@EM So...someone who is a victim of sexual abuse should just continue to live with their trauma, rather than fix it? You know what she meant. This man sounds like he's very much deserving of a loving partner, as long as he does the work necessary to make sure he can satisfy his partners' needs, which is the condition that ALL of us have to meet to deserve and keep a loving partner. Right now, he can't, and he's not taking steps to get himself into a position where he can. Would you ever tell a woman to stay in a relationship that is sexually unfulfilling, sleepless, and moody in any other situation? It sounds like he's done well, but that doesn't mean he's done doing work.
LW1: As a practical matter, Jesus Christ on a cracker, do not become an anthropologist if you want to make money to support your family. I was a double major in anthropology in college, and every anthro major I knew is now either still in graduate school and hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt, or teaching elementary/middle/high school, which they did not need a fancy and expensive set of degrees to do. It's a fascinating discipline to study, but not what you need right now. Major in something with a career track and minor in anthropology just to enjoy it. Good luck to you in getting out of your situation.
LW2: You're not going to function with him only in the outside world if you marry him. You're going to be very much privvy to his inside world, which you're already starting to see, and it seems like a sleepless, stressful, angry place. Unless you want that to dominate your home life, get him into therapy and join him or go on your own if you need to. Especially if--and I'm totally projecting here--this is not the first guy you've dated who you needed to "fix" in some way. This is not a project you're going to be able to take on successfully on your own.
@blergh Favorite dating war story: I was on a date at the bar at Bemelman's, with an old-ish guy who had just announced, "Oh, you're a writer? I write too. That's why I don't read. To retain the purity of my thoughts," when the hottest dude either home from Harvard/living in a spare family apartment/whatever walked in and sat down a few stools away. I told my date I wasn't feeling well, we left, I got in a cab, told him to circle the block, called the bar and said, "Tommy, is the guy in the navy fleece vest still sitting there?" He said "yes ma'am," so I got out, went back in, sat down, and introduced myself. He thought I was a hooker for about 20 minutes, but after we cleared that up we went on to have a riotous few years.
The moral of this story is: never underestimate the frattiness of true WASPs in their native habitat. Especially with a couple of drinks in them. President Kennedy, after all, was the person who put the daiquiri on the map in this country. I will go order a Mind Eraser there with you any day of the week.
@Pombous I noticed that too! The thing that makes me think this has to be a Meloni reference is that I grew up in Larchmont with one of the members of the current SVU writing staff--we were in fact in cotillion class together in the 5th grade, although we didn't call it cotillion because it's not the South; it was just "ballroom dancing." Basically, it was kind of a cobbled-together Westchester/Fairfield story & location, not authentic New Caanan, but it certainly makes sense to me that they'd pull the name from someone they know.
@Bunburying I run outdoor adventure trips near NYC, and recently did a bike tour in Pennsylvania near the Delaware River that was PACKED with people getting off their bikes every five minutes to pick mushrooms. Not only did it make a 90 minute ride take 4 hours (I was at the back of the trip and was basically homicidal by the end) but I made them all swear not to eat them until they were at home because I had no idea if our liability covered idiots eating mushrooms they SWORE they recognized "from home." For the record, home was Siberia, not like, somewhere nearby. It was definitely a glass-half-empty day for me!
I live in Greenwich Village, had meetings today near Bryant Park and in Union Square, and date someone who lives in the Financial District. I love love love this goddamn city so much; that the ebb and flow of humanity on a nice spring day is such that I was in all of these places today and literally did not see a shred of this action or know it was happening until reading this post tonight. What a town.
Oh Brooklyn. Of course Fort Greene is living out a surreal, high-tone artistic/philosophical quandary, whereas every other neighborhood in New York that has them is basically...getting on with life? It helps if you think of it as say, the bus/subway station its actually analogous to, and not a piece of public art, which it isn't.
Oh, and if you ever get tired of asking each other basic logisitical questions, Citibike has a lovely website with answers to all of them. "Who’s going to ride all these things?" (mostly tourists, but some residents too) "How much will it cost?" (annual memberships are $95, day passes are $9.95, 7-day passes are $25, all plus tax) "What about helmets?" (buy a helmet) "What about parking?" (park it in another rack, there will be dozens anywhere you're likely to go).
And if you're curious about the long-term effects, ask someone who lives in Paris. It's basically the Velib system. And it will be both better than your fear and not nearly as impactful as you imagine.
@IBentMyWookie Yup. I know I have them. I would straight up pass out and die if my boyfriend mentioned them. I don't feel that way about hair anywhere else (yes, I have been that person in the "fuck you, if you won't go down on me until I wax, I'm not waxing until you go down on me" argument) but my lip? Ugh. I trim it religiously since my skin is too sensitive for wax or threading.
I used to date a Swiss guy who LOVED making risotto, especially in huge batches for parties. He would straight-up abandon me to the mercies of his friends who spoke French far too fast for me to keep up so that he could stir uninterrupted and without distractions. The risotto was excellent, though.
Do knock it off with the truffle oil. If I taste it and I don't see actual truffle bits, I will judge you harshly for it. Most overused and overrated ingredient in anyone's arsenal. Trust the rice; if you did it right it'll have enough umami on its own.
I am an em-dash junkie. If left unchecked, my addiction will spiral into an arrangement of dashes, parentheses, and commas that would not look out of place in a mathematical equation.