right now

Right now my website is down again unfortunately. Im not sure what to do about it but with any luck by the time i finish this post it’ll be running.
I’ve spent most of my day so far cooking breakfast and washing our clothes. We took a quick ride to walmart to get some medicine as Jack and i are already sick after being home for 5 days. Can you believe it? I caught something from work because someone doesn’t know how to keep their coughs to themselves — the first week back at work drug out like a son of a bitch, and i’m already dreading Monday. The week was tough. It almost made it feel like my time in Denmark never happened. But as my mum says .. it did happen. And i’m thankful for it.

Sometimes going home is bittersweet. It turns me through loops and confuses me; the whole ordeal of leaving and saying goodbye to my loved ones takes a good 10 years off me every time, and by that logic i should be dead last week. Now that my parents have a homestead there, it was different. It was like “living” in Denmark rather than just having a holiday, and i preferred it that way.  If i were a money deep author i’d live half/half in Denmark & Texas, but alas i’m not. I’m incredibly close to finishing my novel, and i mean very close. I write mostly at work and obviously i’m consistently interrupted so i lose concentration. When i get home in the evenings i’m so mentally exhausted that if i had to bare my soul on the page i’d simply slip away and give in. Theres only so much i can take at once. As you well know, i’m not built for captivity. In an office i’m a wasted resource and i often find myself misplaced, but one must pay for the privilege of living well; and i will never look down my nose at that. Actors and authors must pay their way with jobs no one wants — and as i happen to be both i’m twice as punished.

(insert rant here for good measure)
Unfortunately, much to my great regret, i had to cancel my class that was going to start on the 27th of January. I did everything within my power to make it work and jumped through every hoop thrown at me by the university. I got stressed out with the people i had to deal with as very little information was available and for the longest time they didn’t even know how to sign me up for said class. I was told to contact a hundred different people, each other passing me off to someone else who had no idea how to wash themselves let alone how to help me utilise my benefits.  I asked what was required of me through admissions in October — and they were still making up new rules as of this week. I was so tired of running around for them and knowing they still would fuck something else up, that i simply cashed it in. I went to get shots just to be able to be a student (I work at the university so this really made NO sense), i put in all my paperwork and everything. Then this week i received a bill for the first month of the class for $1000. And i about lost my fucking rag. Literally.
“Hell fucking no.”
And i contacted anyone i could about it. “Oh those are hidden fees for the class. You have to pay iff your class is more than 6 credit hours.”
The class i chose was merely 4. Almost the entire experience was retarded. I kept on with it because i desperately wanted to give myself the class as a gift, but at that the cost of the stress and whatever else? Fuck that shit. Not to mention the class is supposed to be free for employees. Needless to say — universities still aren’t for me. Jesus christ. Blasphemy and what not.
I hate that it seems like i complain a lot lately but i don’t see the point in painting life to be some flower with full petals, when it simply isn’t. Going to university was NEVER the right decision for me; i would feel very very trapped. I only took this class because it would be 5 months of my life and it was in a subject i felt passionately about and always wanted to try, but for some reason this university doesn’t function very well — i hate to say it but truly.
So i went ahead and tried to cancel my class, only to find out a new hold had been put on my account so i couldn’t access it. Apparently i hadn’t had my Immunisations yet. But i had them sorted out in November and i provided proof of my other ones from England & Denmark… i went into the student health office specifically (they originally messed up my payment and charged me $85 instead $5 dollars which i eventually got back) and they had zero record of me having ever been there. I mean.. At this point you couldn’t make this shit up. Not to mention i had this issue once already, which led me to go and get the shots done in the first place and they took the hold off in December.

But fear not — its not all gone to shit. Yet. I immediately signed up for the Farrier School that same day. I’m just waiting to hear back from them whether or not i get in; fingers crossed. I believe it will take a few weeks to hear back. That is the one thing i truly care about and is very important to me; if it goes well and i like it well enough, i plan to attend a full 8 week class in Texas when i save up the money. Though if i don’t get in — so be it. Then i suppose its not meant to be and i’ll stick to the acting, writing and whatever the hell else it is i do.
Today i started working out again and i feel so much better afterwards, that and writing is the best and most effective therapy to date.
My spirit is not broken and all is not lost. The future comes whether we ask her to or not. Thank goodness for that.
I hope you have a happy weekend.

Country house
The house in Denmark
People by a lake
My mum showing us around the grounds, and thats there is the dude sitting his coffee by the lake and abiding.
Wilting flowers
Danish mornings are the most promising
Prettiest Kitty
My cat Daisy contemplating whether to talk to me or not since i’ve been gone so long. My parents called her Izabella in the beginning because she wouldn’t share food and acted like a feline version of me. This never changed. While i was there it was constantly “Bel — nej Daisy!” “Daisy?” “øh, jeg hedder altså Izabella men ok.”
handsome cat
My sweet Charlie. I truly love my cats and though they live happily with my parents, a day doesn’t go by where i don’t miss them terribly. They are the most wonderful creatures. If i could have them and Basil with me for the rest of my life; why i’d be so lucky.

20 hours & the daily grind

I’m back on the daily grind, running on very little sleep and Danish withdrawal symptoms. I’ve been listening to a fun Danish podcast all morning which helps fool my brain into thinking home isn’t all that far away. But its 2 days away and shit tonne of miles. This was the longest trip of my damn life but in the best kept company.


20 hrs
The start of 20 hours in an airport.. when you’re already exhausted

We were stuck in Heathrow for 20 hours, and it was horrible. We spent our time watching Father Ted, i played on the baby grand in Terminal 3 till the early hours of the morning, and we watched the night mice scrounging for old food under the seats. A lady told me  we weren’t allowed to take pictures. We promptly cussed her out under bated breath. After i finished taking my pictures of course. Unfortunately due to her interuption i missed my mouse picture, however, out of pure stubborness i just took pictures of chairs to piss her off.

Suitcases
Lunch at Heathrow

I haven’t been to Heathrow since i was little, but by christ its an awful airport now. Cramped, dirty and seriously over priced. If i wanted walk behind people who aimlessly stand around in awe of the fucking ceiling… holy shit. The good thing about being there so long was the easy access to all the hot and spicy monster munch i wanted, and pink lemonade lucozade too. Love that shit. I found that a lot of the food i thought i missed wasn’t as great as i remembered, but i expect i’ll miss it something fierce just the same. We also had a lovely evening dinner at a fancy place which i forget the name of. I got a pizza and Jack had fish amd chips. Not too shabby.

Boots on suitcase
People watching while Jack sleeps

I got next to no sleep. I cannot for the life of me sleep sitting up or with strangers around. Im always on high alert in an airport. We’d found a quiet terminal to sit in when the airport closed, but were shooed out like vermin around 1.30am by some rude little asshole with teeth spuing from the roof of his mouth. He said we could leave the airport, which wouldve caused a shit tonne of trouble as Jack didnt have a visa .. but he insisted that didnt matter just to get us to leave. We refused and were rushed to terminal 5 where all the other people on long stints were kept like gerbils in a sardine case. He actually shouted at us when he had to repeat himself because he had an accent and too much saliva in his mouth. Talk fucking clearly and maybe not at 9283mph. Damn. As you can see im still pretty aggravated about it, but you dont talk to people like that just because your dumb ass wants to get home to an empty flat with rot of the walls, so you can masturbate over women you cant afford. I didnt tell him that, because i have a habit og making people cry so i said my please and thank yous and rolled out all the polites. Idiot.

Suitcases
Almost 34 hours later and we’ve finally landed in America

The flight was comfortable, we sat in two relatively private seats at the very back of the plane. We had plenty of room and we were about as comfortable as we could be in economy. No screaming babies neither. Thank fuck for that.

Pastel sunset
Back to the daily grind

After the two bus rides and a car ride we finally arrived home. Worse for wear and tired as all hell, slightly agrieved by idiots in airports. I actually had trouble leaving Billund because of my name, but the girl was clearly lacking education and common sense, thinking she could take on my mother. Not to mention Jack who, just by insisting helped talk them i to accepting my LEGAL greencard. Anyway we showered the world away and had walmart pizza. I dont remember much else.

Sun up
Hello Wyo!

And then it was straight up the next morning to go to work. 36hours or so of travelling and little sleep as well as lack of patience. And back on the daily grind for us. What champs we are, but would you look at the sun up we were greeted with this morning? Like a kiss in a candy shop.

old bow leg

Well, as you can see I found a home in Wyoming. A place that is enough to possibly persuade me to stop running one day. If Wyoming were an ocean I would spend my life trying to drink it, whether the salt would burn and poison me would be trivial. Though even New England where the sea was close — I found myself missing the sea because it was so cramp and full of tourists. It was never like those cold nights alone on Sand Bay beach. Thousands of miles from me now and years of memories past.
Here there is no ocean or tall ships, there is only waves and waves of empty prairie. And for now I shall have to get my oceanic fix when I fly home to Denmark or you know.. if I ever get lucky enough to take a holiday to Saint Vincent where the sea is blue and the sand is whiter than I am.

I could never choose what I loved most or what I wanted to do. And so I told the world to go fuck itself.
I’ll do it all.
And I have.

I’ve sailed with pirates and commodores. Ive ridden horses on the Texas front and I’ve been the clown I was born to be. These days I find myself in a strange state of mind. A happiness wrapped in dark melancholy that is oddly comforting.
I have a job that pays me and will fund every dream from now. I have the west and I find my dreams coming true even weekly. But when you are a part of so many things that make your heart pump a million, there is always something missing.
Today is not a day that I will sail. Nor is tomorrow. But there will be a day when I see the sea and we’ll kiss like we always do.

I don’t know what kind of believer I am, but I know things do happen. And one thing that happened most recently, something that shook me to my core, was that I met a horse.. a horse that captured me like a sail from a mast holding the wind. An old man whom I call Old Bowleg. Im sure local photographers have an actual name for him, but I gave him this one.
A majestic horse that has seen war with half his ear chewed from its cartilage and a leg bent all out of shape. Yet still he stands as tall as the trees at the bottom of a valley. Still he knows the favorable wind and it flows through his mane. If there was a god — he walks this earth with a bowleg. Now that is something I can believe in.
He was a painting. He was an old chieftain without his tribe. I believe that he had been run off from his mares by a younger suitor. So out there on top of the mountain I found him. Between the reeds and the straw. This beautiful animal, stronger than any man I’ve ever seen, and his faith never wavered in all his years regardless of the fact that his leg struggled beneath him. It didn’t matter because he could fly.


If I had had the time to sit and talk with him a while I would have, but alas it was not be this time. If he Is still alive when the summer comes I shall look for him and maybe I am destined to look for him for an eternity. If that is the way, so be it. But how grateful I am to have seen him even for a moment, it seemed but a second. He was what I always dreamed a true American mustang must be. What America was and can be again. Thats unfair. America is a wonderful place, but the politics — the never fucking ending political bullshit is nonsense. And so I don’t think about it. I think about what I see and what I feel.

And that horse, that day — he took something from me and since I saw him I haven’t been able to stop feeling like I wanted to run back. I don’t relate to people. Thats not my business. Animals, its always the animals. They have me in a vice. Bowleg gave me something… a vision. I will remember him as my spirit horse — the one who taught me that though I have been pained and wounded it doesn’t have to stop me. It doesn’t have to define me. As long as I remember.
Remember. Remember. Remember.
To as true to you as you can be.
It doesn’t matter what Agatha did or what Johnson said. Riley can go fuck himself. What matters today and tomorrow is what you are.

No one can take that from me. And no one can take it from you.
Wopila!

klokken lort om natten



Klokken er lidt over lort om natten i USA og  som sædvanligt kan jeg ikke sove. Jeg fik pludseligt lyst til at skrive et dansk indlæg på bloggen — det er sku sjældent. Nu når Jack øver sig i at lære dansk bliver jeg mere og mere inspireret i at forbedre mit eget sprog. Han har simpelthen sat det op sådan at vi kan se dansk tv og radio programmer herovre circa 6500km væk — et jule mirakel if ever there was one. Det er så dejligt at kunne følge med i en julekalender imens man tæller op til jul, noget så simpelt varmer hjertet. Så kan jeg lade som om Danmark er lige ude for vinduet og mormor bor lige om hjørnet.

Når jeg læser det jeg skriver på dansk kan jeg godt mærke at jeg bliver enormt irriteret. På engelsk er jeg forfatter men på dansk kan jeg ikke huske de ord der ligger så tydeligt for mig på engelsk. Det er simpelthen så træls at indrømme at på dansk er min intelligens nok ikke ældre end 5 år gammel. Men pyt med det. Fordi det er jul og idag skal vi spise and og risalamande. Så så galt er det sku heller ikke.

I ønskes en rigtig glædelig jul og godt nyår herfra.

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