Dategirl

Steady beau and I recently moved in together. During the whole moving-in process, I needed to find space for my crap. So what better thing to do than use the empty dresser in the spare bedroom, right? Wrong. When I opened it, I found porn tapes. (Okay, so his hiding place isn't that original.)

I also found emails between him and his ex. They were written well before he and I met, but they were all printed recently (two months before I moved in). I got annoyed when I found them, not because they were written but because he felt a need to print them out and save them. They're still in the dresser, even though I've asked him to burn them.

Did I mention that this was the woman he thought that he would propose to? Until she dumped his ass and decided to go for somebody else.

He also has women calling from Japan (where he used to live), and I'm the lucky person who's home to answer the calls (he works nights). When he is home, I hand him the phone and he never says, "I have a girlfriend, please stop calling."

Am I being irrational?

I'm not the kind of girl he thought he'd end up with. I'm not a small little woman who weighs 75 pounds soaking wet. I will never win a beauty pageant (unless maybe it's Miss Five-Six-and-a-Billion-Pounds-with-Horrible-Hair). I'm okay-looking. I won't stop traffic, and I'm sure at least one of the three nightly contestants on Jeopardy could kick my ass. But I dunno... I think I'm special, and not in a bicycle-helmet way either.

I'm probably blowing this out of proportion, but if he sees I'm upset, why is he so defensive?

I honestly believe he's the one for me, but I can't love somebody who feels the need to have reminders of ex-girlfriends around the house and who can't tell old flames that he's not accessible.

—Margo

Speaking as a woman who has photographs of almost every guy she's ever dated lurking about the apartment, I think you need to lighten up. In addition to photographic evidence, I've also kept letters, emails and gifts. (Just because he turned out to be a sociopath doesn't mean I'm giving up the KISS Fountain of Blood I got for Christmas.) Contrary to what you might believe, these souvenirs of relationships past are not indicative of pining on my part. They're just a part of my history, and sometimes I like to take a stroll down memory lane. Well, that and the nudie Polaroid of my alkie ex with the abnormally large scrotum, wearing only a drunken grin and a black feather boa, is always good for scaring my girlfriends.

So no, you're not within your rights demanding that he burn all correspondence from the exes. (And what up with the pyrotechnics, Drama Queen? Wouldn't the trashcan do the trick?)

This doesn't mean he should continue to be insensitive though. Let me tell you something about men: They're retarded. You think that telling him this crap bothers you is an effective way to communicate your needs, wants, etc. He doesn't see things this way at all. Instead of pondering why this might bother you, he sees your request as the cold clammy hand of death wrapping itself around his independence. The more you insist, the more he'll resist. In his mind he's not throwing out old emails from some skag he used to bang—he's staring down castration.

You must learn finesse. If he's not telling these chicks that you're his girlfriend—do it yourself. You're answering the phone anyway. Be pleasant when you pick up the phone, say hi, and introduce yourself. There's no reason that a man can't have female friends—most of my friends are guys, and I have no intention of banging any of them.

The biggest problem is that you aren't secure in this relationship. You feel unattractive, and it sounds like he's doing nothing to reassure you otherwise. If you felt like he really loved you and thought you were beautiful, I doubt this would be freaking you out so much. So instead of focusing on ex-drek, I suggest you look at the real problem.

Hey girl! I love the column and all but I must ask...gnarled 'n' steeenky footsies? U r exagerrmerating yes? Now, yes I do like woman's feet as much as the next guy, c'mon now don't all men have a thang for feet? Some just more extreme than others, I reckon. I would never write in to your column asking to smell your feet—I'd have to see 'em first of course hee hee hee—but I am just curious… Are yo tootsies "DA BOMB" or really some stanky ass feet?

—Shem

The other day I ran into my hairdresser on the street, and she implored me to quit writing about toe-sucking because it was starting to make her a little ill (she reads my column over lunch). So this will be the last letter—at least for a while—that talks about tootsies. I wasn't sure how to answer your question, so I phoned my new special naked friend and woke his ass up.

"Are my feet ugly?"

"Whut?"

"You heard me, are my feet really gross?"

"Do you want me to say they're really gross?" (Wise answer, especially coming from a half-asleep man.)

"No, I want you to tell me the truth!"

"You've got nice feet. You paint your nails and shit. I really haven't thought about it. Why?"

"Never mind, thanks!"

Hope that clears things up for you, Shem. o