mean that to sound snotty or in patriotic, that's just the way it is. It was designed by L'Enfant, a French designer, and looks a lot like Paris from the parks to the streets to the homes. However, dc is much more functional. While the mall that connects the Arc de Triomphe to Musee de Louvre is presteen (sp?)and covered in flowers, our national mall is miles of trampled grass and sand. To me, this is very significant to our people. Our mall has been used for protests, rallies, inagurations, etc. The thought of covering it with landscaping would be absurd and indeed short lived.

Basically, I mean to say that wide open spaces can say a lot about the people who live there. Not that one is better than the other.

K gotta go see some Americana stuff now!

The Most Ancient of Human Conditions

Admittedly, I had lofty expectations for a travel blog.

Obviously, I have not fulfilled them.

But let me tell you something- After writing my last blog, I made the decision to absorb all my experiences as the happened. I really learned that travel wasn't about the pictures I took, or what I wrote about. Other people have better pictures, better blogs, and even cooler opportunities.

What was important for me were the things I learned along the way. I began to learn that it wasn't important to have 40 pictures of the Eiffel Tower, but rather, reflect on what I felt about that object, or life, or love, at the moment I encountered these things.

Using the Eiffel Tower as an example- I always saw it as the ultimate symbol of romance. I always used to think about who I was in love with as we sat together holding hands. But what actually occurred was highly more significant to me. I was accompanied half way up the tower with my dear friend Kara Abramovitch from Canada. Then, for a couple of reasons, I went to the top by myself. I feared this situation. I rode to the top, scared of a vision of my whole life alone. Standing in a crowded elevator, (with a broken camera) there was no one to take my picture. Not even one to capture the sunset with. I was suffering from a tourists worst nightmare.

Finally, I reached the top, where I realized I was at the top of the Eiffel Tower- alone. The wind was so cold and I had no coat. While shivering, I thought of my journey here. I had traveled the way from Aalborg by myself. Heck, I had traveled all the way from Nebraska! The sun was setting, and despite my condition, I couldn't help but be in awe. It wasn't just the glowing pink sun, I was in awe this environment. I had an epiphany: It doesn't get any harder than this. I was standing in the exact most romantic spot in the world, and I was there by myself. And enjoying the hell out of it. I was suddenly glad to be without a camera. I have never studied a sunset so closely. Ignoring all the other tourists, I finally felt....focused.

I believe Primo Levi better poetically describes this ideal when he says:

"I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once, to find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions, facing blind, deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your own hands and your own head."
-Primo Levi

So although the Eiffel Tower didn't live out my cheesy romantic fantasy, it provided me with a more important life lesson. That I was capable of anything. If I was in the most notorious couple spot in the world, and I was happy with who I was- just me, Katrina- I could face my future. I could do so much without the nagging fear of being alone. That there is so much strength in being alone. And I don't mean that necessarily in a romantic way. We all seek companionship, but like Primo Levi said we MUST measure ourselves at least once to learn what we are capable of. To learn to feel strong even if we are not. Perhaps that lesson is just as cheesy. I am so grateful to have learned this, even if it means the end of a pretty cool blog.

I hope to start again, I am currently back from Denmark and on "sabbatical" in Washington DC before I start my internship at the Irish Embassy in 2 weeks. During this time, I hope to get a lot accomplished: ride my bike a lot, work on my italian, as well as reflect on the wonderful experience I have had, and dream for the future that lies ahead.

Blanketed in Happiness

Let me begin by sharing a little tidbit I discovered through my good friend Bethany Eckloff:

YOU MUST WATCH THIS! Nebraska was on TV.

http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/index.php?cl=12839723

I ask you at this time to recall the very first post I ever had on this blog:



You know what this means? When I am abroad, I am in the happiest place in THE WORLD, and when I return home, I will be in the happiest place in America. Does this make me the happiest person in the world? Yes, I think it does :)

My happiness is due to many factors, I think. Today, I was thinking, "Wow, I am so blessed." I then began daydreaming, and missed my bus stop, but it was okay, because I was able to communicate with the bus driver in Danish!

Speaking of speaking in Danish, I spoke more in Danish this weekend in Copenhagen then I have my entire stay in Denmark! But more about that later... Next blog :)

I want to tell you now about last week, and all the wonderful things (and not so wonderful things) that happened. First of all, I arrived home from England to find a slip of paper saying that the post office had a package from my grandma! So I took a very long bus journey across Aalborg (almost one hour with one bus transfer!) to the Post Office. It was difficult to find, since it was inside a grocery store. I made it there eventually, and tears welled up in my eyes the instant I saw it. It had the US mail stamps, and my grandma's handwriting. I hugged the package and felt tears just run down my face as I thought of my grandma packing the things into the box and take it to the post office in Ruthven. It was a tad-bit dramatic, I'll admit, but it was so special to me, I didn't stop smiling for hours. In the box was Saltine crackers (YUM!) cookies, scarves, and candy.

After the long Post Office bus journey, I discovered I was only a half hour walk from home, so I did that instead. On my way, I came across a field of horses! Well, there were two. I pet them, and fed them one of the apples from my bag. It was magical, as cheesy as it seems.

The next day, my Italian friend had me and some others over for dinner, where we all prepared our dinner- and got our hands very dirty! We prepared gnocchi, a potato pasta. First, we peeled the potatoes, then we mashed them up using our hands on a bare table. With the mashed taters, each person made a volcano shape in front of then, and cracked two egg yolks into the center. Around the volcano, we put a ring of flour. So then we mixed the potatoes into the eggs, then the flower into the mixture. Then everyone had this dough, and from that, you rolled it bit by bit into thin logs, and cut them off in 1/2 inch sections. From there, we boiled it, and served it with red sauce. The whole process was so fun- putting your hand into the mixture and getting your hands dirty! Also, it was delicious. I would like to make it for my family when I get home, this time, maybe served in a soup? Yum!

While things do make me miss home at times,it's not enough for me to miss out on the good times, like our Kollegium Disco party! I bought a new dress in London for the party (after all, a hostess must be the best dressed one, yes?). The music had a great vibe, and you could do the hustle all night long if you wanted. My room got used a lot to store coats of my friends. There were probably about 200 people that came through the Kollegium, lots of internationals, and, of course, Danes.

This is my British friend, Mark. He really got into the spirit of things.



The next night my friends Marysol and Kara and I went out to Jomfru Ane Gade to dance, and we found a great place where they were playing good American hip-hop. On the way home, we saw an intoxicated Danish mime throw up out the door of our bus. Probably the funniest thing I've seen in my life. Poor mime.

Among the other activities- dinner with my buddy, Klaus, who tried to fix my bike, a dinner at a Danish restaurant called "Huset," a tour of underground ruins of an old monastery, and watching a "football" game.

It was a great week to soak up Aalborg, although, unfortunately, now everyone is going away for Easter, and I am stuck here all alone. I am planning a brunch for some of my friends and I on Easter Sunday, and am looking for a church to go to, preferably in English. It is very lonely right now, only about 10 people are left in the kollegium, but I'm hoping my parents will send me a package soon? (please?)

Other than that, I recieved a job offer this summer from the Lincoln Community Playhouse to choreograph "Thoroughly Modern Millie." I am so torn about what to do. I would like to remain here in Europe for longer, but this would be a resume booster...I don't know. More to come about my trip to Copenhagen!

A little movie after all the reading

A Not-So-Foggy Day in London Town!

Although I have been back from England nearly a week and a half, I must tell you of my experiences before my next travels tomorrow to Copenhagen!

When one travels with my dear friend RyanAir, one must be prepared to take many different methods of transportation! My friends and I left our Kollegium at 5:40 in the morning to catch the bus to the train station. From the trainstation, we caught our bus to Arhus, a town about 2 hours from Aalborg.

Impressions of Arhus: Just a bigger Aalborg? Haha.

From the train station, we took a bus (which took about an hour) to the Arhus airport, which, if you can believe it, is much much much smaller than the Omaha airport! It was in the middle of the country-side, and smelt like cow dung. Yuck! We took a RyanAir (Which is begining to charge people to use the bathroom on the plane, FYI) flight to London Stansted. I hate RyanAir with the passion of a thousand suns for so many reasons, but this was the end of my negative experience.

We were picked up from the airport by Mrs. Cakebread, my friend Tim's mom. We were all very exhausted from our journey, but truly amused when Mrs. Cakebread started driving on the left-hand side of the road! Every time I looked up, I gasped a little, like I was about to be in a car accident. It was funny- all the others kept doing it too.



The ride was beautiful and exactly like I had always pictured and dreamed about- rolling fields of green, dotted with delicate older homes. Occasionally we would drive through a small village and I would just sigh from the disbelief. The English country-side was simple yet stunning.

Mrs. Cakebread (what an English name, eh?) was so loving and kind and simply a wonderful hostess! She prepared a feast for us in her home in Bedford, just north of London. Their home did not have an address. It had a name. "The Poplars." If that doesn't just charm your socks off I don't know what would!



She prepared "Pigs in a Hole," which was Yorkshire pudding with sausages, and this lovely potato dish, I don't know what it was called except heavenly. We devoured the food and she brought out not one, not two, but three desserts! There was a dish of chocolate mousse, a birthday cake for Tim, as well as my favorite- A steaming dish of berry cobbler, served with sweet cream. It was so English and so refreshing!

At dinner we were acquainted to Granny, Tim's grandmother. She was a riot! She is a volunteer for the national trust, and works as a tour guide at a stately home (think Pride and Prejudice) near Bedford, which we visited later that week. She had been so many places in the world and was such a dear woman to us. Another acquaintance which I made was with a Ms. Pimms, whom stole my heart! Tim has a cat (well, kitten rather) named Pimms who is all black and was so sweet, at least to me :) Pimms ran up to me and rubbed against my leg and purrrrred. She is very playful, and got violent with some of the others, but not me. I think cats can sense a good person! It really made me miss my kitty! At night Pimms sleeps in a basket on top of the dryer, and it was too stinkin' adorable for words.



After lunch, we took a train journey to Sheffield, England. This was my first time on a train, and I quite liked it! It was better than driving, and not as much of a hassle as flying. I fell asleep on the train and woke up in Sheffield!

We walked from the train station to Tim's house. And when I say walked- I mean walked. And walked. Tim ( I love you Tim, don't take offense if you are reading this!) told us that his home was only a 10 minute walk. We walked for 30 minutes with all our things- uphill. I was so tired, and just recovering from my fever, and it was THE most physically challenging thing I have ever done.

SIDENOTE: This week I have done something more physically challenging. I went to visit my friend Damiano. When I left home, the sun was just setting, and it was dry. When I left his home, it was pouring rain, freezing cold, and guess what else? Uphill. For 25 minutes. On my bike. It is moments like these that you ask yourself: Is this real? Am I really doing this? It is funny in retrospect. I'm waiting for retrospect. Haha.

Back to my story. We arrive at Tim's home! I won't say a lot about his home, but I think now, any hostel will seem as sanitary as a hospital compared to the town home of Timothy Cakebread. I will always remember the gory details, but I don't want to write them here, and concern my friends and family.

I always find that when I travel, the food is often what I remember, and is so valuable to me in the whole experience. The next part of our trip is definitely one of those moments! In the English tradition, we went to a fish n' chips shop. My mouth is watering now as I think about the delicious crispy, greasy, succulent fish that was drenched in vinegar. It was the kind of fish that will never make you drive through a Long John Silver's drive-thru ever again! It came wrapped in paper and was a perfect experience.



Later that night Tim showed us some night life in Sheffield! We went to a very classy place that was all windows, covered in icicle lights and everything was leather and hard wood. I felt like a mangy college student, in my travel clothes. All the British girls we saw were all about skirts. Skirts, skirts, skirts. I like how feminine and pretty it was, but I can imagine it can be exhausting. Later we visited the biggest dance club I have ever been to. The lights and the set up were very, very cool.

But if I had to sum up my UK night experiences in one word, it would be this : TECHNO. Wow!!!! It's everywhere. And I HATE techno! Luckily, about every four songs, they would play something I could dance to. Even in Denmark, I would just kill to hear some 50 cent, or M.i.a's "Paper Planes." But my attitude needs to change! I need to appreciate the techno. (Vomits in mouth)

Here is the bathroom of the very classy Club: A flat iron that acts like a vending machine!



The next morning we awoke to a bright, shining sun. For the first time since August back in the States, I went out without a coat! The whole time we were there, we were blessed with simply amazing weather. This is very unusual for England, 4 days of sunshine and warmth! We visited a market to pick up some snacks for the day. It was incredibly refreshing to have English labels again! I am used to standing in front of a section at the market for 20 minutes, translating Danish, and studying the pictures on the box. Also, everything was cheaper. So I bought candy bars! I bought 4 of them, and none of them even saw the light of Denmark.

This day was a day of exploring. We saw much of Sheffield on foot, the University, a beautiful park, churches, and, of course, the church of Sherry Dunn and myself: STARBUCKS. I walked in and greeted the worker as though we had been in love for many years and ordered a grande soy caramel macchiato. That is probably the last Starbucks I will have for months, but boy, did I enjoy it!



Later on, the girls I was with wanted to find a computer to check facebook, and I decided to go off on my own. I did some exploring, and of course some shopping, for about an hour. I bought a couple things at a store called "Next." I really loved the things they had in England, they were much cuter than the droll shopping of DK.

On this trip, I really discovered how much I love visiting churches! Very briefly I went into a large church in Sheffield to take a couple pictures. I think churches are beautiful, but unfortunately, you aren't allowed to take pictures in them. This one was an exception, so I took advantage of this.

After my independent explorations, we met at City Hall by these beautiful fountains and a war memorial. We all walked together to an Indian restaurant that was beautiful! I ordered Tandoori chicken, and when it came out, my food had a beautiful presentation, steaming on a skillet, served with a plate of beautiful rice. Definitely the best looking dish on the table. Score!

Again, that night, we visited several more dance clubs, one of which played some good American hip-hop. My friend Terricka and I were all about that, so that night, we had quite a good time dancing! We took a taxi home, we had an early morning ahead of us!

In the morning we took the train back to "The Poplars," in Bedford.



We made ourselves sandwiches, and I took the best shower of my life! We were so dirty from our travels and had not had a proper shower since Aalborg! We all got dressed and fed to prepare for my favorite part of the trip- the stately home!

The name of the home was "Wimpole Hall," and it was described as being one of the smaller homes, and more eclectic. What I saw was nothing of the sort! It seems the original owners had a a gambling problem, and gambled away everything in the home,and then finally the home itself. The latest owner spent her whole life buying antique art and furniture for the home. It was quite amazing to see. It was as though I had stepped back in time or stepped onto a movie set. It something straight out of a Jane Austen novel, complete with many sitting rooms, a ballroom, and a library that took my breath away! It had over 9,000 books, and reminded me of the scene from "Beauty and the Beast" where the Beast surprises Belle with the library. Although you weren't allowed to touch anything or take any pictures, it was a worthwhile experience! The grounds of the home were also amazing. There was a small church next to the home where the family members were buried, and gardens as far as the eye could see. There were many families there, and several of my British friends have told me they recall visiting Wimpole Hall when they were younger to visit the petting zoo! It is a regular mini- Disney!




We were only able to spend about an hour and half at Wimpole Hall, and I really regret not being able to see more stately homes like it, especially if this home- which contained a 3,000 gallon bathtub- was considered small! It really made my imagination go wild- Can you imagine when Elizabeth Bennet first moved into Pimberly? "I'm sorry- my bathtub is how big? Wait, I have a room to write letters in?" Haha. I would really like to return to England in a year or so with my Mom and Grandma to do a tour of many stately homes! I will begin planning it when I return to the United States.

We left Wimpole Hall in quite a hurry in order to catch the train to London. We wanted to see a show on the West End,but by the time we had reached the theatre, the show, of course, had been sold out. There were several shows we considered: Les Mes, The Lion King, and a show which Judy Dench was acting in called "Madame Sade." While I REALLY wanted to see Judy Dench on stage, I knew that the others in my group would probably feel more satisfied with the Lion King. So we waited until the theatre began selling tickets again, and bought tickets for the Sunday matinee.

Wow! They do exist!



We stayed on the West End, Covent Garden, in London to explore a bit and to eat! We became quite familiar with the area and decided we were in the mood for Italian. So, being the resident Italian expert, I took it upon myself to see which restaurant had the most authentic feel, and low prices! We selected this place called "La Ballerina." I absolutely loved it- the decor was Degas paintings and other ballet art. The waiters spoke in very heavy Italian accents- which made me miss my friends so much! After all my language lessons from Renato, Valerio, Sossio, Oscar, and Claudio, I probably could have ordered in Italian, but I chickened out! I did, however, understand a bit of what the waiters were saying to each other. I got pesto with prawns on penne pasta, and it was my favorite meal on the trip. Yesterday, I tried to recreate it on my own- it was a good effort, but didn't match my meal in London. On the way back from Covent Garned to St. Pancras/Kings' Cross (made famous by the Harry Potter series) we took the tube. I kept laughing because the announcer woman kept saying "You are on a Picadilly line to Cockfosters." I imitated this all weekend, I think I annoyed some travel companions, haha.

After our night in London, we were so tired! We knew we had a long day ahead of us tomorrow, so we took the train back to Bedford and went to sleep. Tim's mom had set up a cot for each of us girls, with fresh towels. It was so lovely, and really inspired me to one day be an equally gracious hostess!

We awoke in the morning to, of course, another delicious meal from Mrs. Cakebread before heading back into the city. On this day, I was so excited, and I walked faster than I think I ever have in my life! We came out of the train station- and there it was! The river Thymes! It was unbelievable. I was just giggling a ridiculous amount. From there we crossed the Millenium bridge to see Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. I didn't go inside, it would cost a lot of money, but I know I will be back in London again, and I will go inside, maybe even see a show there!

This is what is so great about sightseeing: When I was on the bridge, I just looked and saw the theatre. And all of a sudden it was like, wow- I've seen so many pictures of this, but that is the real thing! And it was like this for everything I saw.

Here is me on Millenium Bridge, it's early in the morning and very windy, but look over my shoulder! It's the Globe!!




Next we saw St. Paul's cathedral. You couldn't take pictures there, but it was simply stunning. They were getting ready to have service, and there were many, many tourists inside. It was remarkable how even though all that was going on, there was still a strong presence of church, and it was refreshing for the spirit to even be there for just a moment.

From there we saw the Tower of London, which is huge! Also, the London bridge. We didn't go on it- we were doing "London on Speed," so everything was extremely fast! I was amazed at the amount of tourists that were in London- it put Disney to shame, haha.

We walked on to see Big Ben, House of Parliament, and Westminster Abby, which are all next to each other. Again- it's hard to describe the details- just awe. You come out of the tube station- and BAM! There's Big Ben! Your eyes can barely comprehend it. I've had a picture of Big Ben in my bedroom for years. And then- there it was. From there we walked to Buckingham Palace, which was amazing. It was quieter than I expected. Again, dear friends, I wish I could tell you the details of what it was like, but it is so hard to describe what you feel when you look at the gates of the palace and think "This is the gate the queen travels through. This is the gate which all those people laid flowers when Diana died. Just behind that gate, Prince William might just be reading a book, or watching TV." Even stranger must be how they feel when they look out of their window and see foreigners with dropped jaws just staring.

Here is me, being very touristy!! Yes! This is for mom and dad:



From Buckingham we scooted on over back to Covent Garden, where we had tickets to see the Lion King! But first- I had a mission: I NEEDED to shop, at least just a little. So I had 20 minutes before I needed to be in my seat. But I have been trained well by Glenna Brott and Julie Powell, and I did what I needed to do. I went into a couple stores, trying on clothes like the devil was chasing me. At last, I found 2 great pieces that fit me well, and were on sale! I got a really smokin' dress, and an awesome black military jacket. So now I can always say "I got this jacket in London."

I made it back to the theatre in the nick of time. The curtain went up, and by the time the curtain went down, I think I cried about 4 times. The spectacle was amazing- the puppetry, the acting, and the lighting we of a professional quality that I had never seen before! London is famous for the West End, which is of the same caliber of theatre as Broadway. The audience was gasping and "ooooh....ahhh!" the whole time. At the end I was very pleased with the time and money spent to see the production. I cheered for the actors because not only had they done a great job- but WOW, I realized, they were employed by Disney! What a dream come true for them. I have spent the past week listening to the soundtrack, and remembering the magic of the show.

After the show we spent some more time exploring the shops that were still open in Covent Garden, and walked to a traditional British Pub, where they served food such as "blood pudding." I decided, along with the other girls in my group, that perhaps this was more of a spot for the guys! We went to eat Sushi :)

My friend Kara and I being silly at the Sushi restaurant



After eating, we moved to a Pub called "The Shakespeare's Head." Everything in England was Shakespearean, he is one famous Brit! My friend Stacey and I shared this amazing chocolate cake! Soon after we headed home to Bedford, and woke up the next morning at 4 to go to the airport.

Our little adventure had reached an end, which was quite sad. We made it home with some precious purchases, a few more stamps in our passports, and a lifetime of memories!

I can't wait until I can return to England in the future, hopefully next time with my mom and grandma!

Well, I will probably blog again today about this past week at home, it was very exciting! Tomorrow I leave for Copenhagen, and I am really excited. Even now as I think about it, my heart is beating faster- I'm starting to crave travel! I know this will be a great trip since A. I speak the language! and B. The weather will be amazing, and C. I am flying, and not with RyanAir!

Take Care, God Bless, and thank you for completing this Novella of a blog!

Blugggghhhh

So it has been an interesting couple of days in Denmark.

I've been sick this week, and yesterday I went to the doctor downtown. I got medicine, and I know I am beginning to feel a little better. But before that, I was incredibly feverish- hot then cold, hot then cold. Twas a pain in the neck. Not to be gross, but I have sweated through nearly all of my wardrobe, and today, I must! do laundry. I've also had a terrible headache. The doctor said she thought my tonsils were infected. Personally, I think it's just another sinus infection.

The doctor's office was quite an adventure, though. GoogleMaps (grrrr google maps) told me where to go, so I took the bus there and walked where they told me- to an apartment building. I showed a little old lady the address and she told me I needed to walk about a mile down the road. So I did. Worn, weary, and sweaty, I made it to the doctors, where there was a puppy in the waiting room! It was so cute, it really made me feel more calm. Come to find out later that this is the very purpose of these animals. I guess it is common in Denmark to have animals greet, entertain, and calm people in the waiting room. I wish it would have been a cat.... :)

So this is the length of excitement in my world right now. But on Thursday (day after tomorrow!) I will traveling to London and Sheffield with a group of friends. I am so excited to be able to see both the English country-side and the city. However, I can only bring ONE BACKPACK...what is a girl to do?