Monday, May 08, 2006

A few different things

Today I'll separate my post into a few different areas, since I've got loads of stuff I want to share with you all.

The first and most important one is smoking. I used to smoke. A lot. And I don't anymore. Doesn't sound that bad, does it? Well, I didn't quit smoking until last wednesday, so I spend most time of the day thinking about cigarettes right now. And the nights as well - can you imagine dreaming of cigarettes every single night? I use plasters to help me out, but even the strongest ones (15 mg) only help that far. And then you're on your own, trying to fight this damned desire.

Chris is home again. That's nice. I like Chris, a lot, and I've been missing Chris. Right now Chris is in the bedroom watching some anime at Darin (Chris' computer) and everything's back to normal. I like that, to know that someone will be there when I get home from school, yelling "Hello!" when I come through the door. To know that someone cares enough to call me if the person won't be home one day. It really means a lot, those small things...

I can always write a couple of lines about the future... Today at the lesson in religion, we spoke a lot about graduating and if we were going to eat lunch together that last day and when we're supposed to have our pictures taken and when they kick us out. It's so interesting, most of my class seems really excited and can't wait until the summer starts, so they can do as much as possible during the holiday. They are the ones who have something planned after that holiday. I don't. Or, well, I've signed up for two classes at Malmö Högskola, (sign language and heteronormativity and homophobia) for next term, but I honestly don't think I'll make it. Not with my grades right now, they're not as good as they should be. Not even close.

The last few days, wich means this weekend or so, I've had a few interesting experiences that relate to the name of my blog - after all, it's about my adventures in the world of heteronomativity. For example, when I was waiting for the bus this saturday afternoon, on my way to have a bbq party in the park with my friends, an older man approached me. He asked a few questions about the bus' time table, and then told me he'd just been in Sweden for a year. I was impressed of his swedish and told him that, and he seemed to take that as some sort of invitation. He kept walking around me, so that no matter what direction I turned to he'd always be face to face with me, just a little bit to close for me to feel comfortable. He also kept asking for my name, even thou I'd already told him, and mutterd to himself (in swedish!) that my name way a boy's name and that he must have heard me wrong. I didn't feel like explaining, so I just went on the bus after he did and chose a seat as far from him as possible, putting my bag and stuff at the other seat so that he couldn't move to sit with me.

Later on, when we were at the park, I was stunned with how many times people can say the wrong pronoun without stopping, even if they've been corrected. I mean, I told those guys I hadn't met before (friends of Jenny) what I'm called and I corrected then at least four times for using the worng pronoun - she instead of he - but they just wouldn't get it.

These aren't big things, you know. Not even enough to get me upset. But they say something about my daily adventures in the world of the heteronormativity. It's never easy, it's never natural and whenever I walk outside our apartment, I'm always supposed to be ready to hold an information pass about transgenderism.


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