couples fighting

Couples fighting in the subway. I was in the train the other day. The subway cars in Stockholm are quite nice, lots of seats, there are no weird liquids or fluids.
you get seats quite often. My friend says there are weird smells but I can't smell them and I'm pretty sure they're coming from me.
Oh, couples fighting in the Subway, don't you see how lucky you are? You are both blonds and can wear skinny jeans without irony. Nobody else is paying attention to you, Swedes are too respectful/borderline autistic to notice, but I am. I am trying with no success to understand what you are fighting about.
Oh, couples fighting in the subway. Did he kiss someone else? Does she hate his mother? You fight in such a demure manner. And public transportation is the perfect setting, your audience (me) captive with no escape. The best kind of romantic comedy. Displaying your Swedish perfectness, the fact that you have someone to fight with, your bold, yet paradoxically measured, fashion choices. Will you kiss and make up in the end? Will you notice me, spying on you through the crowd and the raindrops dotting my glasses? 

So this happened today. Like two weeks ago I commented on some guy's (apparently holy) Facebook post about Obama and how he "sucks" or whatever. I said something to the effect that I thought commentary like that is not productive, unnecessarily inflammatory, and just lame. Then the "conversation" turned nastier. This guy is part of the #Occupy movement, which I totally not think is a good thing, for reasons and things. Mind you, I have seen this person not many times in my life, but we've been Facebook friends forever, I met him through a dear friend of mine. Last time I met him was over a year ago, under his insistence. He attended a college near mine. He never really bothered me, until he got #started on #occupy. He always posts pseudo political crap, like, the kind of of shit #americans who think they are relevant but aren't think is thought-provoking. Annoyed the living shit out of me. My news feed was flooded by his #occupy stuff, like "Oh I got arrested today, what a tyranny we live under!" Meanwhile, you got arrested for knowingly breaking the law. You're waisting your time, my time, the police's time, the government's time, and, less importantly, money. I do not think that is productive for fucking anyone. So, I hid his newsfeed. But somehow that comment/link about Obama popped up and I was having a shit day RE: patriarchy in general, so I responded. I guess my logic was too much for him to handle so he accused me of "not knowing anything", which is a sound argument anywhere. (I am guilty of using it sometimes, we all make mistakes.) I accused him, in turn, of not actually doing anything productive for anyone who is less fortunate than him, which, to be fair, I don't know if he does or not, but I highly doubt it. He says he #totally does and cited examples which are impossible to fact check.
The only times I have met this guy, he has been loud, obnoxious, and a weird mixture of a reactionary and a #liberal. He mansplains a lot. We hung out at Smith one time and my friends hated him. By how he treated one particular friend who somehow decided it would be a good idea to give him the time of the day, he has some #sexist issues to work through (relationships wise). Which, all tied together, lead me to believe he's full of shit.
Anyway, this complicated rant/prelude is to explain this following conversation that happened today:

He thusly responded just a couple of minutes ago, but I'm too tired to edit the picture or whatever. 

  • "If you really want to troll me on the internet go for it. Be sure to include the part where you, after not saying anything to me for years, felt the need to tell me off on my own Facebook page. Sorry if my existence upsets you, but for someone that is playing the race, sex, gender, card left and right, you certainly seem to be judging your fellow human being pretty Damn fast without asking any questions, and it seems your opinions of my life are based upon mainstream media conceptualizations... Which I would have thought would be something you, a righteous fighter of good, would be working to expose as a biased tool of the patriarchal system we live within. How dare you." (sic sic sic sic)

Apart from the excellent grammar and composition, it is funny that he says that my opinion of his life are based upon mainstream media conceptualizations  whatever he fucking means by that. It's funny because a couple of different things: I do not consume mainstream media, partly because I am not in the States, and it doesn't reach me that much. I actually am not aware of what #conceptualizations the main stream media has of #occupiers. (I also find it hilarious that he tosses around the term "mainstream media" just like the Republicans do. The term itself, what the fuck does it mean? It's one of those bullshit smoke-screen terms that rich people say and, depending of what side of the aisle they sit, the meaning changes) IF I had a conceptualization of him or his #peers influenced by media, it would be by feminist (and I would argue, not mainstream) sites like Jezebel, Autostraddle, or Feministing. These are basically all my news sources for American #happenings. 
Also funny, he seems to forget that I do know him, and I have talked to him extensively not that long ago. He is so righteous in his beliefs that he actually does not see his own privilege, yet insists all the time that he does. I wish you could see this dude, hear him speak, he is so aggressive, talks over people. As a friend said, he is an "obvious candidate for this cognitive dissonance". And not only obvious, but oblivious as well. I apparently need to engage in a war against this mainstream media thing because it's a "biased tool". How quaint! How reductive! How #black&white #americafuckyeah! The media is to blame? Oh shit, I can quit now, then. Setting aside the fact that I am a film student and I am very interested in how media works, where knowledge comes from, and the hierarchy of power that knowledge produces, I am not interested in debunking Fox News or CNN or #anyMajorNewspaper. Or whatever. Jon Stewart is my homie, but he is not the Messiah and I rather be making films. 
The dude has since unfriended me on Facebook. Like, 20 minutes ago. 



Okay so yeah. I am sorry for not writing sooner. But you know, things and reasons. I have no idea how to start a post of everything that's happened in the past five weeks, so I'm just gonna go with it and hope the narrative takes a shape on its own.
Week 1. On August 13th I left for Paris. I cried a whole lot in the airport and the day before as well. I was sick and had a fever (why not!). The people doing security check always seem so jaded by crying people. They must see that shit every day. I got to Paris the next day, and I took the train from CDG to Jess' house in Bastille. I had to change trains twice and go up and down, no exaggeration, 7 billion flights of stairs. When I got to wifey's house, I have rarely felt so happy.
I spent 10 days in Paris with Jess, going to parks, taking pictures, and eating ice-cream. We went to many clubs and I met a lot of cool people. Paris is awesome in August; there's barely anyone there and you don't bump into dumb tourists in the streets. I met a couple of high school friends. Jess and I watched a lot of Buffy (duh duhd uhd).

The second day of my stay in Paris, Jess and I went to a friend's apartment and there was a girl there from Bolivia. This chick was strange, I thought. I said something to her in Spanish and she wouldn't answer me back. She asked me what I was doing in Paris about 5 times in 15 minutes, while relentlessly sipping on her white wine and littering the floor with cigarette ashes, much to the home owner's chagrin. Huh. The apartment had a nice mix of people from all over, 70% native English speakers, I would say. Bolivian girl, who I later found out was 34 or some shit, kept being loud and asking everybody the same questions, tuning out the answers, I guess. At one point, as we were all having the best time ever ever, she decides to start speaking (awful) French (two people there spoke no French at all) and insisting we all do the same because we were “in Paris to learn the culture.” Wow, I had no idea! I thought I was there to hang with my bros and smoke mad weed, but whatever. We tried to ignore her, but bitch was so insistent (to not say ANNOYING AS FUCK) that she actually drove everybody out. I can now honestly say that I have met the most annoying person on the planet. Then I decided that I will never again let anybody ruin my buzz ever again because life is short and buzzes are expensive.

Well, maybe not all of them.

Jess and I had many yummy foods and made fun of people. She gave me good advice and I cried when I left. After a ridiculously hard trip to the airport, I got in my plane to Stockholm.
I got here August 26th, which was a Saturday. My friend Mattias picked me up from the bus station. With a car. Instant win. He took me to a rave in a park. I was in a rave within one and a half hours of my landing in Stockholm.
Week 2. We went home later and he told me all about Sweden. 1. Don't talk about drugs. 2. Swedes are hard to get to know. 3. Jobs are hard to find (no shit!). He drove me to school the next day and I moved into my dorm room. It's not quite a dorm, I have my own bathroom, but I do share a (gross) kitchen and (sad) living room area with like 11 other people. The kitchen always smells weird and the jury is out on my hall mates. Tonight there's a party in my building but I am lame and I have watched 9 episodes of Louie and ate old McDonald's.

The first week was orientation and that was nice. Didn't do anything. Went to a strange party with all international students in which the music legitimately sucked all the hairy balls. Euro-trashy-housy-Ibizaypop. UGGGGHHHH. I meet some cool people and stared at all the girls with green hair.
Week 3. I started one class which is sort of boring but okay. It's a lecture type, hardly any input from the class, and our professor kind of just reminisces about all the important people he's met in the film business. It's hard to keep awake (and by hard, I mean impossible, I have fallen asleep a couple of times). But it's cool because we get to watch old movies in an actual, comfortable, movie theatre most of the time. My classes are held in Filmhuset, which is this huge 70s'Architecture ugly-ass building that has its own cinemas, Sweden's only film-oriented library, classrooms, offices, and also the Swedish Film Institute is housed there. NBD.

Bam, motherfuckers. This is where I learn shit. (That entrance way is gonna be a problem in the winter. It's a 100-meter slope)

Week 4. Money is running low and I want to get a job. I have already applied for a few, but gotten no responses (this pattern continues until today). I actually don't remember many specifics. I went to a bunch of government offices just to be told I cannot get residency here without a health insurance card issued by Italy (because I am here with an Italian passport). I cannot get this card from the Italian embassy, so I am fucked. Until I get a job, I was told, I will not be able to declare residency, and, without this, I will not be able to open a bank account, obtain a cellphone contract, or any of that cool shit.

Week 5 or 6 or whatever. It was my birthday on Monday and it was actually quite shitty. I cried a lot because I have no money and no job. I have neglecting the SHIT out of my classes. I am supposed to read ALL OF THE ARTICLES EVER, but I haven't really. I feel a bit better now, although today was a waste of a day and I am a waste of a human being.
I got some presents though, for my birthday. My friends here (who are all German for some reason) gave me a tumbler coffee mug, a BIG cup for soup/coffee, a scented candle, a Kumbia Queers bag, and many kisses which I appreciate endlessly.
Okay, so my status right now is: useless, poor, and jobless. Hopefully this will change soon. But you know what won't change? My bad case of UGLY.

JK this is gorge

Coupled with the fact that I am apparently suffering from a late adolescence in my face, the women of Sweden are just incredibly fucking beautiful. Everyone says it, but it's actually stunning how ridiculous-looking everyone here is. Perfect skin, perfect hair, and, most of all, FLAWLESS FASHION SENSE. Ugh I feel like a deformed mutant who can only afford to shop in Salvation Army in some backwoods county 7 years ago. Also, I lost my iPod, so I have to suffer my self-deprecating thoughts super loudly when I'm in the subway looking at these superhuman models go to class in high-heeled ankle boots, tight black jeans, and the most expensive-looking sheer peach blouse ever, army green coat, with their iPhones, texting something insightful and funny to their perfect fucking friends. I cry in my head at least 3 times a day from lack of self-confidence.

Most of the people I have met or am friends with are foreigners. Swedes are strange and eccentric. I might be too weird for them. Or they are too individualistic for me. It's strange living in a country where everyone minds their own fucking business. I am involved in NO drama for the first time in my life, and it's legitimately weird and I have no idea how to behave or meet people.
Anyway, this post is weird, not funny, and mainly a mass update. I am scared, very very scared, that I might have to leave, because I can't find a job. I have almost no money left and I have to like, pay rent and eat food. I haven't been eating well, or regularly. It's like I trick my stomach for most of the day and then just have one big meal at dinner.

I miss you

But I like it here, a lot, even though it's fucking cold as fuck. The Internet is fast (I downloaded a movie in EIGHT SECONDS TODAY. EIGHT) and the people and buildings are nice to look at. Yup.