Dear Jennica,

Foraging for food in the forest is one of my favourite pastimes. which i somehow manage to do only a couple times a year!

Lets take a tour of my foraging this time.

First, i caught 5 minutes of a danish TV show called Frilandshaven (lets translate that as The Rustic Garden) whose topic of the week was their 'Middle-ages Garden.' I didnt catch the names of any of the plants, but they made porridge and syrup from authentic, common, ancient Danish plants the vikings used in cooking.

Intrigued by the idea of free vegetables in my own backyard I went on a hunt and found some in my in-laws immediate vicinity! They have a huge, lush and green backyard. First i found Ground Elder:


Which is commonly used as ground cover in north american landscaping(which is why it may look familiar!) but is native here.

I found recipes online for Ground Elder quiche, omelettes, and pancake syrup you name it! And it grows like crazy! Its a weed here, which is called an ukrudt (say: oo-CROOT) and my mother in law harangued me all afternoon about how you wouldnt catch her dead eating skvalderkål! But i persevered!

I dragged Hans to the woods, in search of this other mighty wild source of nutrients:
Stinging Nettle! My gloves proved to be
a little thin and i got burned, but ploughed on, managing to fill a few bags with juicy leaves.


You have to pick both these greens before they bloom- otherwise they can be bitter and/or bad for you. thats the only precaution!

Apparently, you can use nettle just like spinach- once its been steamed. then there is no more stinging involved, only delciousness. So, soup, lasagne, spanikopita are all possibilities.

heres the haul:

I used a handful of each ground elder and nettle, threw them in a pan with some garlic and oil. I chopped them using the food processor and made a kind of pesto, adding canned corn and feta cheese. My exotically local greens were tasty! They are about like kale in terms of chewyness tho, so one must factor that in when incorporating them into a meal.

here is the result:



the lentils i made with another local herb- lovage. plus an onion, thyme and a curl of orange peel. (you can see the lovage in the smallest baggie on my countertop haul picture)

all in all, it was deliciously healthy and fun to find. plus, i think i get some viking points, right? maybe i can get a boost up in the immigration system here in Denmark? hah, yeah right. anyways thats the report.

in all my weedy glory,
marie

ps: as per my mentioning how much more i relate to wedding-themed pop-culture, here is the katy perry video with the wedding dresses and insanity: love it!

Dear jen,

hello! life IS moving fast. look how little we've blogged-!

but wait, i just have to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOO YOOOU!!!! what did you do today? did you get your tattoo yet?

i have been thinking more and more about getting my septum pierced. with a little horseshoe. if i ever get around to it...

i went to another birthday party today, for my friend Anna. she is just great, and her friends are equally excellent. which made for a great picnic and round of the danish version of california kickball. (wait, is that i Canadian thing, or do you have california kickball in Utah? wikipedia says its just called kickball for you guys) ANYWAYS, tons of down to earth women, not wearing the danish-mandatory mascara. and anna even got a dildo for her birthday! hah! but most surprisingly, i got 3 separate compliments on my shoes. this may sound silly, but my shoes really stick out here. they are big clunky brown Keens, in a sea of feminine ballet-flats in girl colours. i always feel like they stick out here and am a little self conscious that i need to wear such supportive shoes to ease my foot pain. and i got compliments on them!!! outstanding, totally makes my week.

but also makes me sad, as i have become selfconscious about things as stupid and my SHOES in this godforsaken country.

which brings me to my next point:
6 WEEKS TIL I COME BACK HOME!!

GLORY GLORY GLORY!

you will beat me to my hometown, but your birthday present will be waiting for you there at my mom's house! and i will see you again soon my dear.
Hope your special day got you compliments on something you were not expecting, and maybe even a silly ball game too?

love you.
xxx
marie

Dear Marie, grant writing, dandelion tattoo and a printmaking class

Dear Marie,

SO MUCH HAS BEEN HAPPENING!

I just can't even tell you the joy in my life right now.

When I was in my early 20s I was SURE that we were all just wandering around, suffering and miserable, working jobs to pay for things we thought would make us feel better, trying to navigate relationships that we'd just be better without, trying to make this human experience bearable. I don't feel like that at all anymore.

For example: This was my day.

I usually dread my office job, (see previous posts). I drag myself in at 9 (today it was 9:30 whoops), try to look busy all day and end up with a headache from squinting at the computer screen all day. I've been going back and forth for about a month: should I quit or should I stick it out?? All of the reasons for staying felt like fear of losing the sense of security the job provides, all the reasons for quitting felt like selfish and immature "but I want to PLAY" reasons. But one night I just said to myself: "my sister always says: if it's too hard to make a decision then don't. Just wait until it feels right" So I decided to stick with it. Low and behold the very next day I was presented with an amazing opportunity. The executive director asked me if I'd be willing to write a grant to get a mobile dental clinic up and running to provide care for people in rural communities that don't have access to care. HELLO! That is EXACTLY the reason I got into this whole healthcare world in the 1st place. I wanted to work for the under-served. BAM! The universe provides to those who succumb to it's wily ways.

THEN! I went to my printmaking class at the Saltgrass Printmakers' Studio in Sugarhouse. So great! I'm learning a process called frotage, which I'm sure you know, means rubbing in French (like sexy rubbing, hehe). It feels so so so so so so good to be taking art classes again. And processes that don't require drawing are good for my confidence. It feels equally as good to be able to AFFORD art classes without having to give up good meals.

AFTER THAT!! I went to the tattoo studio and made an appointment for my dandelion tattoo. Tattoo artists are such good people (at least Luis at Eleventh St. Electric Gallery is). Again, being able to afford this is an amazing feeling. It is my birthday present to myself. I am going to be twenty six years old!



I hope the springy feeling of luminosity is hitting you too! Write back.

Love you,

Jennica

PS: here is a new video by my new favorite: it's to make you feel good about being sad if that's what you're feeling right now:

Dear Marie, come to me

I found you an apartment. The guy was was dating here in SLC moved out to go on tour with his band. It's 5 minute walk from my house. All hardwood floors. HUGE west facing window that looks out onto the whole city. Place is cultured, like sourdough bread or homemade yogurt. 2 bedrooms. So I found you a roommate too. My Unitarian friend Kathrine who was supposed to fly in from Mali, West Africa today. She is as crazy as us. I waited at the airport for 4 hours but she didn't show up, so I left. Hope she finds me.

Love You, Jennica

Dear Jennica,

Big News:

after work yesterday Hans met me and gave me the big news:
good news: he got a phD offer at university of western ontario. 28 000 a yr, 4 years. he gets to teach kids in english, and have peers passionate about the same things as him.
bad news: its in the middle of nowhere, FLAT ontario. the province i never wanted to live in!!!

i told him not to apply to places i didnt want to move to. but he did. he said 'we'll deal with it IF i get in! i wont even get in'

well, now hes in and weepy because i wont move there, and its an oppotunity he has GOT to take. AND its all happening in the middle of our goddamn holiday to paris! so much for carefree holiday-time with my old friends. the university has to hear a YES or NO from him on the day we get back!

aint life grand?
the poor guy cant even appreciate this crazy fantastic opportunity because he cant picture living anywhere without me. bah.

i am obviously not sure where i even want to be, i guess he should just go do this and let me work my shit out.

ok. enough of that.
maybe i will end up with you in SLC afterall.
xxx
marie

ps: i just cant let it go! can you imagine moving to this cultural backwater to follow some guy? the idea of living on campus as a university wife is so fucking weird. all of this is. i am only 24 and i am already busy following someone else's life around.

Dear Marie,

marie!

I will pay for you to move to slc. given that it's a reasonable flight. you will move in with me and we will look for an awesome studio apt for you. i will introduce you to the community clinics so you don't have to worry about not having health care and obama will soon take care of that.

you will clean for me until you are dissatisfied making $12/hr and then you will think of something fantastic and unheard of and fabulous and worth telling your grandkids. or mine.

then you will get bored and find some other place to spring and sprout and you will take me with you. and we'll write it all down.

love,
jennica

Dear Jennica!!

you are so outrageous. blow-up mattresses, ex-boyfriends, car accidents!!! in Colorado!

amazing.

i am so sorry to hear Adam is drinking so much though, drowning. i have never had a friend who fell like that. or, one that i kept in touch with anyways. maybe Heidi, my old best friend from high school turned out like that, but i have no idea. she would know i would be dissapointed in her, so she'd never let me find out if thats what was going on for her. you are a far more supportive friend to your friends jennica.
unconditional acceptance. i am more like, conditional adoration/hatred.

hahah- or at least, i was. most days i dont even know who i am here. and now i have this crazy hip haircut and glasses, the people staying at the hostel where i work treat me totally differently. its all just an illusion jennica!

what a bummer about your UU con. how did they get so dissatisfying? its been a long time since i had a good one. what happened? cons and life used to feel alot more real, in general. now its like cons. still going to same places, mttg new ppl. its just less exciting now, more humdrum, less satisfying. more bitching.

altho your weekend sounded pretty damn SOMETHING. real. even a totalled car! maybe my life is just boring because i am 8000km from you!! Ms. Center of the Universe! All fun/insanity is in your gravitational field, leaving my gravitational field with the feather dusters, balled up socks and linty hats.

part of me wants to get on a flight and come clean for your new business. fuck all this!

but here i continue to sit.
xxx
marie

Dear Marie, Denver, long lost love and accordian cars

I went to Golden Colorado this weekend for a Unitarian Young Adult conference. The Mountain Desert District which includes Utah, Colorado, Montana (?), Idaho, New Mexico, Arizona and parts of Texas used to have an amazing young adult group. 30 or 40 people would show up to well organized gatherings and really grow and change and develop the district. This one, however, was totally disorganized and not "spiritual renewal"ly at all. We mostly played games and bitched that only 10 people showed up. Remember that guy you met at Opus in Toronto? He says hi. I've known him for almost 10 years. The sexual tension between us finally exploded on a blow up mattress in a church classroom with 5 other people sleeping around us.

That Monday after the con was perhaps the weirdest day ever. I went to Denver because Adam lives there. Remember him? That old boyfriend of mine who I still adore and is the only truly good man I've ever met? I wanted to see his life and see if there was any chance that we may one day get back together. I don't think we will, which was a sad realization. A lot like when you realize there is no Santa or Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny. But it's good too. We love each other very much and if rings, babies and picket fences aren't in our future that doesn't change how much we mean to each other. He's got a wicked clear perspective on him, me, us, life. He noted that if there was really a chance for us, I probably wouldn't have made out with that guy and invited him to hang out with us in Denver.

When Adam and I were together he partied a lot and that was a large, contentious issue for us. I hoped it had gotten better but it had actually gotten worse. The day I left I cried to him. I said, "I'm not saying this maternally but as a concerned friend..." He said "You don't even have to say it, I already know." He's either got to quit drinking or he's going to drink himself out of house and home. He's not taking care of himself, he's suffering. I'm trying to get him to move back to SLC.

So Johnny, who I made out with the night before, and Adam, whose bed I was sleeping in that night, and I all hung out. It was sort of awkward but Johnny and Adam seemed to really get along well. It made me really happy to see those two together since both had told me they'd felt a severe disconnect and didn't have many, if any friends in their lives.

Monday started with me loosing Adam's little doggy while he was in the shower. The cutest little brown mut you've ever seen. I went outside with her to let her pee and she took off. I chased her around the block for 20 minutes before she finally ducked out of sight. Adam was very calm about it (his trademark signature). We looked for her for a bit, then had breakfast, then looked for her some more, then went to the neighborhood pub (his second home) and started drinking at 2pm. Then his sister in law called saying that someone had called her. A woman had found a dog in the park and after googling the outdated information on her tags finally came up with someone with the same last name and hoped maybe she was related to the Adam on the tags. So we got in touch with her and went out to pick the dog up. She said it took 5 people to get her out of the street. Thank god for humanity.

Later that night, Johnny came over and we went out to a bar. As we got progressively drunker things got weirder until Johnny was asking "where Adam's heart was" with me or with this last girl he dated. He couldn't answer (in retrospect, I'm glad he didn't because that was a totally inappropriate conversation to have at that time in that company). But in the moment his lack of response made everything fall apart. Johnny took off "on a walk" and I was hissing "don't touch me" as Adam was trying to figure out why I was so pissed off. By the time we were all rounded back up from getting pissed at each other, I didn't even THINK to ask if Johnny was alright to drive. I just assume if you are the driver you are going to be responsible. I just wanted to get the fuck back to Adam's house. I don't think Johnny was even all that drunk, but he was so taxed from the con and staying up with us till 4 the night before and the energy between the 3 of us was so rotten at that point Johnny accidentally ran into a parked car. He hit the car so hard that his is now totaled. The other car had a mere dent on the bumper.

Now that I think about it, I think I have whiplash. We are all ok and we were only about three blocks from Adam's so we all went back there and slept. Johnny and I wrote a note to the guy he hit and Adam took off staggering up the street. Some girls on bikes said to us as we followed a block behind, "You're friend is pretty drunk. You should be watching out for him better."

Adam was SO drunk that I had to literally put him to bed: take his clothes off, give him a glass of water and tuck him in. I had my choice that night of sleeping with someone unconscious from drunkenness or someone at least conscious enough to snuggle. So Johnny and I blew up the air mattress and made out again.

This is my life recently. 1st I got in a bike wreck while on my way to the tattoo shop to make an appointment for my dandelion tattoo. Then I got the worst cold ever and was out of commission for a week straight. Then a friend of mine broke my big bay window simply by leaning against it. Then this rough weekend. But in spite of all this havoc I feel very centered and calm. It feels like the universe is testing my serenity and I am passing.

Love you,

Jennica

Dear Jennica,

hello dear. this has been a hard month, technology-wise. that last frustrated blog post was just a fraction of the pain. it all started when i accidentally dropped rasmus' external hard drive, destroying its inner mechanisms and all my pictures for the last 4 years. then rasmus' wireless card failed. then the fan in my laptop failed, and all it's USB ports. so, murderous rage at blog deletion? murderous rage at our techno dependant lives, really.

but i still think what i was typing back there was important. so, on my boss' time and without further ado: the story you have all been waiting for:
(all... 3 of our readers? haha)

me and hans took a walk across the street from our apartment building. we entered this huge government run complex thats mostly empty, but signs told us that there were artists studios, play centres, rehab centres, re-training programs and then... suddenly. we were walking past Juvie. a prison for underage people! complete with 3 storey high barbed wire fences and cameras.

we stared and then suddenly, there were prisoners staring back at us. we quickly looked away.
they shouted out 'Hej!' (hi in Danish). I looked back and made eye contact with them, acknowledging their greeting, but not saying anything. So they started to heckle us! 'Hey! We said HEJ! When someone says Hej you say it back! Dont you know?'

Me and Hans turned a corner and looked at each other incredulously. Were we really just heckled by prisoners 2 blocks from our house??? Then Hans stopped and said 'Did you get that? What they just said??' I stopped and said no, i hadnt. 'They just said what? you wont talk to us because we're foreigners?!'

WHat! I was floored. They decided, because of my white skin, that i was danish and racist. and therefore unwilling to talk to them. When i, too, am a stranger here. So their prejudice based on my skin colour made then presume i would hate them based on their skin colour! it was just weird.

then poor Hans felt like maybe he hadn't talked to them because they were 'foreigners' and started worrying about his own prejudices, which is just nuts because we didnt talk to them because they were prisoners shouting to us from behind a big scary fence! not because of their skin colour, or our skin colour.

now, if i was a more gutsy lady, i would have marched right back there and said 'Lookee here, boys. I ain't no dane. Now don't go shouting at passersby, and dont go presuming things about me because of my skin colour, just as i will not presume things about you because of yours. Got it?'

but i didnt. because... they were prisonsers shouting to us from behind a big scary fence...

anyhow, it was shocking and revealing and all just right across the street.

in the meantime, i started my new job here. its at a hostel in 'the ghetto', just down the street from my old apartment. its a 30 min bike ride away from where i am living, which is, by danish standards, quite a hike to work. and today- it snowed on the way. but besides that, its ok. i am meeting a very strange group of people, really young naive travellers, doing the backpacking thing i never did. europe. 2 weeks. endless cash.

but there are some interesting people besides them, who have real things to say.

but now the boss is here, so ... bye!
xxx

Dear Jennica,

That last post of just an m is a tribute to the blog post i JUST FUCKING TYPED and was deleted. i am going to rise above my murderous rage and re-write it.

yesterday we went for a walk.

you know what? i am too pissed off.
the entry was almost done!

bye
m

Dear Jennica,

m

Dear Marie,

Ah, I'm back. I went into a hole there for a while! And today I found the bottom of it. I drunkenly ranted at a friend last night about everything accept what I really wanted to tell him, then woke up this morning feeling like ca ca and it just got worse from there. Until I didn't even have the gumption to spit my toothpaste out. It just sort of dribbled into the sink. I was SAD. Like how you get when you find out you accidentally pushed the "blow up the world" button instead of "save the planet" one.

I drug myself to my friend's house to do some sewing this morning, which somehow made it worse, to the point that I didn't even want to go to BUTTARS PALOOZA.
Chris Buttars, Utah Senator said these things:



I just got on my bike and rode home. On the way I saw a guy I met at the bar the other night when a friend was playing. He didn't remember me and was in a shitty mood too so we went to the Coffee Garden to mope together. Somehow, being around someone in a worse mood than me, who was having a REAL existential life crisis, made me feel better. So did biking up the hill back to my house. Get the endorphins running. And then I came home and found an envelope I'd hid that had $100 in it!!! Coup d'etat!!!

The reason I was in such a funk was because I have been working so hard at my 2 jobs and new business that I felt like I wasn't doing any of them well. And worst of all I am having a really hard time "keeping it together." But today, at the bottom of the well, I asked myself, "what do I even mean by 'keep it together'?"

Basically I felt enlightened when I just accepted that all I've wanted to eat this week is peanut butter and peach jam for breakfast lunch and dinner. Instead of getting so mad at myself when I'd "cave in to a craving" and just eat the damn food and know that I'm not going to eat PBnJs for the rest of my life, I'd feel ok again. Being 25 is just like being 4, only now your mom is inside your head telling you what to do.

Love you and will respond to the idea that real people are famous too and ideals shmildeals.
Jennica

Dear Jennica,

Holy camolee. There is so much media interaction with my life personally right now, its wild. and i dont mean in that 'wow, we live in a media saturated world.' i mean.. people i know. being famous and listened to and googleable. which is alot weirder than i thought it would be.

its my old life, in Canada.

Looking to get updated on Canadian politics, i went to our nationally funded broadcasting corporation, cbc.ca to get the downlow. But an ad caught my eye- its a TV show called 'The Week the Women Went' and the premise is this: take a tiny town and give all the women a week away at a spa. this will reveal the ineptitude of the local men and make excellent entertainment! it sounded like a neat idea, so i clicked to learn more.

Turns out this season's town to turn upside down is Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia. MY Tatamagouche where i stayed three times in 2007! Out of all the little towns in Canada, they chose this one! My heart racing, i clicked on. This town is so small, people in Nova Scotia havent usually ever heard of it. Its so small you dont have to even remember a person's address when you write them there- just put their name and Tatamagouche and the mailman knows where they live.

While most of the time in this town i was working on an organic farm and staying in this crazy house with 9 people, i also made friends and came back to stay longer in this one main street kind of town- namely with Cyd. A potter who lives in an off the grid, one room log cabin she built by herself. We ran around together for a week, just being girls and having fun in the woods. It was an amazing time for me, and suddenly her name is all over this website!

this town, where 60 cent ice cream is still a reality, and life is quiet, these people who i lived with, are being smeared up one side of fame and down the other!

this is Cyd and Tam:
http://www.cbc.ca/thewomenwent/people.php?id=52&season=0

and their relationship and lives are now reality TV!
its completely shocking to me, in a very unprecedented way. i never really thought about what it would be like to see someone i know intimately blown to pieces for entertainment purposes. TV is so judgemental and rude in a way that real people would never treat each other, its disgraceful to me suddenly.

anyways, the national news is even doing stories on these people, and everyday Canadians in the grocery store now know who Cyd is... what a strange thing to witness from all the way over here.


NEXT...
ok, so this one didnt find me. i found it. but i googled my cousin's name and bam! She's on the radio!

http://www.rabble.ca/audio/by/artist/alicia_gladman

alicia is so sweet and idealistic in this interview it breaks my heart. she's talking about an organization i used to work under too, and i remember saying things like she does... and its strange, because i am not there in that head space anymore. I was really, really, into bikes. And then i came here, to Copenhagen. Where there are so many bikes they have traffic jams of them. And all the idealistic stuff kind of drains away under the bright glare of the sheer number and success of bike culture here. Its exactly the opposite of what Alicia talks about in her interview- instead of amazing community involvement because people here are on their bikes and exposed to each other- people turn being on a bike into being just like in a car. When you are at a stoplight here, surrounded by strangers on bikes, there is no small talk. Socially, its just like being on a bus. There are strangers in your space, sometimes they annoy you, but mostly you just ignore them.

there were all these revolutionary ideas i harboured, believing bikes would be the answer and true way-- and instead, here, you can see what happens when a city fully embraces and facilitates bike culture. its still a city. its not suddenly a hot bed of change and enviromentalism. you still cant even recycle your tin cans here! but you CAN bike anywhere you want.

everyone biking here has even made other forms of public transportation ultra-expensive, because so few people use them. hello 4 dollar bus ride... so much for accessibility.

and for the record- people dont want to be enlightened with how to fix their own bike. this is something i have come to terms with. they'd just rather pay someone else to get dirty, just like how we arent all growing our own vegetables.

so- my next question is: is this also part of the new 20 something condition jennica? realizing the ideas we held just a few years ago were misguided and naive in a lovely, but hopeless way? and then watching people we know become media exposed? and what are we supposed to do with all this new depressing information? become wise or something? GAH.

thats all the selected news of the week.
ok jennica, tag you are it!
xxx
marie

Dear Jennica,

Lets follow up- gmail chat is becoming the downfall of our blog! we keep telling each other important things on there, and then it all makes less sense on here.

You said, lets have more pictures. and i said Yes! So here is a drawing of Hans I did today. I am feeling a little proud of myself because his mom said it looks like him. I have been really struggling with portraits of people because I can make them look realistic, but they lack the je-ne-sais-quoi of actually looking like that individual person. Know what i mean? And his mom is usually pretty honest about my work. What do you think? I am missing my life drawing class in Berlin, so i need to do more sofa session like this one, i really love drawing people.

Next, my dad emailed me saying he STARTED A BLOG! Now, my dad is over 8o, and i dont really know him, so this kind of incredible!! Even more incredible, he doesnt know how to email a URL. He just said his blog was his name. Wow dad... i'll just type your name in up there with a .com... Anyhow, its bizarre. Here is an excerpt:

Attended the New Kensington High School, received the Bausch and Lomb Honorary Sciebce Award for the highest four year average in science and math. Was 1st violinist in the High School Orchestra and sang tenor in the choir. Was President of the Ken Hi National Honor Society. Went on to a BS Degree in Agricultural Engineering at Penn State where I was Secretary Treasurer of the Student Branch of the Am. Soc. Of Agricultural Engineers.

It goes on like this. Its like a resume. While it IS fascinating that he received an honorary 'Sciebce Award' in high school (and not a spelling or grammar award, obviously) its weird these are the things that matter to a man near death. I think i told you he just moved himself into a nursing home this fall, the kind you go and stay in until you die, and does this man- looking back upon his long life- really want to be remembered for his dinky high school award? Am I, upon deep reflection, blogging about my science fair award in high school? Absolutely not. This is a man with very different priorities than my own. There is no mention of his 8 children or 4 consecutive wives, although he does mention he breeds dogs! I wonder what people are deducing from between the lines of our blog?

meanwhile, behind me, my mother in law is exhibiting how Danish can be so similar to english. the dog jumped on the sofa when she was all dirty:
dum hund! she says, dum dum hund. dumb dumb hound indeed.

I have to go make dessert, Hans' little sister just got back from Mexico today and she is coming over for dinner. Certain women in this house being immensely fulfilled by very gendered tasks need a large meal to be prepared for the occasion, so off i go....

Love,
Marie

Dear Jennica,

Love,
Marie

Dear Marie, snug as a bug in a rug

So...there isn't a Danish Dream like we have here in the states? Or at least it is certainly a xenophobic dream. I guess they don't want just anybody to use their free health care system, free education, minimum wage of, what, $15 an hour? You'd think they'd at least let you pay the 50% tax rate or whatever it is.

I've been thinking plenty about my decision to stay in Salt Lake. All of my friends outside the state strongly suggest I move some place more socially and politically progressive, with a more vibrant art community, a more established infrastructure of community organizing and social action. When I get frustrated here, I day dream about moving to a place where Critical Mass isn't criticized even by the people you'd think would be down to participate. A place where I don't have to convince people that performance art doesn't just mean plays, dance and poetry slams. I'd like to have a conversation about political correctness with more than just a bunch of white middle class people.

All good reasons to leave Salt Lake. But regardless of its shortcomings (all of which I believe are on the verge of changing), Salt Lake is a fucking fantastic place to live. On clean, clear days (I'll tell you all about inversion some day) the city is surrounded by magnificent mountains, snow capped in winter. Pockets of creativity, diversity and rebellious insight are consistently strengthened in the face of adversity. If you ever need to polish your Fuck You attitude, Salt Lake is a great place to do that.

On top of all this, it's EASY to live here. I can have a luxurious one bedroom apartment in a turn of the century home in nice neighborhood for the same price as a bed in a 2 bedroom house shared by 4 people in an apartment complex 20minutes from the train in Brooklyn. I can work less than full time and make enough money to live comfortably.

The coolest thing, however, is I can start my own business or non-profit, throw parties or events or workshops, open a boutique or themed restaurant. And anything I do, people will think it's original or unique. This city is just enough behind the times that even ideas that are mainstream, common knowledge or so last year in New York or LA are still brand new here. And the community is tight enough that new ventures are likely to be supported and thrive.

I'm saying all this not in a neener-neener-my situation-is-better-than-yours sort of way, but to point out a stark contrast in choice and priorities. Denmark is awesome. There is something you have been strongly attracted to in the land, government, people and culture. For a long time it has been worth being an outsider, not knowing what people were saying all the time. And even if you know the words, sometimes the culture differences are so profound that you feel totally lost. Regardless, you chose your lifestyle with admirable intention.

Now however, you are seriously reconsidering your priorities. This can be a very empowering thing, but sounds like for you it's overwhelming. You've given it everything you have. You went way beyond anything I would have anticipated, marrying a Dane! That should show the universe your serious commitment to your relationship with this guy and with the country. I try to hold myself back from telling you to do what I want you to do, but I just want happiness for you. All the way from being in alignment with the big, big world down to a little, personal coup d'etat here and there.

How can we make this happen for you?

Love, Jennica

Dear Jennica,

When i was little, and TV was forbidden, there were a few videos we were allowed to watch. one was anne of green gables, for example. and one was something like 'world's funniest commercials.' some kind of british best-of collection from the 80s. we watched that video so many times, we knew all the punchlines. one we used to quote all the time bears an uncanny resemblance to your last letter.

it went like this:
man with mohawk walking down the street. hes a punk in leather and his hawk is multi-coloured. a proper british lady voice in his head says 'If you want open a back account, you've got to look SMART.'
he looks at his reflection in the shop window and looks worried.
he gets a normal haircut
he looks at his reflection again and hears the lady saying the same thing...
he puts on a suit that doesnt fit him.
he takes off the eyeliner and facial piercings.
He finally walks into the bank and up to a teller, they are kind and he is satisfied with his efforts.
then he looks over and who is also being treated kindly at the wicket next to his?
two dirty punks in leather and metal.
man in suit too small for him has sudden realization of his own prejudices.
*cue sappy bank narrator saying how blabla bank appreciates ALL its customers and enjoys diversity.

so jennica, you are hearing that same british lady in your head. saying you wont be respected by mainstream people until you look SMART. or boring. or mainstream. i do that too. and i dont have an answer. i dont have an answer to anything tonight.

i was just glad to see you had written back.
i am feeling seriously LOW. we went and looked at an apartment tonight, and we were SO hopeful. but we got there and she said a man wants to buy the place and is going to the bank tomorrow and so maybe sort of probably not BLA BLA BLA.

we keep waiting for a fucking break!! this was just the fucking elephant that was already sitting on the camels broken back. we are homeless. unemployed. awaiting possible deportation. waiting waiting waiting. i am so sick to death of waiting, i could really hurt someone. i may already be hurting myself with all this, i feel like i am at the bottom of a really low downswing and i keep thinking, THIS has to be the bottom. y'know? how could it get worse? and it does. it keeps getting worse! whats worse than not having a job? having a job waiting for you and being forbidden from doing it by the immigration authorities! whats worse than feeling you dont belong in a country? waiting in line outside in the cold to go into and office and be told by a real live person that you dont belong!

i have got to get out of this mess. this mess in my brain and this mess in my life. i am so sick of these same dead circles of frustration.

tomorrow we have our meeting with the 'foreigner office.' then i have to call my new job and tell them that despite my being married to a Dane and having lived here for more than 2 years, that NO i am actually not allowed to work for them. even tho me being not allowed contravenes European Union law, no lawyer can help us because 'these cases never go anywhere.' and so NO, i cant start on Monday. NO you cant pay me 18 dollars an hour and NO there isnt a fucking thing any of us can do about it.

fuck that. fuck this!
m.

Dear Marie, morebiggerism

I’ve only been having one little repetitive thought lately. What if people aren’t taking me seriously? What if the conservative folks I work with in my State Agency, paper shuffling, office job don’t take me seriously because I think hiking boots fall into the category of “business casual” and I just won’t take my nose rings out?

Do my stylistic choices categorize me even more than my ideologies, my world travels, my income?

“If you want people to take you seriously, you are going to have to grow up.” I don’t know where this voice in my head originated, certainly not from my old hippie parents. Maybe I heard it from a dad on TV and it stuck. Somewhere in my brain lodged between the notion that a woman’s beauty is her most important asset and that Fruit Loops can be considered part of a balanced breakfast, is that ol’ notion of “you gotta look the part.”

Well, I don’t want to look the part. I want the part to look like me. I want ME to be taken seriously, not some facsimile of me in a pant suit.

Like you, whitey, or me as the heathen in pants at Sunday school, I’m just going to own it. You know that old George Burns adage? Or maybe it was Woody Allen, who said “I wouldn’t want to go to any party that would invite the likes of me.” No, it was Groucho Marx. And he said, “I wouldn’t want to be friends with anyone who would want to be friends with me.” That’s dumb. I want to live in environments and work with people who take me seriously because I make the lifestyle choices I do, not despite that.

The director of the Environmental Ministry at the First Unitarian Church in Salt Lake gave a homily last Sunday called Conspicuous Conservation. GENIUS! Instead of using consumption as a sign of wealth, popularity and general superiority, let’s start using the human habit of peacockery to promote a lifestyle and value system centered on environmental conservation and sustainability.

Besides the hipsters on fixies, I feel like there’s a common opinion in Salt Lake that the only reason you wouldn’t drive is because you are too poor or irresponsible to have a car. SUV still equals status here. While cycling, gardening/composting, reducing/reusing are gaining popularity amongst the liberal folks in the Marmalade District and Sugarhouse, the rest of town (i.e. the suburbs) still suffers from the morebigger-ism associated with the immature aspect of the American Daydream.

Is there a Danish Dream? Or a German Dream?

Dear Jennica,

What an interesting story. The church has such an all consuming role in Salt Lake, it keeps amazing me. The thing is tho-- that despite its omnipresent role in your young life, there are still rules you dont know, or dont understand because you have never really been a part of the community. You've always been the outsider wearing pants and luring these young boys astray.

Its not unlike how i grew up in such a dominantly Chinese suburb. Even though i know the drill, can tell you when its time to celebrate things and swear in chinese-- i will never be chinese. My identity will always be that of someone just outside of it, when people see me and hear where i am from, they dont see my experiences in the community where i was raised. Because race becomes involved, i dont get to belong to the club. I recently recalled these two guys in high school, actually--

lets call them Thomas and Walter. they were chinese and they were always together. they both loved basketball and their thing was being a team of 2. they would rap and laugh at each other's jokes, they were Thomas and Walter. Inseparable. but the main thing they would do is finish each other's sentences. and the one they would use on me was this:
Thomas: stupid
Walter: whitegirl.

they'd look up from their classwork and say it to my face. deadpan. i'd roll my eyes and go back to whatever i was doing. that was just life.

i had forgotten all about this til last month, when it came back to me, suddenly, and i realized how fucked up that was. i think Vancouver and its suburbs are actually pretty fantastic places where racism isnt a major issue, but things like this did happen and it was ok with my friends and classmates because i was white. wait, no because in their eyes i was whitey.

even tho i was a minority in my school i was supposed to belong to the cultural majority nationally and thus had to absorb outsider feelings of not being chinese AND absorb the negative stuff coming off of local groups who saw me as the oppressing majority. they saw that majority in me- even when i didnt. i was always the awkward whitegirl, i didnt bring any mooncakes to school and i was too tall. i was wearing the pants at the funeral too. but i am not there in Richmond facing this anymore, and you have gone back to all this, intentionally, in Salt Lake. i am still outside wearing pants tho, but now i am at a different funeral where i am allowed to not belong because i fall under the title of foreigner.

so i dont just have in-laws i dont understand, i have in-laws that speak a completely different language. and i am bitching about it! but now i am wearing pants as a choice too, right? how about that.

but on to another part of your letter- Myspace. social networking websites. online friends.

wait, no. first- you told a really intense story! i wish i could give you a hug about it. death like this is especially haunting and can follow you around.

and it was so complicated by technology. you didnt want to keep him as a project, or a real friend, but somehow you kept him around as an online friend. its a whole new level of social distance. at my new years eve party last night someone made a joke about meeting people and right away knowing they would only qualify to be a distant online social contact. me and Tola starting dissing people with facebook, and talking about the benefits of real-live friends-- like stinky breath and vivid colours. but the real point was how much we hate facebook and will never get it. Henning is here visiting from Vienna and he was making sarcastic comments about his facebook addiction, how he's actually 'twitter'ing his constant movements to facebook (he's not, really) (but i didnt even know this was possible- you send a sms (text message) to your own facebook- updating it remotely throughout the day!)

how bizarre this adding someone as your friend because they have the same class as you, but never actually speaking to them when they are physically just two rows over! and i am such a hater of it, i love being above it all. facebook? No way, i say proudly. but as the world of facebook grows (i already occupies 1/3 of all internet usage!) i get further and further away from the world and me and Tola are the only ones left idealizing stinky breathe and dirty faces. so somehow, it IS bringing people together and leaving us out.

my own sister has told me so many times that i would know more about her everyday life if i would just get facebook already! poo poo for not being allowed to see my sister's life and poo poo for more time being used to create social networks that dont actually bring us closer together, but let us keep each other an arms length apart, just far enough that we know when they die, but not close enough for real human connection which might save us. how enragingly ironic.

love,
marie

ps: its really cold here.