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April 2, 2006
blue balls
When my last relationship ended, the first decision I made was to paint my house blue. All right, the first decision I made was to change my locks and passwords, but the house color was right up there. Previously, I'd heard disapproving clucks anytime I mentioned painting the house. "Blue is such a cold, ugly color," said the owner of a warm, resplendently beige house. I wouldn't go so far as to say I gave her veto power, but when the words "cold, ugly" greet your every mention of an idea, it's pretty easy to move on to another project. Thus the house remained unpainted, and the moment I realized that I could do what I wanted without getting smacked by negativity, I did it. There was some urgency to it. "I need to get this house the way I want it before the next relationship," I thought. "Get the decisions grandfathered in. Preclude all debate."
Which brings us to my testicles. I love 'em, and we've had a good run, but it's time to cut ties. "It's not you," I'll reassure them. "It's me. Specifically, it's me not wanting you to wreck my life."
Really, the only reason I can think of to leave their plumbing intact is that a possibly irreversible procedure seems more of a couple's decision to make. Waiting seems like the polite thing to do. Yet the same part of me that preemptively painted the house blue is nagging me to make a vasectomy a fait accompli, as well: "Are you totally deranged? You're actually inviting debate on this? Preclude, 'Daddy.' Preclude."
posted by john at 7:30 AM • permalink