upDATE: Mr. Can I Get a Vowel

After 7 months of not seeing each other, I agreed to finally see Mr. Can I Get a Vowel again.

The fact that his name is literally missing a vowel and is spelled incorrectly (yet….not…cuz that’s how his mama spelled it) still bugs me.  However, we did have some crazy chemistry and I remember both dates that we had last year like they were yesterday.  Might as well, right? He told me he’s completely single and still wondering what I’m up to.

We met at a place in Venice for drinks.

As I began to walk in to meet him, I realized that he hadn’t seen me (or even a pic of me) with my new haircut.  I’ve been told I look pretty different now, and I agree.

Oh, great.

I immediately felt the anxiety of the “First Date Nerves” all over again.  That beginning part where you’re meeting someone in person after communicating mostly via text or message or phone.

Sure enough, I’m walking towards who I think is him, sitting at a table towards the back.  The place is packed.

The guy turns and looks at me walking towards him across the room.  He doesn’t respond.

Oh, CRAP! He totally doesn’t recognize me! Wait.  Is that even HIM???

I literally keep walking towards this guy, getting closer and closer.  I’ve committed to it.

Still NO RESPONSE. Not a smile, but a look of confusion, perhaps?

I am now literally AT the table and I’m 98% sure it’s him but need him to say something so I can recognize his voice.  Or a smile, or something! ANYTHING!

I decide that it’s him and pull up a chair next to him and say, “Hi! Yeah, it’s me.  I cut my hair….”

The look of wonder starts to fade and he smiles a faint smile.

He totally didn’t recognize me!

Ha!

Awkward.

He looks at my hair, me up and down, back at my hair.  It’s funny and random.  He says he likes it, he just didn’t recognize me.

We begin to catch up and our nerves dissipate.

He’s still super attractive and I love his style and designer jeans.  The man can dress.

He asked me what happened to the guy I last told him I was seeing (umm…that would be The Doc, last year).  He has a great memory.

I tell him that that guy was great, but that he didn’t want a longterm, serious relationship with me.

He says, “Yeah, welcome to my world.  That’s woman’s problem in LA.”

Umm, excuuuuuze me?! I thought that was just MY challenge!

Apparently he’d been meeting other people off of Plenty of Fish who were a bit bat*** crazy.  He says that most women here don’t know what they want.

I love hearing the men’s perspective on dating.  It’s usually a topic on 80% of dates I go on.

He’s an affectionate guy and we’re flirting.  He puts his hand on my knee as we watch the NBA game that’s on and talk.

After he buys us a round or two of drinks, we close out our tab.

Since we’re a block away from the ocean, we head to his car to put our stuff away.

I recognize the same black BMW he had last year, and it felt nice to see something “familiar” when I haven’t talked to him in so long.  Our connection is definitely there and I feel very comfortable with him.  He has a very quiet, calming presence.

He grabs a blanket out of the trunk and we walk around the pier and almost empty boardwalk of Venice.

After about an hour of hearing waves crash on the beach, we parted ways with him promising me that I won’t wait another 7 months to see him again.

I made the promise, and I’m sure it won’t be 7 months, although I’m not exactly sure why or when we’d see each other again.

As much as I enjoy our connection on the chemistry side of things, he’s lacking in a few other areas that are very important to me.  Ambition and career track.  Plus, he may be moving to Puerto Rico for 4 months to go work for his brother who’s a professional basketball player (and former LA Clippers player).

Nothing longterm is really there, but we’re still in communication and I won’t blow him off or lose his number anytime soon.

(Fun Fact: As I started to type this blog about him, I remembered on our date that he said his birthday was yesterday! And he turned 40! That was a big deal! OOPS! I feel like a total jerk.

I just text him “Happy Birthday” wishes and hope he had a good weekend and we’ve been texting back and forth.

Thank God I’m blogging! I probably wouldn’t have remembered til sometime next week when it randomly hit me! Thanks, Single Girl Shenanigans.  See – I blog for you guys, but I also blog for me.  It helps me remember things.) :)

They’re Baaaack

First of all, I know I owe my faithful readers a Part 2 of the last blog, False Starts and Orgasms, but to be honest with you that all sort of fizzled out and I’ve been too uninspired to finish the story.  Sorry.

Mainly because the guy has been keeping in contact with me but not making any further plans. He tells me he’s focused on his gig at Warner Bros, as well as his side projects and launching his company. He checks in on me and we talk every now and then. But nothing more. So frustrating! I also think he’s confused on what he wants.

Welcome to the non-committal, career-driven, Single Man Syndrome in Los Angeles. Again.  My catch-22.  Sounds like The Doc.

That being said, I’m writing this quick blog update to let you know that there are people who DO know what they want, and they won’t leave me alone!  And strangely enough, these guys are from my past blog updates. It was last year when I met both of these guys, if I recall correctly.

So many guys come back down the road. Especially if I’m the one who isn’t interested after a date or two. Weird.

Anyway, Mr. Can I Get A Vowel and Mr. Too Young Tyson Beckford have both been consistently persistent in wanting to see me again. Last night both of them were texting me…

Mr. Can I Get A Vowel is single (and still VERY hot, I imagine) and apparently thinks about me all the time but didn’t want to bother me. However, his tune clearly changed recently, as the texts began picking up again. He has been asking to see me for several weeks now but I’ve been hesitant.

I told him I had reservations that we don’t want the same things. Although we have CRAZY chemistry,  I’m looking for a long term committed relationship, and I’m not sure that’s what he wants too. He says he understands what I want, that he’s open to that idea, that he really likes me and that he wants to ‘go with the flow.’

That’s either code for “yeah yeah yeah…I just want in your pants so I’ll say anything at this point…” OR it means he’s potentially interested in really getting to know me better and doesn’t want to promise me anything he’s not sure about.  They both sound the same.

You could flip a coin on this one.  We’ll see.

We have a date on Wednesday night.

He came up with a plan, a place, a time, a day – all something that a lot of men, it seems, have trouble doing.

Side note: It’s not rocket science to ask someone out for coffee or a drink, geez! Be a man! Ask us single ladies out on a date, already!  :)

I digress.

So naturally,  I accepted his invitation.

Last night I fell asleep to his text that said he was very excited to see me and couldn’t wait. That made me excited, too. It will be good to catch up with him at least.

This morning I woke up to a text from him telling me:

“Good morning, beautiful. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

I like it. :-)

Mr. Too Young Tyson Beckford isn’t that serious, and hasn’t planned an actual date with me yet, although he’s mentioned wanting to get together a few times.  He was gone for a couple weeks on a business trip in Canada and returned recently.

He’s still a few years younger. I believe he’s still in his late 20′s, which was my biggest reservation in the past.

My ex-boyfriend is 50! That’s quite a gap.

However, he’s very, very interested in seeing me again and who knows what I’ll do with that one. Probably nothing. Even over text I can sense some immaturity.  It’s not his fault, its just where he is right now in life. Nothing wrong with that. (Except horrible timing for me!) I’m really looking for someone who’s in their 40s.

But DANG! He is gorgeous!

So there’s a quick roundup.

There are other players on the field.  More of them are on the sidelines or brand new to the lineup and not yet blog-worthy.  Of course, I’ll be sure to let you know if anything develops.

Who knows what will happen, but I can almost guarantee you… shenanigans.

Shenanigans,  indeed.

False Starts & Orgasms – Part I

Attention faithful followers of my shameless shenanigans!

NEW GUY ALERT!

Yes, folks.  There’s someone new on the scene and he’s worth blogging about.  The online dating gods have conspired yet again to bring me a “match.” Well, that happens all the time, actually.  But we spent almost all of our time together this last weekend, so it’s definitely more than an algorithm’s suggestion at this point. Read on.

About a month ago:

1. He sends me a message on OkCupid (remember I deleted my Plenty of Fish account awhile back)

2. I check him out, think he’s cute and interesting and funny, so I respond.

3.  We go back and forth for the next week or so.

4.  We finally exchange numbers.

5.  We text.

6.  I leave for a trip out of state a few days later.  I’m gone for a week.

7.  I return and we make plans to meet.

8.  We have a few conversations via phone.  Yes, folks.  A real conversation on the telephone.  Rare.  I treasure it.

9.  We make plans to meet on a Saturday night.

10.  But THEN….those plans fall through.   He basically flakes on me.  I’m mad/disappointed, yet honestly was too tired to go out that night anyways.

11.  He KNOWS I’m mad/disappointed and profusely calls/texts me the next day apologizing.  He had a misunderstanding of the plans.

12.  He’s cute and funny and he’s APOLOGIZING so I forgive him.

13.  After reading him the polite version of the riot act about how my weekend time is precious and usually pretty scheduled in advance and how I LOVE when a man makes a plan (ie – “How about we meet for coffee on Saturday at 3pm?” instead of “Well maybe we can cross paths on Saturday night…”), and also how 3 other guys contacted me the night we were supposed to go out (FUN FACT: including Mr. Too-Young-Tyson-Beckford!… who I haven’t heard from since I turned him and his hot, gorgeous, skinny jeans-loving self down), and NOW he understands.  He feels bad.  And he realizes he needs to “step his game up” because I’m clearly a “popular woman…” Um, yes. Whatever the case, communication is all I ask for.  Still cute.

There’s the backstory.

Here’s the rest:

Armed with his new knowledge about how I roll (I love a solid PLAN and all…), he calls to ask me out to dinner, Saturday night.  Reservations are at 7:30pm and we’ll have dinner and drinks at this cool place he’s been to before.  RESERVATIONS!

Now, let me share something.

I feel this is way too much for a first date. What if I don’t like him? Or, worse….what if he doesn’t like ME?! That makes for a very awkward dinner.

I much prefer to meet first for a brief cup ‘o joe and let a coffee date organically turn into something more, but apparently this guy wants to do things a bit differently.

Ok, fine.  I just roll with it.  Dinner is going to be at least $125, if not more, but hey, his call.  He’s clearly listening to how I prefer things now and brushed off my suggestions for something simple.  I can definitely appreciate his extra effort.

We have plans to meet at Bar Pinxto, very close to where I live, but a place I’d never been to.  He gets excited when I tell him it’s something new for me to discover.  It’s a super cute, rustic but fancy Spanish tapas bar.  I’m up for it and feeling adventurous.

I’m wearing a purple-blue dress and tall, black boots.  It’s dressy for Santa Monica, yet it’s not.  I love the diversity here.

I’m standing outside the restaurant and then see him walking up towards me.  He’s CUTE! Even cuter in person.  He’s wearing jeans, a collared shirt and a brown leather type of jacket over it.  Stylish.

He hugs me hello and gives me a kiss on the cheek.  Very sweet.

We head inside and are seated.

He’s nervous. I’m nervous.  We make awkward small talk as we look at the wine menu we’ve just been handed.

He’s smiling.  I’m smiling.  This is going to be interesting.

Him: “Do you see anything you like?”

Me: (a lover of wine, but definitely NOT a wino) “Ummm….I’m not picky.  Do you have a preference?”

Him: “Oh, yes. I love Spanish wines.”

I recall we’re at a Spanish tapas place.  There is a large assortment of bottles of wine all around us on display.

I’m quickly sold on the fact that this guy clearly has some culture and cuisine skillz.  YES.

He suggests I try a favorite wine of his and we talk about our day.

He works for Warner Bros and actually had to push back our reservations by a half hour because he was stuck at work on a Saturday getting something ready for a film they’re about to release.  I’m glad to learn he’s a career-guy!

He’s from NYC and was transferred out here to Los Angeles about a year ago for work.

He’s good at his job, yet also has a full-on business plan for what he wants to do with his own company he’s about to launch.

The waitress asks to take our order and I tell him I don’t understand anything on the menu (more or less…it’s all in Spanish) so he politely orders for the both of us.  A few small plates here and there.

The food is amazing!

Mostly things I’ve never heard of or experienced, and I’m loving the adventure as much as he’s loving that he’s the one who gets to watch me experience it for the first time.

The special of the night has squid ink in it and I learn he MUST order this dish.

Like I said.  Adventurous.  That sounds nasty, right?!?!

Well, this man hadn’t led me astray all night and sure enough, it was delicious.

Throughout the next 2 1/2 hours, we dine and talk and bond over squid ink and calamari.

I learn about his family and how he’s very close with his mom, dad and three younger sisters all back on the East Coast.

He also has a 5-year-old daughter and the bi-coastal parenting adjustment has been hard for him.  I can relate and I give him tips about his plans to take her to Disneyland when she’s ready to come visit pretty soon.

He asks me questions about what I do and he’s fascinated.

I share more about who I am and a bit on my work, but mostly he’s a chatterbox telling me stories about living and growing up in New York City and his transition to living here on the West Coast now.

We’re having a GREAT time!

We wrap up dinner and then decide to take a stroll down Ocean Avenue.

We stop to look inside the windows of an art gallery and we both identify our favorite pieces.  He tells me he just picked up some new canvases at Michael’s the other day, and I’m glad to find we also have this hobby in common.  I’d love a “paint date” in the future. :)

He walks me back to my car and as we’re standing in the parking lot, he begins to play the “I don’t want to leave but I’m not sure if I should kiss you or just keep talking to you” game.

It’s cute.

He’s been kinda stand-offish all night physically, yet definitely connected.

So it’s getting late and I say I’m going to head home.  We hug and I thank him for an awesome night, with big kudos on picking out a great restaurant.

He’s glad I enjoyed the evening – he’s had just as good of a time as well.

I get in my car and he heads off to his.

On the way home, I realize we just spent about 3 hours together.  Not bad for a first date! All smiles.

I also realize that you’ve read this whole blog and there has been NO mention of orgasms.  Sorry.

That happens on the next date, so I’ll be calling this one Part I.

Stay tuned…

 

 

UpDATE: The Architect

I learned so much this weekend.

First, I learned that as much as The Architect intrigues me, it’s not a match.

Without divulging too much detail about his personal life and continuous drama with the mother of his two children, I’ll say this much:

We all have baggage.  We just have to decide how much strength we have to carry a heavy (or lighter) load.  And when it comes to a very fresh, very new potential relationship, this includes you and how much of their baggage you choose to deal with alongside them.  Especially when you’re close enough to be trusted with and learn all of the craziness happening from a pretty early start.

There’s a LOT.

Long story short, the level of his “baby mama drama” is like an 11 on the 10-point scale.  And even though she’s this famous blonde Hollywood-type you’ve most likely seen on a TV show (a Dr. who talks about relationships of all things!), according to The Architect she’s bat-poop cray cray.  A fraud and total hypocrite who is somehow “obsessed” with Mr. Architect, as he says.  The stories he shares with me about her are like nothing I’ve heard and it makes me appreciate the people in my life who are SANE.

They’ve not been together for over 6 years but as a very active dad in his two daughter’s lives, it’s inevitable and almost unavoidable drama for him on a daily basis.

I learn more and more during our date this weekend:

After not seeing each other for a month or so, The Architect invites me out for brunch.

I was curious to see how he was doing (new developments for him on the work side of things) and we do have a special connection.

We spent a few hours in the warm, sunny SoCal city of Manhattan Beach.  After we ate at Ocean View Cafe, we walked down to the ocean.

He shared with me the latest gripes and groans about everything going on (his ex, his latest client who won’t pay his full rate, etc) and I found myself feeling sad.

Sad for him because it’s never any fun when one parent uses the kids to manipulate the other parent.  Sad for him because I know he loves his daughters and his ex puts so much unnecessary strain on those relationships, and after 16 years of it, he’s TIRED.  And finally, sad for him because the majority of what he talks about now is almost all negative.

I’m a glass-half full type of woman and maybe when I’m 56 I’ll be a Negative Nancy, too, but I certainly will do everything in my power to NOT be!

In addition, I can’t STAND people who are negative.  Or not just negative, but who only talk about the bad things in life.   He might speak about actual facts of a situation that he can’t do anything about, but there’s always light to find in a situation, too.

I much prefer to keep things positive, happy, light-hearted and fun.

Much of what he talks about is just repetitive, too, and I’m not a fan of a broken record.

I AM a fan, however, of acknowledging the bad stuff but then changing things up and to start focusing on the positives we see right in front of us.

Fast forward…

He knows I have plans later in the day (another date!…although I didn’t share that), so we head back. I drop him off.  We hug and he gives me a kiss goodbye.

It didn’t feel “final” or anything, but in my heart he’s definitely moved into The Friend Zone.

Which, of course, SUCKS because now instead of getting it for free, I’ll probably have to pay him to build me that dream house, in which I won’t be living in with him.  Sigh.

The Doc, His Cousin and Me: An Interesting Threesome

After a long somewhat stressful, definitely busy week at the office I was ready to just come home tonight and chill.  It’s a Friday, I’ve survived the post-Valentine’s Day madness, and I just want to kick back.

Earlier, I declined an invite to meet a new guy from OkCupid out for drinks (and yes, I deleted my Plenty of Fish account for certain reasons, but OkCupid has been there like a trusted standby.)

I had already re-scheduled dinner plans earlier with a girlfriend for another time.

Another text comes in.  I decline a second invitation to head out to party with a guy who I’ve known for several years, who’s interested in dating me (even though I’d rather just be friends).  He’s so much fun, but definitely not near me in Santa Monica right now, and I don’t feel like driving anywhere.

So I’m chillin’ on the couch, eating some dinner and watching American Idol on the DVR when guess who calls me out of the blue?

The Doc.

My heart skips a beat and I debate not answering.  I’m sooo tired.

But, HELLO! It’s The DOC!

So, duh, I answer.

He wants to know what I’m up to tonight.  Him and his cousin (who I’ve heard many things about) are looking for something to do, and he says it’d be nice to see me.  They’ll even come to me so I don’t have to drive.

So an hour and change later, I’m walking across the street to our local watering hole, which is ALSO the same place I had my housewarming party where The Doc and I slow danced for an hour, holding each other and catching up after not seeing each other for awhile.  Obviously special memories.

I meet his cousin.

He’s tall and built, just like The Doc, and also from Belize.

They’re both dressed nice – The Doc in a salmon-colored Nike polo shirt and jeans and his cousin in a nice collared shirt and jeans.

I’m feeling floored that I’m being introduced to family members for the first time tonight, but hey, whatever.  I can roll with it.

The Doc immediately tells his cousin that the last time we were here together he and I “slow danced to an uptempo jam while all her friends carried on around us…it was great…”

…and all of a sudden I realize that The Doc has DEFINITELY told his cuzzo about who I am and what I mean to The Doc, on more than one occasion and knows things like I’ve stayed at his house before, and how we both love when he makes coffee in the mornings with his new French press contraption.  And, he’s not shy or embarrassed or squeamish about these details.

Refreshing.

It’s almost like we’re dating.

We all laugh, we joke, we have a GREAT time.

His cousin, more than once, laughs at my jokes or high fives me for giving The Doc some crap about something or other (I like to give him a hard time…he loves our sharp, witty banter).

On several occasions, his cousin looks at The Doc after something I said and goes, “I approve” as he points at me and smiles.  “Yeah, man…”

At one point, his cousin says, “I’ve never seen him smile so much.  He wasn’t even smiling til you walked in, and now he can’t stop!”

It’s cute.

We banter, we flirt, we order fancy drinks (of which they are both connoisseurs of good drinks) and talk about several things, including love and relationships.

Yes, we went there.  In a light-hearted kinda way.

I have no problem telling The Doc that he’s more of a “Tinder than eHarmony kinda guy,” mostly to test him and his lack of commitment conversations we’ve had so many times in the past.

But tonight he actually defends himself!

Which is weird cuz that’s not like him.

Plus, we’re talking about all of this with his cousin, too, who’s very much a part of this conversation.

I’m finding it very interesting how open and vulnerable The Doc is being.  Not only with me, but in front of his cousin, too! We’ve had many a deep conversation by ourselves, but this is unique.  I know they’re super close and it’s obvious he’s comfortable in this space.

The Doc tells me maybe he IS more of an eHarmony target customer but that most people just don’t know his heart is actually on the other side, so they can’t find it.

I joke that he just shared with me where his heart is, and whether or not he realized that, and he says, “That’s ok that you know.  I know you won’t break it.”

Breakthrough.

I tell him “that’s true” and deep down I know that if this man truly gave me his heart, it’d be the world’s best love story, and that I’d love him more than anyone I’ve ever loved in my life.  There are SO many things I love and respect about who this man is as a person.

His cousin goes to the bathroom at one point and The Doc pulls me close and tells me how good it is to see me.

I’m in familiar territory but I refuse to get all goo-goo-gaa-gaa over this moment, because I never know really where he’s at.  My heart is protected now, too.

Eventually the bar is closing down so he takes care of the check.

We walk out and he wants to walk me home (across the street) like a gentleman.

I hug his cousin goodbye as he waits for valet to get their car.  He says he definitely wants to see me again, and that we’ll make plans.  I like him – he’s cool people!

The Doc walks me to my door.  We stand reallllly close to each other, we hug, he tells me I smell good.

We banter, I give him crap about the whole “Tinder vs eHarmony” thing again, he tells me to quit, smiles, he thanks me (again) for coming out to meet them, and I thank him for meeting me here so close to my place.

We kiss, and I wipe some of my very red lipstick off of his lips after.

“Oops, sorry,” I say.

He shrugs and says, “I like it.”

We then hug and say good night and he watches me walk away, with this big cheesy, adorable grin on his face.

And there ya have it.

A random night with The Doc, where he wanted me to meet his cousin.  So I did.

It means everything, nothing or something in the middle.

Too late and too much to figure out with this guy, so instead, I’m heading to bed.

The story of The Doc & I continues…

Shenanigans, indeed.

Frustration, an Ex and the Deleting of my Plenty of Fish Account

Valentine’s Day is this Friday.

As of today (Monday morning), I have no plans with anyone special and I’m doing my best to not flip my lid.

Not that I think the world will end if no one asks me on a date for Valentine’s Day, but with all of the recent shenanigans activity you would think SOMEONE would make a move. But, no.  Nothing yet.

Let me update you.

Since my last blog, there’s been MUCH going on.  With several people.

I’ve spent a tremendous amount of time with Mr. Architect lately, and also saw The Doc.

Both are special men who I have a unique connection with, especially The Doc, for those of you who’ve been reading our 8-month-long journey.

Also, last night a guy I used to date briefly a few years back got together with me and told me that his world stops and time stands still whenever he sees me, and that he’s never wanted to be with anyone other than me and how special and connected he feels with me. “If you’re ready for a relationship, I’m sure you’ll pick me.”

Ummm, no.

You’re not the one, buddy.  We had our moments, but that window has closed.  Thanks for pouring your heart out to me, but I can’t help if I know in my heart you’re not the one, and now I’m even MORE frustrated because you’re a nice guy offering me what I want, but I have no feelings for you.

So, hence my frustration because no one seems to be willing to make any REAL moves here.  Well, correction – the guys I WANT to make moves, aren’t.

Or my Prince Charming just hasn’t arrived yet and I’m still being taught how to be patient.

Patience, my ass.  Ain’t nobody got time for that!

(Ok, that was probably the most ironic statement of all time.  So, just kidding.)

So, on Saturday morning, I had logged on to my Plenty Of Fish account.

POF shows you who’s “online” of the guys you’ve been talking to, messaging, or in some cases people you’ve met in real life from POF who still have an active account.

I log in to check my messages and see what’s going on.  It’s kinda become as routine as checking emails.

Who do I see “online?”

Mr. Architect.

Again.

I’ve now seen him “online” every day for the past two weeks or so and it’s obvious he’s still using the site.  In fact, there have been a few times where we’ve both just seen each other, and 20 minutes later are both logged into “Plenty of Fish.” That can’t be good, right?

So I see him logged in on Saturday.

That’s fine.  We’re not married, but for some reason this really starts to bother me.

His communication with me lately is still pretty good, we’ve seen each other a lot, we text and email all the time and he’s “serious about this” with me, so it’s always weird to see someone say and do these things yet continue to log back into the dating site that brought you two together in the first place.

I can’t stand it any longer.  I actually thought Mr. Architect and I were heading down the path of only being interested in each other (he even has told me that his intuition told him I was “the one” when he first saw my profile online, among other serious conversations we’ve had about what we’re both looking for, etc).

Yeah, so why be online so much?

So I delete my Plenty Of Fish account.

I need a break.

Too much to figure out, lately, and I need answers.

Ok, I don’t need answers, I’d just really like to know what’s going on inside the heads of a few people.

I feel more comfortable with stability here, and guessing what’s going to happen, or waiting to see what’ll develop gets old real fast.

Deleting my POF account helped relieve some of that stress.  I’ll no longer have to know if this dude is online talking to plenty of other fish in the sea everytime I log in!

(Side note: I DELETED MY POF ACCOUNT! Did you read that part?! Not sure if you realize, but for me, that’s like the equivalent of a smoker giving up cigarettes.  Oh wait.  I just made the analogy of dating to quitting an addicting, disgusting disease that makes you smell nasty and could eventually kill you at some point.  Hmmm….gulp.)

So there ya have it.

A brief update on the love life.

(Second side note: I did talk to my sister who lives in Nebraska for quite awhile this weekend, too.  She’s married and has been off the market for awhile now.  She asked why it was so tough to date in LA, and I’ve broken it down to two reasons, but that’s best left for another blog.)

Thanks for reading, my friends.

Love and hearts and roses and stuff…to you all.  If I don’t have a Valentine by Friday, I’ll be sure to choose you guys instead, deal? :)

Mr. Architect: An UpDATE for Date #1 – When we first met

Bringing you up to speed on Mr. Architect, my future (maybe?) house builder “if this works out.”

It all started when he asked me to meet for a late Saturday lunch. We met at Casa del Mar, a swanky hotel about 5 minutes from me, in Santa Monica.  This is my favorite place to meet to watch the sunset.  There are HUGE windows and the hotel is right on the ocean. It’s gorgeous.

We met up and to the right, in the library part of the elegant lobby.

We met up and to the left, in the library part of the elegant lobby.

I’m nervous to meet him, but look reallly cute.  I was wearing a dress, high heels and my fab new spray tan.  (Btw, don’t judge the paint.  Everyone looks better bronzed, and my white butt needed some color! :) I felt very Californian.)

I had plans to meet my girls for brunch right before (just down the street, at another fabulous hotel, Loews), and then would head over afterwards to meet him.

He had texted me to meet him “in the upper bar, at the library.” Extra points already for giving me specifics. I love that, and it’s a big hotel.

I walk in and see him across the way.  He stands up from his chair, smiles, I wave and cross over to him.

He then reaches out his hand and helps me up the 3 steps to where he was sitting.  Well, folks, we have a gentleman on our hands! I appreciate the assistance as I’m wearing 4 inch heels.

He immediately makes a comment about how great I look and I’m pleasantly surprised to see him look even better in person.

He’s wearing some sort of golf shorts, a polo with its collar popped, underneath a light blue sweater – its collar also popped. Ah, yes, that man has style.  He’s an architect, after all.

He’s also wearing a fitted baseball hat.

Now, I’m not sure where or how I grew to LOVE a man in a fitted hat, but there’s something about that look that drives me crazy! Maybe it’s from my appreciation/fascination with athletes.  They can really pull that off.

I sit down at the couch next to his chair, in this small area with a few other comfy chairs and a flat screen TV on the wall.  It’s warm and sunny and a perfect Saturday afternoon.

We begin to chat.

The conversation is going great! He’s telling me about his family, growing up in SoCal, a bit about his work, etc.  I’m telling him similar things.  There’s a lot of smiling and laughs.  My cheeks hurt.

I ask him why he wanted to contact me and what he liked about me/my profile.  I’m always curious.

He tells me he likes that I’m smart, “put together,” and beautiful.  It’s really cute, because he’s trying to be super polite and wants to elaborate on that one more, and I can tell he’s looking for the right words.  Words that won’t offend me, but will get his point across.   He did a good job.  I blush.  I’m flattered.

He takes his hat off and puts it on the table in front of us.

I ask him to please pick it back up – and to put it back on, but backwards.

He smiles, and does it.

I die.

I look at him and his matching blue hat, and think, “This man can not be 47 years old as it said in his profile! Wow, he looks good.”

At that moment, he leans over and asks for a kiss.

Wait, what?? I just met you! But then again, you are wearing the heck outta that damn hat…

He gives me a sweet kiss on the lips.

I died again.

Those lips!

We continue conversation for another TWO HOURS.  A few more kisses snuck in.

I learn two things:

1.  This man doesn’t care about PDA.

2.  He knows what he wants.

In the meantime, a family of 4 visiting from another country (maybe Ireland or England) comes over to our area to watch the Australian Open on the TV.  A mom, dad, son about 13 and daughter, 21-ish who comes back from the bar with a drink.

Mr. Architect and I are chatting amongst ourselves.

He still has the hat on, backwards.

He’s leaning over to me to tell me something quietly, but stops abruptly, and says, “I think she just took my picture.”

What??

“Yeah! I think that girl just took my picture!” he says, quietly and in shock.

I turn my head to the right, where the girl was sitting, and sure enough, she’s holding her iPhone in the “I’m-trying-not-to-look-conspicuous-while-I-take-your-picture” way.

Well, what the what?!

She looks away.

He’s confused, yet flattered.

I’m smiling, laughing to myself.  Hell, I’m flattered.

He does look like someone famous.  An athlete (he’s 6′ 4″), the backwards hat, his attention that would glide to the sports on the TV in front of us occassionally.  Yep.  I can see what she was thinking.  I also remember that we’re in a high density of tourists area and people not from Los Angeles hope to run into a celebrity during their stay.

Awkward and awesome at the same time.

The real irony here, however, is that his ex (and mother to his two girls, 10 and 15) is somewhat famous.  A well-known TV personality who I went home later to Google.  Yep.  She’s someone.  He’s all too familiar with the Hollywood scene, and prefers to remain in the background. (This makes more sense now and I recall how he doesn’t like having pictures up online.)

So, we’re there nearly 2 1/2 hours by this point and he says he needs to put more money in the meter where he parked.

We get up to leave.

We walk across the street.  His Range Rover is up the block, so I suggest I wait for him at the bottom of the street.  When he comes back we can watch the sunset on the ocean.

He heads up the hill to his truck and not a minute later two of my girlfriends who I had brunch with earlier pop right up in front of me! They were still hanging out in the area and had seen us walk right past them moments ago.

They saw my date! And I wanted them to meet him, so moments later I’m introducing him to my girls.  Random! Awkward! Awesome! haha I love them, and it’s now fun to have them put a face and name with the shenanigans I dish later on. :)

We all walk across the street to the sand so we can watch the sun go down.  My girls decide to part ways, though, and Mr. Architect and I are now alone again.

We stroll on the promenade, walking slowly, talking and holding hands.  He’s very affectionate.

We find a spot to sit and talk some more.

We’re being all cute and kinda lovey-dovey and flirty and people are watching as they pass by on their walks.  (Something I learn to get use to on Date #2, Date #3 and Date #4.)

But it’s just me and him there, really.  The conversation continues…

The topic of his age comes up, and I want to verify that he’s really 47, as it says on his profile.  I love an older guy, and prefer someone in their 40s, but I just can’t believe that he’s that old! He looks much younger!

(Side note: I later asked my girls who met him how old they thought he was, and they said “late 30s, if that.”)

He reacts strangely, and just smiles.

Oh, no.  You did not lie on your profile, buddy! Did you??

He tells me he’s not 47.

I immediately begin to get nervous.

I ask again, demanding that he tells me how old he is.

Maybe he’s younger? Or not, wait, maybe….older? Oh no, how MUCH older?

He chuckles a little and says he’ll tell me.  He’ll be honest with me.

“I’m actually fifty.  Fifty…five.  55 years old.”

WHAT?!?!?!

Holy amazeballs, Batman! That can’t be right.

I feel like I’ve just been given the biggest shock of my life.

“Yep, it’s true.  But only for a few more weeks.  I’ll be 56 in two weeks.  On Superbowl Sunday.” He smiles a big smile.

WHAT?!?!?!?

I look for a paper bag to breathe into.  This is not what I was expecting.

I’m 33.  That’s a 22 year difference!

Ummm…ok, focus.  What do I do now? Hmmm….everything was going so great!

I look at him real close and just shake my head.  I don’t believe him.  He has to be younger.

But then he goes to tell me that he knew I wouldn’t respond to his message on Plenty of Fish if I had seen his real age.

He was right.

And now I think I’m kinda glad he lied.  Otherwise I wouldn’t be here on this fabulous date.

So at this point he’s conscious that I’m either two seconds away from bailing on this date and never talking to him again, or kissing him cuz he’s clearly the hottest AARP-card-carrying member I’ve met. (Omg, please don’t let that last assumption be true. How old do you have to be to qualify for AARP?)

He grabs my hands and then my waist and pulls me into a hug.  He gives me a playful kiss and that helps calm me down a bit.

I decide not to bail, but my mind is still reeling.

We have a bit more conversation and then we know it’s time to get going.  He had something to do with his daughters at 6:30pm.

We say goodbye, but not after me giving him crap about his age some more.  I appreciate that he was honest with me in person, and I know that a lot of people lie in their profiles about age.

And for some reason, I’m more curious than creeped out about this guy.

I’m fascinated by who he is, what he does, his story, his personality.  All of it.

I mean, there is an age difference.  And he was building Denzel Washington a house when I was still in high school (as I later found out), but I think I’m ok with that.

I think. :)

The shenanigans continue…

And a question for you!

The Abs Return: Mr. Surgeon Part II

In case you missed the introduction to Mr. Ab-City Surgeon, head there now and then come back.

So are you ready?!?! Here’s an update on the handsome washboard-having MD!

Ok, well, you see that last exclamation point I just used in the last sentence? Yeah, that sentence alone was about as exciting as it’ll get here, so don’t expect fireworks or get your hopes up for somethin’ juicy.  Not in this one, at least.  (Not every part of the dating in LA shenanigans contains pizazz.  Sorry.  Which further signifies the sometimes draining, dismal, boring, frustrating part of online dating.  I tend to share the exciting and emotional experiences, but yes, there are the hum-drum, snoozefest moments, too.)

And although I was totally excited to see the blue, flashing “New message from (insert his screen name here)” on OkCupid come flying in tonight, the excitement was about a 2 on a scale of 1 to 10.

Why, you ask?

Mostly because it had been 8 DAYS since we last exchanged messages.  8 DAYS! That’s like an eternity in online dating speak.  Nobody waits that long and still remembers someone they talked to once, over a week ago.

Except me, I guess.  I remembered him.  He was even blog-worthy.  And I can thank my photographic memory, too.  And for his six-pack abs that permanently burned a hole in my single mind’s eye…

Regardless, I was caught up in a TV show when the blue light came blinking and I didn’t want to look toooo eager, so I waited a bit to check his message and respond.

I had previously asked him whether he was from LA.

He started with:

“Hi (insert my name here)!”

An exclamation point! He used my name! That was nice.  Some interest there, obviously.

And then he answers my question.  In two sentences.  And that was it. Nothing more, no further questions.

WHEW! Told ya.  Excitement.  Drama.  Intrigue.

NOT.

I sent him back a generic message, and asked another related question about his experience living in Los Angeles.

So now I’m sitting here thinking:

A.) Hmmm.  He wrote me back, but is he still interested? I mean, he DID write me back.  He DID use an exclamation point.  He DID use my name (and re-look at my profile before responding.) But he was very short in his response, and didn’t ask a single question in return.  Hmmm.

and,

B.) I wonder if Mr. Architect will let me know about confirming plans for this Friday’s date tonight, or tomorrow? Hmmm.

So there ya have it.

My interest has clearly been diverted off of abs and steered into a very different direction.  A taller, older, more established direction.  And yes, I just called Mr. Architect more established than a surgeon, believe it or not.  He’s incredible! (I still owe you more info on Mr. Architect, I know…)

In my first blog about Mr. Surgeon, I had predicted that he’d either never respond, we’d send a few messages back and forth, or we’d get married – with the reality laying somewhere in the middle.

My further prediction now?

I think that was the end.

I’d be very surprised if I hear back from him again.

I would NOT be surprised, however, if I found some more abs on OkCupid.  The amount of beautiful men sporting almost perfect bodies on dating sites in Los Angeles is almost laughable.  They’re everywhere.  Must be something in the water…

Mr. Architect – Will you build me a house?

Apparently Plenty of Fish (POF) doesn’t let you send someone a message if you haven’t at least uploaded one picture of yourself first.  THIS kind of a rule is amazing.   Online dating is so much better when there’s pics.

Yet Mr. Architect found this out the hard way when he came across my profile and immediately wanted to contact me.  (He later tells me how and why he initially reached out.)

Seeing as how he’s a very private guy, he didn’t want to upload any pictures.  However, he saw me and wanted to contact me, so up a picture went.

Operation: Talk To This Girl, began.

First, he added me as a Favorite.

I ignored it.

Big deal.  Tons of people add me as a favorite, but never do anything beyond that.  Plus, your profile’s pretty blank, dude.  Not interested.

A few days pass.  He then sent me a message:

“Good morning…”

That was it.

So, naturally, I ignored it, also.

Not because I’m a snob, but if that’s all you’re going to give me in your first message, I’m not interested.  It’s not my job to create your profile (or conversation) FOR you!

Besides, after the hundredth first-ever message from guys like: “Hi.” “Hey there.” “What’s up?” “Hey beautiful.” “How are you?” ….I want to stab my eye with a pencil. Where’s the originality?!

Points for someone who knows how to communicate! Yes, even online, it’s a stretch nowadays, and someone who can string together more than two original sentences is already sexier than the other “Hi” guy. Ugh.  Kill me.

A few days later, this guy who had actually listed his profession on his very limited profile as “Sales Professional”, decided to give it one more shot.

He finally sends:

“Hello,

You’re gorgeous and I think you’re just stunning! And I’m sure you’re bright and put together as well, and I would love to talk sometime, or if you’re up for it, even meet……I’m a 6’4″ architect ~ funny, bright, cool laid-back guy who is also very fit.

You can check me out via my website (insert his company website here) and or contact/email me on FB.

Cheers,
(insert his first initial, last initial here)”

NOW we’re talking! I loved the extra info. And a girl LOVES to hear she’s stunning and beautiful.

I was listening…

I loved the mini-pitch of who he is (an architect, huh?), and that he gave me extra links to look up (ie – stalk) him online.

Winning!

So, naturally, I stalk.

Before I even consider responding, I jump to his website.

Oh! Very nice! I see pics of his portfolio from some projects he’s worked on and I’m immediately impressed.  I see the same picture he’s uploaded to his POF profile under the “About Us” tab for his Residential Design firm.  A lengthy bio explains not only who he is, but that he specializes in the Classical tradition, with special emphasis on American renaissance period between 1880 – 1930.  He’s LEGIT!

I remember that I had listed “Interior Design” as one of my interests on my POF profile, because this stuff fascinates me.  I’m immediately intrigued.

So then I stalk him on Facebook, and after jumping over to my FB app to type in his name, I find we already have 10 friends in common here in Los Angeles.  Whoa! That’s gotta be a good thing, right?

So I respond to this very patient man’s message and let him know how glad I was that I didn’t have to stab my eye with a pencil (j/k).

I loved his note, told him I was interested and then gave him my digits.

I ended my note with:

“PS – If this works out, will you build me a house?”

Joking, of course, and a few hours later I receive a text from him.  He announces who he is and that yes, if this works out, he’ll build me a house. :)

I smiled, took a quick trip down Fantasy Lane to pick out some fabulous drapes, beautiful paint choices and shiny slabs of granite, and then went about my business.

Next step: a phone call. After that? A date…

Mr. Ab-City Surgeon

I’ve seen a lot of abs in my day.  Guys who are super cut, extremely fit, with tight abdominals that show muscles I didn’t know existed.

For some really crazy reason, I seem to attract a lot of guys in LA who are in tip top shape -personal trainers, actors, models, etc.  And all this, despite the fact that my time spent in the gym is less than a fish spends on land, but hey, they’re not complaining.

I’ve even dated a celebrity personal trainer for about 8 months and we never worked out together ONCE.  He was fine with that and totally into me.

While you have to be attracted to each other, and it’s important to live a healthy lifestyle, newsflash, ladies: curves, confidence and a sense of humor are IN.  :)

Which brings us to Mr. Surgeon.

First of all, I find it interesting that I’ve now met several men in the healthcare field recently.  The Doc, a home care nurse (two dates in now…blog coming perhaps), and now a surgeon.  Strange? Hmm. Maybe.

Regardless, I must let you know about Mr. Surgeon, a new prospect I met this week on OkCupid.  Here’s why he’s blog-worthy.

If you’ve any experience with online dating, you know that it’s a crap shoot.  There are literally millions of singles online.  A good handful of those aren’t real, and the vast majority of them are at least PARTLY fictional.  People tend to lie and/or stretch the truth about their age, height, weight, career, hobbies (would everyone stop tying to pose as a world traveler? Please, Jacque Cousteau, you really don’t travel that much.)

So when I see a profile that has outrageous claims, immaculate pics and a lengthy description filled out for each section of his profile that’s also 99% free of any grammar or writing errors, too?!?!?!, I immediately put up skeptical antennas.

So I come across Mr. Ab-City Surgeon recently, who earned this name due to one of his pics in a Halloween costume.  He’s wearing a bow-tie and cuffs, sunglasses, pants and Calvin Klein underwear, which I can see the tops of because he WASN’T WEARING A SHIRT!

He was, however, wearing his abs, and the definition was pretty ridiculous. No shirt needed.

It immediately reminded me I had to do laundry.

Now, again, I’ve seen plenty of washboards in my day, but this guy was also donning a big, bright smile.  My weakness. I LOVE happy people.

I further flip through his pics and see him (with clothes) in scenes at the beach (ok, well, he did have his shirt off there, too), a few with his gorgeous chocolate labrador, one flexing on some rocks by the ocean (hello, biceps, too), and one of my favorites – him scaling a glacier. Sure, why not.

But that was all just icing on the cake, really.

I skip to read his thoroughly well-thought-out profile and it only gets better.

He’s a surgeon.

And a personal trainer.

And a volunteer.

And wants to start a business.

And a Christian.

And…totally cute, and funny, and charming, and HAS TO BE FAKE.

I mean, come ON!

I’m so intrigued and fascinated that I decide to send him a message.

Typically, I will view a profile and see if the guy checks me out in return (they’re notified).  And if he does, I let him decide to send me a note or not.

However, there are the rare few who inspire me to write something clever and witty, in hopes of sparking a conversation.

That’s it.  Mr. Ab-City Surgeon was getting a message.

Here’s exactly what I wrote him:

“(insert his name he left in his profile)…

Your profile can’t be real….lol!

I’ve seen a lot of online dating profiles and yours is pretty outstanding. It started with your adorable dog, then the Instagram pics that’d make most pro photogs jealous, then the line of “…Although I love doing surgeries…”, followed by the abs and bowtie, glacier climbing and “Christianity and very serious about it.”

I mean, really? You’re a total catch! If you’re trying to destroy that already high bar of expectations women have in LA, you did it with flying colors. Very nicely done, sir. :)

Please tell me you’re single because your awesome life simply doesn’t allow you time to find an awesome woman counterpart (which is prob why you’re here on OKC). THAT I would believe.

Regardless, it’d be great to get to know you if you’re interested.

Cheers and best of luck in your search!”

And off I sent it.  Into the ethers of OkCupid and the Internet to see if the man would:

A.) look at my profile, and
B) respond.

I gave it a 20% chance that he’d respond.  I know this “type.”  He hadn’t been online in a few days, so I knew he wasn’t active.

I was so impressed by this dude that I posted about it on Facebook. (Hello to my friends who I’m connected with there and saw that post!) I asked them when they thought he’d respond.

And one of my girlfriends predicted three days…and wouldn’t ya know it? THREE DAY LATER, he responds to my message!

HOLY EXPLETIVE!

I about lost my mind when I saw the blue, blinking notification come across my phone.  “New Message” on OkCupid from (insert his profile name).

After I got done flipping my s*** for a good two minutes, screaming and freaking out, I regained composure and checked his message.

Much to my surprise, not only did he respond, but it was the beginnings of a legit conversation!

He said:

“LOL! You’re too funny, (insert my name here)…and yes, my profile is very real :-)

I actually joined okc a few years ago after a friend of mine encouraged me to, then I got tired of it so I took a break from it for a while. My work/projects have definitely contributed to my single status but mostly I just haven’t quite crossed paths with the “right one” yet. I’d be lying though if I said that I didn’t appreciate having my “Single” card. Ha! How long have you been in LA?

- C”

And there ya have it.

I responded accordingly, stating that I was glad to know I made him laugh….and that he’s the real deal.  I replied with a few other questions and sent it off.

So now we wait, some more.

Either he’ll never respond again, he’ll respond with a few more questions and eventually want my number to talk and/or meet up, or we’ll get married.

Statistics say it’ll land somewhere in the middle and I’m going in with zero expectations, as I do with every new introduction I make.

I’ll be sure to keep you posted on this one.

That’d be hilarious if he was a heart surgeon.

The shenanigans continue…

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