It was my favorite spot. And if someone were in it when I arrived, I would wait patiently until it opened up. Nestled in a tiny corner with a white brick wall on one side and a towering window on the other, it was my place of retreat. Somehow, some way, every time I would sink into that chair, my mind cleared. It was ratted, torn, and on occasion had crumbs in it. But it was my chair, in my favorite spot. That chair has seen all sides of me, and has held me tight on both good days and bad. I used to curl up on it with a bag of Salt Licorice in one hand, a hot chocolate in the other, and both a fashion magazine and a good book. I would alternate between the book and the magazine. After all, I would spend hours upon hours there.
It was a totally different life for me, one that now seems like an eternity ago. A life of being watched by others almost 24/7. A life of catering to my extroverted personality. A life of traveling to a new city/country at least every month. A life of being on stage in front of people every week. A life of small fridges and large….well nothing is large in Denmark. A life of being busy with different projects each week. A life of being constantly surrounded by fashion and friends. A life of parties at my apartment. A life of biking everywhere I needed to go. A life of the sun setting at 4PM during the winter and 11PM during the summer.
…and a life that, at times, I want really want back.
I loved my life in Denmark. Nothing compares to beautiful Copenhagen with a cloudy sky overhead, the smell of coffee from the nearest café, and the sound of an accordionist on the cobblestone streets. It was wonderful.
I go through these bouts once every couple of months where I really miss Denmark. Like, badly. And lately, that bout has been rather long.
Insert a good friend.
Adam and I recently met up for dinner with two good friends of mine from Denmark. One of which is dating one of my Danish besties. And with them was a little care package. A bag of goodies from the land I love so much, sent by my little Iranian/Danish friend.
So that on days like today, when I am left with nothing but memories of a life I sometimes wish I had back, all I have to do is cozy up in a chair, break open the bag of Djunglevrål, and flip through the pages of “Costume.” And on days like today, I am reminded that although my life was great back then….it doesn’t even come close to the life I have now.
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