Asking aint getting.

Happy Tuesday,

Somehow it seems I am being buried under a pile of small-talk text conversations eliciting unpromising potential dates. Somehow? Oh, right. I signed up for this. It’s amazing how one night, hunched over your a plate of tofu kale stir-fry and your work laptop, which should only be used for work purposes, you can feel like the belle of the ball, impressing the Tarleton twins and everyone else who has rated you at least 4/5 stars with your biting wit and your seeming easy-going, relatableness, and the next day you are wondering why the hell you gave your phone number to so many OkPossibles that will likely turn into OkAnnoyances or OkForThreeWeeks at best. My recent troubles are largely due to the fact that I have been out of town the past few weekends making scheduling with two OkPossibles difficult, and lengthening the Texting Before Actually Meeting Up Period (TBAMUP), directly decreasing each candidate’s Interest Liz Has in Meeting You (ILHMY) level.

As promised, I will fill you in on how things transpired with Wells after I asked him if he wanted to meet up Tuesday night in Koreatown. He texted back about an hour later saying that he didn’t know if he was free Tuesday night but would find out when his work schedule was posted over the weekend. I left it at that. He then texted me three hours later at 6:50 pm, “I have tonight off but that’s probably too short of notice.” Lack of emphasis and enthusiasm his own. First off, Wells lives in Los Feliz, basically on the other side of the world, and second of all, did he actually think that I was going to drop everything to go meet him somewhere after over a month of unsubstantial back and forward texting? Not so much. I didn’t respond. Tonight was my proposed night to hang out. I have no idea if he is free or if he’ll make contact but I am officially scrapping this Tinderance.

On project End Things With PP, I’ve done well! He texted me Thursday night to see if he could come over and I turned him down. I might have failed to mention that the last time PP was over, the night before Halloween, he had to get dropped off at my apartment because he doesn’t have a car. He told me his brother would be dropping him off, but after waving at his car as he got out and it turned around to exit my complex he informed me that his mom had been in the car as well. Tubular. In cutting ties with PP I scrapped my usual delayed response and ‘make excuses every time he tries to set a date to hang out until he finally gets the message’ bit and went with a more direct tactic that worked pretty well. He has since Facebook friended me, but there has been no other contact.  Also received a Fbook message from my very first OkConnection* who I saw for about two months a year ago informing me that he had just moved to Culver. Under the positive influence of some wise friends I realized that the slight ego boost in receiving attention from OkOriginal wouldn’t merit the complications and I turned down his offer to hang out.

Another first tomorrow night. This will be with the aforementioned fellow Culver Citizen. He composes film scores aaaaaand must have shared something else with me about himself that a quick skimming of our OkC convo will illuminate. Hasta pronto.

*Upon rereading this post I must correct an error. OkOriginal was my first OkC date in America. We’ll see if any situation ever merits my diving into the Madrid archives.

When it rains it pours. And Liz gets confused.

Dearest and darlingest friends and readers,

I know I’ve been gone for a hot minute, but those of you who are on the VIP list have been kept abreast of my comings and goings. Since the last post I haven’t been on a single first date, but I have progressed- or maybe digressed- in my relations with PP. Remember when I famously stated that I wanted to try to friend-zone him and hoped I’d never be obligated to kiss him again? Well, I seemed to have forgotten that decision the weekend before Halloween when I was a little buzzed, desiring male attention, and PP invited me to his brother’s place for a costume party. Let’s just say PP- or the Hamburglar as he was dressed that night- and I partook in some activities that completely smeared my painted-on wolf’s nose and led him to text me a few days later asking me to come over to “huff and puff, blow the house down.” Initially repelled by this creepy invitation, when a coworker had car trouble and cancelled our afternoon meeting, I took him up on the offer.

Do I regret going over to PPs when I afterwards realized that I still wasn’t interested in any type of emotional relationship with him? No. Do I regret asking him to come over the night before Halloween? No. I enjoyed the time we spent together, and was completely honest with him about not wanting a relationship…with him. Ok, maybe I didn’t specify that last part. These feelings were only magnified when he asked me to turn around because he “would look upon” me and he spent SO MANY MINUTES just staring at my face. There were also an ungodly number of kisses to my forehead and closed eyes…Think the ‘Mrs. Darcy’ final scene of the Kiera Knightley Pride and Prejudice. I may have also mentioned a list of annoying things that guys I have dated in the past have done in hopes that he would avoid them, and confessed that I am easy to annoy in general. Blanket clause on annoyances. But still. Nice guy. We talked all night and he is an interesting person. We have tentative plans to hang out next week, and I’m trying to decide if I should go to see him one more time and tell him that I’m done, or if I should just tell him over the phone. Advice? He also just requested to connect on LinkedIn, which is kind of cute, given my prior LinkedIn stalking and the fact that I oh-so-subtly hinted that I had no interest in being Fbook friends.

I’ve also jumped back on the OKC train and am talking to a cute guy who just moved to L.A. from Chicago where he went to law school and a musician who works on film scores and lives right here in Culver City. Infinite points for the potential convenience of that one. Given how much I hate driving and parking in L.A. its possible that I would commit at least three dates to someone who lived within a three mile radius no matter who they were. Remember Wells, the guy who I went on a date with early September (my first Tinder connection) and then got flakey after we made plans for a second date and claimed to have just gotten out of a long term relationship? Well he has been sporadically sending me uninteresting texts over the past few weeks. Most have been links to Arcade Fire videos and articles, because we talked a good deal about them on the first date. But then things always fizzle into dry, uninteresting texts. Unlike PP, who has gone overboard with multiple questions and comments contained in a single text, Wells is a chronic no-response-needed texter. His text an hour ago actually inspired me to write this post. At 11:48 am he asked me how I’ve been. There have been about 10 texts back and forward, his last asking me if I’ve spent much time in Koreatown lately (where we were meant to meet for the second date that didn’t happen). I wasn’t planning to throw him a bone since he’s the one who flaked last time, but I just told him I’ll be there for work Tuesday night and asked if he wanted to meet up afterwards. Stay tuned.

Tinder for Dayz

Dear friends and Mr. Internet,

I’ve been talking for a while about starting a blog recounting my illustrious dating life because some of these charming experiences ought to be archived for always. In addition to reminding myself that yes, I was invited to a blood rave mid-way through a first date and called a cat lady on another before making out with said assailant on a life guard tower in Santa Monica, I hope to keep everyone apprised of my latest dating mishaps, and eliminate the need for the “So has (Insert famous folk-rock legend’s grandson’s name here) still not gotten back to you?” question every two weeks or so. He hasn’t, friends. Lets all get passed it together.

When first I heard of Tinder I was informed that it was some type of freaky-deaky hook up app. It probably is. Mostly. But one long Labor Day weekend (this past one, to be precise) I decided to give it a try after a few friends had recounted their seemingly civilized experiences with guys via Tinder. For those of you who are not aware of the appeal of Tinder (or are reading in a group and just pretending not to know) you basically are shown a profile picture with a person’s first name, age, and the distance that they are away from you at that moment. For this reason Adan has deemed it ‘Grindr for straight people.’ You also have to sign in through Facebook (hate) so you can see if you and the Tinder subject have any friends or Facebook likes in common. In this way, it kind of takes away the creepy online dating stigma, because if someone has a friend in common with you, even if it is a girl who was in your freshmen cluster whose face you can’t really remember, they seem like a real person. You either say “Nope” or “Like” to the Tinderers you are matched with, an X or a heart, cleverly enough. If you “Like” someone and that same person “Likes” you, then a match message is generated and you know that they are at least moderately interested in having sex with you. Ice broken!!!

I currently find myself in a bit of a Tinder conundrum. Like most things in life, I grew disgusted/annoyed with the app/myself and deactivated after a day. One date did come out of the first go at Tinder, coffee at an adorable Silver Lake café with a guy who shares his first name with a major American bank chain. Yes, Wells Fargo. Dear Wells was interesting enough. He was a server at some sleek Silver Lake restaurant, was from the foreign land of Colorado, and seemed pretty laid back. But things got weird with Wells when we were trying to schedule a second date. He set a day but then got nonresponsive. I called him on it and he confessed to having just gotten out of a long relationship and was sorry for wasting my time. No big deal. Just don’t go texting me again over a week later unenthusiastically asking how I am. Oh wait. That’s exactly what he did. That is probably number one on the List of Things I don’t Have Time For. Boring text conversation that doesn’t get down to the point. Sorry about it. Xd.

Ok, ok, back to conundrum. So I deactivated. Then reactivated. In a fit of boredom. Kind of conveniently forgot that I had planned to meet up with a different guy before deactivating and gave him no word of cancellation. Yes, I know that was a shitty move. Have just been messaged by said persistent Tinderer (to be known henceforth as Persistent Pedro or PP for his key character attribute and his ethnicity #realtalk) and was kind of called out on flaking. I am redeeming myself by meeting up with him next week. I’ll keep you posted.

But before Monday, there is a Friday date. With a guy who I had been talking to on OKC (won’t degrade myself by explaining that acronym for you all) but then pulled another disappearing act after being asked out. As fate would have it, we both “Liked” each other on Tinder and if that isn’t God’s way of pulling our puppet strings on the great stage of life then I don’t know what is! So it’s second chance at a first chance week for Old Liz. This subject shall be dubbed the Red Baron- for his hair color.

Outlook for the likelihood of wanting a second date with PP: low                                                            Outlook for the likelihood of wanting a second date with Red Baron: moderate

Main motivation for going on these two dates: kharma and conversation fodder