Back to Vesterbro

Future home street in Copenhagen

It's insane. We got an incredible flat from Vesterbro. It's everything you'd imagine a Copenhagen flat to be like. Light wooden floors, high white ceilings. So much light it almost hurts your eyes. A balcony and 55 square meters to live in.

I still haven't secured a job. I basically have nothing waiting for me, except for the 2 best Summer months in Copenhagen and the freedom to do whatever I want.

If only I could earn an extra 1000€ so I could head down to Southern France for August to do a bit of surfing and enjoying the sun. I almost feel ashamed that two months in the city I like so much, in an apartment that looks like it was ripped out of any arty folk's dreams, isn't enough and I want even more. Isn't that the curse of wanting it all?

But hell, it's insane.

I'm listening to that Feet in the Water-song on repeat, because I need someone to slap me and tell me it's all better than I even realize yet.

Stressed out/looking for help

PS: Hey you Copenhagen people I see visiting this blog; help! I'm sure this is a long shot but I'm using everything I can, it's urgent!

I'm looking for an apartment from 1. June to 1. August. I have one in mind that I'm considering but it's 36m2 and we need it for two people so it could be quite a stretch. And it's ridiculously expensive as well, although it's in an area I like. I know money's only money but it still stings.

So, if you know anything, please let me know! We're mostly scanning Vesterbro, Norrebro and Osterbro and zones 1 and 2. Our upmost limit is around 8000 DKK/month but we're willing to go a bit higher depending on the apartment (the one we're considering is indeed higher). Boligportal seems to be out of bounds since the landlords don't seem to dig people who aren't locals. We're starting to be in a bit of trouble since we're supposed to be moving on the 1. June!

I would be eternally grateful if anyone could help at all, I'll take the ridiculously expensive and ridiculously small apartment soon and probably regret it afterwards, if this doesn't work.

Light-headed and aloof

A messy me in august 2011, longer hair, more flesh around the bones, someone I don't recognize that well

I usually hate self-portraits and I end up hating each and every one I've ever taken, except the ones where I don't look like myself. There's something so exceptionally vulnerable about the ones that do look like me. It makes me rather uncomfortable and they end up in the bin.

If everything works according to plan, I might be leaving Helsinki for a short while pretty soon. I finally did send that message where I said jag kommer and I don't regret it. Now if everything works out I'll be spending two or three days living with the boy who said that us living together would be an unbearable rollercoaster ride. Hopefully we'll see about that soon enough.

I don't have to go to work anymore tomorrow morning. I'll go for a run and eat my usual breakfast and lunch combined: a bowl of all-bran and a glass of OJ and then run some errands. And avoid collateral damage, which approached me today in the form of 1 missed call and 1 text message. 

I'm making myself used to a simple version of freedom, I guess.

"Dynamic employee for the Summer" "Freelancer" "Hej! I am a 20-year-old girl from Helsinki" and other things from my sent e-mails folder

London ages ago

Everything's going fast, fast, fast but so painfully slow - job applications, job rejections, rental applications, unanswered e-mails, the last day of day job tomorrow, new job applications flying around, cold cover letters, freelance work, temporary work, a month, a month and a half, obscure time patterns.

Copenhagen is constantly interrupting my thoughts. I have weird dreams at night and keep seeing catalogue models who look like someone who I wish I won't run into in Osterbro.

I want to send a message to Copenhagen that I'm coming soon; sing it like that swedish Veronica, jag kommer and such but my voice wasn't meant to be recorded and I don't know if I want anyone to wait for me or not.

I keep having second thoughts about everything; about quitting my job and about having these napoleon complex-like wishes, but then again, it's so useless to worry about how life goes. If you do good, it will come back to you. I'm beginning to sound like a self-help book - alarming.

And whenever I've been feeling let down and apathetic lately, I've resorted to this song. I wish some of its quiet power and beauty and rawness will transfer through my headphones.

That's alright, that's okay, I'm alive

You know when there's that certain kind of wind or that certain kind of sky that makes you remember things? Tonight it was the deep blue sky and the traffic lights that made me think of Copenhagen and airports and wide streets and things to come.

I received my first subscription issue of the International Herald Tribune and some books for LSE and Houghton Street. It's almost spot-on six months until my home city is London. I feel like smiling like an idiot. Nothing dramatically positive has happened, it all just somehow feels right. Everything's going to be alright.

For a few hours everything has been in its right place. Time has been frozen for a while, right now I refuse to worry about London or fret about the job situation in Copenhagen.

I'm going to see Helsinki-Vantaa again sooner than I thought. I'm leaving early Sunday morning to make a flash visit to London, see where I'll be spending the next three years, try to fall in love with the place, try to see myself on a morning run in Hyde Park or staggering home tipsy with someone wonderful. I feel like it's going to go well.

Tomorrow things might be different but right now I feel sweet and strong and capable and lovely. I have achieved something already. And it feels overwhelming. Now it's time to take it further.

I started to write a real paper diary again, because it finally feels like this life is something worth writing about.

Vi skulle nog ha hamnat här ändå

Top to bottom: the sea and Louisiana, Micke and Toby and me and Roosa's place on Ingerslevsgade, Louisiana and tiny Roosa, new shoes from naked, drinks bartended by me in Vesterbro, making a white russian with Carl, Kastellet

I'd love to write it all down but det er ikke let. What I can say is that I haven't felt this free and beautiful and charming and loveable in a long time. When you feel free the words don't come easy. Genuine happiness isn't supposed to be written down.

French kissing in Copenhagen turned into hanging out at the bar after hours and talking about music in the only bar that was open in Nørrebro. Talking about music in Nørrebro quickly became drinking white wine on Nørrebrogade. The moment I wished the minutes would slow down was the moment I knew I had momentarily fallen in love with it all.

Vesterbro, Nørrebro, Christianshavn, Kastellet, Nordhavn.

The wind of change blew hard but soft in København.

Copenhagen, wine, sun

Vesterbro is beautiful when the sun shines in the morning.

Ingerslevsgade treats us right even when the living room is cold at night. Michael whose name we first didn't know how to pronounce right makes tea every night and plays the Shins on vinyl. He laughs at our jokes and whistles around the apartment. The floorboards creak and tonight we discovered his DJ'ing equipment and made loops of panflute music.

I speak with more volume in Copenhagen and I feel stronger and more free. When the wind blows it blows hard through the city. When the sun shines the light takes up all the space. The city seems alive and its people are beautiful, it's contagious.

Yesterday night we were part of a cosy quartet, sitting in a small bar that played my favourite 80's one hit wonders, drinking beer and wine and ordering more and more of everything. Dice games were a big hit, until I lost three times in a row and had to pay everyone a round. The barman laughed at my story, better luck next time, but I still had to pay the Copenhagen price.

The night showed that French kissing in Copenhagen is some serious competition to French kissing in Paris and when I finished my tenth cigarette and spoke bad English and French together, I felt genuinely happy. The fourth glass of wine was the one-too-many one but in the morning I felt at ease. The arms wrapped safely around me kept the hangover away for a while.

Tomorrow we'll do something new again and try to blend into the beautiful people of this beautiful city.

Being here feels right.