The summer may be half spent wwoofing in America (as antiipated) and the other half wwoofing in Denmark (?!) with a wee bit of backpacking through Germany and (most importantly)a stop in Amsterdam to meet up with one of my (polyandrous) mother's queer husbands.
I got the idea to go myself Denmark after an, um, interesting romp through my great-grandmother's geneology records (by interesting, I mean, "lets see how many wives great-great-grandaddy had") in which I found that my Danish bits go back way far in Vejle (I get my boobs* from the Danes apparently, my ancestors' pics made my back hurt just by looking at them) so I figured I'd check it out and see the place where we were inbred for centuries and see how many people in Vejle look JUST LIKE ME. I look less of a Dane with my new brown hair but, as can be seen in the old pic, my natural dishwater blonde (already greying, unfortunately) is so fucking Danish.
*quick boob rant- I'm still randomly losing weight (and by randomly, I mean I am overly obsessed with locally grown veggies and walk all over the city as an exciting form of procrastination), I might even be a size 10 by the time I make my stunning debut in Buenos Aires, but, alas, my boobs are not jumping on the weight loss bandwagon (lol, great image). Most people would think this is a good thing, without really getting the fact that, hey, not only am I somewhat disproportionate (though, apparently, I still qualify as "badonkulous"), my DDs can get heavy and I will use them to bludgeon the next girl I hear complaining about her cup size to her cell phone (again, great image)...and by quick boob rant, I meant a long one which you didn't really want to hear about...
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