http://www.nypress.com/articles.sec-12-1-flavor-saver.html My friends always me ask what type of guys I like, as if I keep a list of personality traits and characteristics at the ready. You know, the sort of list on which phrases like tall, dark and handsome or good sense of humor typically appear.]]> I COULDN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING that had happened that night. It was the kind of night I hoped would never end, because the next morning would feel like a root canal with no anesthesia going on in my brain—which it did. I woke that morning with breath stronger than tear gas and a memory weaker than a hooker's morals. The only token I had to remind me that I did more last night than just pass out was the brand new Words With Friends game that popped up on my iPhone. For those of you who have not yet experienced the insurmountably nerdy joys of Words With Friends and are still unfamiliar with the concept, it's an iPhone app that allows you to play Scrabble with other "friends" on their respective iPhones.]]> Lets be honest: the only banging I was ever prepared to do was on the bathroom door when I was running late for work. I didnt know what doggy style was and, for all I knew, missionary style was a command George W. Bush was yelling into battle intercoms during the war on terrorism.]]> I started to type, when we I realized there was a problem: timing. How would we make our sexting simultaneous? I was getting close, and had no clue when she would finish. So, a few agonizing minutes later, she texted "OK"—and I finished.]]> My senior year of high school I found myself, in-between long bouts of doing nothing and hours spent trawling the Internet for new music, with a girlfriend named Melissa. She was an Ivybound overachiever with a clear sense of direction and a thing for singer-songwriter stuff. ]]> What better way to celebrate and enjoy a beautiful, sunny Fathers Day than to trek over to the Folsom Street East festival? The 15th annual event was held this past Sunday in the urban valley of West 28th Street, between 10th and 11th avenues, under the watchful eye of the newly opened section of the High Line park.]]> I didn't like giving head. To this day, I still don't really like the act, but I will never again try to liven it up the way I did that fateful night in College Town, Ohio. It was one of those thi]]> The YNNA is one of several youth groups around the nation that have sprung up in reaction to that trend, hoping to entice young people to get back into public nudity. I met the group's founder, Jordan Blum, at the door.]]> When I first moved from Philadelphia to New York City almost six years ago, I responded to many an ad seeking a roommate. When contacting potential roommates, I thought I was sending off emails that were slightly less casual than the cover letter for a resum%u9B80]]> It was a holiday weekend and all my friends were out of town, which left me in the city with nothing to do. Inevitably, I turned to Craigslist to cure my boredom. I intended to find some cheap and easy writing gigs, but then I stumbled across something much more elusive in the creative section.]]> In her recent book, Manning Up: How the Rise of Women Has Turned Men into Boys, author Kay Hymowitz offers an explanation as to why men in their twenties and early thirties fail to grow up. "The child-man… is the lost son of a host of economic and cultural changes: the demographic shift I call pre-adulthood, the Playboy philosophy, feminism, the wild west of our new media and a shrugging iffiness on the subject of husbands and fathers," she states. "He has no life script, no reason to grow up."]]> There was an animatronic fat woman singing "My Humps" at the front door of the Ripley's Believe It or Not! Museum in Times Square, so, I mean, I had to go in. The look on my face must have been somewhere between a 4-year-old watching someone spin cotton candy and adult-me watching eye surgery because, when Tom saw me, he said, "You want to go in."]]> A man softly whispered the word chocolate in my ear. I was innocently showering at the gym when the balding, middle-aged white guy took one look at my dark brown skin and mid-sized afro and then whispered: I love me some chocolate.]]> It seems there must be some correlation between me growing up with a mother who was a sex therapist and my masturbating in the ladies room at work. The exact connection, however, escapes me since I only did it once and doing so on the job was not something she would have recommended. Well, actually, I did it twice.]]> After my roommate told me about his latest late-night shenanigans—a new girl this time and something about a hockey jersey— he didn't bother asking if I'd had any adventures. He just looked at my bed and there it was: an imprint of one body in memory foam. The story of my night.]]> I wouldn't describe my mother as a sucker for love, but the dangerous mixture of a Jewish mother's matchmaking instincts and the year-long high she got off of planning my sister's recent wedding have proven too hard for her to overcome.]]> After three weeks of trying to get my attention, the mysterious, shirtless man in the adjoining apartment tower succeeded.]]> Fifty. It's a major landmark as far as birthdays go. Some people celebrate with large, catered parties. Some jump out of an airplane or scale a mountain peak. A day spent in solitary meditation at an ashram? It's been done. Round-theworld cruise? Check! I've known 50-yearolds who wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by their children and grandkids.]]> When my neighbors in apartment 2D moved out, I fantasized about the ruckus I could cause within my own humble, white-walled space on East 62nd Street now that my neighbors were gone. My 21-year-old Jewish self dreamed of shamelessly blasting Beyoncé's rendition of "Ave Maria" and watching Kim Kardashian argue with her sisters at full volume. I imagined scooping out Greek yogurt from the container and into my breakfast bowl, clanking the metal spoon against the rim to get every last bit without care for waking up the couple next door. Then I realized I couldn't, because although my neighbors moved out, my husband still lived with me. Little did I realize that empty space next door would bring passion back to my own pad.]]> I had my first date when I was 14. Jack and I went to the movies, and we held hands and something stirred within me.]]>