My e-mail exchange with Re-Boyfriend has entered into even more asinine territory than my attempt at using the term "cannoli" as a double entendre.

We are arguing over who will send who naked pictures first. It started out as a mildly flirtatious exchange but both sides are now getting a bit peevish.

It is not that I actually want a naked picture of him (though I do think it would be amusing), I am just stalling. I cannot do sexy on command, even when drunk (as evidenced by post below).

Once, after a particularly eventful time on his couch, Re-Boyfriend suggested that I go into the bedroom and surprise him. "I'll be in soon," he told me.

Upon entering his bedroom, I stripped down to my underwear and then got confused. What the hell is both surprising and sexy that can be done, alone, in a bedroom with minimal time or accessories?

I couldn't think of anything, got bored, and began folding his laundry.

"Well," he said, appearing in his doorway moments later as I was matching up his socks, "This is surprising."

But CB, you say, surely you can pull it together for the two seconds required to look sexy in order to take a decent picture?

Naked pictures of me (actually, pictures of me in a bra and underwear, one must hedge their bets a little) look RIDICULOUS. My face is generally twisted in a parody of sexiness that reads more like surprised constipation. Alternately, I have been known to flash an exasperated expression that clearly says "Please God, let the picture turn out well, I am so tired of doing this."

Perhaps my face doesn't have to be in it? But in that case, why does the picture have to be of me at all?

May I never be in a long-distance relationship. I cannot even begin to fathom phone sex.