Send me an SMS, because I'm European now.

Have you ever fallen asleep on your boy/girl/tranny friend on the sofa, and realize, as they quietly extricate from your full-body hug to go and answer the door, that you've drooled all over their shirt in such a way that it cannot possibly go unnoticed?

Yeah, me neither.

Denmark is cold. There is "sunlight" (and I say "sunlight" as one can only assume it is light from the sun, although it is lifeless and gray) from 9am - 3pm. I have stolen all of Alan's socks and permanently planted myself in front of his wood-burning stove.

The Kid is having a fantastic time, and is even tolerating the same cartoons she watches at home being dubbed over in Danish. I have no idea how much she understands, but she was hopping around the other day, exclaiming "Ved du hvad?!" ("You know what?!").

She's never worn so many layers before. I'm never on time for anything here, because we have to have dry hair, tights, two pairs of pants, shirts, sweaters, hats, gloves.... back in Florida, we step out of the shower into shorts, a tee shirt, and a pair of flip flops, and we're on our way. Your hair dries on it's own in 10 minutes. Oh, Florida. The things I've taken for granted...

Everyone keeps remarking on how polite and well-behaved The Kid is. Which I can understand, especially in comparison to The Boyfriend's two girls. (Cough, cough, cough.) When they're good, they're very, very good. And when they're bad.... I pack up my shit and threaten to stay with Thomas indefinitely.

Which Thomas is super-excited about, I'm sure.

Have you ever been on an extended trip with your significant other, and had a daily battle occurring between your regularly scheduled menstrual cycle and a tiny birth control pill that was absolutely detrimental to your sex life?

SURE, I'D LOVE TO HAVE SEX! I JUST NEED TO CRY, EAT A KILO OF DARK CHOCOLATE, AND TAKE SOME MOTRIN! DON'T START WITHOUT ME!

Yeah, me neither.

We're going home on Monday. I just read that the temperature in Florida is going down to 39 degrees.



What.

The.

Fuck.

Well, at least I have warm clothes that aren't from the late 80's, that the rest of the Floridian population will be dragging out of their closets from a box marked "Winter Clothes", which is just the clothes they moved down to Florida with, twenty years ago.

Holy Hormona, I need to go find some prescription medication.