Rounding third and bringing it on home

So it's Tuesday and the weather has taken a serious turn for the worse, making Copenhagen feel like the coastal city it acts like nine months of the year. The skies dark and the wind is blowing in every possible direction, with occasional rain and chilly temperature. It's good timing for me, as I'm in the midst of writing a business plan that comes due Thursday at high noon, and it was practically impossible with the weather we were having last week.

Thursday was the last day of class, and afterwards Pete and I had some work to do. We had arranged and markets an unoffical going-away party for the ISUP students, because many of us will be on our way home or elsewhere by the time the official one rolls around. We picked up ten crates of beer from Lidl, as well as four bottles of the hard stuff. That's 300 beers and enough Fisk, vodka and akvakvit to give a few hippos a good buzz. The party took place in the basement and "backyard" of Kathrine, and we kicked it off around nine. Of course, that means that most people didn't start rolling in until ten. Even then, we were a little worried there was no way we'd get rid of all that alcohol. We were selling beer for 5 kr, or 5 for 20kr, and shots for 10kr, or 2 for 15kr. And free kisses. All great deals. Before we knew it we were handing out beers by the armful, pouring shots, singing songs and making kroner hand over fist. The place filled up quick, and all-in-all some 100+ students came by. We ran out of booze around 2:30, making the endeavor a wild success.

There was one tiny splotch on the evening. At one point, after downing a Snakebite (the Australian method of skulling a beer) I noticed a man in his sixties drinking a beer on the couch. I thought nothing of it, and moved on. The next time I saw this guy, he was enraged, and throwing monkey punches at Pete outside. All said, it took about two hours and four native Danish speakers to get rid of this guy, and by the time he left, he was torn up and apologetic. No one's entirely sure what was going on there, so I'll throw my theory/hat in the ring. This guys lives nearby to this rowdy student-dorm, and has dealt with the loud parties for years. Some time ago, when he was a younger man, he got fed up and crashed a party, found a meaty international student, and threw a right-hook or two. He enjoyed it so much, he made a tradition of it, and has been back every year since. This year, Pete was the lucky guy.

Friday morning Pete and I awoke and cleaned up all the bottles, because bottles are as good as cash in this country. We used the deposits to buy chips, Fisk, and pear juice. Forgive me this tangent. Pete has been obsesses with this inexpensive carbonated pear cider. He simply calls it "pear juice". He's been drinking it all summer, any time of the day, especially in the thirsty morning. I finally caved and bought a bottle of my own, and one night, I was pouring myself a glass, and I noticed this "pear juice" contains alcohol. Not much, mind you, but enough to guaruntee that alcohol remains in Pete's bloodstream at all times. We might run into some dependancy issues by the end of this trip..


So we made the purchase, I ran off to print off one of my papers, and Pete headed to the library to study. It was another warm day, and Abby, Kara and I made our way to the beach for the afternoon. I've seen many terrible tattoos here, and one of the worst was staring me in the face as I made my way to the sea. It was on this guy's back, and simply said "Like I Care." Obviously, he doesn't. After a relaxing afternoon on the beach, I raced back to shower in time for a barbecue at Michael's place in Charlottenlund. Michael's a Viking with it all. Perfect kids, wife, job, cars, house, etc. Josh and Weldon, the two Vikings in Oslo this summer, arrived that day and were at the barbecue with the rest of the crowd...

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That was something of a half-post. It's Thursday morning and finished my papers, and am heading to turn them in within the hour. The rest of the day is booked. I'm hoping to have time in Finland to catch-up on this, but it will resemble something of a skeleton with some loose meat hanging from the bones. So tomorrow morning we're leaving for Helsinki. Of course I haven't packed. Boy do I hate packing. Hopefully report back soon.