Expat Jon takes on the world (well... Sweden)

I always considered myself one of the good guys when it comes to women.  I am a proud feminist that actively tries to grow in my feminism.  Back in the day I was honest with women when I didn't want to get serious.  I thought I was doing my part.  Then I read this article about rape culture . It was basically a letter to men explaining how we subconsciously contribute to the fucked up situation that is rape culture.  I took mental notes and vowed to do better.  As I read through it I thought to myself that I was already doing some of the things the author suggested.  I was still a good guy.  I just needed to get better.  It wasn't like I raped  anyone. I'm sold on the fact that rape culture is real.  I'm sure that we men all contribute to it in some way.  But I had somehow excused myself from much of the responsibility.  The real problem was the rapists out there.  The predators were making it bad for all of us. ...

You ever have something weird happen to you?  Of course you have.  We all do.  Don't feel weird about it.  But most of the time there is some explanation.  Something that makes you understand that maybe it wasn't that weird.  Then the world is back to normal and everything is okay.  However, sometimes something weird happens and it doesn't get explained.  That's the worst!  Me with my obsessive personality, I can't handle things like that.  I just pore and pore over it looking for some sort of answer that never comes. Take my hangy-ball thingy for instance.  In case you're not familiar with my use of the proper medical term (hang-ball thingy), I'm talking about that little organ in the back of my throat between my tonsils. I added a picture of a "uvula" below so you have an idea of what I'm talking about. My hang-ball thingy is a normal one.  It functions however they are supposed to function.  I've never had a p...

So Pride Week just happened here in Stockholm last week.  The week of festivities is culminated by a huge parade.  Word is, there were 60,000 people at the parade this year!  That's a lot of pride.  I had to work on Saturday, so I was unable to attend.  I hadn't thought about attending, though.  I didn't know how big it is here.  I didn't know the level of support that the gay community gets here.  I must say, it's remarkable. While I was working, Young Cousin called me to see what I was doing.  I told him I was working.  He said that was unfortunate.  He was calling to invite me to watch the parade from his friend's balcony.  He said they were having fun and the view of the parade was awesome.  I tried to hide my surprise.  Young Cousin is 23.  At 23, a gay pride parade would probably have been one of the last places I would have gone to.  I wasn't homophobic or anything (or was I?), but I was more ignoran...

Sometimes things from the past belong just there.  In the past.  I was recently smacked in the face with this fact.  My friends and I regularly reference memories of our childhood.  We talk about things that were awesome and shaped our lives.  On most occasions those references include clothes, games or movies.  When it comes to movies, I'm obsessive.  I want everyone to see the movie.  I love dialog, so I memorize the cool quotes and then use those quotes in real life situations.  Normally I do this with popular movies so I don't look like Rainman.  But here, I look like Rainman anyway because movies that were popular back home might not have been popular here. My movie-watching prime was from the late-80's to early 00's.  I still watch movies regularly, but I must say I'm not quite the repeat watcher that I used to be.  The last movie I obsessed over was "There Will Be Blood".  You can't really go around quoting that m...

I was born a little thick baby.  Not too big, not too small.  I guess at six pounds, I was a little bit bigger than most twins, but nothing special.  Being a twin, I always had that reference point.  I was the thicker twin.  The "big one".  My brother was always the "skinny one".  In all actuality I was kind of chunky.  Like five ham sandwiches away from being a fat kid.  Luckily I loved to play sports and stay active.  If the internet would have been around I would have been a fat ass for sure!  But it wasn't and I wasn't. My family called the weight "baby fat".  My chubby cheeks and big legs were filled with baby fat.  Doesn't that just sound cute?  The problem comes when I become an adult and my body is surrounded by "grown up fat".  Then "Tiffany From Across the Street" came into my life.  That was the summer that I turned 13.  I will never forget that summer.  It was in Chicago.  I had ...

When I was high school age, one of my best friends in the world blew my mind in the grocery store.  She told me that what I had been putting on my "grilled cheese" sandwiches and "cheeseburgers" was not real  cheese.  I stopped in my tracks and promptly began arguing my case in the dairy aisle.       - Get outta here!  On the commercial they say it's cheese.  That's cheese! I continued my rant and she slowly, silently guided me over to the "cheese" section and picked up a package of my precious cheese.  There it was.  Cheese was right in front of my face.       - They don't even call it cheese themselves.  They call it cheese food.  Look. I investigated.  Dammit, I had been duped!  As an adult I realize the power of marketing.  They put the yellow product up and put it on a sandwich and a cute kid eats the sandwich and the viewer says that was cheese.  But on the commercial they were c...

In some aspects of our upbringing, Swedie and I couldn't be more different.  We have spoken about this a lot during the years.  We find some things out about how we were raised and are completely surprised.  My mom didn't let us eat candy until well after we had our permanent teeth (WHAT?!).  Swedie's dad stuck a piece of candy in her mouth when she was around six months old (WHAT?!)  Upon discovering some of these revelations, one of us may say:      - That's not happening with our kids. That was all okay when we were talking about a hypothetical child.  But now we have an actual breathing human being that we have to raise and it's time to make those compromises.  We're at the stage now where we're just feeling each other out.  It's round one and both fighters are just throwing jabs.  He's still too young for any disciplinary actions to take place, but we are already trying to get on the same page - rather write a page tog...

I have a love/hate relationship with the Swedish language.  I love some of the words for their practicality and some for their poetic nature.  The language is significantly "smaller" than English in terms of the amount of words.  Add that to the fact that all of my life I've heard how English is the most difficult language to learn and learning Swedish should be a breeze, right?  WRONG!!!  This language is a pain in the rumpa! First off, I'm very proud of where I am with my Swedish.  I have worked hard to get to where I am.  I also like to think that I'm pretty sharp, so that's why I caught on so well.  In truth, I was lucky enough to have an awesome grandmother-in-law (Hi Birgitta!) that was willing to spend time teaching me proper (and sometimes outdated) Swedish.  She refused to speak English with me from the day we met.  Thankfully  I had completed Rosetta Stone Level 1 Swedish so I kind of understood her when she told me that...

    It all started when I was 23 years old.  I was still in the Air Force, living in Turkey and at the peak of my physical condition.  I was pretty proud of myself.  I was on the squadron basketball and softball teams.  I did PT with my squadron.  I had just got back from Iraq, and I had nothing but extra time on my hands to hit the gym extra hard (I also didn't have as much access to bad foods).  To me, I looked GOOD.  So one day I was doing my all-by-myself-in-my-dormroom flexes in the mirror when it hit me that I was missing something.  I would look at least 8% better if I got my nipples pierced!  That would put me over the top with my sexy!  My boy OX had them and he was quite the lady's man.  He was in great shape.  My other homie Marco had gotten one nipple done, but he passed out from the pain and didn't get the other one.  He had since removed it.  I'm sure it couldn't be that bad though.  And i...