My Life As A Foreigner

What's On My Bookshelf

2012-02-10T16:22:00.001+01:00

Whenever I return to Canada, I go a little crazy at the bookstore. It was no different this time around. I am officially stocked up with enough books to get me through all of the beach reading I plan to do in Cuba next week, and then some.

But aside from reading the books myself, my other favorite part of book shopping is sharing the titles with other readers. Who doesn't love a good book recommendation? Clicking the via link below the pictures will redirect you to the Amazon.com page for each book where you can read more about it and/or purchase it for yourself. Happy reading!

via

This is my current read. Do not, I repeat, do NOT be turned off when you find out it is a western. Yes, it is set in mid 1800 western USA. Yes, the characters are dirty, rough, horseback riding, pistol wielding, tough guys. Yes, there is violence and dueling. While you may think that sounds like the kind of book you typically shy away from, you better think again.

This is the tale of two brooding, yet surprisingly loveable brothers who are hired hit men, who find themselves on a horseback road trip from Oregon to California to do yet another killing job. While the premise of the book is fairly dark, the author some how manages to make their adventure hilarious, exciting, thought provoking, and philosophical. The style of DeWitt's writing is fresh and unique. An excellent read. Trust me.

via

I finished this book back in December. I may have already told you about it, but it is worth speaking of again. This is an enchanting story of two young illusionists competing against each other to the death, unbeknownst to them. The story is full of magical suspense and beauty. It is written with such descriptive imagination you feel as though you are smack in the middle of The Night Circus itself. I hear the story has been picked up by the produces of the Twilight movies, and may very well be made into a film.

The following books are lined up on my bookshelf, unread, so I will leave it up to Amazon to enlighten you. I am so excited to read each and every one of them. Don't forget to click on the links below the cover pictures to learn more.

via


via


Apparently in the league of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. via

This 8 book series came out in 1991, so many of you probably beat me to it. via

via

What's on your bookshelves?

The Airport Good-bye

2012-02-02T04:08:00.002+01:00

Well hello there fellow bloggers. Long time no see. Maybe some of you are wondering what on earth I have been up to since my last regular post, written way back last year. One thing is obvious, I definitely haven't been blogging. And quite possibly, none of you care at all about what I have been doing, but I am going to tell you anyway.

After my second round of Danish Christmas and New Years, I returned to my tiny island in southeastern Canada. To read more about where I come from, click HERE. Or better yet, you can check out this mini documentary filmed by the Mars Bar company. They will be taking 30 seconds of this documentary to make a nation wide commercial. Pretty exciting stuff for our tiny island!

I came home to get back to my nursing job, and earn enough money to ship myself back to Denmark and stay awhile. So far, I plan on being home until sometime in the spring. I know! The spring sounds really far away. Especially for those of us living in places with temps below zero and snow on the ground.

To make our time apart a little easier, Henry is coming to Canada to visit me on two separate occasions. First, I will be meeting up with him in Halifax February 17th, where will depart the following day for the Caribbean! Can you say excited? What better way to reunite after what will have been 35 days apart than lying on the beach of an all inclusive, tropical resort?

Our resort in Varadero, Cuba: via

Our next rendezvous will be in Montreal, around the second week of April. Henry is becoming an Uncle for the very first time this year. His brother and girlfriend live there and are expecting a baby in March. So, I will be reuniting with Henry and his family there to meet the little bundle of joy. Those boys really seem to like the Canadian girls, eh?

I have to say, I am really looking forward to experiencing some more airport hellos for a change. They are a hundred times better than the airport good bye. Upon returning to Denmark after our first 3 months apart, Henry met me with a bouquet of roses and a bag of ketchup chips waiting in the van. It was perfect! The first time we had to say goodbye to each other in an airport, well, not so much. It went a little something like this:

Okay, okay, it didn't go quite like that. First of all, I would never tell Henry he should do the thinking for both of us. That would be down right mad! Secondly, we won't always have Paris, since we have not traveled there together yet. Although, we could change Paris to something like: London, Venice or Berlin. To read in more detail the dramatics of our first goodbye, click HERE.

Our second airport goodbye was a little less dramatic than the first. Albeit not by much. It went more like this:

FYI, stop the clip at around the 40 second mark. What goes on after that is totally irrelevant.

Well, our second airport good bye didn't go exactly that way either. But haven't you all secretly wished your partner would chase you down in an airport like that when you see it happen in the movies? How romantic! By the way, it is so weird that I just typed that sentence. I never used to be such a sap. Anyway, in real life, Henry was in fact with me in the airport the entire time, so he didn't have to go running after me and calling out my name like a maniac.

We basically just stood around out side of the security line up, with me clutching a fist full of Kleenex and Q-Tips (for nose blowing and mascara fixing respectively), while we hugged each other and wept silent tears.

Let me be clear though, it was only me that cried. Henry is far too tough and manly to shed tears in public. He saves his for the ride home. No, I am totally joking. I am pretty sure he has never cried.

So, I am super excited to see Henry in a couple of weeks. And although it will eventually be followed by another airport good bye, I am beyond thrilled to get to experience the hello.

And of course, if I am ever feeling self pity for what I have to go through during airport good byes, I can always be grateful that they do not go like this:

PS: This clip also become irrelevant at the 1:40 mark.

What is your most memorable airport hello and/or good-bye?

The Big Day!

2012-01-23T17:28:00.001+01:00

Wow...I can't believe the big day is finally here! Today is the day my blog gets featured by SITS, the wonderfully fantastic organization of amazing lady bloggers, whose goal is to help fellow bloggers create bigger, better blogs, gain loads of exposure, and introduce them to thousands of other amazing blogs and bloggers. So a big welcome to all of my fellow SITStahs, and since many of you will be stopping by for the very first time, let me give you the rundown on what my blog and I are all about.

This is me. Lindsay. My grandmother thinks I look like Oprah. No she does not have dementia, and no she was not drinking when she informed me of this. What do you guys think?

It, and by it I mean my blog, all started when I decided to sell everything I owned, quit the nursing job that I loved, and move to a foreign country in the name of love.

But before I fled my own country, Canada, with the love of my life, my family insisted on meeting him. Okay, that probably sounds shady. The reason they had never met him in the two years that we had been dating is because I lived in British Columbia, and they lived in New Brunswick, two Canadian provinces that are over 5,500 km (3,417 mi) apart. Needless to say, it was not easy to get home for a visit often.

So Henry (that's the name of the guy who talked me into giving life as a foreigner a whirl) and I hopped in his 1995 pick up truck, and drove ourselves and what little belongings I had left across those 5,500 kilometers, so he could meet my family.

Here we are ready for our 2 week drive across the country.

After spending six weeks with my rambunctious family on the tiny, Canadian Island where I grew up, we were ready for the big move. We arrived at the airport with our 300 + pounds of luggage, and were ready for take off. The thought of starting a life in Denmark (where Henry is from), had me both excited and riddled with anxiety.

Considering we were moving, 300 pounds of luggage was an impressively small load.

I knew that living in a foreign country was going to provide me with a lot of great stories and experiences that I would want to document forever. I knew I would also want to share those stories with all of my family and friends back home. What better way to do both of those things than start a blog? And that is how My Life As A Foreigner was born.

In this blog you will find posts about...

... the differences between Canada and Denmark, like the fact that they let their babies sleep outside, unattended in their carriages, year round.

This pic makes it look quite pleasant.

...video blogs of my attempts to speak Danish. I apologize in advance to any Danes who choose to watch me butcher their language. Click HERE, if you dare, to see for yourself.

...lots of photos of our road trips and adventures around Europe, which often times involve sleeping in the back of a van, stepping in piles of cow poop that are still warm, being hospitalized in Austria after Henry plotted to kill me, or being offered a butter sandwich for breakfast by Henry...

Nothing like the feeling of still warm cow poop on your bare foot.

Cozied up in the back of the van in a parking lot somewhere in Italy.

My very first IV at a hospital in Austria.

...but roughing it aside, there are lots of great photos from trips to Berlin, Holland, Ireland, Copenhagen, Belgium, London, Italy, Austria and Switzerland. You can find posts and pictures of these crazy adventures under the Non-Denmark travel label.

Here we are at the stunning tulip fields in Holland.

I also write about my experiences with the in-laws, which involve letting Henry's mother stick a bunch of tiny needles in my ears on a regular basis, allowing her to detoxify me of all my impurities, and locking myself in a tiny airplane with his dad, who pilots us 5,000 feet in the air.

My impurities turned the water this color. I'm sure Henry's mom was proud.

That's Henry's dad in the pilot seat. My expression explains it all.

If that's not enough to entertain you, you can learn all about my ridiculous obsessions, with everything from laundry, to books, to freaking out about my sleeping arrangements, to drinking too much wine, and lets not forget my insane love for ketchup.

The fact that this pic exists, makes me feel not alone.

Mmm...wine. I must remember 1 bottle is plenty!

If you are not interested in my obsessions, you might find my psych ward worthy mood swings at a Flower Parade in Holland, the weirdest children's TV channel I have ever witnessed, my unwanted debut in the Danish newspaper, or the fact that Henry often engages in calling me things like a crispy piece of bacon or a cozy Christmas bear with the best of intentions, to be laugh worthy.

Me looking, and acting, a little crazy at the Flower parade.

Gotta love the mortifying mail box pose the photographer put us in.

So that is My Life As A Foreigner in a nutshell. I hope you enjoy poking around my little blog. Thanks in advance for stopping by, and for any comments that you take the time to leave. I have to admit, I have been a bit of a slacker with the blog lately, but knowing that so many incredible bloggers are going to be stopping by today has given me a new motivation to get back at it. I look forward to reading all of your comments and to stopping by your blogs in return. Have a great week, and happy blogging!

PS: To all of my regular readers. Please forgive me for leaving you in the lurch for the last month! I will be posting some updates this week, and of course, will be finally getting to all of the posts I have missed on your lovely blogs.

Finding Me Some Christmas Spirit

2011-12-17T13:06:00.000+01:00

I have been having some difficulty getting into the Christmas Spirit this season. I'm thinking it has a lot to do with the December weather in Denmark (mild temperatures, rain, wind, and bright green grass on the ground), and ~~everything~~ just a little to do with being away from my family. So, I have made it my mission to get me some Christmas spirit by doing the following:

Consumed loads of Peppernuts.

That's right, I said pepper nuts. If you think pepper nuts sound like something you really wouldn't want to put in your mouth at Christmas time, or any other time of the year for that matter, than you are sadly mistaken. Pepper nuts, or pebernødder in Danish, are absolutely frigging delicious! They are teeny, tiny, crunchy little cookies with just a hint of spice. What is even cooler about these pepper nuts is that some Danish people like to make little woven paper baskets to hang on the Christmas tree, and fill with pepper nuts or other Christmas candies. They have a saying in Denmark: "Først skal træet vises siden skal det spises," which basically translates too first the tree will be shown, then we will eat it. Sounds delicious, huh? Click HERE for a quick and easy pepper nut recipe and try them out for yourself. I promise you won't be disappointed.

So yummy! via

Learned how to make Danish Christmas stars.

All Danish children learn how to make these woven paper tree ornaments. They are either taught how at school, or by a crafty lady in their life. That crafty lady in my life, was Henry's sister, who taught me how to make them last week. I have to admit, they are pretty tricky at first, so I was quite surprised to learn that Henry is a star making master. It took me an hour to make my first star, but once I got the hang of it, I was weaving them up like nobody's business. My camera is broken, so I couldn't take pictures of my own gorgeous works of art, but the stars in the picture below look exactly like mine. I promise! And once I got really good, I even combined the gold and silver colors on one star. Now that takes skill.

via

Had a Christmas movie marathon.

What better way to conjure up some holiday spirit than having a Christmas movie marathon? My plan both worked and backfired. On one hand, it got me into the Christmas spirit for a whole day. On the other hand, it also made me cry a little, because in every movie people were either having fun or fighting with their own families, which made me really miss mine. Tears aside, the movie marathon was mostly fun. We watched National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Elf, Four Christmases, most of Love Actually, and Bad Santa. Okay, Bad Santa really threw a wrench into the plan. I remembered it as a funny movie, but it turned out it was just vulgar and depressing. It came out when I was at the peak of my teen years, which just goes to show what kind of mind set teens are in. It's a scary place! You are probably thinking I missed out on the best Christmas movies out there, but have no fear, I am saving Home Alone, A Christmas Story, Miracle on 34th Street, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas for when it gets a little closer to Christmas.

via

Went to see New Year's Eve

Keeping in line with the holiday movie trend, I dragged Henry to see New Year's Eve in the theater. Yes, I fell for their scheme to make as much money as possible by packing as many 'trendy' celebs into one cheesy movie as possible. Avoid this trap unless you are absolutely in the mood to pay a small fortune at the theater to see a lame holiday movie full of less than impressive performances by the majority of the cast, especially the no longer cool, far too scraggly, cheating fool, Ashton Kutcher. Not to mention, if you have seen the movie for the trailer, than you have pretty much seen the movie anyway. I highly recommend snuggling in blankets, whipping up a batch of pepper nuts, turning on your Christmas tree, and watching oldie, but oh-so-goodie Christmas movies in the comfort of your own home.

Spare yourself. Trust me. via

Shopping

So I actually haven't bought any Christmas gifts yet, but that doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed looking around. Walking through the shopping streets of Aarhus all lit up in Christmas lights, listening to the Christmas music drifting out of the stores, has really pumped up the spirit. Plus, the fact that I don't have to stress too much about buying gifts now, since the majority of my Christmas shopping will be done when I return to Canada after the holidays has me even more excited. Hello post holiday sales and a second Christmas!

I actually spend more time looking at this than I do in the stores! via

All the festiveness makes outdoor Christmas shopping fun! via

Scratching my julekalender.

Get your minds out of the gutter! A julekalender is Danish for Christmas calendar. It is an advent calendar and a lottery ticket rolled into one. Each day of December you scratch a block of the calendar to reveal one of 8 different Christmas pictures. Christmas trees have the most value, and if you scratch 10 of them, you win 1 million Danish Kroner. I have scratched 8 trees already, and have never been so excited. I have 7 more days to get another 2 trees. I am fully convinced I am winning the million kroner prize, which actually sounds a lot more exciting than the $182,118.22 Canadian dollars it really is, but I certainly wouldn't complain! Wish me luck!

I'm pretty sure this is what will pay of my student loan! via

As if all of these methods of finding Christmas spirit weren't enough, Henry also promised me this: "I am going to give you the best Christmas weekend of the week!" He seemed so excited about his plans, I didn't bother to remind him that there is only one weekend per week, so no matter what goes down, it is guaranteed to be the best weekend of the week. His plans involve attending a Danish community Christmas party (you can read about last year's experience at the same event HERE), baking peppernuts, and visiting an outdoor museum depicting how Danes lived at Christmas time in the 1800's, the 1920's, and the 1970's. I think my planning skills are really rubbing off on the guy.

How do you find your Christmas Spirit?

Ireland: Cliffs of Moher VS Slieve League

2011-11-25T12:29:00.000+01:00

There are two problems with checking out the most famous tourist attraction of which ever place you happen to be visiting. First, the overload of the tourists takes away from the charm and beauty of the site, and also makes it challenging to take good photos. And secondly, there is always an entrance fee to pay. Henry and I still like to see the most popular attractions for ourselves, but we prefer to visit sites that are off the beaten path. And free. As an example, let's compare two of Ireland's most stunning cliff landscapes: The Cliffs of Moher and Slieve League.

First up, The Cliffs of Moher. The most famous cliffs in all of Ireland. These 702 feet cliffs (which are not even Ireland's highest) are the most visited attraction in the country, seen by around 1 million tourists each year. We were there in the off season, but there were still plenty of tourists around. I can only imagine how crazy it would be in the heart of summer. The entrance fee cost 6 Euro per person. That being said, the Cliffs of Moher are the most famous attraction in Ireland for a reason, and visiting is definitely worth battling crowds and paying the fee.

Unfortunately, the hazy sky did not create the best lighting for photos.

I find this shot hilarious. Feel free to laugh at my expense.

Clearly it's ok to ignore this warning sign and walk along the edge of the cliffs.

A much better shot by a pro. via

We also wanted to visit Slieve League, which we discovered thanks to our Lonely Planet guide book. We were intrigued by the fact that this site is less visited by tourists, that it involved a bit of hiking, and there was no entrance fee to pay. At 1,971 feet, practically three times the height of The Cliffs of Moher, Slieve League are Ireland's highest cliffs. While both places were nothing short of amazing, the Slieve League was our favorite. For a while, we were the only two there to enjoy this breathtaking site, and we only ended up meeting a hand full of other people along the way. It was captivating, exciting, and we essentially got to experience the majesty of Slieve League all by ourselves.

via

What do you prefer: the road well traveled, or off the beaten path?

The Day My Grandmother Yelled At A Stranger in Times Square & Other NYC Memories

2011-11-24T13:51:00.000+01:00

It is always a little unsettling when your mild mannered, sweet as sugar grandmother yells. Especially when she does it loudly, and directs it towards a stranger passing by in the middle of Times Square. Okay, I should probably back up a bit here and explain a few things. It all started with a pedicab ride. You know, where you sit in a wagon type structure attached to a bicycle, while some poor soul pedals you in and out of the ridiculous downtown Manhattan traffic.

The ~~torture chamber~~ pedicab.

As the herd of people, my grandmother and I included, stampeded out of the Minskoff Theater after the spectacular Broadway performance of The Lion King, we were bombarded by pedicab drivers, literally surrounding the theater exit. Rather than avoid them like the plague, as any normal human being would do, we decided to take a spin in one.

This is the stampede after the sold out show.

I was a little wary of the pedicab initially, but I am always up for trying new things. Plus, the pedicab experience came highly recommended by my youngest sister, who claimed it was her favorite NYC experience. She must have left out the part that she was on some sort of substance at the time.

So my grandmother and I cozied up in the little wagon, and we were off like a prom dress. Okay, we didn't take off quite that fast. The poor little guy had a bit of a struggle to get going, but once he picked up some momentum, he was weaving us in and out of the dangerous city traffic like nobody's business.

The driver pulled a Henry and stopped in the middle of the street to take our picture.

The experience triggered quite a variety of emotions for me. First of all, I felt shock. Shocked that my grandmother didn't have some sort of heart attack. I mean, I have seen her buckled in the passenger side of a regular, enclosed, 4 door vehicle driving under 50km/hr on a small town road with absolutely no traffic, gasping and clutching the holy shit handles for dear life. Surprisingly, she rode in that pedicab like she was buckled safely into some kind of armored vehicle, like the one below.

via

Secondly, I felt guilt. Major guilt. Our little driver was working so hard to pull us around, he was sweating like a teenage boy spying in the girls locker room. I'm sure he is used to pulling multiple humans around by his bicycle, but I still felt guilty that it took so much effort.

Thirdly, I felt exhilaration. It was quite refreshing to weave in and out of city traffic, the breeze blowing in my hair, seeing the city from the perspective of sitting about a foot off the ground. And experiencing the NYC pedicab with my amazing grandmother was pretty special too.

Last, but not least, I felt a tiny bit of fear. I don't think I need to explain why one could feel scared while being pulled around through such intense traffic in down town NYC by a little guy driving a bicycle. I mean, one wrong move and one of us could have been sprawled out on the hood of a yellow taxi. If only I was as brave as my grandmother.

Blurry shot, but this was the ride from our perspective.

Anyway, I am getting totally side tracked here. Let's get back to why my grandmother yelled at a stranger. After we managed to struggle our way out of that tiny wagon, he showed me the price list for his services. Not cheap. I quickly added up in my head the $15 flat rate per person, plus the $1 per block at 9 blocks rate, for a grand total of $39. He told us it cost $60. Math and confrontation aren't exactly my strong suits, so I didn't argue with him. We handed over the $60 and made our merry way back to the hotel.

We talked as we walked and decided that $60 was far too much money for a pedicab ride that lasted approximately 5 minutes. Quite frankly, per minute, a helicopter tour of Manhattan would have been cheaper. We concluded that we were just two tourists who'd been had, and left it at that. At least that's what I thought.

Miraculously, my grandmother managed to spot our pedicab driver stuck in traffic, right beside us on the street. She raised her pointed finger in the air and yelled, surprisingly loudly at him, "you're a crook!" Her outburst startled both myself and the driver, but unfortunately, did not get us our money back. Oh well, can you really put a price on expressing your inner rage publicly and getting to ride in a Times Square pedicab with your amazing granddaughter (that would be me)? I didn't think so.

Here are some more of the highlights of our New York City trip:

The Naked Cowboy

Two Broadway Shows

Double Decker Bus Tour

Crumbs Cupcakes

Warning: They Will Change Your Life!

The Paramount Times Square Hotel
The rooms are super small and pricey, but with beds made of clouds, Dean & Deluca in the lobby, and only a block from Broadway and Times Square, this place was heavenly.

via

Meeting Brooke Shields for 30 Seconds

The NYC Atmosphere in General

What are you NYC highlights?

The Luck of the Irish

2011-11-16T18:47:00.000+01:00

Call me crazy, but I was always under the impression that the legend of 'the luck of the Irish' referred to them being blessed with good luck. Then I went to Ireland. My first hint came as I was reading my guide book on the airplane. As I got deeper and deeper into details about Ireland's history, I discovered that for centuries they have been anything but lucky. Brutal invasions, first by the Vikings, then by the English, followed by poverty, the potato famine, mass emigration, and The Troubles, a very delicate label for the unresolved political and religious conflict that continues in Northern Ireland to this day. Nothing about their history seemed lucky to me.

...or not? Oh, and please excuse the sparkles. I am not exactly a sparkly kind of girl, but this was the best image I could find.

Being the ~~nosy~~ curious girl that I am, I was compelled to find out why most people assume the Irish are lucky, when nothing in their history suggests anything even remotely close to luck. One theory suggests that it comes from the luck many Irish people had mining for gold after they immigrated to America. Another suggests that during that time, Americans viewed Irish immigrants in a negative light, thinking they were foolish and simple, so anytime an Irish person achieved success in America, it was dubbed 'the luck of the Irish'. Or, perhaps they are considered lucky simply because they managed to survive, and occasionally thrive, through all of the hardships and obstacles thrown their way over the centuries.

After our 12 days in Ireland, I would say that the last theory rings most true. We ran into a few instances of back luck, but managed to persevere, stay positive, and always came up lucky in the end.

Luck Of The Irish: Scenario 1

Upon arrival at the Dublin airport, we promptly picked up our backwards rental car. We loaded up on insurance, since neither of us have experience driving on the left hand side of the road, which seemed like a super tricky, dangerous skill to master in a rental car.

It just looks so wrong, doesn't it?

Two hours after leaving the airport, we learned that all of that insurance we paid for, did not in fact cover tire replacement. No matter how cautious and careful you are while driving on the left hand side of the road, you are never protected from blowing a tire.

So lucky I had this strong, Mr. Fix-It guy as my travel partner!

Clearly, blowing a tire within two hours of buckling into your rental, then finding out that your hundreds of Euros worth of insurance does not actually cover the cost of purchasing a new tire, or having said tire put on, was the unlucky part. Even more unlucky than that, was the fact that we had less than an hour to find a place to get a new tire put on before every mechanic shop known to Ireland closed for the rest of the weekend. And as the Irish car rental agent kindly reminded me, "Yer shud proobably git dat tire changed as soon as possable, cos yer don't 'av a second spare if yer blow another wan."

The lucky part was of this little set back was that we were able to get ourselves, on three regular tires and a donut, to the nearest town 20 minutes before the only auto shop in a radius of 100 kilometers closed for the weekend.

Luck of the Irish: Scenario 2

Thanks to the frequent occurrence of rain, I could think of no better place to break in my brand spanking new Hunter Wellies than Ireland. I was never the least bit bothered by rain, as I frolicked around the gorgeous green fields of Ireland in my Wellies, snapping photo after photo. Since this was my first pair of rubber boots since my childhood, I also took the liberty of jumping in a few puddles.

If you haven't tried it since you were, I don't know, 5, I would highly recommend it.

In true tourist fashion, we would drive a few kilometers, then pull over randomly, and without warning to the unfortunate drivers behind us, to jump out and take pictures. Leaving one of these pit stops, after climbing back in the rental Fiat, a strong whiff of cow poop flooded my nasal passage, nearly choking me. As we continued driving, the scent only intensified. "Wow, those farms really smell." I commented, wrinkling my nose. A few minutes later, my nostrils overflowing with the rancid scent of cow dung, I asked Henry, "can't you notice how strong it is?" He noticed, but wasn't as bothered by it as I was. He is a professional farmer after all. I decided the smell was too in your face to just be wafting in through the closed windows from the farms we drove past, so I checked my Wellies. Did I mention they were brand new? And then I found the source of the odor, exclaiming to Henry, "Pull over right now! I am covered in cow shit!"

You are a lot cuter than you smell! via

Yup, that's right, I stepped in a huge cow patty in my brand new boots. Then I proceeded to step on the cloth strap of my cross body bag that I had carelessly set on the floor of the car. Take my word for it, the stench of cow shit does not come out of cloth as easy as it does rubber.

Oh, and by the way, that is not the first time I have stepped in cow poop. Remember Austria? Not only did I step in cow poop, I stepped in a pile of still warm, greenish-brown poop, while wearing sandals! I appear to be a cow shit magnet.

The damage done in Austria.

There was some luck to be had in this code brown disaster. To begin with the obvious, I stepped in the poop while wearing rubber boots, rather than my favorite ballet flats. They were brand new, expensive boots, but at least I was able to hose them down with a bottle of water. Where are the good puddles when you need them anyway? I was also lucky that my black cross body bag was not only old, but it was my back up purse, so I wasn't stuck wearing a purse that smelled like cow shit for two weeks. But, the biggest stroke of luck was actually that my stepping in cow poop may have possibly saved our lives, or at least prevented a car accident. Which brings me to...

Luck of the Irish: Scenario 3

So, how did stepping in cow poop prevent us from getting in a car accident? Well, after I cleaned off my boots and inhaled some fresh, seaside air, we got back into the car to find that the clutch was broken. It was completely loose, and dropped straight to the floor. Now, I don't know much about cars, or how to fix them, so I won't bore you with inaccurate details of the mechanical problem that occurred. The point is, we could not shift gears, therefore, we could not drive anywhere. If I hadn't of stepped in the poop, we would have just been driving along the narrow, windy, treacherous mountain roads, in weekend tourist traffic, when the clutch gave out. Not quite as lucky as making such a discovery while parked safely on the side of the road.

Once again, we contacted our car rental agent to explain the problem, and she sent road side assistance to come save the day. It took less than an hour for the guy to get to us, which was great, but breaking down on the side of the road was not a part of my plan. Plus, it really cut into the time we had to explore Belfast.

AA came to save the day! via

Luckily, the sweet Irish man who came to our rescue discovered the part that was broken might just be able to be flipped around and work again. He tried it out, telling us, "don't git yer 'opes up, tiz rare not to 'av ter git towed in ter de shop." Well, I guess you could say that 'the luck of the Irish' was with us, because his trick worked, and it only took him about 4 minutes to figure it out. Well, 4 minutes if you don't count the other 45 minutes he spent talking to us about his job, the weather they had in Ireland last winter, and the trouble he had putting snow chains on his tires. The Irish sure do love to chit chat, but I didn't care at this point. I enjoyed listening to his accent, and was ecstatic that we didn't need to employ a tow truck.

Luck of the Irish: Scenario 4

As you may already know, or I may have already mentioned, Ireland is no stranger to rain. How else do you think it became so green? We prepared ourselves for rainy weather not only by packing rubber boots, rain jackets and umbrellas, but also with a little pep talk to remind ourselves that we would not be disappointed if we got caught in a rain storm or two. Well, it pretty much rained on a daily basis. At first it was just sun showers here and there, but by the end of our trip it turned torrential. At one point, it rained more in 6 hours than it normally does the entire month of October, flooding homes and the roads alike.

We made it through this flooded road in the rental. Scary considering the luck we'd been having.

While continuous rainy weather is never favorable, we lucked out in spite of it. It would rain right up until we had to get out of the car to explore outside, and then it would stop. Like Mother Nature herself parted the clouds and turned off the faucet just for us. On one occasion, it had been ideal weather all day, and just as we were about to make the hike back to the car from Slieve League, we spied a major storm rolling in, and it was rolling fast. The storm chased us the whole way back to the car, but not a drop of rain fell until we were safely tucked inside. Thanks Mother Nature. Your kindness was greatly appreciated!


The huge storm clouds rolling in fast.

And me trying to out run the storm. I beat it! Barely.

Another lucky side of all that rain is...drum roll please....rainbows! Who doesn't love a good rainbow? I took it upon myself to be on rainbow watch 24/7. Henry wasn't nearly as excited about the duty as I was. I counted 7 different rainbows in a 12 day period, 3 of them being double rainbows. How lucky is that? Unfortunately, there were no pots of gold to be found at the end of these rainbows. Looks like the luck of the Irish isn't the only myth to come out of Ireland!

I attempted to photograph each of the 7 rainbows I saw, unfortunately, the pictures did not turn out. I have already posted a few other rainbow shots taken from the same area as above, to check those out, click HERE.

Have you ever been blessed (or cursed) by 'the luck of the Irish'?

Ireland: Glendalough

2011-11-15T13:20:00.000+01:00

Another one of the many highlights of our trip to Ireland was Glendalough, a 6th century monastic settlement situated between two lakes of a glacial valley, located in the midst of all the fantastic nature that County Wicklow, in Eastern Ireland has to offer. There are 9 different hiking trails in the mountainous Glendalough area, varying in difficulty. These 9 trails are scattered with unique monuments, including churches, graveyards, St. Kevin's cell and the round tower.

Every last inch of this places oozes history and natural beauty. We had so much fun exploring here. If you are ever in the Dublin area, and are looking for something to do other than drink pints in the Temple Bar area, then I would highly recommend taking the short, scenic, 80 minute drive to check out all that the gorgeous Glendalough has to offer.

As you will notice in my photos below, we were there on a drizzly, misty day. While that sort of weather is not considered ideal in ordinary circumstances, at Glendalough, it was. With Halloween just around the corner, the grey mist hovering over the tombstones created a hauntingly beautiful atmosphere that was simply stunning, and made me go camera crazy!


St. Kevin's church in the background.

The gorgeous greens of Ireland.

Burial yard of the O'Toole family, who settled in the area in the 12th century.

I loved the shapes and textures on this tree.

There are more graves in the ruins of the stone church in the background.

So eerie and beautiful.

Tombs tilted over underneath the Round Tower.

A giant staircase to climb in the middle of the forest.


A pretty waterfall we found on our hike.

In the tiny town of Enniskerry, roughly a 12 minute drive from Glendalough, is the Powerscourt Waterfall. At 397 feet, this is the highest waterfall in Ireland, and is especially spectacular after a heavy rain. Well worth the short drive and the 5 Euro fee to visit.

PS: I am now using Disqus for comment posting. Let me know what you think, and if you prefer the regular blogger comment format. As far as I can tell, I prefer the Blogger format to read all of your comments, but I want to keep my awesome readers happy, so your opinions are important to me!

Sh*t Henry Says

2011-11-07T20:21:00.000+01:00

Before I begin this post, please forgive me for the lack of originality in the title. I rearranged the words of the extremely popular Twitter feed: Shit My Dad Says, by Justin Halpern. In the feed, he quotes the hilarious things that come out of his father's mouth. His collection of wacky comments eventually turned into a best selling book, and then spun off into a TV show. If only I could be so lucky by sharing publicly some of the shit Henry says. To hold you over until I can fill a book full of shit Henry says, you should check out the Shit My Dad Says blog HERE, if you haven't already. Wow...that was a lot of shit in one paragraph. Apologies to my grandmother, a faithful reader who doesn't care for curses.

Since funny things a strange man's dad says is not the actual subject of this post, let's move on. Remember how I said I wouldn't share too many of Henry's ridiculous ramblings and sweet, yet confusing compliments with you because I didn't want to embarrass him to the point of stopping. Well, I lied. Actually, lying sounds bad. I really did plan on not sharing these things publicly. I swear! Unfortunately for Henry, some of the things he comes out with are just too funny to keep to myself, and since I am currently friendless in this foreign country, who better to share these outbursts with than all of you?

Before I get to his latest and greatest outburst (for lack of a better word), let's recap some of Henry's previous winners.

Last Winter

Me (while modeling a chunky knit, ivory sweater): Does this sweater make me look bulky?

Henry: You look like a cozy Christmas bear.

Henry, again a few seconds later: Not like a real bear!

Me: Okay. So I will be returning this sweater. Immediately.

My Last Birthday via email

Your hair is so beautiful, because it is so colorful.

Your teeth are so shiny, they make my face a smiley.

Last Week

Henry: You have beautiful, perfectly shaped knee scalps.

Me: Do you mean knee caps?

Henry: Yeah. Beautiful knee caps.

A Few Hours Ago

Upon returning home from school, Henry enters the apartment to find me on the couch, clad in a completely black ensemble of workout gear and watching TV. I was wearing the workout clothes in hopes that it would inspire me to work out. It inspired me to watch TV instead. The following conversation actually took place.

Henry: Are you feeling fresh today? (Which is his way of asking if I am in a happy, energetic mood).

Me: Do I look fresh to you today?

Henry: Yeah. You look spry. Like a juicy apple.

Me: What does that even mean?

Henry: Like an apple is so juicy and shiny. But you are not shiny!! Like colorful (I was dressed entirely in black). And delicious!

Me: Do you even know what spry means?

Henry: Yeah. Like a cracker.

Me: A cracker?

Henry: I mean like crispy bacon.

Me: Henry, bacon and crackers and apples can not be spry.

Henry: I know what it means. It is like me. A spry, young man.

Me: Too confused for words.

Here is the actual definition of spry, according to the www.thefreedictionary.com: "lively or active...brisk and nimble...vigorous...moving lightly."

So, at that moment, I was in fact about as spry as a juicy apple, which is not spry at all. Perhaps he was being totally sarcastic and offensive the whole time, and was secretly trying to call me an un-spry, round looking apple. Or hopefully, he really was confused as to what spry meant, but it came to him after he realized apples, crackers, and crispy bacon are definitely not spry.

I had to ask what really happened. Here is the answer, and I quoted him directly, word for word:

"I didn't mean it bad. I was confused. The word spry reminds me of the Danish word sprød, which is like a fresh apple instead of a dried up apple, or like crispy bacon compared to sloppy bacon. It is not modern anymore, but as far as I remember the word can also be used to describe a good looking female. I believe."

Hmmmm. Well, as long as he was not comparing me to a round, inanimate shaped food or a crispy strip of bacon, and meant to say that I am just a good looking female sitting on the couch watching TV, then I'll take it.

Northern Ireland: The Antrim Coast

2011-11-03T16:44:00.003+01:00

Driving the scenic, breathtaking, Causeway Coastal Route in Northern Ireland, was one of the highlights of our trip, and is not to be missed, should you find yourself in the area. The drive begins just outside of Belfast, and takes you across 130 kilometers of some of the most gorgeous, varying landscapes I have ever laid eyes on. Technically, the Causeway Coastal route ends in Londonderry/Derry, but the beauty of Ireland hardly ends there. In fact, some might say it is only just the beginning.

Unfortunately, there is often a price to pay for the honor of experiencing such stellar awesomeness, and in this case, that price was car sickness. The narrow, perpetually winding, hazardous country roads that must be endured to witness these epic views are incredibly nauseating, and occasionally even a little bit life threatening.

Masses of sheep take over the roads, and a sheep roadblock is pretty much inevitable. Okay, that part is more fun than life threatening. The life threatening part comes in the form of the local drivers. They know these teeny tiny roads like the back of their hands, or at least I hope they do, and that confidence must be what inspires them to drive 100km/hour on them. Meeting one of these wild locals on the corner of a treacherous mountain road, with only enough room for one car, is down right horrifying. There was a lot of swearing, gasping in fear, and clutching of the 'holy shit' handles going on during these moments. Trust me.

Yes, this road is meant for two cars.

And if the other drivers weren't scary enough, Henry often thought it was fun to stop in the middle of such roads and get out to take some scenic photos. Or maybe that was just another plot of his to kill me. You can read more about him trying to kill me HERE.

Anyway, enough blabbing, and let's get to the photos of all this Causeway Coastal Route goodness, shall we?

Scenic Shots Along the Route

Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge

The view from the top of the bridge.

The rocky, jagged cliffs and vicious waves were only 30 meters beneath the bridge. Not so high, but high enough for me!

Don't let my smile fool you. I was scared for my life on that wobbly, unsafe thing!

Dunluce Castle

Ancient castle ruins on the cliffs edge.

The 9 Glens of Antrim

Also known as just The Glens, these 9 distinct, spectacular valleys (glens), were formed by glaciers during the ice age. I don't remember which glen is which here, but they are equally fantastic so the names don't really matter.

Stone fences everywhere!

The Giant's Causeway

This was my absolute favorite place on the entire route. I went totally camera crazy here, and since I have already overloaded you with pictures in this post, I dedicated a separate post to the Giant's Causeway. Here is one shot to get you started. Click HERE to see more.

Northern Ireland: The Giant's Causeway

2011-11-03T16:44:00.002+01:00

The Giant's Causeway is the highlight of the Causeway Coastal Route, a scenic driving route of 130 kilometers in Northern Ireland. This spectacular feat of nature is made up of over 40,000 basalt rock columns, formed as a result of an ancient volcanic eruption. Each column is similar in its' hexagonal shape, and forms a series of stepping stones from the cliffs edge, all the way into the sea.

My words will definitely not be able to justify how amazing this place really is, but I hope my photos will. Enjoy!

In the middle of our exploration it started to rain, hence the hood in the photo above. It only lasted a few minutes. After the rain, the most amazing rainbow came out. Make that a double rainbow. It was magical. Sounds cheesy, but so true!

Click HERE to see more of my Causeway Coastal Route highlights.

7 Reasons Why I Have Been A Bad Blogger

2011-10-31T17:39:00.000+01:00

I have been meaning to get firing up some witty, exciting, photo filled posts about my trip to Ireland since I returned a week ago, but I am a bad blogger. It's as simple as that. I have been MIA from Blog Land more often than not lately. I truly have missed writing, sharing my stories and pics with all of you, and catching up on all of the lovely blogs I read on the regular.

Today, finally, I am ~~all~~ mostly caught up on my reading. Apologies in advance to those of you whose inboxes I have overloaded with comment notifications. So, now I can finally focus on writing some posts of my own.

Before I fill you in on all things Irish, and my trip to NYC way back in September, I thought I would share with you the things that have been robbing me of blogging time over the last few weeks.

1. Ireland

As I am sure you are all well aware by now, I recently spent 12 glorious days in the breathtaking, and surprisingly feisty countries of Ireland and Northern Ireland. There are several Ireland related post in the works, along with loads of pics, so stay tuned.

One of my favorite shots from our trip.

2. Laundry

A 12 day laundry-less holiday comes with a price. Although for me, it is more like a reward, because I am a freak of nature who absolutely loves doing laundry. In fact, I spent the entire first day at home doing it. I had two washers on the go all day long. At least until one broke down, likely due to overuse. I have chosen not to reveal the actual number of loads I did, because some of you might find the double digit number shocking, appaling, and worthy of having me sent to some sort of institution.

I will have a laundry room exactly like this one day. via.

3. Cereal

I have been on an inexplicable cereal kick for the last few weeks. I have made my way through a box of Bran Flakes, (yes I love Bran Flakes, and no, I am not a bowel obsessed 70+ year old), Multi-Grain Cheerios, and am now half way through my Rice Krispies, with a box of Special K on reserve. I could not even begin to tell you how many bananas and cartons of Soy Milk (sometimes sugar free, sometimes vanilla flavoured, for the sake of variety) it takes to keep this cereal habit going.

The best snack ever! via.

4. Magazines

I loaded up on magazines from the UK while on holiday. I tried not to, but I had a wallet full of Euro and Pound coins that I figured I might as well get rid of before returning to Denmark. What better way to get rid of your foreign change than to spend it all on airport magazines? I came home with UK editions of Glamour, Marie Claire, In Style and even threw in a copy of Hello, for some not too trashy, good old celebrity gossip.

Oh yeah, and I also bought a UK Edition of Men's Health for Henry. Truthfully, I bought the mag as much for him, as I did for myself. I wanted a sneak peek into the advice, tips, and articles that are served up in a magazine for men. A magazine that has more to it than naked photos of women, that is. Men's Health was perfect for the job. Sadly, articles such as "Eat More to Earn More," and "Lose Weight by Eating Carbs" just wouldn't work out for me, or most women that I know. However, I did find the articles "Tick Her Boxes," and "Should You Keep an Affair Hidden," rather interesting, occasionally disturbing reads.

I love them all. Life is not worth living without them. I am addicted. Seriously. via.

5. Catching up on TV

The Amazing Race, Project Runway, Parenthood, Modern Family, Grey's Anatomy, 2 Broke Girls, Survivor, ANTM, Desperate Housewives. It is a long, time consuming list. But hey, I have nothing but time, and these things bring me great joy, so why not?

A set up like this sure would save me a lot of time. via.

6. Exercise

To counteract the dangerous, unhealthy side effects of extreme TV consumption, I am making a huge effort to spend a lot more free time being active. My running trail through the woods is so gorgeous right now. With the warm, fall colors of the leaves and the mild temps, there is no better time for running. I have also fired up Jillian Michaels' workout DVD, Ripped in 30. Regardless of the fact that: a) it is going to take far more than 30 days to get me even close to ripped, and b) Jillian Michaels gets on my last nerve, I find this particular DVD fun, fast, never boring, and effective.

30 Days, you say Jillian? We'll see about that. via.

7. Henry

Since we recently spent 10 weeks apart, and I am leaving again in January, I am really soaking up all the time I can with him. He is hilarious, entertaining, fun, pretty easy on the eyes, and his ridiculous, yet super sweet, out of the blue compliments keep me highly entertained. I won't reveal too many of his smooth lines, but last night's compliment is definitely a must share: "You have perfectly shaped, beautiful knee scalps." I have to say, that is the first time anyone has ever been so adoring towards my knee scalps (aka knee caps). Reason number 4,789 why I love him.

My knee scalps, not looking to beautiful after a day of snowboarding 2 winters ago. Ouch!

Can you fellow bloggers relate? What keeps you too busy for blogging?

Things That Make Me Not Want to Jump Out of a Plane

2011-10-11T16:27:00.002+02:00

Since I quite possibly may have scarred those of you who read my previous post for life, by highlighting the nauseating details of the horrific, vomit-fest of a flight I endured to get back to Denmark, I thought I should offer up something a little more pleasant. Something more visually stimulating. Something to distract you from conjuring up the nasty image of being surrounded by the smell of rancid vomit while trapped for 7 hours sitting between loud, obnoxious, space invading strangers inside of a sweltering, claustrophobic, turbulent airplane. I guess I just made you think about it again, didn't I? Sorry. I promise to make it up to you. And if you remember my Speedo post, you know I am good for my word.

I thought I would offer you some images, and a particularly hilarious video clip, of some of the more joyous things that I encountered over the 5 weeks I went MIA from Blog Land. I hope you guys enjoy these things as much as I did. I also hope that reliving these moments of joyous occasions will help me to recover from the minor case of post traumatic stress I am suffering as a result of flight AF345. The flight that made me seriously contemplate jumping out the emergency exit doors at 34,000 feet.

In no particular order of preference, here are some of the things that have brought me happiness over the last 5 weeks:

My niece, Kalli- Okay, I put her first because she truly does make me the happiest. The rest of the things on this list fall in random order.

She takes finger pointing very seriously. Oh, and that bow is on her head because it`s her birthday. She doesn't seem impressed.

She melts my heart!

Okay, okay, I will stop with the niece pics now. She is just too cute!

Crumbs Cupcakes- We made a little pit stop at Crumbs Bakeshop in NYC. I ordered the mint chocolate cupcake. I haven't been the same since. It is heaven in a cupcake wrapper. Hands down the best form of dessert I have ever consumed in my entire life. My grandmother was there. She ate the peanut butter one. She agrees. Crumbs is not compensating me for saying this. I wish they were. In the form of cupcakes.

The pic is a bit blurry, but you get the idea. My heart aches for one just looking at this.

Gorgeous Sunsets- My home town Island has some of the best. I will let the picture do the talking on this one.

Hunter Wellies- I have been wanting a pair of these boots for quite some time now. I looked everywhere when I was home, including NYC, and short of ordering them online, I couldn't find them anywhere. Luckily, these were the first things I ran into in Denmark. At Bilka of all places (a Danish Department store). They came my way just in the nick of time too. It has rained everyday since my return. I love my Wellies!

Buggying- What some of you may know as quad-ing, ATV-ìng, or 4-wheeling, I call buggying. That is just what we do where I come from. Along with using the words right and mighty inappropriately. For example, we would say: it was a right mighty fun day buggyin.' Seriously though, there is nothing quite like a good buggy ride through the woods on a warm, beautiful fall day.


Me on the left, my dad, and my middle sister in the hat.

Dad and I on the buggy.

Brooke Shields- I met her while I was in NYC. We talked for a whole 20 seconds, and she signed my playbill from The Addams Family, which she starred in on Broadway. This was my first, but hopefully not last, celebrity encounter. More details to come in the upcoming NYC post.


I promised I would spare Ms. Shields, and not put my photo of her online. I`m sure she won`t notice.

Ireland- A few weeks ago we booked a trip to Ireland. We leave on Friday. It will be nothing but us, a rental car, a guidebook and a map for 12 glorious days on the Emerald Isle. Oh, and we will be meeting up with some Danish friends for the last few days in Dublin.


Northern Ireland. Via

Ryan Gosling- Okay, he has been bringing me happiness for a lot longer than 5 weeks, but I am putting him on the list because I watched two of his newest movies (Crazy, Stupid, Love and Drive) in the given time frame. I am also dying to see his latest (and I am guessing will be one of his greatest) flick, The Ides of March, which should already be out in North America, you lucky, lucky people on that continent. It will probably take 4 months to get to Denmark. I ~~love~~ respect him not only for his stellar acting and smouldering good looks, but this guy also often brings his mom as his date to events, breaks up civilian fights in the middle of NYC, and travels to the Congo to witness and document the ravaging effects of war there, in hopes to raise money for the cause. Need I say more?

King Curtis- This is a clip from an episode of Wife Swap. Yes, apparently that show still exists. Henry introduced me to King Curtis. I am not sure when he started watching Wife Swap, or more importantly, why, that is another post in itself. In all honesty though, the concept behind the King`s behaviour is rather sad. But, all the same, he remains a sweet, hilarious, opinionated, charming in a bratty sort of way little boy. This video clip will make you seriously LoL, and very likely will melt your heart a little too.

What has brought you happiness over the last few weeks?

I'm Back!

2011-10-09T20:35:00.002+02:00

Hey everyone! Remember me? It's Lindsay. The Canadian girl with multiple absurd obsessions, that moved to Denmark with a man who once told her she looked like a "cozy Christmas bear" when she was wearing a chunky knit sweater. It's not as awful as it sounds, trust me. You can read the full story here.

It has been an entire month since I have posted anything, so let me brief you on what has been going on. After living in Denmark for 8 months, I returned to Canada to attend a close friend's wedding, spend time with family, and refill my empty bank account. I was home for 10 weeks. Those 10 weeks were nothing but hectic. Basically, I spent the majority of my time working 12 hour shifts at the local nursing home. On my days off, I did manage to squeeze in some time to read/purchase lots of new books that I am really excited about, indulge in over 30 magazines (if you didn't already know, I have a serious addiction), see some wonderful movies, move my sister to University, watch my niece learn to walk, attend great parties with great friends, and go on a whirlwind 4 day trip to New York City. It was exhausting, but being that busy made the time go by incredibly fast.

I arrived back in Denmark on Friday. As I got ready early Thursday morning for my trans-Atlantic adventure, I tried my hardest to look pretty for Henry. You know, to remind him that I was worth all that waiting. Well, by the time I landed at the airport in Denmark 3 flights, 30+ hours, 5 times zones, no toothbrush and not a wink of sleep later, let's just say my plan had failed. Big time. It was down right frightening.

More frightening than my appearance at that point, was my 7 hour flight from Montreal to Paris. A lady directly behind me vomited excessively, surrounding us in the most rancid, awful scent imaginable. The lady in front of me passed out and was laid out across the four middle seats while the flight attendants and random passengers (including a doctor, which meant I wast totally off the hook from helping out) brought her around. There were no less than 3 babies on board crying frequently (I felt almost as bad for the parents as I did for myself). The lady on my left was manic, hyperactive, and kept invading my personal space, which there wasn't much of to begin with. And as if that wasn't enough to make me want to jump out of the emergency exit doors from 35,000 feet in the air, the man on my right spent half the flight snoring away. Loudly. It was the most claustrophobic, uncomfortable, agitating, heart palpitation inducing flight I have ever experienced. But, it was worth every nauseating second to finally be reunited with Henry.

He greeted me at the airport looking incredibly handsome (unfortunately I can't say the same for myself), holding a generous bouquet of stunning, scarlet red roses. In the van he had packed my favorite blanket, pillows, and a bag of ketchup chips. Ketchup chips are my all time fave, and although they don't taste the same on this side of the Atlantic, I was still impressed by the thoughtfulness, and was super grateful for the blankets and pillows, which made for a much needed, super comfy 1.5 hour drive home from the airport. And the surprises didn't end there. When we got home I found the apartment spotlessly clean and stocked with dark chocolate, wine, ice cream, my favorite tooth paste, and Henry even cooked us a delicious supper. Hmmm...perhaps I should go away more often.

It feels great to be back in Europe, and ever better to back with Henry. I have finally managed to get unpacked, and am all settled in now. It feels like I never left. So, now I will have plenty of time to get back to blogging. I have missed writing immensely, and missed reading all of your lovely, inspirational blogs (you know who you are) even more! If you think I have forgotten about you, not a chance! I am so looking forward to catching up on all of your funny stories, exciting adventures, priceless advice, inspiring photos and fashion tips! We are heading to Ireland for a two week holiday this Friday, but I am dedicating every day from now until then to catching up on your blogs, and hopefully posting some interesting, fun things for all of you too.

Scandal & Romance

2011-09-08T08:50:00.000+02:00

Birthdays are my favorite holiday. Well, technically they are not full on holidays, but I try my hardest to treat mine as such. Personally, I think I have the greatest birthday one could possibly possess. September 2nd. Why is September 2nd the best day on earth to be born? Because it most generally falls on the Labour Day weekend. The last long weekend of the summer. The weather is still really nice, everyone is in the holiday spirit, and there are usually plenty of exciting things going on during my birthday weekend.

Instead of one day to celebrate the birth of me, I like to make an entire ~~weekend~~ week of it. Exactly what I did for my 26th birthday this year. It started out on Wednesday with an amazing birthday dinner, wine and desserts (yes, I meant to make that plural), with my mom and sisters.

My sisters and I at the birthday dinner. It's a Blackberry shot, hence the graininess.

On Thursday, I travelled all the way to the city (remember I am currently residing on a fairly remote Island) for some birthday fun with one of my best friends. We lunched, shopped (where I found buy one get one free jeans and buy 3 get 1 free books...Happy Birthday to me), and she treated me to an evening at one of my favorite places on earth, the movies ( we saw Our Idiot Brother. Way better than it looks in the previews). Thanks Katie!

Friday, my actual birthday, was one of the best birthdays I have had in recent years. At least as far as I can remember. Katie and I started the day out at the nail salon, another one of my favorite places on earth. When we arrived for our appointments, the receptionist confirmed that I was in fact Lindsay, and asked me if I was the bride. I was very confused at her question, but replied with, "I am no bride, but I am a birthday girl." That answer seemed to suffice, and she instructed me to follow her to the back saying, "we have something for you." Again, I was confused, but it sounded exciting. When I got to the mani/pedi room, I found the most incredible bouquet of pink lilies, roses, and other flowers I don't know the name of, sitting on the table. They were from Henry! He sneakily e-mailed Katie for the address to the salon and time of our appointment, so he could call from Denmark to have flowers delivered to me. They were gorgeous! I loved them! And so did all the salon ladies.

So pretty!

Thanks Henry! You are the best!

So that would be where the birthday romance came in. Well, that and a little poem that a certain someone sent to my e-mail using words like "colorful hair" and "shiny teeth." I would share the entire work of art for you all here, but something tells me that wouldn't earn me any future hilarious and sweet e-mail poems.

The birthday scandalousness was found in the form of nail polish. Before the pedi lady prepped me for polish, she sent me over to pick out my colors. I browsed their substantial stash of polishes from the Cheeky Monkey line and couldn't help but gasp at some of their names. Camel Toe, Sweet Ass, Pearl Necklace (and I don't think they mean the jewelry kind), Trailer Trash, Wet Dream, Nympho, and Pop My Cherry, were some of the less brazen titles in the line. I was a bit flabbergasted by it all, but eventually, I spied a gorgeous shade of red that I desperately wanted on my toes. I snatched up the bottle, and hesitantly proclaimed to my pedicure lady, "I guess I would like the Hot Slut."

Picture from: http://www.polishgalore.com/

My pedi lady informed me that Cheeky Monkey is a fairly new polish line released by a 'cheeky' Canadian woman who believes that, "All women should feel free to express their personal edginess. You work hard, make responsible choices and embrace life to the fullest. Engage the cheeky side of things – you get the joke." The polishes are also environmentally friendly and 3 Free healthy. The website showcases their wide range of pretty colors, and even includes the story behind all of those scandalous names. You will also find a cocktail recepie to match each polish. I highly suggest a visit to their site HERE. The stories are interesting, clever and often downright hilarious. And pick up some of their polish while you are at it. They are lovely, regardless of what their names may suggest.

The scandalous and romantic morning at the salon was followed by an amazing lunch of far too much delicious food and yes, more shopping. Note to self: consume the ginormous birthday lunch after you go shopping next time. Then my friend and I headed to our old haunt, an Irish pub in the city we lived together in for four years during university. While we had a fun night out on the town, my favorite part was getting the massive piece of delicious Jack's pizza and eating it the whole cab ride home, and then continued to eat it as I laid in bed, until finally I ended up in a pizza induced coma. It takes that long to eat one piece.

Katie & I ready for our night out.

As I mentioned above, I celebrate my birthday for pretty much an entire week. This year I made an exception. The day following my birthday was the day my baby sister moved into her dorm at University. So, being the amazing sister that I am, I generously dedicated my day to her and helped her move in, unpack, decoarte and shop for college life necessities. It was a really fun day, and almost made me wish I was doing it all over again. Although I have to say, I wasn't exactly in prime condition for all of the loud music, yelling, enthusiasm, and horn honking that went on all day long on campus. I may wish I could do it all over again, but clearly, I have gotten too old.

I closed the nearly week long festivites by taking a personal, guilt free day on Sunday. This involved nothing but laying around watching ridiculous reality tv, snacking, and reading my new book, Unbearable Lightness, by Portia de Rossi (aka Ellen DeGeneres's wife). Her personal, candid account of her battle with an eating disorder and coming out of the closet is baffling, inspiring, heart breaking and eye opening. An addictive read!

Thanks to everyone who made my birthday week so fun and awesome! It was the best. How do you guys celebrate your birthdays?

PS: We both got a french manicure on our nails with shellac polish. If you haven't shellaced before, you must! It is amazing! It dries instantly, and supposedly lasts for up to 3 weeks. Mine has been on for 1 week already and there is not a single tiny chip yet. I am in love!

PPS: I don't actually go crazy for a week every year my birthday rolls around. I certainly like the idea of it though, and had a blast doing it this year. I would highly recommend it.

PPPS: My spell checker isn't working, so please, don't mind the errors.

Going The Distance

2011-08-27T22:25:00.000+02:00

Long distance relationships are no fun. In fact, I can't think of anything less fun than being 5,277 km (3,279 mi) away from your amazing, wonderful, studly, hilarious boyfriend. I could go on, but I think it embarrasses Henry when I gush about him. We have tried the long distance thing before, living roughly a one hour drive apart, and seeing each other every weekend. Does that even qualify for a long distance title? Well, whether it counts or not, it wasn't what I would call fun. But what I do know, is that one half of a couple living in Denmark, while the other half lives in Canada, definitely qualifies as long distance, and long distance relationships of the international variety are by far the worst kind.

Although it could be worse, I still think this is too far.

Skype makes the whole long distance thing bearable. We have Skype dates daily. I love Skype because it allows me to see and hear Henry in real time, every single day, free of charge. I hate Skype because I spend most of our chats watching myself, rather than Henry. Wow...that sounds vain.

I do not watch myself because I enjoy staring at my appearance. I do it because I am human. Because us humans never get to see what exactly what we look like when we are conversing with another person. It is virtually impossible. Unless you are Skyping. I watch myself during our conversations because I am curious to see what he sees. To see what I must look like in his eyes. To make sure whatever that is, it is looking good. It's only natural. Right? Someone please tell me I am right.

Although my main purpose is to ensure I look irresistibly beautiful and appealing for the duration of our conversations, it doesn't take much to throw my mission off course. For example, I get particularly distracted by observing my own facial expressions in response to what he is saying. If he says something confusing, I am instantly lost in that one minuscule ~~wrinkle~~ fine line that has decided to make an appearance on my 26 year old forehead when I express confusion. If he says something funny, I end up baffled by the slightly crooked smile I never realized I had.

When I am not busy being distracted by the discovery of tell tale signs of aging on my face, I get back to focusing on my main mission: achieving and maintaining a state of irresistible beauty. A challenging mission, to say the least. Henry will be smack in the middle of telling me a story, and instead of paying attention, I catch myself testing out different angles with my head, on the never ending mission to discover the most flattering position. Once I find a suitable head position, I work on my eyes. Skype seems to make my eyes look closed and small. Probably because they are always angled down, staring at my image in the little window at the bottom of my screen. Pursuing the attractiveness of the bright, wide eyed look involves a lot of eyebrow raising and unsightly eyeball bulging. I wonder if he has ever noticed these moves? Let's hope not.

And let's not forget about all the hair adjusting that goes on during a one hour session of staring at yourself on video. It goes a little something like this: Put it in a ponytail. Try a higher ponytail. How about a messy chignon? It's a no-go. Take out the up-do and shake it all up. Put it all over one shoulder. Then try over both shoulders. It never ends. Quite frankly, the whole ordeal is exhausting.

It is a rare, and rather unfortunate thing to be able to watch yourself partaking in normal, everyday conversation. As bothersome and self destructive as it is, I can't seem to tear my eyes away. I continuously have to remind myself to look at that handsome boyfriend of mine, who I miss so much, and stop fussing over my own appearance. I tried closing the window that contains my image, but it's like I am possessed. Without my permission, my fingers will sneakily click the window back open, not long after I have made it disappear. And I have to wonder, is Henry as fascinated by his own appearance during conversation as I am? Are any of you like this when you Skype?

Kind of like Narcissus, but with an ulterior motive.

The Skype madness doesn't end with me watching myself. I often get caught inspecting what is going on in the background, completely zoned out of the conversation. Not too long ago, he busted me staring at a pile of dishes stacked on the counter behind him. When he figured out what I was doing, he quickly informed me that: "I am going to do up those dishes later." I promptly reminded him, he is living alone at the moment, so he should keep the place however he sees fit. That was a lie, though. I actually don't agree with that statement at all. I was just trying to be the cool, nonchalant girlfriend, who thinks it is perfectly acceptable to live in a mess.

Seeing the disaster area that was our kitchen, prompted me to ask him to take me on a tour of the entire apartment. He really didn't want to, but I begged. I pleaded. I maybe even employed some tactics of trickery, by saying I really missed our place and wanted to look at it again. Not an outright lie, but truthfully, I was just curious to see precisely how messy one man could make a 47 meter squared apartment, with his girlfriend on a different continent.

It was a good thing I was sitting down for the duration of the tour. He was using one of the kitchen chairs as a dirty laundry basket. A habit I have been working tirelessly to break. The thin, purple, cushions that belong on the kitchen chairs had turned into couch pillows. Did I mention that we already keep 4 perfectly comfortable, fluffy, decorative pillows on the couch? I didn't dare ask what they were now being used for. But, the real devastation was found in the bedroom. Our bed was unmade. Not just unmade, but a complete tangle of duvets, a rumpled, un-tucked fitted sheet, and not a single pillow on the bed, where normally there are four. Where have all the pillows gone? I opted out of seeing the bathroom, to avoid having a stroke. If you are unaware of my obsession with my bed, read this post: Sleeping Arrangements.

Okay, I better stop talking about this now, because I can see myself getting in really big trouble for writing this paragraph. But let me try to counteract the impending wrath of Henry, by mentioning that he has kept my orchid, my pride and joy, alive and well, and looking as gorgeous as ever. I killed a cactus plant once, so keeping the orchid that I have had since February alive for this long has been a grand achievement for me.

Good job keeping her alive for me Henry!

I managed to bite my tongue, and said nothing about the state of disarray our apartment was in, although I am sure my baffled and horrified expressions gave me away. Remember, I was trying to pull of the cool, I-can-handle-messiness girlfriend thing. But he knows me to well to fall for that, and tried to give me an explanation anyway, without me having to ask for one. He told me that he was just enjoying the one bright spot to me not being there: that cleaning had now become optional. Cleaning is not an option when I live there. It is a necessity, and is essential to our well being.

At first I was offended by his reasoning, and replied in a sad voice, accompanied by an even sadder face: "I don't see any bright spots at all to being away from you." But then I got to thinking: there must be something I am feeling liberated from, now that we are apart. And there is. Shaving. Well, it is summer, so it has to be done every now and again, but since there is no one in my bed to get freaked out or disgusted when a furry leg brushes up against them in the night, it doesn't happen with anywhere near as much frequency.

So, at this point, we are one month into our temporary long distance relationship, with only one more to go. We are coping by:

Skype chats daily. Which by the way, I have now graduated from full on crying when we hang up, to only getting teary eyed. Go me!
Sending thoughtful gifts via snail mail. Well, so far that has only been me, but I am hoping Henry will take the hint and send me something back. My return address can be found on the packages, in case you were looking for it Henry.
I made a collage of pictures of us on vacations, and hung it on my bedroom wall. I also use one of my favorite photos of us in Berlin as a bookmark. Is that corny? If it is, then I didn't do it, and am totally joking.
Enjoying what we can't enjoy when we live together. For him, that is living in a pig sty. For me, that is growing body hair. Ewww...that sounds really gross! It's not that bad, I promise.

So what about you guys? How do you cope with long distance relationships? I would love some advice, to help get me through these next few, lonely weeks!

PS: I'm sorry for writing another super long post! I know blog readers don't like anything too lengthy. I tried to add a few pictures to make it more visually interesting for you. And I promise, I will try to stop posting novels from now on!

Prince Edward Island

2011-08-25T21:57:00.000+02:00

Prince Edward Island is the smallest province in Canada, both in size and population. I like to think of it as small, but mighty. The Island is nothing short of stunning, both in the form of landscape and the hospitable, neighborly attitudes of it's people, and has more claims to fame than you might think. In no particular order, here they are:

1. Red Dirt

This gorgeous, unique, rusty shade of sand and soil comes from the breakdown of red, iron rich sandstone. Not only is it easy on the eyes, but it is perfect for growing food.

The red, rocky shore in Cavendish.

The ocean beats the red rock into amazing shapes, consistencies and colors.

2. Beaches

PEI boasts over 800 kms (497 mi) of sandy beaches, and the warmest waters north of the Carolinas, reaching up to 25 ºC (77ºF) in the heart of the summer.Visual stimulation is perpetual here, with the various shades and textures of sand, the endless stretches of tepid ocean, and the emerald, grass capped sand dunes.

Cavendish beach.

3. The Confederation Bridge

Getting to an island requires either taking a bridge or a ferry. PEI has both. The Confederation Bridge, recently completed in 1997, is the longest in the world at 12.9 kilometers, and the most convenient way to get to the island. A bridge toll must be paid when you leave the island, but it is worth every cent of the $45.

A small part of The Confederation Bridge.

This shot, from fanpop.com, showcases the length and curvature of the bridge.

4. Potato Fields

The Island produces 1.3 billion kilograms of potatoes annually, which is about 1/2 of what the state of Idaho produces, and they have a population 10 times that of PEI. While ocean surrounds the coasts, the mainland is covered in lush green potato fields, topped with their delicate, ivory blossoms.

Via

5. Anne of Green Gables

Anne of Green Gables, written by Canadian author Lucy Maude Montgomery, is the classic story of a flame haired orphan girl who was mistakenly sent to a couple that was expecting a boy, but they decided to keep her, regardless of the gender mix up. The setting of the story is based on the authors own experiences in a Cavendish, PEI farmhouse, which is now a popular tourist destination. If you haven't read it, do it. Trust me.

Via

6. Unconventional methods of dealing with child neglect.

A cute sign found in a souvenir shop in Cavendish. PEI-ers are very diligent about recycling.

7. Sunsets

I'm not exactly sure if PEI is 'known' for its sunsets. If it is not, it should be. It has some of the most gorgeous sunsets I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes on.

So, trust me (and my photos) when I say, if you ever find yourself in Atlantic Canada, don't leave without a trip to Prince Edward Island. You won't be disappointed.

Unconventional Whale Watching

2011-08-23T21:13:00.001+02:00

Being from an Island, surrounded on all sides by the incredible ocean, provides ample opportunities to see whales frolicking in their natural habitats. The fishermen spend their days on the water, so of course they see them frequently. Occasionally there will be a sighting when you're on the ferry, crossing over to 'the other side.' Tourists fork out money or travel to great distances, without a seconds hesitation, to go on a professional whale watching tour. Islanders, however, tend to get their whale fix in a bit more of an unconventional manner. They go out to sea on their own terms, free of charge, on a lobster fishing boat that belongs to one of the men in their lives.

One of my best friends came all the way across the country to visit me and the maritimes, so naturally, I had to hook her up with a whale watching experience in true Island style. This involves...

... a lobster boil

This is only part of the pile of lobsters we cooked.

Poor guy! This is why I don't eat lobster. They are too cute, and they scream when you put them in the boiling water.

... live music

We had an entire drum set lowered onto the boat with the heist. The guitar player is sitting on lobster traps.


Andrea, my friend from BC, impressing us with her drum skills.

... a DJ and his turn tables

That's me, learning how to use the turntables with DJ Fogg.

... ginormous flotation devices

...swimming

But only if you are brave enough to do it the freezing cold ocean. I wasn't.

...pets

We tow this smaller boat behind the big fishing boat, for easier access to the wharf. This sweet dog decided to take a solo ride.

...classic Island scenery


We sailed around Swallowtail Lighthouse, the most famous one on our Island, and the most photographed lighthouse in Atlantic Canada.

... a stunning sunset

Watching the sun set into the water from the bow of the boat.

...and of course, whales!

I feel so fortunate to live with the ocean at my fingertips. To be surrounded by breathtaking views no matter where I look. To breathe in the fresh salt water air 24 hours a day. To be able to see these gorgeous sea creatures pretty much any time my heart desires. Being home this time around, I have realized that I don't take advantage of these opportunities anywhere near enough. So, with that being said, I am off to the beach, book in hand, to soak up the fresh air, the stunning view, and to listen to the waves crash on the sand.

There's No Place Like Home

2011-08-19T03:34:00.002+02:00

Wow...it feels like eons have gone by since I last posted. In actuality, it has only been two weeks. I am a bit of an exaggerator, yes, but I do it for dramatic effect. It drives Henry crazy. The reason I have been so slack with the blog is because I have been super busy enjoying life in my home land, working to refill my bank account, and indulging in all of my obsessions that I thought Denmark may have cured me of. Come to find out, not only am I not cured of these unnecessary indulgences, I am even more obsessed than I was before.

Before I get into details about all of my indulgences, I have to say this: Although I enjoyed my time in Denmark, and am far more excited to return in a few weeks than I thought I would be, it feels good to be home. Like really, really good. Like crawling in to a clean, comfortable bed in a pitch black room after working a 12 hour night shift good. Like getting a massage good. Like winning $1,355.00 at Bingo with your grandfather good, which actually happened to me the first week I was home.

I experienced my first warm and fuzzy, 'I am beyond happy I am Canadian and returning to Canada' feelings while standing in line to board my flight from Frankfurt, Germany, to Toronto. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to carry on after the dramatic parting of ways between Henry and I, and trust me, I am not exaggerating when I use the word dramatic, but these feelings of homeyness helped me pull through. But before I get to that, let me elaborate on what I like to call The Parting of Ways.

Henry was quite civil through it all, as usual, but I can't really say the same for myself. As we sat in the airport, tortuously passing the time until I had to go through security, I cried like a baby. Okay, I am exaggerating again, because babies make a lot of noise when they cry, and I prefer to be quiet in public. But there were tears and sniffles involved, and complete ruination of my makeup occurred. The inevitable parting of ways came far too quickly, and as I walked him to the door, I cried some more. This time not so quietly. I might have even hyperventilated a little. And then there was the hugging. Lots and lots of public hugging. I am not one to partake in much PDA (public displays of affection), but this was a special circumstance.

When I finally mustered up the strength to let him make his own departure, I sulkily stood in the window, waving good bye as I watched him walk away. I dramatically placed my palms up against the glass and let out a maddening cry of agony as I sank to the floor. Okay, I didn't really do that, but I kind of felt like it. That probably would have been overkill though.

I made my weary way over to the security line up. I missed him already, so I changed my plan. Instead of security, I decided to chase him down, and took off running for the door. I could see him quite far ahead, walking to the parking lot, so I yelled out his name. He came back. I am pretty sure he was mortified. I hugged him and cried some more. Unfortunately, due to airport time constraints, I had to tear myself away. It was no easy feat. The whole scene was straight out of one of those awful TV movies my grandmother loves so much.

Now, if the case was that Henry was heading off for a years deployment in Iraq, or something to that effect, this whole scene might have been cute. Touching even. Pathetically enough though, it was just me, going back to Canada for 4 to 6 weeks to make some money, attend a good friends wedding, and spend time with my family before returning back to Denmark. How nauseating is that?

Now, let`s get back to my warm and fuzzy, 'I am beyond happy I am Canadian and returning to Canada' experiences. The first one came as I sat in one of the tiny, uncomfortable, blue faux leather seats at the gate for my Air Canada flight to Toronto, recovering from my Oscar worthy dramatics and devouring my beloved Glamour magazine. I was brought out of my reverie by a sound that I had not heard in a long time. One of the most joyous sounds on this planet. The Canadian accent.

Some of you might find the sound of your baby's laughter, or the sounds of ocean waves crashing on the beach to be a bit more joyous, but as a Canadian who was away from Canada for a long period of time, it was music to my ears. Hearing it brought me straight up in my seat. I even put my magazine down so I could bask in all the glory of that comforting Canadian twang. I watched strangers approach each other and start up conversations, asking the other where they were from, where they had traveled, and genuinely anticipating the answers. I adored it. A huge smile crawled across my face as I witnessed Canadian friendliness at its finest.

My second warm and fuzzy experience came via the flight attendant. I had nestled myself into the middle of a four seat row of strangers, which was to be my home for the next 9 hours. Clearly not an ideal seating arrangement for such a long flight, but that is what you get for traveling alone. Trying to get comfortable was a near impossible task in this situation, and all of my futile attempts to do so induced minor heart palpitations in my chest. Perhaps if I had never got bumped to first class that one, luxurious time, then I wouldn't have minded it so much. Ignorance truly is bliss.

Since I couldn't find a comfortable position, I shot daggers with my eyes at the people sitting behind the blue first class curtain, with their legs stretched out in their single seats, hot towels being delivered to them on a silver platter. I still haven't figured out the purpose of the hot towels, but I would have given my left hand to be sitting in first class and given the option. I was right in the middle of plotting how to get myself sent to first class, when the flight attendant came by with the drink cart and made everything better.

No, he didn't heal me with wine, as you might have predicted. I was far easier to please than that on this particular day. Instead, I opted for a Canada Dry ginger ale, which I don't normally order, but under the circumstances, it seemed a most perfect choice. When he handed me the entire ice cold can, my heart soared. Usually they only give you two mouthfuls of a warm beverage, served in a plastic cup. Just when I thought things couldn't get any better, he asked me, "would you like a glass of ice with that?" and my heart nearly burst in happiness. "Would I?!" I exclaimed."There is nothing I would love more!" I was ecstatic.

As I have mentioned before, there is not a lot of ice cube action happening in Denmark. In fact, I can count on one had the number of times I had ice in my drink over the last 8 months, because selling it by the bag isn't that common, and my freezer wasn't big enough to hold an ice cube tray. Between the ice cubes, the Canadian accent in the air, a surprisingly delightful hot airplane meal, and the entire 8 episodes of The Kennedys at my fingertips, I was in heaven. Or as close to it as you can get at 35,000 feet.

The goodness doesn't end there. I was picked up at the airport by one of my best friends. Since it was nearly one in the morning when I landed, she swept me away to her house, where she had turned her spare room into a cute, cozy guest room just for my arrival, complete with soft, fluffy towels and 4 rectangular pillows (the square pillows in Denmark don't really do it for me). As if that wasn't good enough, she also served me an amazing late night meal of ketchup chips and a huge bowl of Kraft Dinner. Healthy eh? (That's Canadian for- that's really not healthy is it?). I didn't care at that point. I was exhausted, starving, and ready for some good old Canadian indulgences that I hadn't had in awhile. Even though I felt instantly nauseated after the last bite of KD, I enjoyed every second of it.

Aside from my first meal of macaroni and cheese from a box and ketchup chips, I have been indulging in magazines, which I am definitely addicted to, books, and the newest releases at the movie theater. In the 3 weeks that I have been home I have accumulated 13 magazines, and read them all cover to cover. I have bought 4 novels and rented 2 more from the library. Being surrounded in English reading material has put me in a manic state, where I can't stop reading. I even had two books on the go at once last week. I did take a break from reading long enough to see three movies in the theater: Crazy Stupid Love, The Help, and The Change Up. All definitely worth watching.

But I haven't just been indulging. I have also been spending loads of time with my family, constantly being amazed by my one year old niece's crazy antics, and exploring the maritimes with some of my very best friends. All of it has been great, and I believe this is the first time I have truly enjoyed and appreciated being home so much. All that being said, and not that I am wishing my time at home away, but the countdown is on until I return to the land of Henry.

PS: Sorry for the long, picture-less post this time. I hope I didn't put you to sleep. There will be lots to come though in the next few posts about my trip to the gorgeous Prince Edward Island, walking on the ocean floor, and an unconventional whale watching adventure.

PPS: For a list of the latest books I am reading, or am about to read, click HERE.

Books Galore!

2011-08-19T03:33:00.000+02:00

Since I have been back in Canada, I haven't been able to get enough of English books. I have a stack piled up beside my bed waiting for me to plow through them. I always love coming across book recommendations, so I thought I would share with you what I am currently reading, and what is coming up next.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins- I just finished this one, and I loved it! I could not put it down. There has been a lot of hype about this book for awhile now, and I am a little behind the times, but better late than never. I am not even giving you an explanation about this one. Just read it. You will love it. Trust me.

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins- The sequel to The Hunger Games. I am starting this one the second I finish my current read. I can't wait!

Left Neglected by Lisa Genova, author of Still Alice. A story about a busy, successful, career oriented mother of three, who suffers a traumatic brain injury. Sounds seriously depressing, but is surprisingly witty and positive.

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton- Like her first novel, The Forgotten Garden, this is the story of a family full of secrets, lies and betrayal. I am only 60 pages in, but so far, so good.

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand- I have this one on order at the library, but have heard nothing but good things about it. It is the true story of a WWII survivor who crashes his plane into the Pacific ocean, and tries to survive with only a life raft made of wreckage debris.

The Ape House by Sara Gruen, author of Water For Elephants- Honestly, I know nothing about this book. I saw it at the library, and am hoping I will love it just as much as Water For Elephants.

Fall of Giants by Ken Follett- This is a massive historical novel, the first in a trilogy that takes place over a whole century. I loved his Pillars of the Earth series, so I figure I will love this one too. I have a lot on my plate when it comes to reading though, so I will probably end up saving this one for my return to Denmark.

So what do you think of my current list of reads, and what are you guys reading?

Blast From the Past: Cancun, Mexico

2011-08-02T14:47:00.000+02:00

Back in November of 2009, one of my best friends and I decided on a whim that we needed a vacation. Not just any vacation. A hot and sunny, all inclusive, beach vacation. We chose Cancun.

Cancun is pretty much the tropical version of Las Vegas. A strip of resorts along the most gorgeous, sandy beaches, interspersed with plenty of wild night clubs, restaurants, shopping, and tourist attractions.

There is a lot going in this lovely, yet oh so commercialized city in paradise. Here is a short list of Dos & Don'ts to keep in mind, should you ever find yourself in Cancun.

Do: Leave the resort and go on excursions.

At the Mayan Ruins on the Yucatan Peninsula.

Inside a cenote, where they supposedly sacrificed the Mayans.

Don't: Be fooled by these impersonators, who pretend to be statues. If you do not realize they are fake and take a picture without paying, they will make you pose with them....

I got mobbed by 'The Mask'

...they will pick you up, even though you loathe being picked up...

...and they will make you touch them in places you may not want to touch them.

Do: Enjoy the nightly entertainment at your resort. The drinks are free, the shows are usually good, and it is a good opportunity to mingle with other fun guests from your resort.

Do: Go on the ever popular Booze Cruise. Ours lasted from morning to night, included free food and drinks, took us snorkeling and swimming with whale sharks, sailed us by Brad Pitt's yacht (who was vacationing in the nearby Cozumel at the time), took us to another island off of Cancun, and supplied me with enough liquid courage to try the sketchy, unharnessed para sailing ride. Money well spent.

Brad's yacht, complete with a helicopter.

Sweet pelicans on the Island Mujeres.

Holding some species of whale shark.

That's me, ready to go snorkeling.

That is not me, but I had my turn after this guy. Scary!

Don't: Be alarmed if the bar tender comes at you with a huge knife, instead of the scissors you asked for, to cut the hanger straps off of your dress. Do: Remember to tip anyone packing that size of a knife very well!

I may have had some tequila prior to allowing him to come at me with that knife.

Do: Attend a foam party.

Wear something that you won't mind never seeing again.

Don't: Get that toxic foam in your mouth or eyes, if you can help it.

I was practically blind after an evening dancing in that horrific foam.

Do: Try the local delicacies, even if they look scary.

This was mashed up veggies wrapped up in a banana leaf. Far tastier than it sounds.

Don't: Actually drive when the taxi driver lets you get behind the wheel. Even if you really, really want to take it for a spin.

Yup, that's me behind the wheel. Not quite sure where the cabbie went.

Do: Hydrate and float all day long. Especially the day after a foam party!


Bring your own flotation device, it is so worth it!

Do: Choose a resort that is directly on the beach...

The lobby of Oasis Viva Beach, which steps right out onto the beach.

...with the sprawling, crystal clear ocean at your fingertips

Perfection!

...and with gorgeous sunset views

Nothing to complain about with this view every night.

Doing this post has made me super excited, and determined to take a tropical vacation this winter. Suggestions on where to go anyone?

PS: I have been super busy and out of town the last week, and will be next week too. Big apologies for being so slack on keeping up with all of your blogs, and returning the comment love. As soon as things settle down, I will get back on track. Thank you all sooooo much for your votes at FTLOB, I am excited to say I won the Best in Travel blog! I have the best blog readers ever, and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to vote. Hope you all are enjoying your summer as much as I am, and will see you around soon!

Blast From the Past: Punta Cana, Dominican Republic

2011-07-27T14:59:00.000+02:00

I spent 2 weeks of the 2009 winter with two of my best friends in the gorgeous, tropical, Caribbean country of the Dominican Republic. It was nothing short of amazing, but there were some lessons to be learned.

Here are some Do's and Dont's for when traveling to the Dominican Republic:

Do: Go on excursions even though you may witness disgusting things...

The Snake Man. Yes he is putting the snake in his mouth.

...or, get asked for money by a threatening 10 year old and his machete, or possibly kill yourself driving your own jeep in the middle of insane Dominican traffic.

Posing with our ride for the day.

Do: Choose a resort with submerged tanning chairs. You will not be sorry.

Heaven.

Do: Open your mind to trying new things.

A cocoa plant. Once you suck off the slimy white stuff, you get to a cocoa bean. Not as bad as it looks.

Don't: Be offended if the horse you ride is smaller than you. It is common in these parts.

Although horseback riding was fun, it felt a little wrong.

Do: Make lots of friends at your resort!

We met so many fun travelers.

Don't: Forget to apply sunscreen. Liberally. Every hour.

Ouch!

Do: Understand that the snacks laying around the resort after dark are sketchy and appear to be something you should not be consuming. After several cocktails, and with plenty of ketchup, however, they turn out to be rather tasty.

Don't ask. We didn't.

Don't: Forget to hit up your local dollar store and load up on items to give to children you run into off the resort. Or, bring things from home. Jewelry, hair accessories, small toys and toiletries are big hits.

Seeing this sweet girl so happy about the nail polish we gave her made my whole trip.

Don't: Be shy about bargaining with people who try to charge you for a photo with their animals. I brought the owner of this lizard a cheeseburger from the resort, in exchange for some time with his scary, angry pet. Foolish? Yes, yes it was.

This lizard was not too fond of me. He was hissing and scratching the whole time!

Do: Be aware that strange animals bite. Parrots included!

He didn't bite me, but did get one of my friends. Looks can be deceiving.

Don't: Fall asleep in a the gas chambers (aka the tiny buses reeking of gas that take you off the resort). A useful piece of advice given to us by people who were quick to wake up my friend every time she nodded off during our fume filled bus ride home from a cave party.

Wide awake with no worries at this point.

Do: Realize the life jackets will not necessarily save your life.

Not feeling to confident in this contraption.

Don't: Attempt to pick coconuts in the same fashion that the resort staff does.

See the guy in the top of the tree? Ladders are useless to him.

Don't: Be afraid of taking a wild tube ride, Dominican style. Do: Make sure you have travel insurance. There is a strong chance you may incur a minor case of whiplash from this insane ride.

Remember to keep your mouth closed. Although the sheer terror induces screams impossible to control.

This is right around when I got the whiplash.

Or maybe that was here.

Every time I look at these pictures I end up in hysterics. It was even scarier than it looks if you can imagine.

Don't: Go parasailing hungover. I nearly threw up on my friend, who was strapped into my crotch. I begged her to send the guys below a signal to bring us down. Unfortunately, we soaring above the palm trees, so there was no way they were going to notice our futile attempts to get down.

Yup, that is us. I will probably never do this again.

Have you learned any lessons the hard way while traveling?

Looking For a Summer Read?

2011-07-24T09:20:00.000+02:00

Okay, I am a little bit behind the times on this one, because this book was so last summer, but better late than never. I have been reading this hefty, 963 page book non stop for the last few days. A couple of nights ago I stayed awake until nearly 3am ferociously turning the pages, dying to find out what was going to happen next. I finished it up last night, and the string of closing events had me shouting out loud things like- What? No way? Stop! Don't do it! Noooo!- that have convinced Henry he needs to read this one next.

As with most excellent stories, when the reader reaches the end, they are left feeling happy to have reached the conclusion, but sad that the journey is over. This book is a different story (pun intended). After devouring the story (trust me, you will devour it), you are left with a sense of enlightenment when it comes to everything that has happened, but because it is this first of a trilogy, a lot of unfinished business remains. Sadly, finishing this book leaves you with no feelings of happiness. All you want is more.

This first novel concludes with so many different cliffhangers (the one you discover on the final page is perhaps the most enticing cliffhanger in the history of cliffhangers), that as I closed the book, I was overcome with an insane curiosity and outrageous hunger to get my hands on the next one. Unfortunately, the sequel does not come out until 2012. That's right, 2012! This book was so enticing, so mysterious, so creepy, and so simply astonishing, that I have no idea how I am going to continue living until 2012 without the second book. And don't even get me started on the third and final book, which doesn't come out until 2014, meaning I will be practically 30 by the time I complete this stunning trilogy!

I guess now would be a good time to tell you what book I am talking about. The Passage, by Justin Cronin. I am not even going to attempt to tell you about the story on my own, because I will end up giving too much away, and trust me, there is a lot of craziness to give away. Here is the description on the back of the book:

"Amy Harper Bellafonte is six years old and her mother thinks she is the most important person in the whole world. She is. Anthony Carter doesn't think he could ever be in a worse place than Death Row. He's wrong. FBI agent Brad Wolgast thinks something beyond his imagination is coming. It is. Unaware of each others existence, but bound together in ways none of them could have imagined, they are about to embark on a journey. An epic journey that will take them through a world transformed by man's darkest dreams, to the very heart of what it means to be human. And beyond. Because something is coming. A tidal wave of darkness ready to engulf the world. And Amy is the only person who can stop it."

This cover is so creppy, I have to keep the book face down on my nightstand. Source HERE

Now, the book could technically be labeled a science fiction, but don't let that turn you off. No offense to science fictions, I only say that because personally, I don't get too excited by the sci-fi genre, and so maybe some of you don't either. The Passage is so much more than just a sci-fi. It is an exciting, apocalyptic, captivating mystery, full of heart, love, humour, horror, and strong characters who you will fall in love with, and be rooting for the whole way through.

So, if you have not already read this amazing story, and I have not managed to convince you to pick it up, here are a few choice words from the critics:

"If you only take one book away with you this summer, make it The Passage...Once you start reading it, you won't want it to end." The Times

"Enthralling...Read this book and the ordinary world disappears." Stephen King

"It more than lives up to the considerable hype...breathtaking plot...the conclusion will leave you gasping. A modern classic in the making." SFX

Oh, and as if that wasn't enough, Hollywood A List Director Ridley Scott, who has directed Alien, Thelma and Louise, Gladiator, Black Hawk Down, American Gangster, and Robin Hood, to name a few, purchased the rights to this novel for somewhere around $1.7 million, before the book was even finished. They have not started filming yet, and it is not certain if Scott himself will actually be the one to direct it, but the fact that he snatched it up like that speaks volumes. I would love to see this story come to life on the big screen, as long as Hollywood can do it justice, and it seems like the rights are in the right hands.

Have you read The Passage, and if so, what do you think? If you haven't read it, have I got you convinced?

Also, I am going book shopping as soon as I set foot on Canadian soil, do you guys have any must read recommendations for me?

PS: If you are more into 'chick lit' then you absolutely must read The Help, by Kathryn Stockett. There has been a lot of hype about this book, as you probably know, but if you are one of the few who hasn't heard of it, just trust the millions that have and go read it. Now! The big screen version, staring Emma Stone, Viola Davis, and Sissy Spacek, hits theaters August 10th.

Source HERE

For more of my book recommendations click HERE.

Home Sweet Home

2011-07-21T11:34:00.000+02:00

In just four short days I am returning to my homeland for an extended visit of 6-8 weeks. While I am going to miss Henry a little, okay...A LOT, there are loads of things I am excited about returning home for, but I will get to all that in a minute.

Since I come from a rather unique place that is not even on most Canadian maps, and since I have gained way more blog readers than I ever would have imagined who are not actually related to me (and therefore are not required through family ties to read my blog), I thought it would be fun to do a post on my hometown. Kind of like I am taking you all on a hometown date à la The Bachelor/Bachelorette. Sorry about the cheesy reality TV reference, but I am really into the latest season of the Bachelorette and they just went on hometown dates. Go Ben or Constantine! I can't decide.

So anyway, I come from a teeny, tiny, minuscule island located in the Bay of Fundy, in the province of New Brunswick, on the east coast of Canada. As I mentioned, it often can not be found on a map of Canada, so I took the liberty of adding it in myself.

Thank you Picnik!

As you may have gathered, the Island is not that big. In fact, it is only 34 km (16 miles) long and 18 km (11 miles) wide, with a population of around 2,400.

A map of the actual Island.

As you can see on the map, there is only one main road, with a couple of side roads. There are no stop lights here, making traffic a non issue. There are no fast food joints, no shopping malls, no movie theaters, no book stores and no bowling alleys. Instead, there are delicious local restaurants, cute craft/souvenir shops and a Dollar Store, gorgeous beaches, ocean views pretty much everywhere, and plenty of super friendly locals.

Here are some of my favorite shots of the Island:

Pettes Cove and Swallowtail light.

This is my grandfather's dog, Minnie. There is nothing I love more than taking her to this spectacular beach for some swimming and of course, to play fetch.

Salmon cages at dusk in Dark Harbour. Picture by jonesanf.

That's Henry, standing on top of the Hole-In-The-Wall.

A sunset view from the Whistle Road. My favorite spot to watch. Picture source HERE.


Listening to the waves crash against the Southern Head cliffs is incredible.

While the beauty of the Island can keep you occupied for quite some time, you are eventually going to want/need to get to the 'mainland,' as we call it. This requires a ferry ride with a crossing time of approximately one and a half hours (for those of you who are from Grand Manan, I meant for that sentence to sound like the recording that actually plays on the boat). Once you get to 'the other side' you have to drive about 45 minutes to the nearest city.

Our current ferry, the Grand Manan V.

This ferry holds about 64 cars. At peak times and during the summer season, the ferry can be extremely busy. If you don't show up to the terminal in plenty of time, you risk a good chance of being left behind. You can catch a ride every 3 hours in the low season, and every 1.5 hours in the high season. The ferry runs every day, except Christmas and New Years Day, and of course, when the weather is too unfit to sail. Most days the ride is tolerable, but occasionally a serious case of seasickness is inevitable. A bigger, better, brand spanking new ferry is on its way to the island as we speak. I am very much looking forward to testing out the waters on the new boat.

On Grand Manan, the livelihood of most families comes from the lobster fishing industry. Mine included. This means that I get to have fresh and free lobster pretty much anytime I want while I am home. Strangely enough, and don't be mad when I tell you this, I despise lobster. The only thing I enjoy eating that comes from the sea is dulse, a type of seaweed that you pick off of rocks in the ocean, lay out in the sun to dry, and then eat. Some might say it is an acquired taste, but I LOVE it!

This is dulse, drying out in the sun. I stole this picture from my uncle. Thanks Uncle Bud!

My Dad and I shelling some lobsters.

So what else am I looking forward to in the 6-8 weeks I will be spending at home, besides riding the new ferry, breathing in the salty ocean air, soaking up the sun on the beaches and eating lots of dulse?

Playing lots of BINGO with this guy...

My wonderful grampy, a BINGO master.

Getting lots of snuggles from this sweet girl...

My adorable niece, Kalli.

Attending the wedding of some of my favorite and oldest friends...

Reuniting with my very best friends in the world, who grew up with me on the Island...

My two oldest and dearest friends and I taking on Seattle.

Taking my old roomate, and yet another best friend, on a maritime tour of Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, and of course, Grand Manan...

Andrea & I at a nightclub in Cancun.

Helping move my baby sister away to University. Wow, that makes me feel super old!

My little sister and I at a Lady Gaga concert in Vancouver.

And spending lots of time with my other awesome, fun, and sometimes crazy sister Laiken...

Aside from all of the fun stuff and family/friend time, I will be also working at the local nursing home so I can earn enough money to return to Denmark in September. Needless to say, I am going to have a lot less time on my hands while at home than I have had being unemployed and friendless here in Denmark, which means there won't be as much time for blogging.

So, if it seems like I have forgotten about you and your blogs, don't worry, I am just busy being busy, and will get to them as often as I can. As far as my own blog goes, I plan to do a few blast from the past posts about trips I took prior to becoming a blogger, in addition to posting about my adventures around Atlantic Canada, and how my life on a small, remote Island is going. I hope that kind of stuff will keep you all entertained while I am taking a short break from being a foreigner.

PS: Thanks so much for all of your votes! I am leading the pack for the Best In Travel blog over at For The Love of Blogs. You guys are the best blog readers a girl could ever ask for! If you haven't voted yet, and think I am worthy, head over HERE, and click the like button beside my blog, number 27. Don't forget to let me know if you voted. As soon as the winners are listed (and whether I win or not) I will dedicate an entire post to mentioning all of you and your lovely blogs. Thanks again!

Switzerland: Some Parting Shots

2011-07-20T17:18:00.000+02:00

Well everyone, here is the final blog post related to my most recent Euro road trip vacation. It feels like the vacation was ages ago, and it feels like it has taken me even longer to finish up my trip related posts. I hope I haven`t bored you all to death by going on and on about this trip, but I promise there is some new, fun stuff coming your way very soon.

So without further adieu, here is the last post of random photos around Switzerland. Enjoy!

Lucerne, Switzerland: The Dying Lion

I fell in love with this monument. Sculpted to honor the Swiss guards who were massacred during the French Revolution.

Mark Twain called this "the most mournful and moving piece of stone in the world." I think he might be right.

Chapel Bridge. The interior of this bridge is covered with paintings.

The color of the lakes here was amazing!

This photo was taken by a random stranger. He had the camera upside down at first, so I was worried about the turn out, but it ended up pretty good!

Crazy High Mountains, somewhere in Switzerland

We spent a cloudy morning driving up these insane mountain roads. The old van could hardly handle it, but the views were so worth it!

We drove right into the clouds.

A creek in the mountains. The air around these creeks is the freshest possible air you can breathe in.

Of course there were even cows this high up.

PS: I am nominated over at the wonderful For The Love of Blogs for the Best in Travel Blogs category. If you love me and my blog, you can do me a huge favor and click on the link HERE to vote for my blog. All you have to do when you get there is click the like button for my blog. I am number 27.

Thanks in advance for voting, I know my lovely, amazing, beautiful blog readers (ok...maybe that was too much butt kissing) can help me bring this win home! Please let me know if you voted, so I can give your blog a shout out in a future post, and also stop by your blog if I am not a regular reader already.