Sorry Guys, ’tis the season for cheesy post titles, and it IS Christmas… at least my bank account is telling me it is.

Christmas has come quickly this year, don’t you think? It feels like December has just flown by, and now here we are, Christmas is closing in on us, and then within the blink of an eye it’s over and that was it, and we’ll pack down the ornaments and put away our decorations and take down the tree and feel as deflated as those horrendous blow-up Snowmen and Santas people put on their porches.

It’s funny, because Christmas seems to be a really stressful holiday for everybody here in Denmark. Everyone I have talked to has referred to it as being a major stress factor, and just like bitching about your teacher can bring people together, talking about the stress of Christmas can bring people together. And I guess my Danish outlook is going to shine through in this post. Can’t help it, born that way. I apologize in advance.

I’m only speaking for myself, of course, but Christmas will never mean what it meant to me when I was a kid. Now I wish for soft presents, and can’t help thinking about all the flesh the Christmas food is going to add to my already growing love-handles. I also worry that people aren’t going to like what I give them, even though I know that it’s the thought that counts. I bought my last couple of gifts yesterday, and I HATE doing it that late. I hate walking around a store with ten million other people, with no imagination, hoping that I am going to stumble upon something genius. It makes me feel horrible. I have also been exceptionally bad at asking people what they wanted for Christmas this year. Especially with my brothers (21 and 13), I have been afraid of them wanting something huge and expensive, as that is usually the case, and therefore I just haven’t asked. Is that shitty? Wow. Now that I typed it out it sounds shitty. Maybe I am just a shitty person.

Shitty or not, I am going to give you my very best attempt at a Christmas smile: It’s awkward, but I really mean it.

Tonight, I am going to my maternal grandparents to celebrate “Little Christmas Eve” (that’s what we call the 23rd of December), which is a life-long tradition on that side of the family. I am wearing a stretchy dress (I am going to expect the worst from my self-control tonight) and sparkly star earrings, which can sort of be seen in the photo.

So. Merry Christmas, Everybody! Have a great one.

Well, firstly, this happened:

I hope that’s not supposed to be one of those dates where you are a freak if you don’t remember where you were at exactly 12:12, because, honestly, I think I was peeing.

Unlike last week, this week started out pretty hopeful, but then, you know, life decided to take a dump on my hope and leave me crushed and confused and in new of something new to believe in. Seven hours later, I bounced back through the comfort of knowing that I hadn’t lost anything that was ever mine to begin with, which meant that really I had lost nothing at all. Except for a dream, maybe.  But dreams can be rebuilt, or sometimes even be built better the second time around.

So, I have been doing some rebuilding in my head this week, and maybe that is why I have been so incredibly exhausted. Today was my last day of Spanish Class, and I fell asleep three times.  In my defense, we were watching a movie that was so dull that every minute felt like an hour. The movie was a “behind the scenes”-feature on the DVD of another movie that we watched last week, and I SWEAR this special feature was longer than the actual movie. Two and a half hours!!! Come on, WHY? But, alas, I am now off for a month, and can do whatever I want every day. After I have read up on everything for my upcoming oral exam, of course. That’s actually what this “vacation” is for, technically, and, well, of course that is what I will do… all the time, every day… totes. That’s why the “good student” tag is used so frequently on this blog.

I have had a lot of thoughts about my life lately. In fact, it takes me an hour to fall asleep every night. At the moment, trying to predict where I’ll be three months from now seems like a complete impossibility. There are simply too many unknown factors for me to be able to make sense of anything. The most annoying part is that I am waiting for others to give me the information that is needed for me to be able to replace the a’s, b’s, x’s and y’s in my life with something actual and real. Something reliable. 2012 has without a doubt been the worst year of my life. I am not sorry in the least that it is almost over, and despite of unlucky number thirteen, I sincerely hope that it will make way for new opportunities. With all of the thoughts I have had, I should be at least a couple of steps closer to figuring out what I want to do once I finish this class in May. More on this (and lots of other things) in the next few days.

PS: I haven’t heard from “genuine ugg boots” in a while. Am I supposed to take that personally?

Today is the last day of my winter vacation. Tomorrow everything will go back to normal, and the mornings will yet again be dark and cold, the days long and stressful. I find comfort in the fact that Spring is just ten days away, supposedly, and that the weeks until my next vacation can be counted on one hand. Can you tell that I am done?

This week I have three hand-in’s and I haven’t started any of them. I have been sick. Really sick. I have been inside most days and have missed out on some really beautiful weather. Tuesday was Valentines Day, and after going to the doctor my boyfriend and I went out to eat together. We had meant to go back to this Italian restaurant we have been to before (and loved), Mama Rosa, but mistakenly (all my fault) ended up in the neighboring restaurant. You might wonder how that could happen, and let me tell you, we felt pretty stupid. Just like that time where we got lost on a straight road. You see, Mama Rosa is a restaurant located on the corner of a pedestrian street. We found it and went to enter, when we saw a sign on the door which said “Please use the other entrance”. Hmm, hmm, shit just got complicated. Apparently there was another entry further down in a dark alley that we were somehow supposed to find, but instead we chose to do the logical thing IN MY OPINION which was to walk a little to the right of the main entrance and enter through the entrance that had an awning above it and a big neon sign that said “Mama Rosa”.

At no point did I consider the fact that we could possibly be in the wrong restaurant. The menu layout did not look the same, the place was much smaller, and there was a guy making sushi and cooking steaks in the middle of the room. In a supposed Italian restaurant. You would think that would have been enough clues, but no. I must have been in a sickly haze.

“Is this even the right restaurant”, my boyfriend asked after eating a plate of fettucini alfredo sans cheese sauce but with lots of curry and coriander. DUH. The worst part is that I would never have thought of this myself. My boyfriend is very smart, you see.

What a waste of his hard-earned Valentines cheddah.