Biking=blasphemy

Ok, so being thrown into the death-defying world of biking in the Netherlands is tame compared to Denmark. Why? Because there are HILLS here. I basically have to ride over something like this just to get anywhere worth going. Because I am definitely not one of these:
(What up National Geographic!)
riding a bike is not the simplest of tasks.

Like going to say, the city center. Living in the ghetto may offer cheap food, but its boring as hell. I've been making excuses to take the bus lately, either feeling guilty by spending money on it (close to $3 each time...phuket.) or, tempt fate and not pay. (No Mom, didn't learn my lessons in SF...) but today I turned over a new leaf, and was like, "Girl, you need Kanye's workout plan" (Or, just wear this shirt?) so I'm determined to ride that P.O.S. every time I can.

Today Emiel and I put that into effect by going to the center, so I could go to the Police station and attempt to apply for my visa. Yes, 2 months later! Don't judge me. Anyhooter, I couldn't find the effing place, rode all around the block, then finally asked, she gave me crap directions, told me to go left and look for a yellow house, so of course I go to the





<--WRONG YELLOW HOUSE!









But the lady was nice, even though you can tell she gets the same question a zillion times a day, but I finally got to the immigration office, out of breath and 12,000 degrees, and the lady was a total beez. She told me my account information showing how much of a baller I am (from Wells Fargo!) was "not sufficient" and that I need a Danish bank account. Well, if she wasn't such a dingbat she would know that you can't get a Danish bank account without being a registered citizen, but you can't register as a citizen without a visa, but I can't get a visa without a Danish bank account?

Tell me where I went wrong.

Whateva. I'm ovs it, but then we went and sat at this cool cafe/art dealer/studio and hung out for 5 hours attempting to work on our Eastern Europe assignments, but pretty much goofed around and listened to the girls next to us speaking english in their knitting circle. But, to come full circle, on the way home I thought my heart was going to pump out of my chest and my freaky jello legs would just wobble away. Yes, that bad. Uphill (MOUNTAIN) and windy is never a good combo, especially paired with my lack of physical stamina and crap bike that plays this really exciting game called "whenever Sarah is at her peak of physical exhaustion, thinking she is near the end, I will switch into the hardest gear, making it IMPOSSIBLE!" For $20, I think I deserve more.