Yesterday at 3:30 am I left the house I've lived in for fifteen years for the last time.
For a while at least.
Dead, tired, asleep, smelling like cabbage, and nervous enough to throw up, we loaded up over a hundred pounds of luggage into our car and left for Sky Harbor. There, I said goodbye to my parents, crying a little, and manage to tote two carry-ons, weighing between them probably fifty pounds, through security and to my gate.
From Sky Harbor in Phoenix I went to Newark, New Jersey, which I actually didn't know was close to New York at all.
Picture from my gate to the Copenhagen flight.
All of a sudden I saw this city on the ground and was just thinking, "man I guess this is the down town of some New Jersey city." And then I realized what I was looking at was Manhattan. It was one of those things where you always knew that something existed but never really considered part of your reality. And then all of a sudden, there it is: existing right in front of you, shockingly nonchalant about its own magnitude.The Statue of Liberty especially.
Then I took some flight that I think was nine hours but was pretty much just a plain long time to Copenhagen. I sat in front of a toddler who screamed and cried for a good portion of the hours because her ears hurt. She made me tear up a couple times too when she started screaming for her mommy, because, really, I wanted mine too. Next to me though, was quite the cherry on top. He was an old man with an Greek accent from New Jersey. He was going to Sweden with his grown son and was hilarious. The whole flight he would turn around to the crying toddler and say something like "oh, the life of a toddler is quite trying" in his deep, accented voice. While we were landing, he asked me if I was Irish. I told him a little and he said that the Irish get their beauty from pots of gold at the end of rainbows guarded by leprechauns, but I was prettier. Then he advised me to always do what makes me happy. "It's about the journey," he told me, "don't worry about the destination." He said to always choose the path that will create the most happiness, because when I lead a happy life, I can then spread it to everybody around me and just make the world a better place.
I ran into a girl who was on the same flight as me from Copenhagen to Aalborg and was going to live in the same apartment complex as me on the plane. We went through the airport together and lived up to the loud, English speaking stereotypes of Americans.
Once at the apartment, the land lord showed me and three other foreign exchange students the amenities. My apartment complex is very much focused on communal living. I live, for example, right next door to my blocks common area where people donate a certain amount of money a month to buy things for the whole building to enjoy. We have block meetings to decide. There was also a free stuff, take it if you need it, bring it if you don't pile where I got a pair of hot rollers to replace the ones that were too heavy for my suitcase. Although feeling slightly glutinous, I'm quite pleased.
Then, I decorated my apartment. This I have pictures for. As part of that whole community living thing, at lot of my stuff came with the apartment. Fun things you'd never simply find in an apartment in America, like that futon!
I've always loved the idea of hanging up transparent dresses as curtains. It didn't really work that way here but I still think it's pretty and I might leave it up for a while.
This is my first place I've ever had completely to myself. It's so strange and yet so wonderful at the same time.
Overall, I can't wait for, as the old man on the plane would put it, the journey ahead, regardless of where my destination may be.
