History repeats itself:

Yesterday was the last official day of the semester for DIS. To mark the occasion, there was a closing convocation at Kobenhavn Universitet where speeches were made, awards were handed out, and awkward photo montages were displayed. More importantly, the prize for best student blog was awarded, and -- no surprise here -- I didn't win.

Given my penchant for foul language, controversial subject matter, and occasional anti-Danish sentiment, I figured I was completely out of the running. I was fine with the little niche I had carved out for myself -- I've focused more on writing for laughs and entertainment than in the hope of winning some prize, so in some ways I had considered myself out of the running already. As it turns out, a few of the program interns came up to me later and said that they had really enjoyed my blog, and would have loved to have chosen it had it not been "too focused on drinking and partying for the DIS website." A completely fair assessment, I would say, although I do find it somewhat ironic that many of my longer entries were completed on quiet Friday nights during my self-imposed exile from socializing -- a time when, by all accounts, I should have been out getting plastered.

The winning blog was "A Broad" by Franni from Wesleyan, which I thought was a good choice. It is a little-mentioned but poorly-kept secret that all of the student bloggers ravenously read each other's posts, both in an attempt at entertainment and to keep up with the proverbial Joneses, and of the other student blogs, I enjoyed Franni's the most. While I set out to write the anti-blog for the DIS website (and succeeded), Franni managed to write with great sincerity without sacrificing the legitimate insight, occasional critique, and sheer entertainment value that was so conspicuously absent in many of the other blogs. Franni, as I'm sure you'll read this at one time or another, kudos. Although I still don't forgive you for losing that game of Taboo in our Health Care in Scandinavia class (I kiiiiid, I kiiiiiiiiid).

Once we were all suitably convocated, the deed was done, that was that, and we all made like a tree and got the fuck out of there. I spent another couple hours failing at Christmas shopping, and then I headed back to my home base to get ready for a last night out on the town. Despite the convocation's great pomp and circumstance, everyone knew that the real last hurrah for DIS students was the end of semester party, held last night at La Hacienda.

I had never been to La Hacienda, and most of my friends hadn't either, but it stood out in my mind for several reasons. First, it's close to DIS, so I pass it every day. Second, it's kind of trashy on the outside, which is only amplified when a drunk crowd gathers in front at say, 10:00 on a Sunday morning (I've seen it). And third, I've heard it's got a serious weather problem -- lots of snow, if you know what I mean.

As I discovered, the place wasn't actually that bad, as long as it's 9:30 on a Tuesday night and the place is packed with Americans. The beer was relatively cheap, which was nice, the dance floor was acceptably sketchy, which was entertaining, and I didn't see anyone doing any blow off of urinals in the men's room, which was a little disappointing. All in all, the makings of a good night, and a good night it was.

By 3 AM, a bunch of us were long gone from La Hacienda, having gotten a couple of casual beers elsewhere, and were presently stuffing our faces with shawarma, which may be what I will miss most about Copenhagen. By 4:00, we were waiting in the cold for our night bus, which at 4:00 in the morning comes once an hour or not at all. I checked all the time tables, figured out how long I had to wait, and that's what I did.

I found myself leaving this country much in the same way that I came into it -- standing alone in the idle 4 AM moonlight, drinks in my stomach, conversations in my head, and with plenty behind me, but much more to come. As I waited for my bus, I stopped at one last sausage stand, and when the time came, I hopped the bus and headed Home.

...except, meticulous timetable inspection be damned, I realized I was going in the wrong direction. So I got off the bus, hit an ATM, and hailed a taxi. At 5:11 on a Wednesday morning, I piled out of the cab, thankful to be back, one last time. It cost me thirty dollars.

Copenhagen, it's been enlightening.