Frayed laces and Foreign Places!

So I recently noticed that I have a huge temptation to start all my blog posts with the word 'so'. Yep. All of them. All NINE of them *smugface

All right, you can stop rolling your eyes. I'm still pretty darn proud of myself. Which brings me to the word 'darn'. Isn't it ridiculous how we have these substitute curse words so we appear more polite, when everyone knows what we're really speaking of? Pointless censorship. It beats me why swearing even has such a negative connotation. I feel it's a very effective way of letting out emotion, as the evergreen Hank of Vlogbrothers(pun absolutely intended) elaborates in this video. (It opens in a new window so you don't have to right click and all that jazz. Aren't I thoughtful?)... My train of though derailed-sorry about that.

Now, the entire soul, crux, point and other tautologies of this article is a point I haven't even touched on yet. It's my recent trip to Denmark. Yes, I've returned. Yes, I' have deep-seeded holiday blues. The reason I'm writing this so late is because every time I return from a vacation, I spend weeks mulling over every single thing I did. So I thought I'd share some of that with you guys!

This exchange program has been a journey (an ongoing one, actually, since the Danes will be coming over in March), and one I've completely enjoyed so far. An experience like no other. Now, I've visited a fair share of countries. I've begged and pleaded my parents to explore forbidden lands seeking adventure (aka eating KFC in a hotel room, crying as I watch bad reality television). I've visited about twelve countries, I'd say, but I've only truly experienced one. Only one have I locked in a special cubicle in my heart. Only one has blown my mind so thoroughly that sweet memories of it are revisited every morning I wake up. If any of you dunderheads (or Ron Weasley) reading this haven't yet understood which one.....it's Denmark.
Funnily enough, it's not the sights we saw, the food we ate or the natural beauty we experienced that made it different. It was...the feel. The spirit. The depth. The aura about it. We didn't listen to a radio guide who told us the exact year something was built. We didn't call ourselves food connoisseurs and then only eat McDonalds when in the country. We didn't spend five minutes on the top floor of a really tall building, clicking photos of a city that looks like every other city from the top floor of a really tall building.
No. We stood still. We watched. We marveled. We stayed at a Danish family's house. We ate their food. We greeted them in the morning. The fact that the domestic atmosphere here and there are so different, yet the same....
The way they addressed each other. The way they joked around. The way they just...family-ed. Exactly like our own families. Exactly like every other family in the world. But in a different setting. In a first world country, instead of a third. With cows mooing and horses neighing and the wind hooting instead of cars...horning and beggars crying. We never think of people so foreign and so different to be as much of a real entity as we are. And that in itself is ridiculous.
Anyway, ten days in a foreign land definitely leaves you wanting more. But so does fifteen years in your home country. I only wish to interact with other foreigners as well. Oh boy, a place where I can freely talk with other people of different nationalities, where we can share ideas and thoughts and feelings about common things that matter to us, creating a diverse platform for enhanced communication and meeting awesome people! How awesome does that sound! Where can I have that, I wonder?

Wait a minute....