Barking Up the Wrong Tree

By |June 2nd, 2010|Why Did You Date Him?|

DSC07386 Barking up the wrong tree 520

The other day I had a pretty hilarious, yet disturbing conversation with a guy pal of mine.  He has a long term girlfriend who he seems to care about, but he does have a bit of a “roving eye” to put it lightly. He mentioned that his gf is always halfway to a meltdown. I can’t say I blame her. Love him, but I’m pretty glad he’s not my boyfriend.

Basically, the conversation was in regards to her concern about a close girl friend (as in platonic friendship) that he has. His girlfriend is convinced that he’s sleeping with this friend. He joked that she was “barking up the wrong tree” because he is not in any way involved with his friend in a sexual manner, but he does have eyes for someone else. His girlfriend seems to have forgotten one of the cardinal rules: “It’s NEVER who you think it is.”

I’ve been in this position and I remember an older and wiser friend saying that very phrase to me.  I was convinced my ex was sleeping with one of his girl friends and I would obsess over it and drive him nuts about it (until I met her in person and realized she was no threat). Meanwhile, he definitely was sewing his oats in different pastures… just not the ones I suspected. 

This raises a couple of red flags for me. One being, that a woman’s intuition is nothing to be taken lightly. He’s not sleeping with his friend, but there is obviously a reason why you are even worried about such a thing. Look deeper into why it is that you don’t trust your boyfriend.  Former mistress, Sarah Symonds, summed it up best by saying that if you feel like something is going on, you’re probably right.

I basically try and live by that little mantra. If something in my gut doesn’t feel right, I no longer ignore it. It’s only a matter of time before the truth rears its ugly head. So rather than drive yourself insane (incidentally driving your boyfriend insane), why not listen to that little voice. I’m willing to bet it’ll never lead you astray.



Why Did You Date Him: Heartbreak, Party of One.

By |May 26th, 2010|Why Did You Date Him?|


We’ve all suffered through at least one brutal breakup in our young lives. You know the type.  Your world has just ended and your heart was ripped out and is currently laying in the middle of the street being run over repeatedly by speeding taxi cabs.  Yeah, that’s the one. Sadly, that is probably not the last heartbreak you will suffer on the road to true love, so I am about to give you the best possible break up advice I can offer from my own personal experience. Pay close attention, little ones.

I’d say I’ve had two breakups that were really, truly heartbreaking.  One was my first “love” and I literally thought I was going to curl up in the corner and die during that tumultuous time. The second was my most recent breakup and it was a long and painful time coming. One was a much more sweet and innocent love and the other was a more “grown up” adult relationship (we shared an apartment together and talk of nuptials had been breached). While my first heartbreak literally lingered on for years (yes, multiple), the second I only felt for a couple months. You’re wondering how on earth that is possible. Was it because I didn’t love one as much as the other?

Both situations were very different but, I don’t feel that the type of love I felt or the actual cause of breakup were what made the difference in how I recovered. What made the difference was how I reacted. In heartbreak number one, I allowed the back and forth and the “maybe we will get back together” business go on for far too long and that’s how I ended up still wounded a year later. Heartbreak number two was much, much different. It took some (very) tough love from some close friends, but I like to call it “Heartbreak Bootcamp.”


People will argue that because my ex “did” something so terrible that it must have been easier to walk away. I agree to some extent because to me, I couldn’t have possibly stayed in that situation (though many people would have).  However, rejection is rejection. However  you’d like to serve it up, you were still dissed. Whether he cheated, told you you weren’t the one, lied, or just was an overall letdown, you’ve been kicked to the curb and it’s time to get to steppin’.  At the end of the day, who wants (let alone deserves) to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with them? Nobody.

That’s the first and most important step. Checking your ego. Stop holding on because you think you can “change” him or because you’re embarrassed. Nobody cares. The only thing that’s embarrassing is holding on to someone who doesn’t want to be held onto.

  • So let’s get down to business. You found some “sext messages” from a raunchy skank in your man’s phone. Awesome. Obviously, this is unacceptable. It’s time to get the eff out. (Trust me, things aren’t going to get better). Gather your things (ALL of them) and leave. There is no use leaving anything behind because you’re never going to see him again. No, we are not going to call him in a few weeks and ask if we can swing by to pick up that DVD we “accidentally” left behind. Go buy a new one.
  • Upon arrival home, call your cell phone provider immediately. Guess what they can do? Oh, block his number. This will limit him from contacting you (even via text) and, even better, you won’t be able to contact him (no drunk dials or weepy texts during a moment of weakness). What could you possibly have left to say to each other anyway? Honestly, it’s better not to know what he has to say. Even if you never respond, it will stir up emotions every time your little phone vibrates.
  • Next, it’s time to log into your email. God bless technology, you can now create filters so that those pesky little emails will be sent directly to the “trash” or “spam” folders. You will NEVER have to see them and your Blackberry won’t buzz unnecessarily, therefore conserving battery power. Win, win.
  • Take the pictures down. Get them out of the frames. You don’t need to burn them or do some creepy voodoo ritual. Just pack them away somewhere so you don’t have any reminders. Someday you will look back on them as fond memories, but for now, put them away.
  • Here’s the hardest part: don’t talk about him. You’re going to want to go on and on and on and… about him, but that’s not going to help and it’s definitely not going to change anything. You can sit and obsess as much as you’d like, but it is what it is and no matter how many different ways you play it out in your head, you know the truth. Besides, your girlfriends can only take so much. You lost your bf, you don’t wanna lose them too!


This probably sounds incredibly cold and maybe it is, but I promise that by following these steps, you’ll be moving on in no time. It’s like pulling a band-aid off quickly rather than centimeter by centimeter or jumping into a cold pool head first rather than dipping your toes in. Break ups are hard and they always suck, but the only person in charge of your feelings is you. Perhaps someday you will be able to be friends, but right now, distance is key. It is very difficult to gain perspective while in the midst of it. Besides, while you’re pouting over Mr. Loserface, Mr. Perfect may very well be passing you by. Why waste your time with something that doesn’t fit? You wouldn’t dare wear an ill fitting dress in public, so why do so with your heart?



Why Did You Date Him: Kicking and Screaming

By |May 19th, 2010|Why Did You Date Him?|


My first temper tantrum was over a pair of red patent leather Buster Brown maryjanes when I was two years old (or so my mother tells me).  Since then, I’ve thrown a few more tantrums over footwear, but I would say that most of my recent tantrums have been love related. While some are warranted (he forgot your anniversary) others tend to be more trivial (you wanted a grilled cheese and tomato soup at 2am and The Diner just was not delivering). Either way, I was always under the impression that tantrums were very gender specific. Boy was I wrong…

One night while out with a fellow I’d been seeing for a few months, he did something I had never actually experienced. HE threw a bitch fit. Yes, my friends, a full blown temper tantrum- public scene and all. Because I was being social and talking to his friends, dancing, and enjoying myself he told me I was acting totally inappropriately- prompting the whole “trust” talk. I don’t think his intention was to make me laugh, but I found the entire thing completely comical. I thought to myself, “Why is he being such a girl?”

This got me to thinking, is that how we look like while flipping out on our boy toys? Are they just sitting back and chuckling while we have a melt down? Laughing at how ridiculous we are acting? Probably. Actually, yes. I managed to smooth his feathers and we left on good terms, but you better believe I took great pleasure in reminding him the next day how he’d acted like a total lunatic.

It struck me that we were in a complete and utter gender role reversal and it was intriguing.


Always a model girlfriend, no one’s ever told me they didn’t trust me. I pride myself on being incredibly loyal and honest so it came as quite a shock when this gentleman informed me that he just did not trust me. I really wasn’t doing anything wrong seeing as we were not in an exclusive relationship.  Except that’s a total lie.

He had every reason not to trust me. I was participating in the very same male behavior that we, as woman, find so repulsive. I was being wishy washy, not willing to commit to anything serious, skirting the issue about other guys, being totally elusive, and there may or may not have been another man waiting in the wings. I wasn’t doing it out of malice, it was just the way things unfolded. In my head I had been very up front with him about what was going on, but I guess he didn’t see it that way.

It got to the point where his friend went as far as calling me “a dick” to which my friends (and I) had a good laugh. He eventually got sick of my antics and iced me out, just like a good “girl” should.


As I was putting this poor chap through the ringer, for being a loon, I had been throwing some tantrums of my own. Said “man in the wings” had pulled the same wishy washy, elusive stunts on me. Oh, that karma, she’s got a sick sense of humor, doesn’t she? After not getting my way on more than one occasion, I unleashed a text message tirade on the object of my affection. Poor guy. I bet he dropped his phone like a hot potato when those messages came through. He too forgave me for my outlandish behavior, but things between us were never quite the same.

Here I was, having the exact same relationship with two different people and I was both the “antagonist” as well as the “victim.” Playing two different roles shed a whole new light on relationships as well as good old fashioned temper tantrums. Basically I concluded three things:

  1. When you throw a tantrum, you’re giving up all of your power. You may as well just hand over  your cards. You look like a fool. Game over. Save the meltdown for your girlfriends behind closed doors.
  2. That whole “do unto others” saying? Yeah, I’d probably pay heed to this. You never know when karma will rear her ugly head.
  3. Your reindeer games will only last for so long. Eventually, someone will throw in the towel when they’ve had enough.

Whether or not anyone else appreciates my diva worthy tantrums, my mom apparently found them charming. She hangs those little red shoes on the Christmas tree every year to this day.



P.S. if he’s reading this, I’m expecting another tantrum in 5, 4, 3, 2…

Why Did You Date Him: Text in the City

By |May 11th, 2010|Why Did You Date Him?|

2177056408_3287c71670Things have changed since Granny was going out on dates.  While we think some of her dating advice is brilliant (a good man’s worth waiting for, why buy the cow when the milk’s free?, if you run, he’ll follow. if you follow, he’ll run), Nana doesn’t have a clue as to what we are up against in the age of the internet. Between social networking and cell phones…. we’ve got our work cut out for us.

I’m the first to admit that one of the first things I do when I meet someone new… is Google. Granted, I Google everything because I don’t like to not know the answer, but Googling love interests can be treacherous (curiosity did kill the cat, my friends). Once you’ve clicked “search” you’re bombarded with Linked In, Facebook, Friendster (WHO still uses that), Myspace (WHO still uses that), Twitter, photos, or perhaps, nothing. I can’t decide how I feel about finding “nothing” but in my experience, the more “Googleable” (made that up) a person is, the more heartache that can potentially ensue.

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We all know Twitter was responsible for putting the final nail in the coffin of my last relationship and from time to time Twitter eff’s with my current situations. It really is a blessing and a curse. I mean, when you broadcast your whereabouts on the internet… Not to mention that people can now “@” you without permission… Someone’s bound to catch you in a lie. You call it stalking, I call it resourcefulness. Tomato, tomato.


I know people who have literally canceled dates after checking out their prospective suitor’s Facebook page.  One too many photos at Bagatelle brunch with a magnum of rose turned me off from a gentleman who requested the pleasure of my company. No, thank you! You are now able to get a peak into people’s lives before you’ve even shared an appetizer.  I know what your mom looks like, where you last went on vacation, and don’t worry, I’ve scouted out your ex before we’ve even checked our coats. So really, what is there left to talk about? Wanna make out?

Shit storms have started between couples who are both on Facebook. “Who the hell did is Samantha Brown?” “WTF is Tommy doing writing on your wall?” I no longer want to be Facebook friends with boys I’m dating. Why don’t you go ahead and not worry about what I’m doing and I’ll do the same. It’s unnecessary drama added with really no upside.


Texting has become a skill to be honed at this point. Are you reading the subtext of the text? I’ve received texts that I needed Cliffs Notes to decipher. When I re-read them later (because we all like to go back and overanalyze) I realized that I was having a completely different conversation than my counterpart. I thought we were talking about dancing. He thought we were talking pants off dance off. Woops. Obviously, I need to pick up a copy of Flirtexting STAT. This also leads to all the questions of when to text back, should you text back, NEVER double text. It’s virtually impossible to have a real conversation via text message. I can’t tell you the number of times things have been totally misconstrued over text. Obviously, my sense of humor is not conveyed well digitally.


Um, and shall I even proceed into BBM territory? Good word, those damn D’s and R’s are out to ruin my life. I actually try NOT to give out my PIN to guys I just start seeing because I really just can’t deal with the politics that are Blackberry Messenger. Yes, I “read” your message. No, I have no response. I can’t deal with the blinking red light forcing me to check all BBM’s (OCD much?) and therefore, forcing me to respond. Perhaps this is a strong argument for making the iPhone switch.

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Wanna delve into FourSquare? Now you can alert the world as to where you are at every waking moment of your life. My apartment building is a check in point. That in and of itself is creepy. I’m not sure I need everyone to know where I am at all times… Why not implant yourself with a GPS? Might as well. Now you can “just happen” to show up where your crush is. What a coincidence!

While sitting at the pool at Soho House (berating the man next to me for having an iPad), he informed me of a new iPhone app that will allow all single people to identify all the other single people in the room. Looks like I better invest in a fake wedding ring ASAP.

I think I’d like to revert back to hand written notes (send me an E-card, I dare you) and telephone calls. Maybe there truly is such a thing as TMI.

P.S. since we are stuck with technology, you should probably follow WhyDid on Twitter, and join our Facebook page. If you can’t beat ’em…



Why Did You Date Him: Come One, Come All

By |April 28th, 2010|Somethin for the fellas, Why Did You Date Him?|

** Warning: R rated material. Dad, you probably wanna go ahead and skip this one.


So, I’ve had full on arguments about this before. Guys are apparently clueless when it comes to the female anatomy and the big O. I’ve been so annoyed that I’ve literally had to hang up the phone or leave the room. Guys sure do have a lot of nerve thinking they know more about what’s going on with our equipment than we do.

What’s the problem you ask? It seems that most guys out there think that we ladies are coming left and right when having sex. Au contraire mon frere. Just because we make a squeak or a sigh here and there does not mean that you’ve just hit our jackpot. If you did, trust me, you’d know. Don’t believe me? (of course you don’t). Here are the facts:

About 75 percent of all women never reach orgasm from intercourse alone — that is without the extra help of sex toys, hands or tongue. And 10 to 15 percent never climax under any circumstances. – ABC News

Read it and weep, fellas. Just intercourse alone isn’t going to do the trick for most ladies. We need a little extra attention in our nether regions to get things going. And don’t you DARE look at us like it’s our fault when the fountain doesn’t overflow. I’ve had a guy legitimately ask me if I’m just not capable like I’m the one with the problem. This proves to be very frustrating for women. We don’t want to disappoint you, but at the same time, we don’t want to be disappointed either. It’s a team effort, folks. The sooner guys come to terms with this, the sooner we’ll all be satisfied customers.


I have a couple of girlfriends who are in that freaky percentage of women who can get off from good ol’ fashion sex (lucky bitches), but as for the rest, they’ve either had to incorporate some helpful toys or become incredibly vocal about what exactly is or isn’t working.

That being said, I’ve met plenty of guys who are under the impression that ALL of the girls they’ve been with have been screaming their praises. Guess what all those girls were? Liars. Big. Fat. Liars. Hey, girls? Why are you faking it? You gals are totes effing things up for the rest of us. Now, Mr. Hotshot thinks he knows what he’s doing and I’m suffering through some wonktastic jackrabbit sex…Again. Ugh.

I’m hoping this will clear the air while simultaneously deflating a few egos leading us all to a much more fulfilling sex life. For the time being, I’m probs just better off with my pal, rabbit.

Happy Hump Day!