call me?

Throughout high school, I was plagued by an inexplicable fear of all things related to dial tones. Before asking a guy to our homecoming dances, for which dates were mandatory, I'd break into a cold sweat and be forced to listen to the obligatory "get your head in the game" lecture from my parents.
I initially chalked it up to the inevitable angst that accompanies four years at an all-girls high school, but my phone paranoia continued through college. I used Instant Messenger to secure a date for a sorority formal during my junior year, and I didn't even have the balls to type the IM myself. I'm still surprised my date, Guy McHendry, actually showed up.
Senior year, when I vowed to actually call a date in person, I panicked at the last minute, only to be locked in a dorm room by my sorority sisters, who forced me to do the deed. Dialing, that is.
This week's column is about the etiquette for requesting a crush's phone number, dilemmas I run into virtually every weekend. But as difficult as it is to decline a digit request, perhaps the real challenge lies in what takes place after numbers are exchanged.
In relationships, even blooming ones, when does contact become burdensome rather than blissful? And how do you when you've had too much?
E-mail me your thoughts, text me your insights, but please, don't call.