Just searched B'craxy to see if a consensus was reached on a name for Bitches 24 and came across this:

Bitches 23: That's all we do now. Not have sex.

Hee.

Shower. Ugh. SO much better. I cleaned my office this evening, and it was pretty stinky-making. The weather is great right now; I have all the windows open and am in a sarong, and it's wonderful.

Yeah, for once in my life I white-fonted details. Someone drop dead of shock, now.

I need a haircut BAD. My split ends could be used to scrub out 20 gallon pots -- deep-conditioning treatments just get sneered at and beaten up.

While I just don't see how you can look at this beautiful thing and have the same associations you'd have with an assault weapon!

Gosh, that is a pretty gun. When I was in grade school I'd bring home from the library the big books of antique guns and swords. I think it was the decoration and the fascinating gizmo-ness of them that fascinated me. My mother was disturbed. She didn't like Daddy teaching me how to shoot the .22, which is odd because she was the only one who ever shot anything (snakes with the shotgun [she has an Extreme Prejudice policy re: all snakes and would not tolerate the idea of knowingly allowing one to live within a thousand yards of the house])

An aversion to things that look like things people used to use to kill each other -- allergic to smoking?

Medical issues are introducing just a wee bit of bias. It's a symbol he's averse to. Not a danger. Just a memory of a danger.

I'm not commenting on the merits of his opinion, but the dynamic in the relationship. To make things work in a marriage (I think) you have to concede your positive against your partner's negative. (Not always but generally) you compromise your Good Thing if it's going to be your partner's Bad Thing.

This doesn't change the fact that I don't get to have this beautiful thing that I've been building up in my mind and looking forward to for ages, but I'm only sad and not angry now.

I think this is a case of "the king may die, or the horse may die, or I may die, or the horse may talk"; by the time you've achieved your dream, your husband may well have gotten used to the idea.

Also: Go Erin with the details! You scrumped with a young critter.

you have to concede your positive against your partner's negative

So (and I'm chronically single, so bear with me) they don't have to examine their negative? I mean, no always wins? There's no sucking it up from the other side?

I sure did!

Or he scrumped me, or something. "Scrumped." That's a new one.

I may never walk right again. But that's...kinda ok.

So (and I'm chronically single, so bear with me) they don't have to examine their negative? I mean, no always wins? There's no sucking it up from the other side?

Not quite. You're completely able to raise the issue and try to get your partner to reconsider their objection. Sometimes they'll go, "Huh. You are so right." But rarely. Ultimately you have to respect their feelings even when they seem CRAXY. Bottom line (my opinion only) you have to privilege the relationship over your wants, but that doesn't mean you can't advocate for what you want.

And some issues are non-negotiable (cf. JZ giving up beloved cats to move in with allergic me.)

Erin's new tag: "scrumptious".