duermemucho's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- minimally invasive The weekend in California was dominated by my brother and I in hiking boots tackling the hills and ridges of Pt. Reyes National Seashore. It's an immensely popular and busy recreation area, being only an hour or so drive from San Francisco and having reasonable weather throughout the year, but we managed to avoid the crowds by sticking to the most difficult hikes of them all and taking them in the reverse direction from what at first glance would appear most reasonable. It's nice to see my brother has started thinking the same way I do. Our Saturday morning loop began with a 1.8-mile uphill jaunt with a 400 meter elevation gain, which made it basically a continuous stair climb into a cloud deck. This was done (at his insistence) all at once without a pause for breath, and by the time I reached the top I thought my lungs would collapse. But the cool, damp air made such labored breathing bearable. It was cloudy, and in the shady spots under the cedars and live oaks it was as if were raining; fog collected on all the leaves and branches and dripped in noisy splats to the forest floor below. I found a couple of neat mushrooms, which is something you rarely see in California in the summer. My mother has learned to stop trying to pry information out of me. That's a welcome development. She hasn't learned to talk in a reasonable tone of voice in public, but you can't have it all. ********** As promised last week: surgical sterilization. A "minimally invasive" vasectomy. I'm having it done in a little over a month. I look upon this event in the same way that many people look upon their impending marriage, or the purchase of their first home. My American dream is to be assured that I'm never, ever going to be a biological father. Preferably not a non-biological father either, but that one is easy to avoid. I went into the clinic with a chip on my shoulder. I was certain I would have to match wills and wits with someone whose job it was to talk me out of it. In fact I had to do very little talking, as the staff at the Pre-Arranged Reproduction clinic would be happy to do the slicing and suturing for me, so long as I have a way of paying (which I do). I've honestly never been so happy to have to put on a jock strap with an ice pack tucked into the front. They say they pinch off the severed ends of the vas deferens with titanium clips, to prevent reattachment (good thinking, that). I didn't ask if the clips would set off airport metal detectors. I hope not, as that would be a difficult one to explain to the TSE guys. No more reproduction! No more fuck-ups and worries! What more could a sane person ask for? 5:11 p.m. - 2006-08-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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