Be your teenage dream tonight

So, the other day I wrote this whole rant about sexuality and gender, and then I deleted it all. Because this is a knitting (and cooking, and baking) blog, and I try to avoid politically charged themes for the sake of peace.

So here’s my two cents on gender, society and Glee, under a cut for your convenience.

Verás cosas que jamás soñaste ver

Most of the time, I don’t mind having the tram as my main mode of transportation. It’s cheap, it’s energy efficient, and I get out in the open air, plus it’s hassle-free and isn’t usually affected by traffic jams in the city.

Sometimes, I hate depending on the tram. Those days are usually in winter, when the system goes to jack due to snow, and you have to wait in the freezing cold for half an hour, and then slip in the sludge that’s accumulated on the tram floors. It’s also bad during rush hour in summer, where you’re squashed against sweating bodies in the already sweltering cart, and you get the general feeling of what it must be like to be on a cattle transport.

But once in a while, a day will come along where I love, love, love taking the tram. Like today, when the only space available was in front of an old lady, and we had a lovely conversation about sock heel construction.

And then, a couple of minutes after she’d gotten off, I saw Him.

He was dark-haired and mocha-skinned, about three years old, and spoke something that sounded very much like Spanish with his mother in his high kid-voice.

He was wearing a hot pink dress, and he was carrying a dolly in a matching outfit. And his mother sat next to where he was bouncing up and down in the middle aisle, beaming with pride.

I haven’t stopped smiling since.

Sometimes, I love, love, love taking the tram.