Friday, April 29, 2016

Dating Diaries: What's that smell?

I recently matched up with a guy on a dating app that was super witty and funny. He was also very direct, which I really liked. We shall call him Frank. (Obviously not his real name). Frank and I chatted it up for a few days via the app. Things were sailing smoothly and Frank asked if he could take me to dinner.

I paused to think about this.....

Stats on Frank:
Originally from the East Coast.
Moved to California to pursue his passion of screenwriting. (Bonus points for his film actually being in production as I type).
Has a great relationship with his mother and siblings.
Currently works as a physical trainer. (Bonus of a fit body).
Is "Artsy" and creative. (Has sold a few of his paintings via an Art Gallery downtown).
No mention of height on his profile (Downgrade since I am in fact a height snob)
Only 3 pictures on his profile, one being a black and white, another of a dated looking head-shot, and a distant shirtless/workout photo. (This could be a disaster).

I decide to give Frank my phone number and tell him that he should call me. Frank says that he's going to call me at 7 o'clock. I keep my fingers crossed that he has a personality and is just as humerus during conversation as he is behind a keyboard.

 Come to 9 pm that night and no word from Frank.....

I end up getting a missed voicemail from him saying that he broke his phone and was hoping that it wasn't too late to call.... I appreciate the follow through (better late than never).

Cut to the next day, Frank does indeed call me and we have a nice conversation of about 25 minutes. He was very funny and charming and asked if he could take me to dinner. I told him I was free that upcoming Sunday. He took charge and said that he would find a restaurant close to both of us and text me with the spot. A man with a plan, I have to say I am impressed. Way better than "Netflix and Chill".

The next morning I wake up to a text saying "We are going to Firefly on Sunday at 7pm for dinner. Way to go Frank!

D day deets:
I am running a few minutes behind and text Frank that I am just parking. He texts back "Great. I'm here, got a table in the back".
I walk in to the very dimly lit restaurant to find Frank in his beanie and hoodie....

Let me just pause for a moment to say that I get that this is L.A. and everyone is "hipster cool" but we are on a date here. I didn't just roll out of bed and throw on a sweatshirt, leggings, and uggs, so please put in soooome effort here and try not to look like the teens in the opening of "Clueless".

I greet Frank and he sits down in the "lounge" area of the restaurant. He sits on the couch close to a few other people and I am perched awkwardly on an ottoman with my purse resting on my lap and a low table placed between us. The seating is ridiculous. I look and feel like I'm on a job interview.

Our waitress comes over and we each order a drink. Frank launches into the car salesman. You ladies know what I am talking about when I say "Car Salesman". It's the sales pitch every dude goes into on a first date. He talks himself up non-stop, controls the conversation, hypes himself up, all to get you to buy. I can't help but start to become bored.... That's when I start to look around the restaurant. It's pretty cool with it's dim lounge of bookshelves and outdoor patio lit up with pretty lights. This place could be pretty cool if it wasn't for that god awful smell. What is that smell? Is it fish? Has something gone bad in the kitchen? No bueno the funk is for real.

Frank notices that I am zoning out and asks me if my back is hurting perched up on the ottoman? I tell him it's a bit uncomfortable. He pulls a smooth move and says to come sit by him on the couch, where it's more comfortable. I oblige. That's when it hits me FULL FORCE. The stink, the smell, the stank.... is in fact Frank. Gahhhh!

Let's just recap here:
Man with a plan

Not impressed aesthetically
Smells bad

Now that I have indeed located the source of the smell, I am trying to pinpoint exactly what it smells like.. I conclude that it is a mixture of sour milk and dare I say weed. I try not to jump to conclusions here. I know that Frank is a personal trainer. Maybe he just finished up with a client and didn't have time to shower. This could explain the slob look as well. Maybe his last client was Snoop Dogg, which could explain the weed factor. This is L.A. after all. You never know.

After finishing our one and only round of drinks, Frank orders water. It hits me that we are not switching tables, we are not getting dinner, and we are not going to continue drinking. Of course not. Frank is no longer a man with a plan. Frank is however a man with several funny stories to tell. He tells me a few that are literally cracking me up so hard that I almost pee my pants. THAT funny.

Frank then mentions that the bathrooms at the restaurant are unisex. My response is "cool".

He then proceeds to ask me if I want to go to the bathroom with him.

I tell him, "No I'm good. If you have to go, go right ahead". He says that he doesn't have to use the restroom but says that it would be 'so funny' if we walked in there holding hands.....

Again I tell him, "No dude, I'm good. I'm not going to the bathroom with you".

At this point I am trying to find a way out of the date. I can't escape via the bathroom because if I excuse myself to the restroom, homeboy will follow me in there like a lost puppy. What a predicament.

Somehow during my plot of escape, the conversation topic became 311. Yes, the band 311. For those of you that don't know, 311 was a popularish band in the 90's. They infused funk, reggae, heavy rock, and rap, and most of their lyrics were probably written while they were high as kites. They make that much sense. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was totally into 311 and I was totally in 7th grade at the time and didn't know any better. Based on the fact that Frank is STILL a 311 fan and goes to their concerts (sidenote who even knew they still performed?) I determine that Frank is in fact a pothead.
I am not "down". Haha, sorry bad 311 pun.

Frank lets it slip that he has sleeping problems. I use this to find out for sure if he likes to spark up the Mary Jane. I ask if he takes anything for it, you know, like Melatonin. That's when he says "Oh, I smoke". Ding ding ding. Guilty! Another midnight toker on my hands. Drugs including weed are a major no no for me. I even mention this on my profile and distinctly remember telling Frank I'm not into any of it during our phone conversation. It's just a deal breaker for me. I would like to take this opportunity to say if you are into it, that's fine, I won't judge you. I am not claiming to be a prude nor am I saying that I have not ever smoked. But again let me reiterate I am not in 7th grade anymore.

 That's a wrap. This date is officially over. Frank pays. We walk outside to the valet stand. Frank asks me where I parked. I said the valet. He then tells me that he parked 5 blocks away. "Oh" I say. So in conclusion I assume all of Frank's money went to his weed score instead of this here dinner and $5 valet. I start to wonder if Frank even has a car. It doesn't matter. Frank smiles at me and that's when I see his teeth. Now under the light of the streetlamps, his teeth are rotted on one side. It wasn't rotten milk and weed that my sniffer sniffed out, it was rotten teeth and weed. I should be a detective, I swear. As if all of this wasn't disturbing enough, Frank goes in for the kiss..... the horror, the horror. Not to worry though, along with my amazing detective skills, I'm also a pro at dodging bullets. He gets a light tap on the shoulder and the cheek turn.

The valet pulls up with my car and Frank asks me out again. I give him my best fake smile and I tell him to call me. Bottom line fellas, when you ask a girl out to dinner, show up clean, dressed in daytime clothing (not your pajamas), and buy her dinner. I will give Frank this, he is a very funny guy with amazing ideas and talent. But much like 311, As soon as I get into my car, Frank is a thing of the past. A distant memory. So long Frank.

Stay tuned for more dating diaries. Until next time. XOXO

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Pillsbury Cheese Rosemary Crescents

If you know me at all, you should know that I'm all about bread and I'm all about cheese. Throw those two together with a dash of Rosemary and you get a touch of heaven in your mouth. I'm not kidding!

I tried out this recipe from Pillsbury and my taste buds were greatly appreciative.

You'll need:
2 tbsp Rosemary
I can Pillsbury Crescent rolls
4 sticks Mozzarella cheese sticks (cut each stick in half to make 8)
1/4 cup Parmesan cheese

Step by Step:
1. Heat oven to 350°F. Spray cookie sheet with cooking spray or line with cooking parchment paper.

2. Separate dough into 8 triangles. Place 1 piece of string cheese on wide end of each dough triangle. Sprinkle each piece of string cheese with 1/4 teaspoon rosemary and 1/4 teaspoon Parmesan cheese. 

3. Roll up each, starting at shortest side of triangle, gently wrapping dough around filling and rolling to opposite point. Make sure to tuck in sides as well to decrease chances of cheese oozing out. Place on cookie sheet. 

4. Top each crescent with some of remaining rosemary and Parmesan cheese.

5. Bake 12 to 14 minutes or until golden brown. Enjoy!  

Until next time

Sunday, April 24, 2016

Dating Diaries tidbit: Why can't you find anyone?

When you see someone that you know on a dating site and they ask you, "Why can't you find anyone?"......

Be honest and tell them the truth :) (Especially if their profile states "honest women only").