Lifestyle
L.A. Affairs: I told him I liked him. 'Why do you need so much male attention?' he asked
I was hanging out with my friend Patrick, comparing notes on our dating lives. We were talking about red flags and whether we had any.
“Well,” said Patrick, “I feel like I’m sort of an aerospace cliché. … I’m an engineer, I drive a Subaru and I rock climb.”
“How is that a red flag?” I asked. “That sounds more like a humble brag.”
“Well, then, what exactly is a red flag?” Patrick asked.
“A red flag,” I said, reading from Reddit, “is a warning sign that a person may be dealing with a toxic, manipulative or psychotic person.”
“So what’s your red flag? Do you think you have one?”
We all have unsavory parts of ourselves, those internal demons we try to corral and keep out of public view. But now and then, one of those demons sneaks into the outside world, plants a red flag and screams out maniacally, “Dwaaaagaahaha!”
“Actually,” I said, “I might have a red flag.”
I told my story light and airily, but it was heavy when it happened.
I’d been in a rut with dating, feeling as stagnant as the 405 Freeway on a Friday afternoon. It was time for a new hobby.
“How do you like rock climbing?” I asked Patrick.
“It’s great,” he said. “One downside, though: It’s pretty male-dominated.”
I was sold.
I joined my local climbing gym, prepared to meet my future climber boyfriend.
I noticed him within days. He was an amazing climber but nonchalant about it; hot but unassuming; and mysterious but straightforward, according to my tarot cards.
It took a couple of months for him to realize I existed, but eventually he did. I was belaying my friend when he came over and said the word, “Hi.”
I waved awkwardly, too nervous to speak.
“So,” said the dreamboat climber man, “you really need to have both hands on the rope when you belay. It’s not safe the way you’re doing it. You’ll get in trouble with the gym staff.”
I nodded, mortified. And for the next month, I avoided eye contact with him, waiting for the humiliation to subside.
We later spoke again, and out of nowhere, he asked me to climb. We climbed, went out for drinks and climbed more, and suddenly not only were we dating, but we were going on climbing adventures together. I followed him up a multipitch route in Idyllwild, rappelled down a sheer cliff in Joshua Tree and then had the most daunting adventure of all … a conversation about “us.”
We were driving from Joshua Tree back to L.A. “I really like you,” I said.
He let out a long exhale, his eyes focused on the road. An excruciating pause followed, pregnant enough to suggest triplets. “You have a lot of red flags,” he said.
My chest tightened.
“It’s weird you have so many guy friends,” he continued. “And weird that you’re friends with your ex. Why do you need so much male attention? It’s a huge red flag. I mean, haven’t you seen ‘When Harry Met Sally’? There’s always going to be some level of attraction between you and these guys, whether it’s one way or both ways.”
I argued against this point, and he argued back. We spent the next hour talking in circles, getting nowhere — all while stuck in gridlock on the 10 Freeway headed west. Being stuck in traffic felt metaphorical.
Once we got onto the 91 Freeway, the traffic smoothed out, and so did my flow of thoughts. I wanted us to be on the same page, and so I convinced myself that he was right. By the time we hit surface streets, I’d become a surface-level thinker. My main goal was to save the questionable, fragile relationship, whatever the cost.
I distanced myself from guy friends and told my ex we should end our friendship. He was outraged. “We’ve been friends for 10 years. I’ve known you for 14 years. And you’re cutting me out? Do you know how hurtful that is?”
I did, but I cut him out anyway. I was so desperate to make things work with the dreamboat climber man.
One afternoon, Patrick asked me to climb. I hadn’t seen him for a while because I was trying to limit my time with guy friends. But I wanted to catch up with him and didn’t think it was a big deal.
Then the dreamboat climber man texted me to see what I was up to. When I said I was climbing, he texted back, “Who are you climbing with?”
“My friend Pat,” I replied, choosing the gender-neutral version of Patrick’s name.
“Is Pat a guy?”
I cursed at my phone, and a parent scolded me, gesturing at the youth competition team.
“Yes,” I texted back. “But it’s completely platonic. Or should I say … Patonic.”
The text exchange and horrific pun triggered a huge fight. Things didn’t work out. I had wanted them to, but in the weeks that followed, I got burned out trying to navigate our endless thorny conversations. By the end, I was exhausted and ran into some depression. Not only had we ended our relationship but I had damaged important friendships and lost my grip on who I was. I was ashamed. The question I kept asking was: “What’s wrong with me?”
I stopped climbing for a while and instead went hiking, often by myself.
The sun was low in the sky when I reached the summit of Mt. Baldy. I was the only one there, with the whole peak all to myself. Looking out at the mountains, I had a moment of clarity.
My climb that day was for me, and no one else. I didn’t need the acceptance of a dreamboat climber man, molding into an unnatural shape to fit someone else’s needs. I just needed to be myself. And if that’s a red flag, I’m not afraid to wave it.
Dwaaaagaahaha!
The author is an L.A. native, writer and yoga teacher. She’s on Instagram: @taytay_eff
L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
Lifestyle
Shy on the dance floor? Virtual reality ‘partners’ aim to help you find your groove
Entrepreneur David Huang tests out a VR headset while conducting demonstrations of the social dance lesson app Dance Guru at the Augmented World Expo in Long Beach, Calif., June 17, 2026.
Chloe Veltman/NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Chloe Veltman/NPR
Wedding season is in full swing, bringing with it a familiar sense of dread for anyone who fears the dance floor.
But relief may finally be at hand with the help of a new app, Dance Guru, and a virtual reality (VR) headset.
The social dance instruction app transports users to a spacious, digital dance studio. Waiting inside is a computer-generated coach: a handsome, male avatar wearing a shirt open to his navel. He speaks with a slightly gravelly English accent.
“Watch me now,” he instructs at the start of a waltz lesson — which NPR tried out at the Augmented World Expo in Long Beach, Calif., an annual conference showcasing the latest developments in virtual and augmented reality.
The avatar then demonstrates a basic box step.

From there, the lesson becomes interactive. The coach tells the user to hold his hand while an electric pinging sound tracks the student’s foot placement.
“One, two, three, four, five, six,” the virtual teacher counts down.
When the user stumbles, he remains remarkably patient. “Do not worry, foundations take time. Let’s try that again. Work on grounding your steps more intentionally.”
Solving the beginner’s dilemma
Dance Guru creator David Huang said he came up with the idea for the app a couple of years ago out of frustration.
“I always wanted to learn to dance and I was always terrible at it,” Huang said. “And I always ended up stopping midway through the lessons.”
He soon realized that many beginners hit the exact same roadblocks.
“Private lessons are too expensive, and you feel like you’re always forgetting the dance steps,” Huang said. “You cannot find a partner to dance with. So I figured maybe I can create something like this.”
The Dance Guru platform currently offers tutorials in salsa, bachata, waltz, and cha-cha, in both lead and follow modes. To make the digital instruction feel authentic, Huang used motion-capture technology to record the movements of real-life dance teachers — with their permission.
Building on the legacy of online tutorials and video games
Dance Guru belongs to a small but growing wave of apps using VR to demystify social dance. At a nearby booth, conference attendee Victor Chen is testing out a competing app called Trip the Light. It currently offers salsa lessons, as well as freestyle options, where a user can dance with a partner without having to learn specific steps.
Trip the Light’s booth at the Augmented World Expo included posters of the app’s virtual instructors. Real-life performers, who gave Trip the Light permission to motion capture their movements, were used as a basis for these avatars.
Chloe Veltman/NPR
hide caption
toggle caption
Chloe Veltman/NPR
“A lot of times when you’re trying to learn a choreography, it’s watching a YouTube video and you have to pause it, rewind, and play it,” Chen said. “If you were to have a virtual avatar dancing in front of you and correcting for any parts that you missed, it might be a lot easier.”
Interactive video games like Dance Dance Revolution and Just Dance, and YouTube tutorials have been helping people improve their skills in private for years. But those games are mostly aimed at solo players. Unlike the new generation of immersive VR apps, they cannot simulate the mechanics or confidence required for partner dancing on a live dance floor.
The reality check
But this kind of app won’t work for every dancer.
“Everyone learns a little bit differently. And so unless you have a game that has lots of different ways of teaching, you’re going to have things that work for some people and don’t work for others,” said Ariana Katana, a trained contemporary dancer and dance content creator who’s active on YouTube, Twitch and other platforms. “Also, it’s hard to dance with a headset on.”
And then there’s the issue of not being able to physically feel a virtual partner’s hand or shoulder while dancing with them. Patrick Ascolese, the creator of Trip the Light, said the experience could become more tactile in the future. “Haptic suits and wearables will be coming, but I think we’re a little away from that,” he said.
Ascolese said even with their limitations, immersive tools like Trip the Light have immense potential as judgment-free training grounds — giving reluctant dancers the baseline confidence they need to eventually step onto the dance floor with real partners in the real world, including at weddings.
“Just like anything else, practice makes perfect,” said Ascolese. “So the more time you spend in VR with a virtual partner, it works towards helping you get over that social hurdle. We are teaching you the moves that you have to do in order to go out and have fun.”
Jennifer Vanasco edited the broadcast and digital versions of this story. Chloee Weiner mixed the audio.




Lifestyle
How to have the best Sunday in L.A., according to Deidre Hall
For half a century, Deidre Hall has taken on every kind of disaster in the drama-packed town of Salem, Ill., as a star of “Days of Our Lives.”
There was the time — actually, it happened twice — when her character, Dr. Marlena Evans, was famously possessed by the devil and even levitated.
In Sunday Funday, L.A. people give us a play-by-play of their ideal Sunday around town. Find ideas and inspiration on where to go, what to eat and how to enjoy life on the weekends.
Or the time a serial killer, who was actually Marlena under hypnosis, seemed to kill several beloved characters. The long-running show’s storylines have become legendary, and in March, while promoting “Hail Mary,” actor Ryan Gosling even gave Hall a shout-out, admitting he was a fan, praising the hard work of soap opera actors and calling her an “OG acting inspiration.”
But Hall’s real life in Santa Monica is much quieter than her character’s, and she likes it that way.
“When I bought my house in Santa Monica, I didn’t realize how great it would be to live near Montana Avenue,” says Hall, 78, about the popular shopping spot. Every day, she walks to the main street with her golden retriever, Riley, and enjoys Pilates, art and good food along the way. “The owners of the Farms Market even keep dog biscuits, so guess where the dog wants to go every time we walk — the Farms, of course,” she says, laughing.
When she isn’t filming the daily soap opera, which airs on Peacock, Hall enjoys raising monarch butterflies, exploring the shops and restaurants on Montana, and hosting movie nights at home with her two sons.
Here’s what a perfect day in L.A. looks like for her.
This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for length and clarity.
7 a.m.: Breakfast and dog walk
I usually kick off my day with a protein shake, feed our golden retriever and take her out for a walk. She’s a phenomenal girl. When we adopted her, her name was Riley, but I did think about naming her after Mrs. Hughes from “Downton Abbey.”
10 a.m.: Church and garden time
After I walk the dog and go to church, I like to spend some time in my yard. I’m not a natural gardener, but I really enjoy it. I started raising monarch butterflies because my identical twin sister, who played my twin on the show, planted a butterfly garden. Monarchs are amazing because they are transitional. Every year, they travel from Mexico to southern New England, but it’s getting harder for them. Their numbers have dropped by about 80%. To help, I plant milkweed, which is what they need to survive. I buy my milkweed from the Staghorn Garden on Wilshire Boulevard in Santa Monica. Julie, who owns the nursery, is delightful and has a wide variety of milkweed. The monarchs always seem to find my garden. Julie was raising some caterpillars too, and she cared a lot about them. We talked about how important it is to help the butterflies. That’s why I do this. Sometimes I get milkweed with eggs already on it, and Julie knows her butterflies are going to a good home.
1 p.m.: Walk to Montana Avenue for some lunch
I live near Montana and love taking long walks, going to Pilates and trying out the great restaurants nearby, like R+D Kitchen and La La Land. I’m a big fan of the waffles at the Courtyard Kitchen. Just a few days ago, I had a chicken salad on raisin bread with an Arnold Palmer, and it was delicious. It is right on Montana and has a nice outdoor seating area. It’s one of my favorite spots. La La Land always has a long line in the morning, which is perfect if you want coffee. They serve coffee, doughnuts, croissants and avocado toast. There’s plenty of outdoor seating, and you can even bring your dog.
2 p.m.: Peek inside a clock shop
There’s a small clock shop on Montana Avenue that’s closed on Sundays, but if you walk by, you’ll see all kinds of clocks — standing, table and wall clocks. The owner is great at fixing them. Once, I bought a wall clock from MacKenzie-Childs, but it didn’t work. And I was really upset because it matched everything else on my countertop. I brought it to the owner and said, “I love this, but I can’t make it work.” He fixed it right away. His name is John, but I call him Geppetto. And we all know why. He really does have a magic touch.
2:30 p.m.: Visit a neighborhood art gallery
Ten Women Gallery is run by 10 artists, all of whom show their work there. I was drawn to some watercolors there, bought a few cards and spoke with one of the artists. She told me, “You seem to love watercolors,” and mentioned that the artist who painted them, Pamela Harnois, lives in Los Angeles and teaches nearby. I got Pamela’s name and found out she taught at the Brentwood Art School. I was so inspired by her gift that I started taking private lessons with her on Saturdays. That gallery is where I discovered my love for watercolor painting.
3 p.m.: Grab some ice cream at Rori’s
The other day, my longtime girlfriend wanted to get ice cream and told me, “We are walking to Rori’s Artisanal Creamery.” It’s a small shop on Montana near Lincoln. They make everything themselves, using local ingredients from grass-fed cows with no added hormones. The place is family-owned and probably has the healthiest ice cream you’ll find. They switch up their flavors often, but my favorite is the salted caramel.
6 p.m.: Family dinner and movie night at home
R+D Kitchen is always packed, so my sons, who are 31 and 33, do the cooking. They come over, and together we make salads and cook dinner. There’s a neighborhood grocery store called the Farms, off Montana, a small family-run place that has everything we need. Everyone knows each other there, and people bring their dogs. We try to have movie night every Sunday. Sometimes the day changes, but we always make sure to have one night a week where we cook a meal and sit down as a family. Keeping that tradition has become really important to us. My sons are great cooks, which is funny because they definitely didn’t get that from me. [Laughs]
9 p.m.: Take Riley for one last walk and visit neighbors
After dinner, I take my dog for a walk. It’s a great way to meet neighbors. We always go around the same block. We’ve met so many people, and since she’s a golden retriever, she loves meeting everyone.
10 p.m.: News, knitting and bedtime
I am a news junkie, so I usually watch whatever is on the news before I go to bed. I have a long-standing passion for knitting. Lately, though, the news would make me drop a stitch.
Lifestyle
Iris van Herpen Reaches for the Stars
For Iris van Herpen, couture is a laboratory as much as a runway. Our chief fashion critic, Vanessa Friedman, takes us inside this Dutch designer’s latest Paris show — from sci-fi-inspired gowns to an audacious attempt at a dress made of charged plasma.
-
Colorado2 minutes agoColorado mountains could see near-record temperatures as heat dome develops over the West
-
Connecticut9 minutes ago
I moved from Connecticut to the South chasing a cheaper, simpler life. It wasn’t at all what I expected, so I moved back.
-
Delaware10 minutes agoNew information on “sophisticated cybercriminal attack” against Delaware County
-
Florida17 minutes agoNW Florida authorities make two more arrests in murder case
-
Georgia24 minutes agoHow Georgia football can make sure they are the defining program of the 2020s
-
Hawaii27 minutes agoFilipino dignitaries embrace RIMPAC hospitality amid outside protests – Hawaii Tribune-Herald
-
Idaho32 minutes agoFollow the clues and find $15,000 in East Idaho's biggest treasure hunt yet
-
Illinois39 minutes agoReal estate sales in Peoria, Tazewell, Woodford counties for July 11, 2026