But I talked to a VERY nice caseworker who made all kinds of notes for my file and then I got an email follow up from her because she'd checked my file and saw that my visa was expired and wanted to know if I'd gotten the paperwork back and that if I was thinking that I might not get it in time, I should get a special notation in my passport. I have since responded and said, well, I did renew my visa, but it hasn't come through yet - how do I get this stamp just in case I don't get my visa in time? I'm thinking that she might be a helpful caseworker! Praise god and pass the ketchup! Her English was phenomenal and she read my file! She READ my FILE! And then contacted me to make sure I hadn't gone and forgotten something HUGE!
I'm very excited.
Meanwhile, I may have just gotten my international drivers license. Well, I missed the FedEx guy, but he'll be back tomorrow and I've posted the note saying he can just leave it in the mailbox if I'm not home. Or peeing. But I didn't add that to the note. He might wig out and not let me have my proof of my mad driving skills. It will of course be in my maiden name because the department of motor vehicles will not change my name unless I walk into the office with a marriage certificate and/or a new social security card. I haven't gotten the new SSC or been anywhere NEAR a department of motor vehicles so instead I'm going to photocopy the document I got from the Danish Ministry of People Who Change Their Names, who brilliantly provided me with a document in English saying, "yes, you short sighted bureaucrat, she did bloody change her name now let her go about her life with some form of dignity." Because I'm running around with half of my official documents with one name and half with the other.
It's like having a secret identity. Or schizophrenia.
And I spend a lot of time explaining myselves to people. Yes: Myselves. Don't argue with me, I may be a dangerous schizophrenic, you never know.
Despite all the madness, I've had a good couple of days. I mean, I've had a cold, but I managed to work around it.
I worked a volunteer bar shift at a club/party Friday night, resulting in good times and a sexy voice (hoarse, very hoarse). You'd think it'd be dreadful to have to interact with drunk Danes, but really, it was pretty good. Think of it as another phase of projekt dejlig: interacting with Danes on their own turf, i.e. any place of inebriation. I managed fairly well in Danish and when it no longer worked and I apologized, in English, for not understanding or being unable to remember the number 80, most gasped and said "Oh my god, I didn't know you didn't speak Danish! I'm so sorry!" and then proceeded to repeat their request in English with good humor. It also helps that pick-up lines for foreign women by Danish men are very simple: "Where are you from?... WOW! What brought you here?" And are easily, gently, shot down by responding, "America... I married a Dane" and flashing the ring. I got my hand kissed several times. Even the guys who were trying to get me to discount their drinks finally gave in before my dazzling charming non-danish self.
Then today I worked out my little Danish problem, photocopied oodles of things that I needed for my research (although I just got an email saying now I have a print ready up at the library and I'm thinking: why didn't this happen EARLIER today?), returned books and, this was BEFORE NOON mind you, made my way towards the bus stop - this afternoon I went out of Århus to meet up with another blogger and her deliciously madcap children for some coffee and fresh air.
We both got a lot of it (FRESH AIR you Weirdos!), so if the blogosphere suddenly falls silent, it's because we both caught pneumonia and died.
(BTW: I've been drinking these vitamin C dissolvable tablets in water and they are AWESOME! You can't OD on vitamin C, right? 'Cause they're really tasty. I may have a slight addiction. Can you even be addicted to Vit C dissolvable tablets? God I hope not. Right, so I may die either from too much fresh air or possibly a slight over indulgence in vitamin C. You may take up to a year to morn my passing. Wear purple and sing dirges while you sweep. Yes, I meant to say sweep. 'Can't very well sing dirges while you sleep, now can you? And if you sing and weep at the same time, it'll sound all hiccupy and awful. I'm tone-deaf, but not deaf-deaf.)