Mr. Booty Call

Wow, where do I start?

The beginning, I suppose.

About two weeks ago I received a message from a handsome Latin lad on OkCupid.  A rugged-looking, great smile with beautiful brown eyes that sparkle.  He’s an ex-Cirque dancer who’s traveled the world and now single, living in LA and working in post-production for a large company in the entertainment industry.  He liked my profile and wanted to see if I was interested in meeting up to ‘take a coffee.’ (The broken English is very cute.)

I think he’s really great-looking and sounds interesting, so we send a few messages back and forth over the next week, and eventually exchange numbers.

Last night he texts me to see if I was available to take that coffee – he would be in my area before having to meet a friend out.  Perfect.

We decide to meet at a nearby Starbucks, and as I approach he texts “Here?” I respond that I’m crossing the street.

(Side note – texting the play-by-play the moments before arrival and meeting a stranger for the first time comforts me.  Thanks to quick texts,  you don’t have the be the dork in the coffee shop looking at every new person who walks through the door, thinking, is that them??? Are they still coming? Am I too early? Did they find parking? When will they get here?! :))

I see a man with a beard step out of Starbucks and look at his phone as I make my way across the street to yet another first date scenario.  I’m feeling excited! The anticipation of who this new person could be in your life definitely fills your head each time, moments before every first date actually happens.

He sees me walk up and we hug and say hello.  It’s the awkward, nervous moment that happens on all first dates.

“Good to see you! Should we go inside?” he asks.  Thick Spanish accent.  Nice! The beard is different, though.  He didn’t have that in his main profile pic.

We walk inside and he asks me how my day was.  I tell him it was good and he asks what I do for a living.  I tell him and he’s interested.  I then return the question and he tells me where he works.

“No way! I have a good friend who works at that company,” I tell him, and he immediately holds his head and says…”Oh no……”

Now, at this moment, we both start smiling.  The next 10 seconds will be very telling…

He asks who it is.  I give him her name and he immediately grabs his head and says, “Oh NO!!!!! You’re kidding me! Of COURSE I know her! Oh woww…..” SMH.

And then he looks at me and says, “Wait.  You and I, we’ve actually met before. At that….that, um….show, in Hollywood.”

Sure enough, we had.  The lightbulb clicked.  This man and I have met, although very briefly, several months ago during Intermission at a play in Hollywood my friend (his co-worker) had invited me to.

But THEN….it ALLLLLL clicked for me.

This was the same man who my friend had the occasional…um, meeting, with.  A casual work fling she’d told me about, with a hot Latin dancer guy who was all about the sex.

OH SNAP.  This guy is her booty call.

So at this point, we’re both extremely red in the face.  We’re laughing because it’s so awkward, and I’m DYING inside because I doubt he knows what I know. Oh boy.  What do I do now?! And is this really happening?!

So I keep quiet, and as we try to maintain composure, about 2 people who are standing near us ask if we’re actually in line or not.

We were so caught off guard.   I’m sure we were standing there like 2 idiots.  He asks if I’d still like a coffee. I say yes, and we order our drinks.

As we wait for his Passionfruit Tea to be made, we still are just laughing and shaking our heads.  “Awkward…” he says, over and over.

“Ok, right?! And what are the chances?! There are millions of people in this city and we end up meeting!” I marvel.

He agrees it’s pretty crazy, still clearly embarrassed and/or trying to figure out what info I actually KNOW about himself.

So we sit down and he laughs and says we should text her we’re here together.  I laugh and say, “No, wait.  Let’s take a selfie together and send it! She’s going to die….”

And die she did, as I sent that pic of the two of us to her phone – me, one of her good gfs, and him, her booty call – just chillin’ at Starbucks.  On a first date.

Lord, help me.  This city is too small.

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upDATE: Mr. I Want to Be Married

A quick update for those of you wondering how my coffee first date went with the guy who sent me the text message about ONLY wanting to date someone if it meant it’d lead to marriage. Rare, I know, and I was excited to see what this guy was all about.

We met on a Saturday morning for coffee in Pasadena, halfway between where he and I live.

First impression? Cute! About my height (I’m 5’9″) and nice arms.  Great smile, too.

We hug hello and then get in line to order some caffeine.

We’re at Starbucks and he’s a total Californian when he asks to have his drink made with 20 different specifics about it.  I’m more the simple, laid-back type. I order straight off the menu.

We find some chairs and a table outside and begin to talk.  He’s either kinda nervous or a bit more on the uptight side, I can’t tell.  I’m definitely laughing (and making him laugh) more than the other way around.  Hmmmm….a sense of humor is a dealbreaker for me.

So he asks me a question and as I’m answering it he interrupts me and says, “How’s your drink?”

I’m confused.  It’s coffee.  It’s good.  I ask how his is and he’s not happy.

“It’s not strong enough.  See, I like to really do things.  If I’m paying for caffeine, I really want to…..feeeeel it.”

Oh, my.

He says he’s like this in all areas of his life.  Very extremist.  Including his cleaning habits, grooming habits, working out habits and more.  He actually says he’s like OCD, without the obsessive part.  And he assures me that he doesn’t expect this of other people, it’s more just for him.

I have a quick vision of him flipping his lid cuz I left a dish in the sink for the second time, and quickly come back to reality.

He’s so unhappy about his drink that he says he’s going to go change it.  He asks if that’s ok and he’s already up out of his chair.

Ummmm, I guess.

So literally TEN MINUTES later, he comes back out after having left me sit there by myself while he went in to try and have the poor barrista fix him the perfect coffee cocktail.

He’s happier now and we continue the conversation.  I’m trying to give this guy a break, and he is actually mentioning a lot of things that I actually value and want, too.

We were in an area of lots of furniture stores and since I needed to start looking for some new things, I mentioned that IKEA was just a block away and that I wanted to check it out that day.  I throw it out there to see if he wants to join me.  He hesitates for a second, but then says that’s cool.

We walk over to IKEA, talking the whole time.  Conversation is pretty surface level and this dude is not showing me any signs of real interest or affection.  Now, I don’t need to have you kissing me within the first five minutes of a first date, but dang.  If you’re acting like my brother or just a guy friend, then I’m not so much gonna feel anything romantic-like for you.

But at this point, I’m still trying to not give up so easily (as so many people dating do) and also don’t mind killing two birds with one stone by checking out what’s new at IKEA, so we begin the maze of Swedish furniture together.

Let me tell you, if you want to know what kind of person someone is on a first date, take them to IKEA and walk through that maze together.  You’ll know so much more at the end of it.

We survived the maze, although I learned two things:

1.  I’m not really a fan of IKEA anymore, even if I want to be ballin’ on a budget for some things.

2.  He doesn’t enjoy too many people in crowds, particularly screaming children.

It wasn’t horrible, but definitely interesting.

He walks me back to my car, hugs me goodbye and says it was a pleasure.  I think he mentions something about meeting up again, but I can’t really recall.  It was a few weeks back now and honestly, I left kinda underwhelmed.

I haven’t heard from him since, and guess what? That’s ok. 🙂

upDATE: My Final Diagnosis About “The Doc”

To be totally transparent and honest, I went back on my word to not see Mr. Amazing Unavailable again, and totally saw him. A few times, actually. (You can start judging me now…)

But I swear I have a good reason… Lol.

He’s not just some guy I was seeing.

Over the last 5 months, we’ve grown close. He’s become a good friend, a confidant, a sounding board, an advisor, a teacher – and I’ve been the same for him. Beyond our chemistry, there was so much SUBSTANCE there.

I learned his taste in music and his boss’s name, and what’s been bugging him at work. I learned he loves to keep things clean and organized and separates his v-neck tshirts from his regular tshirts. He learned I’m crazy about my baby and how lately I’m missing him while he’s at his dad’s and how I start to have bad dreams when he doesn’t respond to his mother’s texts and phonecalls.

One thing that sucks about being single is that you don’t have that guy there to always talk to. Your best friend, your partner. Someone who’s ready and willing to listen to you, and is there during… life.

So you turn to girlfriends or your sister or… a blog…to communicate your feelings and hash things out.

As much as I love the above alternatives, nothing replaces that heart to heart connection with a significant other.

And this is what I had with The Doc from Day 1.  We always agreed that it was just “easy” with us.  He would call me to talk and we’d be on the phone for hours.  We fit. We clicked. And as he always would say, “We’re on the same wavelength.”

So it was easy to respond to his text to see how I was doing when I was having a bad day recently and needed to talk/vent to a trusted person.

Turns out he wanted to see me (whatta shock, Mr. Cake and Eat It, Too) but when I confronted him on his intentions, he made it clear he truly wanted to console me and catch up.

And we did.

And I actually had a very clear understanding by then of where he was. I had come to terms with the fact he wasn’t ready to entertain the idea of being a “relationship guy.”

Ok, fine. I do love our friendship, too.

So I saw him a few times more and those instances drew us closer again. On all levels.

Cut to last week…

I invited him to have dinner. I wanted to talk to him and get clear on a few things I’ve been contemplating.

I happen to work in the industry of love, dating and relationships, and allllll dayyyy longgggg I consume, organize and communicate about these topics to the world at large.

The fact that I’m living through these topics in my personal life at the same time is a coincidence, and it can get a bit overwhelming. However, it’s also allowed me to really identify what I want in my life.

And here’s an update: As much as I want to find my partner, I don’t want to find my next ex-husband.

Been there, done that. If you want a full dose of pain in your future, marry the wrong guy, at the wrong time.

Too many people spend all their time planning for the wedding, and not nearly enough time planning for the marriage.

So with all of this chatter, both inside and outside my head, I’ve decided to chill out a bit. Really, there’s no rush. Why was I making it feel like there was?? Maybe I was getting caught up in all the hype of “finding love” and the urgent chase that comes with it as a single woman in her 30s.

No. That’s not me, and I’ve never followed the path of normalcy in life.

I’ve decided I needed to chill.

The date:

The Doc picks me up from work. He’s wearing a suit and just coming from a conference with other PhDs and smart folks in his industry. I die.

But I’m looking just as good in my lace dress and heels. He dies.

We really are a great looking couple.

We have an amazing dinner at one of the best sushi spots in Los Angeles, and I watch the sun set on the Pacific Ocean to my left as we talk and laugh. And smile and flirt. Why does it always have to be so romantic with us?! Gah!

(view from our table at Sushi Roku in Santa Monica, CA)

image

We had such a good time that I never found a good time or place in conversation to bring up the conversation where I wanted to propose the idea of slowing down a bit, acting a bit more casual with us yet hoping to see if he’s on the same page of wanting to just only see each other, and see how things go. Perhaps he’d be more open to this pace, too.

So he’s dropping me off and I finally get the courage to bring it up. I tell him I love what we have now and he agrees. After I tell him my new revelation of wanting to pace myself, I ask what his thoughts are about being exclusive. And then he comes straight outta left field and tells me he’s seeing someone else.

BAM.

There ya have it.

Shocked, I ask a few simple questions to try and understand just a bit more about this man’s choices and who this other woman might be. He reveals that she doesn’t connect with him nearly as well, and not nearly as deeply…on many different levels.

Well, duh! I could’ve predicted that. After meeting so many different people over the years, it’s a special thing when you find a rare connection. Ours is very obvious.

I’m hurt but not mad. He’s totally allowed to be seeing other people. Hell, I am, too… and after all, you’re all getting the inside scoop on my dating life, not him. 🙂

So we’re sitting in his car and I’m now feeling VERY different. Yet very wise.

I’m sad for him because knowing there’s someone else now, shows me he’s really not interested in building anything special with me, or with anyone else for that matter. I also realize that as amazing as a friend as he’s become, and as close as we’ve gotten since 5 months ago, I know what i need to do…

I tell him she’s his safer choice.

I tell him that whatever happened in his past that made him so adverse to wanting a relationship and thinking he’s not adequate enough to be a “relationship guy”, is the same thing that’s going to make me get out of his car and watch me walk away.

I tell him I don’t have the jackhammer required to bust through the concrete walls reinforced with steel beams around his heart, nor do I want to put in the time and effort.

He understands. And he acknowledges this would be the case.

I wish you could see his eyes. They are full of fear and apprehension that I’m seriously about to leave him, yet softened by this man’s genuine feelings of love and care towards me.

If internal contradiction had an expression through someone’s eyes, he’d be the poster child right now.

We talk some more and I’m actually holding up ok in the tear duct department. He sees I’m disappointed but I actually have an attitude of “it is what it is.”

I tell him I’m seeing other people, too, and in fact, there’s someone who works across the street from me who’s been trying to ask me out to dinner for the last two weeks. I also tell him I was practically proposed to by someone from my past who’s re-entered the picture.

He tells me he’s not shocked by this.  He repeats “how amazing” I am. And then he’s silent.

After a pause, I ask him what he’s thinking about. He says he’s processing what I just told him.

Good, I say.

More silence.

I tell him I have to get going. So with pretty much nothing left to say, he asks if he could at least give me a hug goodbye.

I shrug and agree and we get out of the car. He comes around to my side and then gives me the longest hug of my life.

It’s not a hug. It’s an embrace. He’s holding me tight, not wanting to let go. It’s a long, freaking hug.

I wasn’t sure at the time what that was all about, but looking back it felt like it was him silently wishing he could be that guy I need, yet apologizing with this hug that he couldn’t be.

Or, wouldn’t be.

Either way, it wasn’t gonna work for me.

The hug finally ended. We look at each other and I wipe a tear away.

I told him I wish I could say “See ya later….” but I don’t WANT to see him later.

I start to walk away and he tries to make light of the goodbye and makes a joke…

“What about “Til then!” Let’s use the corporate thing.”

I stop, turn around, look at him, and just shake my head “no.” I continue walking away.

No. Nope. Not gonna happen, although I appreciate the closure I had just received.

I think that’s really what I needed to finally close the chapter on “The Doc.”

Prescription = expired. No more refills.

Facebook Is a Snitch (upDATE: Mr. Can I Get A Vowel)

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve turned into a Private Investigator and gone to social media to find somebody to stalk,… err, I mean, look at.

We all do it.

And with new dates popping up faster than the Orville Redenbacker popcorn machine at the movie theater, I’ve got to find extra info on these boyz STAT, yo!

Remember Mr. Can I Get A Vowel?

Well thank goodness he’s missing a vowel in how to spell his name cuz he was the ONLY guy on Facebook that came up in my search. How convenient!

He’s still texting me everyday, calling me “baby” (Btw, what is that with guys? I’m not your baby until we’re exclusive! Do you know how many people’s “baby” I am?? It’s getting watered down.  Ugh.), and he’s tried to see me again (I already had plans that night) .

Let’s see what this guy’s REAL story is…

His profile? Pretty barren and locked down. Most recent profile pic was from 2011, and it was one of the same ones from his dating profile.

I couldn’t see or learn anything else, really. I flipped through a few old pics in an album on the red carpet with his brother, the guy in the NBA. Meh. Whatevs. Nothing too shocking. No women in his pix, just a bunch of guy friends. He still looks good, though.

But THEN… I see it.

A picture on his timeline from 2011, a selfie of a woman he had tagged as “my friend.”

She’s a pretty Asian girl and right away I remember him saying on our first date that he has a crazy, Asian ex. Whatever that means.

So naturally I click through to her profile and lo and behold, her current default profile pic is both her AND Mr. Can I Get A Vowel all hugged up together.

Further, her cover photo is of him and her at a zoo.

Busted.

I dig deeper to find the dates these pics were taken. Turns out, it was awhile ago but she had just re-uploaded them a few weeks back. I can read a public comment thread and see her tell her aunt who commented on how cute they are together that she “loves him very much!”

Hmmm.

Either they just broke up recently and she’s not quite ready to let go of their 3+ year relationship, or they’re still together.

Either way, I ain’t the one!

Too messy. And as I told him, I’m looking for a more serious relationship. I couldn’t expect anyone to be ready to jump right back into one.

I ended up questioning him about it. He said he had already “explained” the situation me. (No, playa, you didn’t. I’m pretty sure I would have recalled that info.)

So I told him I ain’t the one, and he said he wishes me the best and that I deserve the best.

Yes. Yes, I do.

Vanna, out.

Next!

I Think I Got Proposed To…

I owe you all an upDATE from the other night.

First of all, it’s so funny how different the men all are that I’m going out with in terms of relationship readiness. They are keeping me on my toes!

Fresh off the heels of The Doc assuring me he’s NOT interested in anything serious, I meet up with this other guy – an ex, actually.

Well, not technically an “ex” as in boyfriend, but a man I’d casually dated several years ago during my phase where I was not relationship ready.

We always had a good time. He’s funny, charming and a total gentleman. The guy once delivered flowers to me after a simple misunderstanding just to make sure we were cool.

He’s financially stable, divorced for a long time and has two grown kids out of the house. He just turned 48 but looks and acts much younger.

During the time we were “dating,” this guy fell for me hard. Like, head over heels. I had some sort of a clue back then, but really didn’t know the extent of it…

One night last week, I was surfing around on Plenty of Fish and there he was! We had originally met on POF, and it was cool to see him single and available.

We exchanged messages and he said he was JUST wondering about me! How strange.

I was uber curious to see this guy again. I had changed. I was ready. Had he changed? Was he still ready? Was the timing better now?

It turned out that his birthday landed on the day after we selected to go out. Cool! One stone, two birds. We’d celebrate.

It took awhile to figure out where we’d meet for dinner. I suggested a few places and he was pretty indifferent.

Now, normally that’s not a big deal, but this is the guy who when we were first dating used to pick two restaurants before our date, and DRIVE to them each, check out the vibe and ambience, look at the menu, and actually talk to the manager to get their feedback before choosing which venue would be best.  Screw Yelp. Just ask this guy…

But, whatever, I just took it as maybe he was feeling guarded and didn’t want to extend his gentlemanly-self quite so soon. After all, I kinda rejected him and broke things off last time.

So we arrive at Bottega Louie, a nicer Italian spot downtown LA. I love this place. He had never been.

We have the “Wow, I haven’t seen you in a long time…” jitters and strangely enough we launch into conversation about dating. Online dating, dating in LA, what he’s experienced since we had last been dating, what I’ve experienced, etc

(Btw, I’ve found this conversation to be a pretty typical one with guys nowadays. Nothing too extensive but we definitely chat about dating and meeting online without any stigma. In the past? Stigma.)

So he’s actually telling me that dating hasn’t been going so well for him. That it’s been hard because he started working the graveyard shift over a year ago for his job and that makes it impossible to date. He admits he’s a bit rusty.

He also tells me he no longer believes in the institution of marriage.

Screeeech! Hold up. Say what?!

This dude HAD changed. But why?

So he proceeds to tell me about a “relationship” he had after me that really messed him up. He says he got played pretty bad by a conniving woman who wanted him to chase her for a year when he really wasn’t interested, and when he did switch from only liking her as a friend to all of a sudden realizing he loved her, she broke it off because the chase was over. Messed up. And I felt bad.

That was over two years ago and he’s over that now. But it had changed him a bit.

So I’m listening to his stories. We order a fancy Italian pizza and drinks and continue to chat.

He’s still making me laugh, in between stories and I’m enjoying his company. He’s really one of the good guys and I can still see that. I tell him I’m having a good time and it’s good to see him and catch up.

And then he drops the bomb…

“It’s good to see you, too. But as far as I’m concerned, we should be sitting at this table as husband and wife.  You should have long since been my girl.”

Ummm…. excuse me??? Did you say WIFE?! #WhatTheWhat

He proceeds to tell me that he held back a lot when we were first dating because he knew I wasn’t really interested in anything long term. He is acting timid and kinda shy and totally vulnerable now, but he continues to share his feelings.

I was “the one.”

The whole time my mind is reeling. Is this guy serious? Is it worth checking out? Maybe we should date again…

He assures me I’d be the happiest woman on the earth, that we’d be great together, and that bit was always easy with us.  We clicked.

I tell him I’m confused because earlier he had said he didn’t believe a happy marriage was in the cards for him. He cleared up that I was a different situation. I was different from all the other women he’s dated over the years.

Oh.

I begin to understand. I’m acting super sweet, caring and aware of his vulnerable state, all the while. But still processing this news…

So the restaurant is closing down by this point and the lights start to come up as bus boys clear all the tables.

It’s getting late, it’s a “school night” and I have to work in the morning, so we head out.

I drive him to his car parked farther away, and he’s making me laugh so hard by random things he’s saying in our small talk conversation. (Sense of humor is MUST for me in a match.)

He reminds me that the “ball is in my court”, he gives me a quick kiss goodbye and we part ways.

So there ya have it! The proposal-ish conversation.

It’s been 5 days since that date and I’m still not quite sure what to do. He’s definitely a different person nowadays. I suppose I am, too. There are new things about him that I don’t love and that rub me the wrong way, but I dunno… Maybe I’m sabotaging what could be a really good thing? Heck, I did it once with him already! (even though the timing was off)

And I further suppose that starting over with each other might just be a good idea. I’ll continue to date and meet other people until I figure things out.

The shenanigans of a single woman in her 30s in Los Angeles continue!

upDATE: Mr. Can I Get A Vowel

Well, life is exciting and full of surprises.

One of the things I always try to keep in mind while dating in Los Angeles is to have no expectations.  I know what I want (both in a relationship as well as what I’d like to experience while dating).  So it’s always interesting when you’re about to meet someone for the first time IRL (translation – in real life) from first meeting them online.

This blog update is about the guy I briefly blogged about here.  Catch up if you need to.  Here’s what happened:

It’s Thursday.  I get home from work, grab a quick bite and then start getting ready to meet him at the place we’d decided to meet at in Beverly Hills, The Peninsula Hotel.

First, I have to tell you how much I appreciate a man with great communication.  PRICELESS.  This guy has that part DOWN, and I’m so grateful.  I get a text from him while I’m getting ready – confirming we’re still meeting.  Nice.  Yes, yes, we are.  (One of the biggest source of nerves when it comes to meeting someone in person is the fact that they might just flake on you.  Rude, but it happens.)

I text back to confirm, but need an extra 15 mins from initially planned.  He’s cool with that, too.

I’m getting ready.  Now, as much dating as I’ve done, how “dressed” I get depends on a few things: How interested I am in the person, What mood I’m in and Where we’re meeting.  Today? Shower, hair, makeup, and a dress.  Yes, a dress.  We were going to a nice hotel lounge in Beverly Hills, after all.  I’m totally fine wearing jeans anywhere I go, but based on this guy’s pics on his profile I felt dressing up was probably a good call.

He texts me that he’s on the way.   I LOVE this text the most.  That lets me gauge how long it’ll take him to get from his house to the hotel, and how much time I need to leave my house so we arrive at the same time.  No one wants to wait awkwardly by themselves at the spot.

I look good.  I throw on my 5″ heels, too.  Hell, why not.  He says he’s 6’2″, which means I’ll be juuuuust a bit shorter than him still, even wearing heels.  #winning

He texts me again to let me know he’s arrived…he’s “sitting down.”  I am LOVING the play-by-play.

I text him “Ok…5 mins” and take off to leave, since I’m done getting ready and live just down the street.

I pull up to valet and ask the gentleman with the fancy hat and vest where the bar/lounge is.  I enter the doors and walk down the hall.  I see him out of the corner of my eye.  He’s secured a corner area, with a couch, table and a few chairs around.

He stands up to greet me with that million dollar smile I recognize from his profile pictures and gives me a hug.

He’s dressed up! He’s wearing all black – a collared shirt, black dress pants, black leather dress shoes and a Gucci belt.

Dang.  Too-Young-Tyson-Beckford has competition in the “Most Gorgeous Man I’ve Met in LA” category and I am again reminded that Los Angeles is full of beautiful people.

OMG.  He’s so hot…

I sit down beside him on the couch and for the next 5 minutes we work out the normal “first date” jitters.  We’re both nervous.  The thoughts that normally come into my head start fluttering around…

What does he think about me? Does he like how I look? What should we talk about? Is he really that gorgeous? Is this real life??

I’m normally a pretty confident chick and rarely feel intimidated, but sometimes people get to me.

He waves over the waitress (whose name he got when he first arrived) and politely asks to see the drink menu.  We both order some fancy $17 martinis and then launch into conversation.

The jitters leave pretty quickly because he compliments me early on.  He tells me how beautiful I look and that he’s glad we finally had the chance to meet. (Finally? Ummm…you just sent me our first message online 4 days ago! But I’m not complaining.  I like to meet people IRL sooner than later to determine if there’s that in-person chemistry.)

We talk about a lot – our upbringings, how much he loves his 84-year-old granny, and what his friends call him as a nickname.  (“Pretty Boy” is one of them. Big surprise!)  This is where I find out how to pronounce his name…lol.  It’s what I thought, and it’s actually a pretty cool name – even missing the vowel that should be there.  😉

We also talk about what we do for work.  This is the part that gets “Hollywood” and for those of you reading this blog who don’t live in LA, you may enjoy this part a bit more.

So it turns out his brother is in the NBA and used to play for the Los Angeles Clippers.  He was his personal assistant, which means he had a front row seat to about as “Hollywood” as you can get here (at least on the sports side of things).  Athletes are also celebrities and that life epitomizes my favorite saying, “Work hard. Play hard.”  Those in their inner circle, live pretty much the same life.

He launched into numerous tales of what it was like to have Blake Griffin and DeAndre Jordan come hang out at his house, how the hoochie mama groupies would always show up at their hotels, and how crazy that lifestyle is overall.  I’m sitting there listening, both impressed and not-impressed as I’ve had my own moments of this lifestyle in LA, including standing next to Blake Griffin in the player’s parking garage after a game at the Staples Center.  Heck, I probably saw my date at one point or another during a game.  I use to live downtown LA and my friend who works for the Clippers would always hook me up VIP style.

He also tells me that his ex was Whitney Houston’s hairstylist.  And also, was the one who sadly, found her the day she died.  Strangely enough, we were sitting just across the street from the Beverly Hills Hotel where it happened.  Talk about epic Hollywood stuff.  Once again I think to myself, “Is this real life?”

I was born and raised in the Midwest with no television or interest in Hollywood, and here I am (again), smack dab in the middle of another now-normal conversation.

More Hollywood talk and a few more stories, and it reminds me of an important question I asked him on a previous phone conversation.  I ask him again:

“So, you’re not still involved in that lifestyle, right?”

His brother ended up getting hurt, traded and out for surgery and then rehab, so it’s been awhile since he was last “out on the scene.”

He repeats that he no longer lives like that and he never really loved all of it.  He’s more of the responsible, focused, quiet, laid back and humble kinda dude.

I’m glad, and reiterate that I wouldn’t be sitting here meeting him if he was still caught up in all that.  Just not my thing.  Been there, done that when I worked in the music industry.   It gets old fast.  I express how sad it makes me feel for those women whose identity is 100% attached to being seen with a “baller” and how it’s unfortunate that they define their self-worth by being associated with these guys and do almost anything to try get their attention.  Uck.

Frankly, that’s why my date first sent me a message.  I have a part in my dating profile that says “I’m not your typical LA chick!” And it’s true.

Before you know it, two hours have passed! We had no idea! We were having such a good time chatting that time just flew by.  That’s always a good sign.

We decide to get up and walk around the hotel a bit.

Just outside the door to the lounge, I hear piano music.  OMG! I love it!

We walk around the corner and find the luxurious “Living Room”, where there is a legit older guy in a suit, playing classical music on a piano.  I almost squeal out loud because I’m a classically trained pianist and miss playing so much.  Any chance to hear it live is a treat.  He’s excited that I’m excited and wants to listen, too.  I like his laid-back and go-with-the-flow vibe.

It’s late now….about 11:30pm and there are only a handful of people around.  We find another great couch to sit at so we can listen to the guy playing piano and also chat some more, but first, I excuse myself to use the ladies room right around the corner.

I mentioned how I love his communication style, but I also love how polite he is.

One of the ways you can tell how polite someone is, is how they treat the waitstaff.  All night he’s been saying “Please” and “Thank you, ma’am”…”No ma’am…”…”How you doing, sir?”… to people around us.

He’s also SO polite that when I return from the bathroom, he STANDS up and waits until I sit down before he sits back down on the couch.  Ummm, hello, Mr. Gentleman! He was raised right and as much as a progressive, independent woman of the 21st century that I am, I LOVE old-fashioned chivalry.  It is not dead, ladies and gentleman.  It’s just rare.

At this point in the date, it’s clear he’s interested and enjoying my company.  Same with me.  I ask if I can sit next to him and he’s happy to have me cuddle up and sit next to him on the couch.  He puts his arm around me and it’s a very romantic scene, folks.   The opulence of the hotel, the chandeliers, the mirrored marble fireplace, the music from the piano….mmmm.  Nice.

So nice, in fact, I pull out my phone and grab a short video for Instagram/Facebook. 🙂

We chat more about what type of music we both like.  He likes it all – just like me.  I quiz him on giving me a few names of country artists (just to see if he’s full of it) and he comes through.  Very nice.

We’re sitting there, cuddled up a bit, our faces very close to each other.  He’s staring at me and then gives me the sweetest kiss on the lips.  Just one.  Nothing crazy.  Quite nice.  We both smile and then go back to watching and listening to this man play more Mozart.

So it’s now getting late and we both have to work in the AM, so we get up and leave to go get my car out of valet.  He’s parked nearby so I tell him I’ll take him to his car.

The end of a first date is weird.  If you’re not having a good time, clearly it’s a bit easier to just bail.  But it things are going well, what do you do? If there’s chemistry, what then? You don’t want to drag it on too much too fast, but you also don’t want to cut a good thing short, either.

So he points to where he’s parked on the street.  I pull up behind his BMW and park.

(Shenanigans Blog Bonus: I normally don’t post the “kiss and tell” parts of the story, but you’ve read this far and want the good stuff, I get it.  So here you go.  You’re welcome, ladies. And guys reading – you can stop now if you want and just know it was a good date and I went home shortly after. :))

He reaches over to kiss me goodbye and it is no longer just a quick, small kiss.  Instead he proves to me that he wasn’t lying when he said earlier in the week that he was a good kisser.  I prove him just as right, by confirming he had met his match.  His lips are SO SOFT.  Omg.

We say goodbye about 5 times and then he wants a proper hug goodbye, so we get out of my car.

He’s all smiles.  Well, we both are.  He’s a very affectionate guy and he’s holding me and looking at me, smiling that infectious smile.

I shake my head and just giggle and say, “You’re so handsome.”

He smiles back and says, “And you’re so beautiful.” Then he starts kissing me again.

So now it’s really, really late and I have to go.  But he doesn’t want to let me go.  I don’t want to leave, either.  So we proceed to stand there, in between our two BMWs, on the pretty empty streets of Beverly Hills, outside of The Peninsula Hotel, kissing.  I’m in the arms of a gorgeous, tall, charming man.

My life is officially a movie.

We say goodbye about another 15 times, and then finally, we mean it.  He opens my door and I get in to leave.  He says he’ll text me when he gets home so I know he’s safe.

And I drive away, smiling, with my hand over my mouth, saying, “OH MY GOD.  That just happened.”

Is this real life??? Yes.  Yes, it is.  🙂

upDATE Preview: Can I get a vowel?

I’ll be heading out to meet a first date tonight at a swanky hotel in Beverly Hills – a guy I met on Plenty of (Fine) Fish.

His pictures = amazing.  Model type.  Very good-looking.  A million-dollar smile.  Great fashion sense.  Suited and booted.  38.  And 6′ 2″! #swoon

We’ve messaged and texted all week and had our first phone call last night.  Conversation was pretty decent.

The only thing? He’s borderline a little too interested in me at this point and I sense a bit of red-flag danger with the texts like “Can’t wait to see you…Good morning, beautiful…I thought about you first thing this morning…(twice this week)…Hope you have a great day….If you don’t like me I hope we can still be friends…”

But, we do have a lot in common (so far) and he’s captured my attention, so I’m excited/nervous/interested in seeing him tonight.

The only problem? I’m pretty sure his name is missing a vowel and I’m not 100% sure how to pronounce it.  He gave it to me in a message and people don’t typically misspell their own name, so….hmmm.  Like, phonetically, there’s something missing at the end of his name.  Like an “A” or an “O.”  I’m pretty sure it’s a two syllable situation.  He’s apparently a Cali native (ie – born and raised in Los Angeles), so it’s nothing foreign.  I dunno.   I was too embarassed to ask when we chatted on the phone last night, so tonight will be a tad awkward, maybe.  “Hey! You…!”

I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.

Vanna, out.

upDATES: Mr. Amazing Unavailable aka “The Doc”

Disclaimer:  The owner of this blog has every right to edit this post, take it down, or leave it up, depending on how ok she is with feeling vulnerable.  If you’re still reading this, it’s because as raw and exposing and personal as this stuff is, I know it’s helping some other people relate who are also dating and looking for “the one.”  So I’m wincing, but I’m keeping it up.  And if that’s not the case for you, I hope it’s at least somewhat entertaining for you to read.  My escapades are very real. I’m very human.  And I’m very aware that is kinda crazy to share.  But, it’s here for your reading pleasure.  I also know the guy I end up with will hopefully think this blog is just an extension of how real and authentic I am, and appreciate my writings here. 🙂 As always, all names, including my own, are removed to protect our privacy.

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Over 66% of you who voted in my last blog’s poll I created told me “Yes, see the Doc again.” Half of you told me to be careful, if I did. (Again, if you need catching up about who “The Doc” is, see this blog.)

I decided to see him.

After the very clear conversation a few weeks ago with this amazing man, I knew exactly where he stood.  He “really enjoys our time together, genuinely cares for me, yet isn’t looking for a serious relationship, blah blah blah….”

That sucked.  I told him I couldn’t see him again, then.   So, it was acknowledged that we were both on different pages and it was my own risk to take if I wanted to go back on my word and see him again.  And of course, a week later, he asks to see me.

So, yeah, that happened.  Last night.  (Note: You can start judging me now.) 🙂

I was just the slightest bit curious of how this conversation of “why do you want to see me?” would go in person (turns out, BAD, very bad….keep reading), so I obliged him in making plans to go to the place where we had our first date.  Of course, it’s the most romantic place I’ve been in California so far.  A swanky resort on the cliffs off the ocean where the first time I went there I mentally said to myself, “Yeah, this would be a good place to get married to someone.  It’s stunningly beautiful.”

I first arrived at his house.  We sat and chatted, then hopped in his car to head to the resort.  He lives conveniently close to this slice of paradise.  Of course.

We valet, a nice gentleman takes my hand as I get out of the car, and we head in to the main building.  The first thing you see is a grand entrance with a view of the Pacific Ocean right in front of you.  It’s about 6pm and the sun is starting to set.  We walk onto the beautiful terrace filled with couches, seating areas and fire pits.

Wouldn’t ya know it it – there’s a freaking wedding happening.  We look below us and watch gorgeous tan people in tuxedos and elegant evening gowns enjoying the cocktail hour.  We spot the bride and groom taking pictures against the sunset and ocean in the distance.

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I bite my tongue as the reminder of how perfect a place this would be to get married almost slips out of my mouth.  Smh.  Duh! Not in front of The Doc! Besides, that’s the last thing men want to hear. Omg…please tell me I am NOT turning into one of THOSE women!

(Btw, if someone could tell me how I went from cool, confident, act-like-a-dude, no-strings-attached heartbreaker chick to imagining great wedding venues without even having a bf yet, that’d be awesome, thanks.  Cuz I have no idea who flipped the freakin’ script.)

Anyways, a lovely waitress comes up to us and offers to get us some drinks.

One of the many things I love about The Doc is that he’s super generous.  When you look up the term “wine & dine,” you see his face next to the definition.  I’m so spoiled every single time we’ve been together and he loves fine dining and luxurious experiences.  I offer to pay for things all the time, yet he NEVER lets me.   He always smiles at me and just shakes his head “no” as he reaches for the bill.  This, clearly, is every woman’s dream in Los Angeles, because it costs money to just breathe out here, and I love how he takes care of me in this way even though I could afford to chip in, pay for my part or even the both of us on occasion.  I’ve even offered to take him out places, but he just kind of brushes it off.

So he asks the waitress if they have his unique and favorite top-shelf gin.  They do and we both order different fancy, overpriced martinis.  We people watch over the wedding people below and laugh and chat about our observations.

The waitress comes back to leave the bill and I about die when he takes out his wallet.  The man has an American Express Corporate credit card right next to his annual pass to Disneyland card (for his 3 1/2 year old daughter).  I see his full name on the AmEx – “Dr. So and So” and I about lose my mind.  He’s such a cool and unassuming guy and his accomplishments so far in life always impress me (he was in college at 16 years old, PhD at 24), so to see the tangibles that make up who this man is, really gets me going.   I giggle and point out the combination of these two things in his wallet to him.  He sees my expression of confused/impressed/turned on all at once and he chuckles back – “Well, I’m also the guy who is reading ‘The Art of War’ and “The 5 Love Languages.”  Yes, yes, that’s who you are.  And I love it.  Mr. Amazing Unavailable who reads books about relationships yet doesn’t want to be in one.  Gee, that’s not confusing at all. (insert sarcastic tone here)

We make our way over to a comfy couch, complete with a fire pit.  We’re chatting away and nothing has been brought up yet about what the hell I’m doing there with him, after I clearly told him I couldn’t see him again.

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We’re sitting close to each other and he proceeds to point out how great I look in my dress, how amazing my eyes are….how “one could say this is a very romantic moment….the fire, the scenery, the sunset, the drinks, the live jazz music coming from inside the lounge next to us…” Um, yeah.  Ya THINK?! We’re sitting closer now and I start to drop down my walls I had put up going into this evening.  I mean, what guy who’s not interested in anything serious takes the time to point out how ROMANTIC a moment like this is???

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We finish our drinks and then head towards one of the fabulous fine dining establishments at the resort.  It’s a new one we haven’t tried before.  We’re seated and handed our menus.  We order more fancy martinis and then a FABULOUS meal, to which we both enjoyed immensely.

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Dinner conversation is great, as always.  The man continues to impress me by talking to me about amortization tables, PMI (private mortgage insurance), the real estate market, etc.  He’s offering me advice and giving me feedback on my future goals.

After he shares some other amazing story or accomplishment, I stop him and remind him of how unique and special he is.  He humbly replies (as always) that he’s “just a regular dude.”  Yeah, ok.  No.  I make him stop eating, look at me and really hear me say how amazing he is.  I’ve met some amazing men in my life.  He’s definitely in that top 5%, and I wanted him to know.  Regardless of what ever ends up happening with us, I think it’s important to celebrate people who typically don’t celebrate themselves.

We finish dinner.  As we’re leaving, he walks up to the General Manager who was saying goodbye to dinner guests as we walked out.   The GM looks nervous. The Doc kindly reports how amazing our server was (he was really, really great) and a smile breaks out on the guy’s face.  He thanks us for coming and hopes to see us again soon.  I love how great a communicator The Doc is.  Sucha  treat.

We feel like sticking around the resort a bit more, so we walk over to another bar/lounge area and order coffees at the bar.  We chat even more but then I’m ready to leave and head back.  Still no conversation about “us” and I don’t know how to bring it up without ruining the mood.  I’m enjoying his company.

PART TWO:

We get back to his house.  He makes us very good, very strong top shelf apple martinis and we watch a comedian’s show on Netflix.  We’re dying laughing.  We have very similar styles of humor and I love laughing with this man.

Each time he refills my glass, we toast.  The first toast, he says, is to “great company…and a beautiful woman.” Skip to the third toast and instead of saying anything, he pauses, looks at me and then goes in for the kiss.  After almost 5 hours of being in each other’s company, it was overdue but right on time.

(By the way, not sure if you’ve ever launched into a make out session while you both hold martini glasses raised in your hands, but that was the longest “toast” ever.  And so nice.)

Our chemistry is undeniable and it felt all too familiar, as the last 4 months of seeing each other bubbles to the top.

We continue to watch the show.

It ends and now it’s super late.  Time has flown.  I don’t want to take any chances on driving the 45 mins it’d take me to get home, and he insists I stay there.  He’s stayed at my place before, but I’ve never stayed with him.

I knew where this was heading and soon I found myself in quite an unusual situation.  As much as I was enjoying everything, all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I started to cry.

He stopped kissing me, confused, naturally, and I pushed him away.  Then, huge crocodile tears and then the gasps of air and shoulder shrugs of sobbing followed.

I felt sadness, guilt.  We hadn’t “talked” about anything that evening, yet I knew nothing was different from his perspective.  And it all came gushing out like a rainstorm in the desert that never sees a storm.  I couldn’t stop.

Now, to fill you in on me – I haven’t cried about anything, much less a man, in a LONG, long time.  I keep shit together.  And here I am freaking the heck out.  I could have bet a million dollars that THIS was never going to happen.  But here I am, bawling like a baby, and have NO idea how to stop it.

He’s asking me what’s wrong, to calm down, that it’s ok.  But I seriously can’t stop.  And I feel like a total moron, so embarrassed that this is happening.  That makes me cry even more.  My dignity is totally shot here.

He’s now holding me and I manage to get out the words “I’m so sorry…I should just go….” I really wanted to leave but he and I both knew that wouldn’t be smart.  So I tell him I’ll go sleep on the couch downstairs then.  He’s not hearing that and says to at least sleep in his guest room then.  I needed space.  I had to get away from him.  I stumble down the hall into the guest room, still crying.

I try to keep it together and do the whole “silent cry” thing, but it just hurts too bad and he must have still heard me, so he comes in and lays down next to me.  He asks me to calm down, comforts me, etc and I eventually stop crying. OMG I am so embarrassed.

Well, no time like the present, so he asks what’s wrong, what happened and I choke through some remaining tears as  I tell him that I was simply frustrated.  Frustrated and shocked, because this was SO not typical behavior of mine.  Again, I never cry and/or get attached to guys, but THIS ONE? Yeah, clearly he got in.

I tell him how amazing he is, how it’s so incredible to share what we have and yet be on completely different pages.  How there are other men who want to pursue something serious, yet here I am with him, Mr. Amazing Unavailable.

He understands and still, true to his character, doesn’t budge on where he stands.  He says he’s just “not the relationship type of guy” and I assure him that someday a very lucky woman will make him think differently.

I actually laugh at how silly, ironic and just STUPID this situation is.  I mutter the famous phrase “taste of my own medicine” and just shake my head at how interesting it feels to have the tables turned on me this time.

It actually helps to be there talking it out with him, and even though I’m kinda an emotional mess, I get where things are logically.  It is what it is.

He’s such a cuddle bug and is holding me the whole time, sharing that he obviously cares about me because here he is, outside his comfort zone, laying next to me to talk.  That means a lot to me and it speaks volumes as to how special we are to each other.

But not special enough.

And that’s what I needed to know for SURE, for sure.

Of course, he wants to see me again.  Anytime.  We do enjoy each other’s company and have developed a sincere friendship along the way, so now I have to decide what, if ever, needs to happen there.  But that’s too much to think about right now.

In the AM we’re still on good terms.  He calls me “Baby” like he’s always done, so many times and I finally said, “I’m not your baby! Stop calling me that! lol” He answered, “I want to call you that.  It comes from a very sincere place.”

I just shake my head and smile.

I go to my car and bring back in his Bose headphones I never mailed back and leave them on the breakfast bar.

Oh, Mr. Amazing Unavailable.  It feels strange to say this, but, thank you.  You’re a complicated, beautiful story.

 

Yogurt and La Guitarrrrrra. Serenade me!

After choosing to re-schedule my movie date with Mr. Art Museum dude, I was feeling a bit bad.  It was obvious I had cancelled on him from the day before, but I did really want to see him on Sunday.  Afterall, it had been at least a few weeks since our big excursion to LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art), where we poetically postured about Picassos and such.

It was Sunday afternoon and we made plans to meet up at a YogurtLand halfway in between where we both live.  It was also the day of the Emmys, so LA was buzzing.  I was a few minutes early, so I waited in my car.  Some actor teenager kid being driven in a black Escalade rolled up next to my parked car at a stoplight and started talking to me while I was scrolling on my phone.  My window was down.  He was trying to be funny and asked if I was tweeting to him and “Liking” all his pics.  I had no idea who he was.  Random. So LA.

My date arrives.  He looks good! He’s a fashion designer so style is a part of who he is.  He wore a trendy, black collared shirt, designer jeans, cool sunglasses and dark red Mexican cowboy boots.   He gives me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before we head inside.

We catch up about what’s happened in our lives over the last few weeks.  It’s good to see him.  He’s also a substitute Math teacher who gets placed a lot in the “hood” and I love hearing his stories about putting the bad kids in check.  A teacher with a bad boy side? Yes, please.  Best of both worlds!

I didn’t feel like seeing a movie, so instead he invited me to come check out his office.  Kinda nice idea.  And very random.  But I dig spontaneity, so I went with it.  It was about 15 mins away, so we finished our yogurt, jumped in my car and headed that way.

It was a Sunday, so there was no one really around.  Other businesses next to his were closed.

Inside his office, he showed me a bunch of his paintings.  Acrylics on canvas.  Very cool stuff!

I could tell he was trying to impress me (in the most humble way), and he kept making sure I was comfortable, asking if I needed anything to drink, etc.  I could tell he was nervous, but still calmly confident.  After all, he’s in his 40s.  This is not his first rodeo.

By the way, during the whole date he’s giving me non-stop crap.  He’s flirtaciously telling me about my “game” and how I’ve really got this city exactly how I want it when it comes to dating.

This cracks me up because I never see myself as this “player” type that he’s trying to label me as.  Although, by this point, he’s very aware that I’m not a typical woman dating in LA. I’m confident, outgoing and flirtacious.  I’m not perfect, but I’m established, connected, ambitious and I know what I want.  We have spent some great time together on a few dates, but I’m not blowing up his phone or looking interested/desperate/thirsty.  He’s intrigued about me more than anyone has been in a long time, and he knows that I’m talking to and seeing other guys.

I think this drives him crazy.  He mentioned early on how I’m a “lockdown type of woman” – someone who could find themselves in a relationship easily.  With the guy I choose, obviously.

He’s also been “stalking” me on Facebook.  Even though we’re not Facebook friends and he can’t see everything I post, he DID see me upload a new profile picture from a red carpet event I went to in Hollywood last week.  He apparently loved my dress. 🙂

He says to me, “Your game is so tight, we need a referee in here.” “You know exactly what you’re doing….”

I just smile and laugh and act innocent. 🙂

So after he puts away his artwork, he grabs a guitar.  A guitar! We’re both sitting on the couch in his office and he proceeds to serenade me with songs he’s written.

Ok, now is the part where I have a Perma-grin on my face.  Any man who has any sort of musical capability has my guaranteed attention.   Turns out he can’t sing worth a hoot, but his strumming is pretty good and definitely making me smile.

We end up ordering pizza and watching a documentary about this wirewalker guy who attempted to walk a tightrope over the World Trade Center buildings.

Before we knew it, it was getting late and I had to get home.  I drove him back to his car, we smooched and then parted ways.

It was a great date overall, and I appreciate how open and honest he is about things.  I’m still learning who he is (and vice versa) and not sure if there’s real long-term potential there, but we’ll see. 😉

 

 

A Date with “Mr. Instead”

After my decision to end things with “The Doc,” I did my best to keep things as normal as possible.  Since I wasn’t exclusively seeing anyone, and still had a LOT of interest from Mr. Art Museum dude, I had little problem moving forward.

The weekend quickly approached me and before I knew it, Mr. Art Museum/Borderline-Stalker/”Really Knows How to use Google To Research Me” Guy had asked me out on a date for the upcoming Saturday.   Since he’s also an actor, writer and director (who has an IMDB account – booyah! The stalking works both ways, baby!) he’s big into films and invited me to see a movie with him.  I’m not a movie person, but the man owns 400+ DVDs and I like someone with a passion, so we agree to meet that Saturday evening to catch a flick.

Ok, cool.  We have plans.  I like having plans.  Even if it’s just doing nothing by myself, I like to know what the weekend plan is ahead of time.

Saturday morning arrives and I take my laptop to my favorite fancy spot to do some work and have some breakfast.

While I’m working, I end up having a text conversation with someone from my recent past.  A former colleague.  A brilliant, sweet, cool man who is….let’s say….”unavailable” for anything other than friendship, although someone who can look at me without saying anything and have an entire conversation just between our eyes.

He doesn’t live nearby at all but says he needs to buy a jacket and that I should be his fashion guru and help him out.  Strangely enough (not really) I wanted to go shopping that day, too! Yay! So I agree to help him out.  We make plans for him to travel the 60+ mins to get to where I’m at in Los Angeles later that afternoon.

Oh, wait.  I had already scheduled a date with Mr. Art Museum dude! Dang it!

Now, if you know me personally, I’m not the type of person who ever cancels after making a commitment. I’m impeccable about keeping my plans.

HOWEVER, I really wanted to spend time with my friend instead of Mr. Art Museum dude.  Like, really bad. I knew it’d be no pressure, we’d have a good time, he’d treat me like a woman, we’d laugh, talk about business and shop.  And at the end of the night, there wouldn’t be any pressure or expectation or extra R-rated stuff to deal with as if I were on a date with Mr. Art Museum dude who is not afraid of PDA.  And after the whole Doc situation, I really wanted that break.

So I asked to re-schedule, canceled on Mr. Art Museum and went out with Mr. Instead….instead.

And it was an awesome time! We shopped (found him a very sexy black jacket at Macys), I shopped for the things I needed to pick up, and then he took me to dinner and then drinks in Beverly Hills.  It was an AWESOME night, and at one point we even discussed over super fancy martinis how nice it was to have a friend of the opposite sex to hang out with every now and then.

We went to Nic's in Beverly Hills and listened to live jazz music.  Amazing.

Dating can be hard work.  It can place you all over the map, emotionally.  Spending time alone is good.  Spending time with my girlfriends is good, too.  But I’m getting really good at listening….and choosing…exactly what I want in my life.

This weekend I found a new category I’d like to explore, too.  Something else.  Instead. 🙂