Doing it wrong

It's me again and I'm getting really tired of making these entries. To me, writing about myself and the events in my life (or anything else for that matter) is the equivalent of chewing on dried grass on a hot summer's day while lying under a constipated cow. The grass is utterly tasteless and there's always the constant looming threat of the cow releasing its warm, tasty chocolate cake upon me if I say too much or not enough. Besides, I can never write in a completely neutral manner, I always have to push in my stupid opinions and jokes on everything and there's invariably somebody out there who doesn't like them. I'm an extremely paranoid person too and I don't like people having opinions about me because I tend to assume the absolute worst - and I'm usually right, too. But duty calls and I have to write at least one blogpost a week because if I don't, somebody might get a heart-attack or something. And write a blogpost I will - even if I happen to fall on my face while crossing a highway and get run over twice by a truck filled with obese Americans and lose both of my arms and the top part of my head (which some people might consider an improvement, as far as looks go).

While emptying my messenger bag from from stale-smelling cookie crumbs and centuries old chewing gum, I noticed a gigantic spider lying dead on the floor. I had no idea how it got there but I knew that it had probably laid some eggs into my stomach (therefore the only logical thing for me to do is to remove my stomach with my bare hands, but I'll do that later). I also realized that I better clean my room before my dirty laundry finds a job and decides to kick me out of the house for good.
Unfortunately that wasn't the only unsettling discovery I made in my room after spending nearly a month here. Apparently I have been sleeping in the same room with a Twilight novel. No wonder I had so many nightmares about rainbows and little girls dancing with girly man-pixies. I took the novel and hid it under the cupboard so that it can no longer molest me while I'm in the room.

As far as money goes, I now officially have only 31 Danish crowns left, which is rougly the equivalent of 62 Estonian crowns, which is roughly the equivalent of some Euros (hey, I said roughly). I don't know what I'm going to spend it on, but since it isn't exactly a mind-blowing amount of money, I'll probably invest it in some candy - some expensive Marabou Daim chocolate, that is. And you'll never get any... never...

I think it's about time to get serious about things. I've been here for a month and I've already come to some conclusions. For one thing, I've realized how much I do not want to stay and rot in Estonia for the rest of my miserably insignificant life.
I've become so imbued with western culture that I feel as if I don't fit in my native culture anymore. I feel alienated, estranged and misunderstood all the time when I'm in Estonia. Of course I understand that Denmark isn't exactly western, but being here, far from home, and seeing how things work has made me realize how much of a stranger I really am in my own home country.
For one thing, the people here are nicer in every way compared to the stereotypical Estonian. They're not as numb and apathetic towards each other as is common in Tallinn - the capital of cold, uncaring people (obviously a hyperbole). Yes, I realize I'm exaggerating a bit, but this is just my opinion.

For example, I was sitting alone in class the other day - away from the other students because I came to the classroom too early and was too lazy to lift my ass and change seats. Now, in Estonia, nobody would care whether I was lonely or not - they'd just assume I'm some kind of anti-social nerd and ignore me completely. But here some students approached me and showed real concern as to why I was sitting away from the others.
In my home country everybody's so absorbed with their own little lives that they don't have the time or don't feel the need to give somebody a helping hand. "Got a problem? Fix it yourself and don't bother me, you loser," would be the mindset of a very stereotypical (again, I stress that this is just a moment's opinion and is subject to change) Estonian. And this makes me sad. There's no caring in our society, just cold, harsh criticism and bloody annoying sarcasm. And here people help each other. It's the Danish way of life, or so it seems.

Moreover, the gymnasiums here work better. From what I've seen, my new class has hardly any segregation between students or "clicks", as they say (though having some is unavoidable). Everybody knows everybody and you can't just be the "always-in-class-but-I-can't-remember-his-name-because-he-never-talks"-guy here. In the first year of high-school, half a year is spent by students getting to know each other. They have interesting outings and parties together for the sole purpose of finding one's own place in the class and it's all arranged by the students themselves. They don't go to stupid, god-awful museums all the time either. Bowling, pool hall, heck anything is better than visiting boring, (pardon my French) f*cking museums dedicated to old farms or cow poo with their class, which Estonian teachers seem to think is the absolute pinnacle of fun. Get real, people!
Learn something from this, Kuristiku! It is important to form friendships in high-school and some people need help with that. Studying is not the only great goal of the student. We're not little mechanical constructs that you have to stuff some facts into and shove out of the door with a kick to the bum and your useless stamp of approval: finished our school, your kids should too.

And this brings me to another thing. You, Teacher, can smile at me all you want and give me little compliments because I get good grades, but you can't well make me happy with that useless grin on your face. You don't know me and you don't know how I learn. Everybody is different, everybody learns differently, everybody has their breaking-point. Take this into account when you prepare for your next lesson. Don't just yell at your students and stare them with cold, soul-less eyes (my classmates will know who I'm implying with that). Get to know them, they're your co-workers, not some science project you can toss into the garbage bin whenever you feel it's not working properly.

I guess I've rambled on long enough and you're all probably bored or passed out and drooling on your keyboard by this point (just like a typical Friday for you, eh?). Of course not all of what I wrote was based on Denmark. It's not some sort of utopia here you know. Every pretty horse has a smelly bumhole and so does Denmark. But enough being serious. I hate being serious in what I write because I always get carried away. And if you think you can make some witty counter-arguments and topple whatever my views may be, then feel free to post them as comments so as I could completely ignore them and add you to my "Must throw things at"-list.

I suppose you're wondering how it's going for me here. Well, this whole trip is starting to feel like a Cinderella type of thing, except that Cinderella wasn't a manly, hairy gentleman who likes to ride motorcycles extremely fast while on fire (like me). I just hope that when I get back I will have changed in some ways. Maybe I could become less of a shy guy and more of the type of person who can steal your wallet while you're admiring his god-like good looks.

I don't really know what I'm supposed to do at home in regards to homework. I'm far behind in Math and just about any other subject we have, and catching up is starting to feel like a hopeless undertaking when I take into account that all I have to go on is the near-infinite wisdom of Google™ (also known as Jesus® in some cultures). I've been doing some of my Danish homework and almost all of my English homework, but all I do in Maths and Physics is write down things from the internet into my notebooks. And that's only when I'm not being lazy or sleeping.

I'm done. Nothing else to write. If you managed read this massive turd of a blog entry, I commend you. Congratulations! Shoot out the confetti! Bring in the cake, the naked women and the potater salad! You've just wasted a massive amount of time sitting and looking at lots of letters put into pretty rows by me! (SPOILER: It was all part of my plan.)




PS. You know, I really am the only one who reads these posts. If you think you're actually you and want to write a comment about it, then don't, because you are most definetly me. And maybe you should uncross your legs and/or take your left/right hand off your face because that pot-roast in your oven just exploded. And your basement is on fire. And your wallpaper is wet.















And your dog is having an affair.














With your cat.