The jump

My father and I were on a three-day hiking/climbing trip when the weather forecast predicted a higher risk of thunderstorms for the last day than we would have liked. (Thunderstorms in the mountains are not pleasant hiking weather, and thunderstorms happening while you’re halfway up a rock wall and tied to a steel cable are an electrocution waiting to happen.)
We still had a rental car until the late evening, though, and we were much closer to Jauntalbr├╝cke than either of us live, so we decided to take a detour. A text to my roommate over breakfast got me the code from my bungee jumping gift card, and a rather lengthy trip through the website later we were good to go. (The car still worked, too, despite much diligent work on the previous day. In my defense, it was really hard to tell the clutch was in third gear when I tried to drive off uphill. Repeatedly. Anyway, the burnt smell dissipated really quickly afterward, so it couldn’t have been too bad.)

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Stand-to-Pee devices for trans men: an overview

At the most basic level, an STP consists of a bowl and a funnel: you hold the end with the bowl to your vulva and pee into it, and the funnel directs the pee away from your body more or less as a penis would. (Even at this basic level, though, there are variations: the Freelax and the Pee Off are really just grooves.) Different models vary in shape and size of bowl and funnel, the angle at which the two are connected, material, color and overall design.

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Hiking challenges

I have spent the past week hiking and climbing mountains in South Tyrol with a group, diligently working my way towards dying of skin cancer by getting another (few) sunburns and overtaxing my right knee badly enough on the descent on the second day that I had to miss the third and finish the last two limping.

Still, it was worth it. My day-to-day life happens within the concrete jungle of the city, walled in by houses, my field of view dissected by the (mostly) harsh straight lines of architecture, flat hard ground beneath my feet, and while I roll my eyes at anti-civilization sentiments, I do need to get out and away sometimes to remember that’s not all there is to the world.

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Changing roommate

R moved out.
It all went pretty fast suddenly – she announced that she might have found something one Thursday, looked at the apartment and signed the contract the following day. I spent hours plotting and organizing so we could handle her move, M’s move into her vacated room, and a trip to get a new fridge (ours belonged to R and she wanted to sell it) in a single go to save on rental costs for the van.

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Sweden Day 10 + 11

On Day 10, we go for a long walk in a forest very strange for Swedish standards: it has no blueberries. Instead, it has ferns and moss and grass like ordinary forests, and more deciduous trees than usual. It also has giant anthills almost every few steps, and we spend a lot of time watching the jumble of ants going about their days, running back and forth without apparent reason or grappling with objects much larger than them.

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