Why Did or Why Don’t: Return to Sender (a Poll & PSA)

By |June 4th, 2014|Why Did or Why Don't?|

bone freeIn the digital age, dating has taken a turn for the worse.  Things that seem as though they should make meeting a mate more manageable have just become downright scary.  Social media has made everyone so much more accessible and while it can be used for good like tracking down that “missed connection” from the L train, it seems as if men are overly stimulated by the bathing beauties and their bikini pics only inflating their egos to the point wherein they think they stand a chance with the 23 year old model from Johannesburg who spends her days squatting, not eating the food in her pictures, and taking selfies, therefore blowing off the perfectly lovely local ladies actually available to them.  Along with turning Facebook and Instagram into quasi dating sites, there has since been the inception of Tinder, which will require a dedicated tiger clad post in and of itself at a later date.  All of these brilliant advances in technology just so happen to be within finger’s reach for us thanks to our so called smartphones.  No need to flip open that archaic laptop, ew.  You are just a swipe away from millions of other people in the midst of ignoring their “real life” company to bask in the glow of their screens.

Texting has overtaken the phone call and do not even ask me when the last time I received a hand written anything other than birthday cards from my best friends and family was.  Seriously, don’t ask me because I do remember.  (Pro-tip: bonus points earned for voice on voice contact, but if you take the time to put pen to paper and mail it, I’m yours).  That said, a lot is left to be desired in modern day romance as much of what we are trying to express over text is totally lost in translation.  There is no expression, no context, and no way of being sure that your message was received- both literally and figuratively.  There is, however, one type of text message that needs no analyzation.  Its context and subtext is quite clear.

penis street artAs we lay in one of my best friend’s cozy bed watching “That Awkward Moment” (insert irony here) last Saturday night, I asked her if she had heard from a particular suitor and I guess his ears– but more likely loins– were burning because as if on cue, her phone lit up and there he was.  Instead of your run of the mill midnight “u out?” bro text message, this was something far more frightening.  It was the dreaded “dick pic.”

I should have video recorded the reaction.  Not only did she not want to open the photo from the preview, she handed it to us to do the dirty work.  There was a lot of nervous laughter, a little bit of uncomfortable squealing, followed by a game of hot potato with her iPhone.  And should I ever have the pleasure of meeting this guy, I’ll have a hard time keeping it together seeing as I’ve already met his penis.  The odd part in all of this (as if there is anything more odd than receiving a photo of a basic stranger’s genitals) is that she has not been on a date with him, has not even kissed him, and hadn’t even responded to any of his messages for the past two weeks.  Post deleting his message and blocking his phone number, we managed to sleep through the night sans phallic nightmares.

When I awoke Sunday to a frantic phone call from the same friend, I postponed my run along the Westside Highway to hear her out.  As it turns out, after having headed home and slipping into a sweet slumber, another Prince Charming snapped a shot of his cyclops and sent it her way.  Again, someone who she had not been responding to all evening.  Two dick pics in less than twelve hours?  That’s got to be some kind of record, no?

tinder picture

And maybe my friends and I are alone in this and you all can chock us up as prudes (though that would be fairly inaccurate), but I’m really wondering if AND WHO?! are the ladies out there requesting pictures of male packages leading modern day men to believe that all of us are interested in a salami slider sent straight to our cell phones.  I imagine that somewhere along the line, these guys were given the green light by some broad because they seem to think this is the ticket to ride.  It’s as if they had the thought process of, “Oh, she’s not responding to my messages?  I’ll just send her cock shot.  That’ll get the rooster crowing!”

Here’s the thing: Women just aren’t aroused by pictures of your penises.  It’s science and I can speak from personal experience.  I had an ex who loved to send me penis portraits that I had never commissioned.  And some would say that so long as you’re actually sleeping with the sender, a photograph of his nether regions doesn’t seem all that offensive.  However, he enjoyed sending photos of his ship without wind in its sails.  Not sexy.  Plus, I’ve already been acquainted with your personal kayak, so don’t fill up your camera roll with your scrotum selfies.  Save space for pictures of your niece or your lunch.  Basically, you’re more likely to get my panties in a bunch by sending a picture of a puppy or perhaps your face.  Although, I did recently receive an unsolicited  and shirtless “right before bedtime selfie” that was very Jersey Shore.  We are no longer dating.

So, to the fellas out there, please stop sending us pictures of the land down below because we don’t want our passports stamped and to the ladies… are you down with the D or is this the modern day equivalent of flashing?






Would You Wednesday: Picture Phone Peekaboo

By |June 1st, 2011|Why Did or Why Don't?|

As many of you have probably read, another young starlet has a “nude photo scandal.”  The lovely Blake Lively of Gossip Girl fame allegedly has some leaked naughty nude photos running rampant via the web.  Her reps were quick to deny they were Blake (shocker), but the resemblance is uncanny.

A couple of things: 1. If I was Blake, I’d claim that body.  Don’t care whose it is- Yowza! 2. If this is not, in fact, Blake, I trust that the fine folks over at Victoria’s Secret/Sports Illustrated, are on the hunt for the young lady who this bodacious bod belongs to.

Okay, so back to the real topic at hand.  When the hell are girls (especially those of the celebrity species) going to learn?  If you take naked pics and send them to your beau du jour, at some point in time an unintended audience will probably be fortunate enough to enjoy your nekkid body.  Now, (Dad- earmuffs), I have sent some racy photos to a significant other before… And while I do wish this fella was no longer in possession of said sexy photos, they weren’t something I’m morbidly ashamed of.  That said- I would NOT want the entire world to see them.  I take care of my body and would like to keep its splendor strictly reserved for my future hubs and my best gal pals (not modest, kids).  If I wanted the entire planet to see all my nooks and crannies, I’d just do a spread in Playboy.  At least I’d get paid…

So what do you think? Yay or nay to nudie photos?





Photos via The Superficial

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: 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…