Thursday, August 2, 2018

My Inner Voice is Dumb


This past Monday I had coffee with a friend I haven’t seen since I was married.  In fact, the last time I saw her was when we were hanging out with my ex-husband.  Since I haven’t been married to him for almost four years now, that’s kindof saying something.

I didn’t really know what to expect.  I wasn’t sure if we would talk about my ex, or if we even should.  What, exactly, was the protocol here?  Were we supposed to pretend he didn’t exist, or directly acknowledge the elephant in the room and invite it to join us for coffee?  

I haven’t done the rather awkward “first conversation” in a while.  In about four years.

So I felt that familiar resurgence of shame and guilt, and thereby resorted to my familiar throwaway line of “I’m a terrible person.” I said it often four years ago, and several times in the years since when discussing my divorce.  After all, I’d rather be the one to say it than to hear the same words from a friend.  Self-flagellation is a strange form of self-defense.  It hurts less to berate ourselves.  We’re used to the negative attitude.  We hear similar phrases all the time from our inner destructive demons, so often that we come to expect nothing less from ourselves.

“You’re a terrible person.”
“You’re not a good artist.”
“You suck at writing.”
“You’re bad in bed.”
“You’re boring.”
“Your laugh is dumb.”
“Why can’t you do anything right?”
“Why are you like this?"
“No one really likes you.”
 
I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard these things countless times.  And all of these horribly mean things came from only one person: myself.  

Well, from those dumb inner demons, at least.

No one has ever told me actually told me any of those things.  (Actually, my ex-husband had a few colorful variations on that first one, but that comes with the territory.)

And my friend, when I used my preferred emotional self-defense tactic for the second time, exclaimed: “Stop saying that!”

She’s right.  I should stop saying it.  I should stop saying all of those terrible things to myself.  

You should stop saying them too.  I hear you out there telling others how you’re not enough, how you’re less than you should be.  I see the self-deprecating Facebook posts.  And I want to channel my friend’s exclamation and scream “Stop saying that!”

Words have incredible power, no matter what the old rhyme says, and they have even more power when the words originate from inside ourselves. Others may have the ability to wear our self-worth down over time, though we do at least usually start out with a sense of indignation when someone else tries to put us down.  But when our own inner voice tells us that we suck?  We tend to roll over in submission and agree with no argument whatsoever.  Yes, Dumb Inner Demon, you’re right, I AM a terrible person.  I AM fat.  I AM ugly.  I SHOULD stop doing something I love, because I’m no good at it.

And I have just one thing to say: to you, to myself, to my Dumb Inner Demon.

STOP. 
SAYING. 
THAT.

Can you even imagine the freedom you would feel if you could mute that horrible inner voice, if you could just enjoy your life, your hobbies, your own body?  

This is not to say that critique and improvement should be dismissed.  But they shouldn’t be all-important, or all-consuming.  None of us are perfect, all of us are learning and changing and constantly making mistakes.  Be compassionate towards each other.

But, above all, be compassionate to yourself.  Stop being your own worst critic and start being your own cheerleader.

I’m not a terrible person.  I’m a person, who made (and continually makes) mistakes.

I’m not a terrible person.  It’s physically hard to type that and not hit the “delete” key until it all goes away again.  I’m so used to saying it, as a joke, as an excuse, as self-defense.

I’m not a terrible person.

Neither are you.  Make sure you tell yourself that. 

Friday, July 27, 2018

World Enough and... Wait, Scratch That



Quite frankly, I think it's time to do the Time Warp again.  (Quite frankly.  Get it?  Get it?)

Anyway.

I’m currently struggling with the near-constant feeling of not having enough time.  Does anyone else have this problem?  For example:
  • I don’t have enough time to spend in bed in the morning.
  • I don’t have time to work out in the morning (or the evening).
  • I don’t have enough time to sew in the morning before work.
  • I don’t have enough time at work (it’s slower right now, so this one isn’t as bad as usual).
  • I don’t have enough time to go home and make dinner.
  • I don’t have enough time with my husband.
  • I don’t have enough time to work on all the projects I’m working on, or want to work on.
  • I don’t have enough time to clean our house.
  • I don’t have enough time to hang out with my friends.
  • I don’t have enough time to write, or blog, or read.
  • I don’t have enough time in the evening before it’s time for bed.
  • I don’t have enough time to sleep.
I can’t guarantee that this is all necessarily true.  But I can guarantee that it’s exactly how I feel.  And I can say for a fact that I’ve begun to feel a sudden wave of dread anytime someone asks me for more of my time.  (It's an Introvert Thing.)
  • My mom wants me to come over and go through old photos or (Insert Family Activity Here).  Dread.
  • My friends plan an outing or event. Dread (followed by wanting to go, followed by dread, followed by wanting to go, followed by...).
  • I get scheduled for an event at work.  Dread.
  • Mark asks if I have ideas for dinner.  Dread (followed by an irrational desire for Mexican food).
  • *I* want to go to a show, or a movie, or to an event, or on a trip. Dread.
It’s getting a little out of hand.  And it doesn’t help that I recently started sewing, acquired a huge collection of patterns and fabric, and now want to do nothing but stay home and make myself a brand new wardrobe.

But even putting my newest hobby aside, the dread and feeling of never having any time still hovers ominously over me.  I’ve taken to watching the hours spin recklessly by at night, or on the weekends, counting down until it’s time to go to bed, or time to go to work.  Where did the time go, I think?  I just got home.  We just finished eating.  We just cleaned up dishes.  How can it be so late?  Why can’t I have more time?

Not coincidentally, I think, I’ve also been feeling more anxious lately.  I irrationally think something bad is going to happen.  I’m having trouble going to sleep because my mind suddenly starts up a litany of worries against the backdrop of whatever song is currently stuck in my head (unfortunately, it's usually "Everything is Awful" by the Decemberists).  And I’ve been waking in the middle of the night for no reason, then convincing myself that the reason I woke up is that I heard something.


Basically, I’m getting to be a bit of a mess.  And, because of all the above-mentioned bullshit, I’m not enjoying my life as much as I’m accustomed to.  Which is pretty much everything I’m against.

Since my separation and divorce from my first husband, I’ve pretty much pledged to enjoy my life and not wallow in self-pity.  And being stressed out and anxious and always upset that I don’t have more time is a bit wallow-y and really isn’t very enjoyable.  Believe me.

But what to do about it?

I can’t take a week, or a month, or half a year off work to try to “catch up.”  Besides, I don’t actually think catching up is humanly possible.  Even if I miraculously finished all the things on my To Do list, there will always be something else to do.  Hell, even if I achieve my dream of one day becoming a stay at home dog mom (which would also require us getting a dog), there would never be a lack of things to do.  And there would never be more hours available to do those things.  If I had but world enough and time for all the things I want to do, let's face it... I'd just find more things I'd want to do.  (This is also why I don't understand people who get bored when they retire.)

Also?  I can't go back in time.  If I could, then Current Me could go and wake up Past Me so that she would be a more productive member of society and Current Me would then feel better about her life.  There is just the very minor problem that I have thus far not been able to time travel.  At least, not until I find a Doctor or a DeLorean.


So that seems to point to the fact that the actual problem is, well... me.  Or, at the very least, my mindset is the problem.  For starters, it’s incredibly negative.  

I don’t like being negative.  

I am, however, remarkably good at being negative.  It’s not the best combination.

And really, being negative about my own life is the opposite of productive.  By constantly feeling that sense of “never enough,” by bemoaning what I feel I don’t have, I’m creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of discontentment and frustration.  I’m shooting myself in the foot, setting myself up for failure, etc, etc, etc.  

I do have enough time.  I have the same amount of time everyone has.  But maybe, just maaaaybe, I don’t always make the best use of it.  I do, I admit, have a significant number of bad habits I’ve fallen into lately.
  • I look at my phone too much.
  • I stay in bed too long.
  • I waste time instead of being creative and productive.
  • I focus on what I’m not getting done instead of all the things I have actually gotten accomplished.
  • I make excuses
And, finally...
  • I have an overall negative attitude that’s honestly getting annoying to myself.
So Ashley, I tell myself.  Cut it out.  Bring back that girl who’s happy and positive and kick out this negative bitch who complains all the time.  Who needs her?

Right? 

There’s only one problem (and here’s your spoiler alert, so watch out): they’re both the same girl.

That being the case, it’s probably best I settle for a compromise: a happy bitch who complains only occasionally.  I think that’s a reasonable goal, don’t you?  She sounds like most of my friends.

In the meantime, I’m trying to figure out how to better manage my time (and mindset).  All suggestions welcome.  

(Complaints and bitching are also welcome, because really, no one likes someone who’s too damn happy all the damn time.  See above comment about most of my friends.)

Thursday, June 28, 2018

The Great Emoji Birthday Party


About a month ago, I threw my very first children’s birthday party for my stepdaughter! We kindof had a party last year, in that we invited over our families at the very last minute, I cooked dinner, and her grandmother brought over a cake.  We were still moving into our new house (well, we still are moving into our new house, but it’s a bit more presentable now) and had already pulled off the world’s most inexpensive wedding.  I hadn’t had time to devote to planning an actual party.  

But I vowed that this year would be different.  


(And it was.)


I grew up as a child who always, always had a themed birthday party.  (I still have themed birthday parties, and they’re awesome, shut up.)  So I’m a firm believer that kids should have parties, and they should have themes.  Really, I just love themes.  (I blame the birthday parties.)


Kaylee has been on a slight emoji kick for the past year or so (she's pretty much claimed one half of my Femme de Bloom emoji collar clips), so I’d been working toward the idea of making her party emoji themed.  Hell, I like emojis too. (The heart eyes emoji is my spirit animal.)  The Emoji Movie was actually even than I expected.  So I started a board on my mostly-dead Pinterest dedicated to party ideas and kept my eyes peeled for emoji gifts/decorations/etc.

Then, of course, the weeks leading up to her birthday weekend coincided with my busiest weeks at work (thanks, wedding season), so I ended up not having quite as much time as I intended to go completely overboard on the themed decorations/presents/food.  

So... I only went slightly overboard. 


I picked up a bunch of emoji plates/napkins/gift bags itmes from Walmart (where I also possibly went a little overboard on gifts, but nevermind that).  I also made this cute emoji pillow from a free pattern on Ravelry, and finished it just in time for the big day! It's now joined forces with the growing legion of stuffed animals and handmade pillows on her bed.

In properly keeping with the theme, I limited the snacks to food that there are emojis for.  I don’t think anyone actually noticed this, but it pleased my internal control freak and that’s all that really matters here.  Therefore, we had pizza, chocolate chip cookies made by the birthday girl and Mark, watermelon, grapes, and strawberries.

I also made (with Kaylee's help) an emoji cake and poop emoji cupcakes!  She helped frost the face and put the eyes on the cupcakes.  She gave me a high five and declared that I had “nailed it” which pretty impressive coming from a “Nailed It!” connoisseur.


For the cake, I used this yellow cake recipe, with a basic buttercream frosting.  I scooped out two tiny bits of frosting to color for the eyes and mouth, and colored the rest as bright of a yellow as I could manage.


Pro-tip: lightly draw on the outline of the shapes you're going for before piping on the icing.  It definitely helps minimize error (unless you have a newly-seven-year-old helping you, in which case Godspeed).

For the poop emoji cupcakes, I used my go-to chocolate cake recipe that’s on the back of the Hershey's Cocoa canister.  It’s my absolute favorite, as it’s super easy and always tastes moist and delicious.  I also used this chocolate buttercream frosting, and K stuck on some edible eyeballs.  To quote my mother-in-law, “I thought they were really cute until I realized what they were.”)


In addition, I took her to Party City and let her pick out her own balloons, so I’ll just be waiting over here for my Stepmom of the Year award.


Ultimately, if you can’t be spoiled on your birthday, when can you be?


Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Winter Survival Mode: Activated

It's winter (obviously).

In my (not at all) humble opinion, the best thing to do in the winter is stay home.  There's so much to do there!  There are books to be read.  There is food to be eaten.  There are television shows to be binged (we're currently re-watching Doctor Who).  There are projects to be knit (or crocheted, or cross-stitched).  There's a husband to snuggle.  And there's a lot of cleaning and organizing to do, when I can find the time and energy between all that reading and eating and snuggling.

Winter is not exactly my favorite time of year.  I prefer warm springs and mild summers, when I can wear cute little sundresses and short skirts and heels as often as I want and not, well, freeze.  I prefer when it doesn't look like midnight at five o'clock.

But, I live in the Midwest with no intentions of leaving, so I get to continue to experience the full breadth of all four seasons, including this incredibly cold winter.

My survival tactics have changed a bit over the years.  Winter Ashley used to look a lot different than she does now, and she was a lot less happy in the winters.  I didn't wear a lot of bright colors.  Instead. I wore a lot of leggings, T-shirts, and cardigans, which is a pretty far cry from my winter style these days.

The problem was that I've never been a huge fan of sweaters, since they tend to make me feel a bit stifled.  Really, I don't like bulky long-sleeved tops in general, which is unfortunately the Merriam-Webster definition for "sweater."

Now? There are remarkably more sweaters (since I've learned to be properly picky when shopping so that I will actually wear a sweater), more tights, more boots, more knee-high socks, and more layers.  There's a lot of colors.  And hats.

I love hats.
And while I proclaimed the virtues of staying home during the winter, I also recognize that isn't always feasible.  You might have a party to go to.  You might have to trek to the store for vital necessities (eggs, bread, and milk for French toast).  Your boss might unreasonably insist that he's not going to pay you to stay at home and knit. (How unfair!)  You might actually want to go outside in the cold and... enjoy yourself.

In that case, it's important to have the perfect winter coat (or two... or twenty).  If I have to cover up my outfit, it's going to be with a great - and preferably coordinating - coat.  I have a slight vintage coat addiction, so I have a wide variety to choose from, but the key things to remember are comfort, warmth, and, yes style.  Do you like how you look in your coat?  Great!  That's one step towards making winter less awful.

I need to dig out this coat.  It's my favorite.
Winter isn't exactly the worst thing in the world, I suppose.  It has it's magical moments, like the first snow.  And the first snowman.  It has my birthday.  It has Christmas and hot chocolate and comfort food and sneaking your cold feet under your husband's legs.  There's ice skating (especially if you're more graceful than me), and fireplaces, and layers upon layers of warm blankets to burrow under.



Winter weather also provides an introvert with endless excuses to stay inside and catch up on her reading.

Winter may be long, but it's not interminable.  Or unsurvivable.  You just have to know how.  And it's different for everyone.

For me, surviving winter is about continuing to dress like myself, continuing to wear color, and not letting myself stay inside too long.  It's about finding the little things that are still enjoyable, even in the bleak midwinter.  It's about not letting the cold and damp stop me from my regular lifestyle.

It's also about how much I'm looking forward to going home and watching Doctor Who.

Friday, January 5, 2018

#Obsessed

In my post earlier this week, I mentioned that I was making a few changes to the way I blog.  One change is that I'm going to be posting twice a week (generally Tuesdays and Fridays).  The second change is that I'm going to post on more specific and regular monthly topics.

My second post of the month is going to be an easy one: things I'm obsessed with.

First off, I'm obsessed with my new phone.  I've been clinging to my iPhone 5s for nearly 4 years because I didn't want to deal with the cost of a new smartphone.  That phone and I went through a lot together.  It was my first big "commitment" with Mark.  It went for a swim a couple of times.  I dropped it (a lot).  I even replaced the battery recently just to try to keep it workable.

The final straw came late last week when I discovered that the camera lens was cracked (probably from me dropping it). 

So, on Saturday, we ventured to Best Buy to see what I could replace it with.  I'd pretty much decided that I was done with iPhones, and was debating between a Pixel 2 and a Galaxy s8, based on a lot of trusted recommendations.  Honestly, my main qualifications were: nothing too big, plenty of storage space, a decent price, and (most importantly) a good camera.

As it happened, there was an amazing deal on the Pixel 2, so we both decided to take the plunge.

And?  I love it, even with the learning curve that comes from being a long-term Apple user.  It didn't come pre-loaded with a bunch of apps I have no interest in.  It's not overly complicated.  It's not too big.  Mainly, though, I love the camera.  It's something I used a lot, even on my crappy ancient iPhone.  So I wanted something really good, and honestly?  I'm not about to apologize for it.

I'm also obsessed with this cardigan (from Target), which makes me 150% extra when I wear it.
On a completely different note, I'm also obsessed with my new Erstwilder pins.  Mark's parents got them for me for Christmas and they are absolutely perfect.  Mark told them I'd like Spiffy the Sausage Dog (which I absolutely do), but his mom thought I'd like the whale as well, since she'd seen me "wear stuff with whales on it." (Wesley Whale is now sold out as well.)


My very first pin/brooch purchase (a little over a year ago) was from Erstwilder, and I continue to grab the occasional must-have brooch from their continuing releases.  They have some of the cutest high-quality resin brooches around, and I never fail to want at least three (or four... or five) when they announce a new collection.  They're always quirky and delightfully kitschy (in all the right ways).  Obviously, I'm a bit of an addict, and am fairly pleased with myself for having several sold-out or discontinued styles.



The final thing that I'm currently obsessed with is my absolute favorite pair of boots ever.

Ever.
I bought these on an impulse (and on sale) at Target last season.  I tried them on, looked at Mark, and doubtfully asked, "Do you think I'll actually wear these?"  They weren't quite my style, really.  They weren't heels.  They weren't "vintage."  They weren't that girly.  But, I liked them.  I just wasn't sure I liked them, and wasn't sure how well they would work with my outfits.

Spoiler alert: I wear them all the time.  They are ridiculously comfortable and surprisingly versatile.  I pair them with both pants and cute skirts, effectively lengthening skirt season well into this ridiculously cold winter.  I wore them all through the fall and winter last year and constantly bemoaned the fact that I didn't have them in black.  (Ask Mark how many times he heard me whine that I wished I had black boots.  It was a lot.)

Never fear, this story has a happy ending!  We'll fast forward to the beginning of this fall, when I was walking through Target and spotted them: The Boots, in black.  I bought them instantly.  (And I'm wearing them today.  No regrets.)

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

New Year, New Blog: or, I'm Not Dead Yet!

So.... I bet you thought this blog was dead, didn't you?

I totally fooled you, didn't I?

Didn't I?

Actually... you were partly right.  It was mostly dead.  In hibernation.  A respite, if you will.  Otherwise known as wedding season.  And Thanksgiving.  And Christmas.  And...

I haven't just been working, but it would take several blogs worth to catch up on everything that's gone on since July.  Assuming I've just been working is easier.  Because if it wasn't work that I got actually paid for, it's been work on my own personal projects, on maintaining friendships across state lines, and (more recently) on our house and on myself.

It's also just been a hell of a year.  In a good way.  In 2017 I...

  • Turned 32.
  • Moved.
  • Bought a house.
  • Had an amazing bachelorette party.
  • Got married to the love of my life.
  • Officially became a stepmom.
  • Went on a mini-honeymoon to House on the Rock/Wisconsin Dells.
  • Read 55 books (my yearly goal is 50).
  • Won judges choice in a poetry contest.
  • Made a lot of fun projects.
  • Watched the solar eclipse.
  • Went to Chicago for my friend's baby shower.
  • Dressed up for Halloween every single day of October.
  • Went to three Christmases in one day.
  • Got a brand new fancy smartphone.
  • Stayed home on NYE and did absolutely nothing.
It was a truly wonderful year, one of my best yet in spite of the obvious stresses of so many major life changes in such a short time frame (especially since I basically planned our wedding in about a month!).

But now it's 2018.  I have absolutely no idea what is in store, but I hope to actually blog about it this time.

So, in case you'd forgotten, my name is Ashley and I (occasionally) write this blog.  I love clothes, pins, books, food, dogs, being an introvert, and lots and lots of nerdy things.


Over the next few weeks, I'm hoping to change the way I blog here, including more frequent blogs on a wider variety of topics than my week-to-week life.

In the meantime, you can always follow me on Instagram (username redhead_vintage_girl), where I share my almost-daily outfit post, along with photos of my crafts, food, and life in general.

It's 2018, guys.  It's a whole new year, with countless possibilities and adventures.  I'm looking forward to settling more and more into a daily routine, into our home, and into my still-newfound happiness.

What are you looking forward to?

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Jeepers Creepers, or How to Compliment a Woman in 5 Easy Steps

In my not-so-meteoric rise to Instagram "fame," I've started getting more and more direct messages from complete strangers (emphasis on the strange), which are, quite possibly, the bane of my Instagram existence.  If it weren't for my desire to be a public part of the vintage/pin community on Instagram, I'd probably shut my account down to a very, very private setting (like my Facebook is).

Because, come on.  Just because I post a lot of selfies does not mean that I'm looking for attention.

Shocking, I know.
It also does not mean I'm interested in sexting.  Or hooking up.

And yet.  A guy literally sent me a picture of two people having sex.

Another guy trolled through months and months of my photos, then sent me several messages in a row until I responded thusly:


Note: these are NOT men that I know in any way, shape, or form.

I also continue to get... vaguely inappropriate attention from the lower end of the male population.  Men who, I'm sure, think that they're being incredibly complimentary and yet have absolutely no idea how to compliment a woman (at least not in a way that doesn't make her skin crawl).  Men who don't know when to stop talking.  Men who don't know how to make eye contact.

Does this behavior sound familiar?  If so, I'm here for you.

It is, surprisingly, not that hard to compliment a woman.  Women manage to do it all the time.  We gush over hair and necklaces and dresses (particularly dresses with pockets).  We praise eyelashes and eyeliner.  We high five over hilarious jokes and accomplishments.  We rave about each other's talents.


All those things?  Hugely complimentary.

And I get it.  It's way easier for women to compliment other women.  There's some weird non-existent boundary that possibly comes from having tons of sleepovers and sharing clothes and makeup and secrets.  So we can tell another woman that she's sexy af without it being weird.

Sarah's Scribbles only speaks the truth, obviously.
And I get that it's not fair for you men.  But that's just the way it is.

That doesn't mean you should never compliment a woman.  But, by the unfair nature of the game, there are many, many things you should not do (and a few things you should).

(Please note: this is not a guide to how to get a girl to go out with you.  I just Googled "how to compliment a girl" for the hell of it and the results were... really, really horrifying.  So, I'm going to state this again: if you are reading this to find out how to get into a woman's pants?  You've come to the wrong place.  Or the right one, actually.  This is a guide on how not to be a creeper, after all, and you sound like you might just fit the qualifications.)

How To Compliment A Woman (in 5 Easy Steps)

1.  Don't. Tell. Her. To. Smile.  End of story.  Don't do it.  No exceptions.  No excuses.  (Okay, there's a few exceptions, like if you're doing her makeup or taking professional photos.  But that's it.  Really.)  Women do not need to smile for you.  Resting Bitch Face is real.

2.  If you don't have something nice to say, don't say nothing at all.  Let's face it, men.  Usually, you don't need to say anything.  You don't need to catcall, or whistle, or anything.  Because that woman walking by?  She's busy.  She's leading her own life.  She's grocery shopping, or spending time with her family, or listening to a Star Wars audiobook.  She's not looking for your phone number, or for casual sex in the parking lot of a Walmart.  She's not waiting for the love of her life to wolf whistle her from a passing car.  I hate to break this to you, but it's the truth.

3.  Learn to take a hint.  If she doesn't seem interested, she's probably not interested.  And that's okay.  Let her read her book in the bar.  Don't pester a random stranger on Instagram for a response.  Is she walking away quickly?  Don't follow.  Did she refuse your offer of a drink?  Stop offering.  Did she not dance with you at a wedding because she's actually working at said wedding?  Try asking someone else to dance.  I'm sure there's someone else out there somewhere who is actually interested.

4.  Be genuine.  Basically, don't try so hard, guys.  Don't think you need to go for the gold in the Compliment Olympics.  You don't.  Sure, that perfectly crafted, clever-yet-not-cheesy pickup line can get a girl's attention, maybe garner a laugh, maybe even lead to a long and happy marriage, but the best compliments I've ever received from friends and strangers alike are the ones that are genuine and in-the-moment.  Sincerity wins the day, folks.  Sincerity also generally will keep you from lame lines like, "have you ever fallen in love with someone just by looking at their pictures?"  Sincerity might also (hopefully) keep you from telling a woman how how great her tits look in the dress she's wearing.  (Pro tip: just compliment the dress.  We'll know what you mean.)  Do you like the way she snorts when she laughs really hard?  Tell her.  Do you admire her excellent taste in whiskey?  Tell her.  Do you think it's awesome that she's reading a book by your favorite author?  Tell her.  Because you know what? Compliments are not restricted to sex appeal.  And you can compliment someone without an ulterior motive.  Because compliments (genuine, uncreepy, appropriate compliments) are awesome.

5.  Finally, guys, be a gentleman.  Basically, this is an excellent rule for any encounter with a stranger.  If you wouldn't want your mom knowing what you said/did/sent to someone you don't even know, then maybe, just maybe, reconsider it.  Dick pics?  Do I need to say it?  As a rule of thumb, we probably don't want those springing up (pun so totally intended) on our phones if we're not actively in a relationship with you.  I'm glad you're so proud of it, but a picture of your genitals is not exactly the way to my heart (or any other part of my body you might be interested in).  Dick pics do not equal a compliment.  I'm sorry.  You don't always have to be a gentleman, but it's a very good place to start.

In conclusion, I leave you with adult Wednesday Addams' video about catcallers, because, really, she says it all.