Honeymoon Sweet!

Dear Dategirl, It seems that a lot of the problems you write about are because of what has become the "norm" for American society, a "disposable" society that has become comfortable with the notion that if something doesn't work, we don't fix it. We just get rid of it. What would happen if God woke up one day and said, "You know, you earthlings make me sick to my stomach?"—Brian

As I write this, I'm sitting on a lumpy but charming sofa in the sitting room of the honeymoon suite at the Olivier House Hotel in New Orleans. Don't worry, I didn't get married—I merely asked the desk clerk for the most romantic room he had, with a balcony (I need my outdoor space). Lucky for me, the actual honeymooners had cancelled at the last minute, so we were able to get this incredible room. As a bonus, after last night, I'm 99% certain that it's haunted. When the Large Greek announced his band was playing in New Orleans on Hallo-freaking-ween, my inner goth did the happy dance—picture Robert Smith doing a polka and you'll get the idea. Call me Yoko if you will, but I was tagging along. See, he and I have been in a bit of a rut lately. He couldn't come to Mexico with me over the summer, and I don't even remember the last time we went away before that. It seems as if all we do is work—me at home, him at the office—and the only time I see him is when we're about to go to sleep or first thing in the morning. Once in a while we go out to dinner, but he's been under the gun lately and working late, so we're not even doing that together anymore. Notice I didn't mention our sex life. That's because it's been nonexistent lately. I realize that after almost five years together frequency is bound to decline a tad, but the drought in our bedroom has me parched and irritable. So this vacation is really important, if only because an unlaid Judy is an extremely moody Judy, and everyone knows that vacation sex is pretty much the best kind of sex you can have. (If you disagree, please tell me what's hotter, because I honestly want to know.) So you see, Brian, I didn't just end my relationship because there was something lacking—I worked to fix it. And fix it we did. Several times, in fact. I don't think I always advise people to end their relationships when the going gets tough. Most problems are fixable, but some just aren't, and you don't generally write to an advice columnist unless you're fairly tortured. I mean, who's going to waste their time bitching that their girlfriend flosses incorrectly? Or that their husband is a little gassy? Generally, the people who write me already know they want to/need to exit their relationships. And some problems are just unsolvable. If you don't love the person you're married to, you should think about getting a divorce or breaking up. If either partner is abusive, leave. If your partner cheats—well, I know some people can weather that, but I don't think I could. I have a pair of friends who are in their late 80s and just marked their 60th wedding anniversary, which they would've celebrated except one of them was in the hospital. I once asked them separately what the key was to such a long-lasting, loving relationship. He gave me a long, thoughtful answer about the nature of love and how you have to be friends and partners above all else. After he had exited the room, I noticed she was pursing her lips like she had something to say. So I asked her what she felt was the most important element. Her answer: "Great sex." So if you'll excuse me, I need to go fix my relationship again. dategirl@seattleweekly.com

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