Attack

So I am aware that I have not been maintaining my blog, even remotely, since I came to Canada. Possibly because I am sending mass emails, and I feel that simply copying these mass emails … is a bit of a cop out. I have wanted to write many things in my blog since I got here, but in amongst the crazy things I have been doing, and the stress and intense work load of an express semester (as a result of a faculty strike), I really haven't had much time.

What calls for a blog now, you ask. Well, I need to get something off my chest, and it isn’t exactly something that calls for a mass email or, more pointedly, is appropriate for a mass email. Sure, I could turn to one of my friends on exchange, but really…It’s not what I want to do.

So I’ll give you the low down. My residence is a really nice place, and the staff running it are really respectful and caring. My housemates generally, are a great bunch of people, and although many of us have a lot of differences in personality and opinions, we get along pretty well and I wouldn’t change my living arrangements because of them. Until now, that is.

In the past two weeks there has been…some questionable objects discovered in our house. And rather than beat around the bush, I’ll tell you and many of you (whoever bothers to read this, that is) would not be surprised. It was two used condoms. Sure enough, it is not all that surprising giving it is a student residence after all, and perhaps that is what prevents me from being totally grossed out. That, or something is wrong in my head, but I don’t think it’s that.

They were discovered in different places and at different times, and naturally, most of the house are offended and disgusted. And while I don’t really have the disgusted notion under my belt, I am offended that someone would disrespect our house like that, particularly if it is a resident. Upon finding the first one, our head of house asked us all, honestly, if we did it or knew anything about it. I answered honestly, in the same fashion in which I was asked, and bluntly said no.

Despite the fact I might not be totally revolted, I would never do it – because to me those things are extremely private. It’s not something I would want anyone else to see, that only comparison I can make to this is a girl leaving a used tampon out for the world to see. It’s not something any average girl would do, and in the same way, leaving a used condom out for the world to see is not something I’d do. I figure my house mates know me well enough to know that I am a clean guy, sure my room might be untidy, but while I have been here I have shown nothing but good hygiene. In fact, I am the cleanest person in the kitchen, my dishes are never left around and I always clean up immediately after myself (and unfortunately before I cook, or make any food).

Unfortunately however, my hygiene or more so, my personal integrity has come under question following the discovery of the second one. Admittedly, I got the impression my Head of House kind of thought it was me initially, I honestly thought I’d quashed that idea. But it was extremely disheartening to learn that, however diplomatic my housemate (and not the head of house mind you, he seems to be avoiding me at the moment) was in telling me, that my name seems to be coming up a bit as a suspect. No, beyond that, they are convinced it is me. Apparently I am the most sexually active housemate, or the most likely person to do it. From that I can gather two things… actually it kind of bounces back to the one.

Plain and simple, it’s because I’m gay, and I haven’t exactly hid that fact from my housemates. And while my housemate, as diplomatic as he was, assures me that this is not the case, I cannot think of any other reason for it. The assumption that I must be the most sexually active housemate must come from somewhere, and I have certainly not given any of them reason to believe I am having a lot of sex, or even sex in this house. While it’s only conjecture, I’m assuming it comes from the age-old stereotype that gays are promiscuous. Secondly, being the most likely person to do it, is an attack on me. Despite the fact that I don’t believe I’ve given any reason to warrant the accusation that I am disturbed enough to run around placing used condoms of mine anywhere, they seem to think so. That interlocks with what I was saying in the first place.

I keep repeating that my housemate was very diplomatic, that’s because I was impressed at the level of diplomacy I saw. It was, under any normal circumstances, something I would compliment him on. But not this time. Obviously, I responded just as tactfully as he did me. Naturally that means I hid my anger, and yes, hurt, at the accusation.

The point is, my housemates without me, at some point have come together and concluded that it must have been me (or, without seeming too convinced by this point, someone outside of the house). That is hurtful on so many levels. How can you live with people, who hold you with such little regard? Should I assume that for every disgusting thing that we are yet to see (or hopefully not see), that I am the likely suspect?

Apparently the college are going to be undertaking an investigation, I welcome that; I have absolutely nothing to hide. And I do hope that it is someone in this house, just so that they can be revealed to be the person they are convinced I am. In the meantime, I have a mid-term to study for, which I have been successfully distracted from as a result of a few tinges of anger and hurt.

Gah! I promise, I did like my housemates until now.