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A Quickie

By Bitch Ph.D.

Laptop backed up; currently working. Going into shop tomorrow (sigh, I can't afford more debt). Luckily, Mr. B. has a laptop too (mine is also my work machine), so I will borrow his for work this week and maybe do a little blogging too. Though I really will have to let him have it when I am at home, since I'll be taking it away from him all day. He might otherwise go into withdrawal.

I had a kind of revelation today. A lot of my readers say, "I get the idea of open marriage intellectually, but I could never do it myself." And a lot of other readers say, "but shouldn't you try to work out your problems with Mr. B., not with other people?" And I suddenly realized, these are the same question. Yes, I (anyone) should try to work out my problems with my husband. And, in fact, I do. But getting what my (our) problems are intellectually doesn't mean that we can, actually, stop having them. Just like intellectually being "ok" with open marriage doesn't mean that you could actually do it yourself.

For some reason, I find that I can, sometimes, not have those same problems with other people. This is, I assume, because other people have slightly different personality configurations; they don't, maybe, push my buttons in quite the same way, or because they are new I am more polite, or because they aren't my life partner of 15 years (20, if you count the time we dated before marrying), I'm just less in a rut with them. So, say Dateboy does something that Mr. B. does, and it drives me crazy when Mr. B. does it, and I almost always yell at him. And I've tried, really hard, not to yell at him about it but it really just drives me so fucking crazy and I know he's doing it on purpose and why do you always do that? Really? Those of you who have been in relationships (i.e., everyone) knows what I mean.



But Dateboy does it. And because he's not my partner, I find that I don't particularly care, so I don't say anything. Or I do mind, but because he's just my fuckbuddy, I don't think I have the right to yell at him, so I don't. Maybe I sort of mildly object, or maybe I just let it go. And then I realize--I feel, as distinct from intellectually knowing--that actually, this really wasn't that big a fucking deal. It didn't ruin the evening or anything. And I sort of have this little epiphany and I realize that even when Mr. B. does it, it's not that big a deal. And now I know how it feels to let it go, and move on. So next time he does it, I recall the feeling I had with Dateboy, the not-caring-so-much, and I don't yell. And Mr. B. notices (or maybe he doesn't, but let's say he does), and he sort of stops what he's doing. He has time enough, you see, to realize what he's doing because I haven't immediately yelled at him and put him on the defensive. So he realizes, and he goes, "oh, I'm doing that thing you hate. I'll stop now," and I go "omg! That's all it took? Me not yelling?" and we both feel much better. Or maybe he doesn't notice, and he does it, and I sort of roll my eyes and that's it. And then I feel, afterwards, like "wow, that was kind of irksome, but you know, not yelling actually makes me feel less stressed over it than yelling and starting a fight."



I don't know if that makes sense. I'm just saying, knowing something with your brain and knowing it in your gut are not the same. Sometimes it's hard to learn things with your gut with some people, for some reason that one usually can't figure out. So sometimes you can learn them with your gut with someone else. And once learned, they're yours to keep.

I promise to try to blog about the work/cheating connection some more--hopefully soon, on Mr. B.'s laptop. It'll all be anecdotal and personal, so very fun in a voyueristic, "omg this person is so fucked up, I can't believe she has a job" kind of way. I'm sure you'll all enjoy it. And, in fact, it is also true that my job hangups are something I am very definitely learning about from some of my boyfrirends, who have job hangups very like mine (which Mr. B. doesn't), or from other boyfriends, who are totally free from those kind of hangups. So there again, in figuring out this shit with them, I'm hopefully, in the end, going to make Mr. B.'s life easier in the long run.

Stay tuned. Ann Althouse, stupid as ever, seems to think that my comment about this uncharacteristically banal post over at EotaW is somehow not insulting her as well as the post's author. Just so the record's clear, Ann: I'm accusing Scott of being *almost* as boring and idiotic as you are everyday. (Also for the record: it's fucking obvious that Obama isn't paying attention to the young woman in the red dress. NOT THAT ANYONE SHOULD GIVE A SHIT.) Luckily some of her commenters get it.






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Comments

I do tend to freak a bit when their is a bug, but quickly recover and I cannot imagine not flushing after use. But I am neither English nor Japanese, so maybe that doesn't count? There are no rules between couples other than the ones they set. Fuck who you wish, or not and NEVER apologize to the idiot Althouse!

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