Nostalgia Pt. 1: Denmark

As I haven't made any questionable decisions lately I went delving into my memory to find further proof that ridiculous situations find me no matter where I am. Enter MySpace to provide me fodder for this blog via my old posts on there! Myspace, you are useful to me once again. Enjoy your short reprieve from obsolescence.
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New Richmond is a fairly small town. Even so, if we ever have a class reunion, I probably won't be able to recognize or name every single person there. But if 10 foreigners walked in like they owned the place, I will probably question it. Apparently that's not a universal sentiment. Maybe Danes are just more tolerant than I, but I'd like to think it's just because young, drunk, Americans are just more amusing to make fun of than to yell at. In any case, either their passivity or our ignorant brazenness led to this:

I got a chance to visit Ribe, the oldest town in Denmark, during my semester there. In pursuit of any kind of nightlife in this quaint, tiny, little, ancient town,

we happened upon a little white pavillion tent in the middle of the city. As there was only one other bar open we chose to be adventurous and try our luck with the tent. With our hastily purchased beers in hand, our group of 10 Americans headed to the front to dance. A few Danes here and there joined us but mostly it was...just us while maybe 50 people sat at tables talking and most likely laughing at us.

After a bit, a large group of men strolled in wearing ridiculous outfits reminiscent of the mid-90s (complete with floppy disks and VHS tapes slung around their necks) and we thought, whoa, someone just came from a theme party! weird. Add that to the 3 Danish songs in a row they then played we decided we'd overstayed our welcome and began our stumble back to the hostel.
As we exited we noticed the multiple flyers posted at the entrance that in our rush to get drinks we had somehow missed.

Some sketchy translating revealed to us that this was, in fact, the 1998 Ribe High School 10 year Class Reunion.

w.t.f.

I crashed. A class reunion.

In Denmark.
sweet.

At least we were right about the theme party?

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Oh! But it isn't just the ridiculous that follows me, but injury as well! After my first few trips to Urgent Care in Americorps I had a lot of questions as to whether I had always been accident-prone. I swore up and down I'd never been to the doctor as much as I had been in those 10 months. Which was true. I used to never go to the doctor. But examples such as the following remind me that maybe it was going a bit too far to say I never got injured. What can I say? I like to take my chances. And when none are presenting themselves....I go looking for trouble.

In this case I completely asked for it. No really, I literally asked for it. After challenging my Danish friend to a wrestling match, which his girlfriend judged, at the bar in the basement of my kollegium (dorm) and losing spectacularly on the concrete floor of the hallway, my pride demanded that I ask for a rematch. But screw wrestling, I'm terrible at it. I upped the stakes. I challenged him to a boxing match at a bar at the University of Copenhagen.


Despite my ferocity

I lost again.









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Eventually I'll post examples from my time in Ireland of both the ridiculous and lack of coordination that seem to define my life.