1. My red Charlotte Olympia flip flops with the tiger on it.
  2. Big sunglasses
  3. When a man buys me flowers
  4. Allowing myself to enjoy great food. Sometimes, you just gotta say, “Fuck calories.” Life is meant to be lived!IMG_0676.jpg
  5. Nuetrogena’s cheap and cheerful Swiss Formula hand cream. I haven’t found a luxury brand that makes a better one.
  6. My privacy 
  7. Having proof of guys being assholes by documenting my conversation with a screenshot. 
  8. I love that being happy is free and accessible to everyone.
  9. Hash browns at McDonalds, a guilty but greasy delicious pleasure.
  10. Having an occasion to get dressed up for.
  11. When you stop trying to force connections that deep down you know will never work.
  12. Moon drop grapes.
  13. Ice cream sandwiches
  14. Naps in the sunlight
  15. Vintage and mismatched china for tea.
  16. Doing little treatments for myself: hair masks, doing my toe nails, fancy face creams. Sometimes I forget to do these things, and when I restart them, I realize how necessary they are.
  17. Mr Rogers, I truly think the man was an American hero.
  18. My MacbookPro
  19. Taking care of my spirit when it’s tired.
  20. The smell of night blooming jasmine.
  21. Yelp — not so much for the reviews, but I love being able to look at the pictures before I decide what to order.
  22. Realizing later on that I dodged a bullet after not getting something I desperately  wanted.
  23. Getting my period. I know this will seem odd to you, but I love getting my period. It lets me know I’m working the way I should be and I’m not pregnant. That’s important lol. 
  24. Deleting voice mails before I even listened to them — okay I probably shouldn’t admit that one, but whatever, it’s true.
  25. When you see a picture of a boyfriend’s ex and you accidentally spit on your iPhone out of sheer hilarity 
  26. Keeping my cool when I’m under pressure (like that ever happens).Image-1.png
  27. The Handmaid’s Tale, a great series on Hulu. This retelling is actually way better than the book, which I read in college.
  28. When Prince grills me chicken and we have dinner outside. There is something about those moments that make me feel very content and cared for.
  29. The way I feel after I do weights (not like I even remember the last time I did that).
  30. Getting indoors right before it starts to pour with rain.
  31. Chanel No. 5 – it’s a classic for a reason!
  32. Dancing in the bathroom
  33. Niel Patrick Harris 
  34. Consistency
  35. Seeing someone you love succeeding. Sometimes I think people forget that life is not a competition, there is room for everyone to win.
  36. New York
  37. When someone offers to make me tea
  38. Those rare people who stick around … even if you throw an epic hissy.
  39. The pancakes at Chez Ma Tante, worth a trip to Williamsburg. 
  40. Neck kisses, they give me goosebumps.
  41. Trusting in possibilities and not giving up.
  42. Coming across an amazing piece of street art by accident.IMG_0483.jpg
  43. Bergdorf Goodman’s flagship store in NYC — I cant afford to shop there, but whateva. To quote Ashley Longshore, “there’s no crying at Bergdorf’s.”
  44. Christian Louboutin’s Bianca platform shoes *le sigh* … if only…
  45. The smell, heat, texture, and taste of the freshly baked pitas my dad makes when they come straight from the oven.
  46. Taco Tuesday at Rubio’s … I love those fish tacos.
  47. When someone remembers something very minor and random I once said. It makes me feel like that a person cares enough to truly listen. There’s few things so satisfying as feeling heard.
  48. Times where I can snag enough seats on an airplane to stretch out and take a little nap in the sky.
  49. Marvis toothpaste
  50. Crumpets (I buy them at Trader Joe’s) with butter and honey. Scrummylicious!
  51. Discovering luxurious new beauty products. Right now I have my beady little eyes on two colors of Gucci lip glosses. Perhaps I’ll indulge myself in a little treat this weekend.
  52. When someone does the hard work for me — ah yes, the things I will do to avoid my responsibilities. Manipulation and bribery, it’s all good. IMG_0671.jpg
  53. Le Coucou in NYC, dreamy, delicious, and indulgent.
  54. Thunder and lightening 
  55. Ashley Longshore’s “You Dont Look Fat, You Look Crazy” — there are so many great lines in that book, but the one that moves me most is “fear is the catalyst for action.” Totally Ashley, you fucking nailed it.
  56. Talking’ the occasional shit about someone who pisses me off *shrugs shoulders*
  57. Brie de Meaux cheese. It boggles my mind why it is illegal in the US. I think it’s positively heavenly.
  58. Taking a break
  59. Free samples
  60. Long walks with my guy which end at a stop at a local Italian bakery for my favorite cheesecake ever. Prince never fails to ask me if I want cheesecake. The answer is always the same.o.jpg
  61. Days when you KNOW you look good.
  62. The smell of popcorn in at the movies
  63. Troll dolls, yes, really.
  64. Gummy vitamins, because they taste like candy but they are actually good for you.
  65. What it feels like to wake up and see someone you love right next to you. 
  66. Inside jokes 
  67. Taking a shower with the window open and being able to watch the rain outside.
  68. Knowing that despite all the hurt and horrible stuff out there, that there will always be kindness.
  69. When my stats for the month at work are on point
  70. Ridiculously large pieces of cake
  71. When someone has enough faith and trust in me to confide a secret
  72. Cute yoga clothes — not that I do yoga, but I certainly got my share of lovely overpriced gear.
  73. List writing… I don’t know, it’s just a thing for me. I like writing lists and I like crossing things out when I get them done.
  74. Sexy accents
  75. Swimming in a pool in my underwear 
  76. Lavender and Earl Grey (aka London Fog) and matcha lattes tea
  77. Checking out the new cookbook releases at the bookstore
  78. When Karma does the dirty work for me … so satisfying!
  79. Panatonne. I like it in it’s undressed form. I like it toasted with a bit of butter. I adore it as decadent French toast. Why isn’t it popular all year round? I should stockpile it.
  80. Big soft T-shirt’s that I can sleep in, the ones that have been washed many times and feel like buttah.
  81. Being made to feel included.
  82. Pet names / nicknames
  83. Credit card intro offers. I know I got over $1000 of free stuff this year without spending a penny of my own… you just got to know how to work the system.
  84. Having a full tank of gas
  85. Dulce de leche 
  86. Music that makes me feel sexy and powerful.
  87. When wishes come true in a way that is better than you could have imagined.Image-1.png
  88. Solo adventures, I love proving to myself time and time again that I can do things on my own.
  89. The feeling you get when you do something nice for someone and you can tell that they really appreciate it.
  90. Conversations so good that you are amazed when you look at the time and realize you have been chatting forever.
  91. The feeling I get at 4:59pm when I turn off the computer to go home after the end of a long work day. 
  92. The feeling I get at 5:02 when I’m in my car and I start the engine to go home  … yes, bliss. Image-1.png
  93. Genuine random compliments — giving and receiving them.
  94. When something lives up to the hype.
  95. Days where you wake up and realize you don’t have to go to work and the endless possibilities there are for fun.
  96. Being a woman
  97. My resilient heart
  98. New beginnings 
  99. True and deep friendships
  100. Commemorating milestones like birthdays and anniversaries: I love any opportunity for cake– just in case that isn’t abundantly clear. Oh, by the way, today IS my birthday, just so you know.

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Birthday kisses to you all. I love you guys.  Send gifts. I don’t mind if they are a little late. I’m cool like that.

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Every year it is my goal to visit one place I’ve never been. This year it was Mexico City. I’ll start by saying that Mexico is a very poor country. It has beautiful areas for sure, and amazing art, food, and history, but the life of a tourist in Mexico and the life of an actual Mexican is markedly different I believe. The good life is relatively cheap for a visitor, but not necessarily for the people who call Mexico home. This was my impression. Whenever I went somewhere upscale, it was mostly English that I heard. Moi does not go on vacation to rough it, so I want to say that I don’t think I had a proper Mexican experience by any means… but I did have a good one.

Lots of things in Mexico City are very inexpensive compared to the states. For one, Uber is SUUUUUUPER cheap. From the airport to my hotel it cost about $5! The same was true of almost every other ride I took. I didn’t have to worry about public transportation, because at those prices, getting around Mexico City was very hassle free and inexpensive.

Also cheap: Churros. I think out of the 5 days I was in Mexico City, I went to Chuerria El Moro three times. As far as sweet things go, that was my favorite thing I ate. I ordered mine “con canelle“ (with cinnamon). The portion is muy grande. What can I tell you dears? I need the super size portion to match my increasingly fat ass. It’s all about balance. I went to the one closest to my hotel, which is the original, dating back to 1935. Supposedly they are open 24 hours. I tested this, as any intrepid traveller would. Moi tried to get her fix around 6 one morning before hunting for street art, but the doors were locked. Piggy snout pressed against the cold glass, I was forced to return a couple hours later … but return I did. Kind of like a crack addict. Did you know studies show that sugar is more addictive than cocaine? I shit you not.

My hotel was completely fabulous. I stayed in the Historic District at a place called Downtown. It’s a lovely boutique hotel with several restaurants and fancy gift shops centered around a gorgeous open courtyard. My room was minimal with double height ceilings and old world features that went back to the 17th century from when it was originally known as the Palace of the Miravalle. I can’t recommend Downtown enough. The location was great, the rooms and the hotel are stunning, and the free breakfast … like I said, I’m looking very meaty at the moment.

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Frida Kahlo Museum: This was the main reason I wanted to come to Mexico (aside from churros). I wanted to see where my favorite human lived, painted, loved, and died. It was the highlight of my adventure. I loved walking through the same gardens that Frida was photographed in time and time again, but it’s more than that. There is something so intimate about walking through her home, seeing the studio she painted in, the bed that she lay in (it had a mirror affixed to the top so that she could paint self portraits), and her final resting place: an urn in her bedroom. The Casa Azul is a beautiful, colorful, yet elegant home in a lovely region of the city known as Coyocan. Being in her home, imagining her moving through it, entertaining in her dining room, and playing with her animals in her garden… it was just so special to me. I can see why she loved Mexico so much. If I lived at Casa Azul I’d be hard pressed to leave it too. It’s clear why she found New York so dreary coming from a place like this (although she obviously had not had the clafoutis at Le Coucou). There were some beautiful art works of hers on display too, some of which I have not seen before. The experience of being where Frida walked, of touching the structures that she may have touched, it was kind of magical for me.

Later I would go to the Mexican Museum of Modern art just to see what I consider one of her most poignant works: The Two Fridas. Standing right in front of it, I felt so much emotion, I almost cried. That work says so much to me. It’s the Frida who is her true soul’s self (holding a locket of her husband Diego) trying to comfort her second self, the wife, as her heart hemorrhages. Every woman who has ever loved a man, I think, even if she couldn’t put the words to paper, would look at that painting and totally get it. It’s amazing how I’ve seen so many photos of it, yet standing in front of the real thing was such a different experience. It had the power to move me like no photograph could.

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Ballet Folklorico: In the beautiful Palacio de Bellas Artes, every Wednesday and Saturday there is a wonderful performance by the Ballet Folklorico. It typifies what you imagine when you think of Mexico: lots of color, fun, and tons of good energy.  Watching the traditional singing and dancing will definitely make you smile. If you are visiting Mexico City, especially if this is your first time, you must go. I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did, but it was pretty freaking spectacular!

But you guys know the main reason I travel. It’s really all about the food for me. I didn’t ONLY eat churros. No, one only needs to see the way my jeans are bursting at the seams to figure that one out. There was much eating going on. MUCH.

Of all my foodie excursions, I was most excited about dining at Pujol after seeing it on NetFlix’s Chef’s Table. I just HAD to go. Even a month in advance, however, I could not get a table. There were no reservations available online, but after writing them an email, they kindly made room for little piggy Caroline. This was my first experience with a tasting menu. It was wonderful to enjoy so many little bits of deliciousness, and so many layers upon layers of coordinating flavors. It was quite a production, almost theatrical, and surprisingly lengthy, but I enjoyed every bit. This was undoubtedly the biggest extravagance of my trip. I think it cost about $160 USD, but as Pujol is considered one of the highest ranking restaurants in the world,  I feel I got a bargain — well, that’s how I justify it anyway. Let’s just face it, I don’t do dollar menus. Life is too short. Next thing you know I’ll be eating Chef Boyardee out of can — quelle horreur!!

By the way, I want to mention that I was not the only woman eating alone here. I spied at least two other female solo diners. I thought this was so cool. Nod to my sistahs who aren’t afraid to get their chow on all by themselves (I absolutely hate how women eating alone in fine restaurants is so stigmatized! Dismember the patriarchy dollies, one taco at a time!!!).

The highlights of my meal included the “street corn”  –presented in a smoke filled pumpkin– which actually had crushed ants on it (!), and the 1,874 day old Madre mole sauce. If you want to know more about the extravaganza, because it’s honestly quite fascinating and complex, check out Season 2 Episode 4 of Chef’s Table. Otherwise, here are some pictures:

Contramar was another fabulous restaurant I visited. This trendy and upscale seafood restaurant is the place to go for a  fishy feast. I had their house special, Pescado Contramar, which is basically grilled snapper with red and green sauces. It was so spectacularly fresh! This was followed a fabulous fig tart. But the thing I loved most were the tuna tostadas. They may have been my favorite thing I ate while in Mexico.

Another thing I’d totally recommend is the street food tour given by Club Tengo Hombre. Street food is very popular in Mexico City, but as a tourist only familiar with our American verision of Mexican food, I’d walk past the stalls and have no idea what I was looking at. It was actually quite intimidating. It was wonderful going with someone who took us to the best of the best, guiding us through the labyrinth. We made lots of stops which included two markets. My favorite morsel was our last stop at Taqueria Los Cocuyos where I tried a tongue taco. Simply awesome!

Well, I now have my first Latin American stamp in my passport, and I’m looking forward to more. Mexico was a wonderful adventure. I want to end this by mentioning that before going I had people warn me I’d get sick from the food/ water (no such thing happened).  I was also warned that Mexico City is dangerous (I experienced nothing of the sort). If you have any of those fears, put them aside. The only thing I can remember is some guy telling me that our president was an asshole. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I know,” I replied. He asked me for money. I gave him some change. We are lucky they don’t build a wall to keep US out.

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I have become very cautious of writing about men on this blog. I hate writing about someone and then the following week they are gone, but I have found someone who has become very special to me in a very short time, and I’m dying to spill the beans. Grab your barf bags, because I going to get sappy. I can’t help it. This one does that to me.  In the post before this one, you may noticed that I was getting pretty disgusted by the opposite sex. I always prided myself on keeping an open heart and not allowing myself to become jaded, but I think little icicles were starting to form. Back in the day when a man was acting less than gentlemanly, I’d laugh it off and continue chatting … I stopped doing that shit. I started standing my ground once I concluded that these men weren’t worth my time or the dignity I lost by sharing space with them. Life is too short to breathe the same air as a mysoginist fucktard who thinks a woman’s only purpose is to look hot in a selfie. Besides, who do these guys think they are with their receding hairlines, dad bods, and exorbitant child support payments? Fuck no.

I wanted more. And though I had hoped that I’d find it, I also had to accept that I might not. I’d have to make peace with the loneliness. I’d have to be okay that all the love in my heart might never be shared. It wasn’t okay, but I knew I’d have to put on my big girl panties and deal with it. I wasn’t going to give up, but I wasn’t going to settle.

And when I started to let go of my dream, to love and be loved by someone I respected and admired, it happened. It’s very much in the early stages, but I feel strongly that when you know, you just know. And this time, I know. For the purposes of this blog, I shall refer to this someone as Prince.

I’ll start by saying that I knew I liked him before we met. I can’t remember enjoying talking with someone so much. Our conversation just flowed so effortlessly. God that man can talk for England LOL. My nickname for him is Teddy Ruxpin because he never shuts off. He was fun, engaging, and he told interesting stories in a somewhat swoon worthy South African accent. But after meeting him in person, I knew this man was going to be someone very special in my life. I was definitely attracted to him. He is 6’1, athletic (he played division 1 hockey and polo on a professional level), and he has such a boyish, youthful face. The only give away to his age is the color of his hair. He held my hand and made a lot of physical contact with me in a way that was affectionate but completely undemanding. In fact, we didn’t kiss that night. He was a true gentleman. After that night he asked me if I believed at love at first sight. I never thought I would believe in something so ridiculous… until now.

We are very much alike, despite coming from very different backgrounds. His is one of privilege. He went to the same boarding school as JFK and Ivanka Trump. He was raised by au pairs, not parents, and every activity he was involved in was calculated to make him a success. All he knew was about performing. At ten he already spoke three languages. So what could hippie dippie unicorn riding Caroline possibly have in common with such a man? Well, despite our very different lives, we somehow think the same thoughts, react the same way, and share the same kind of crazy (the batshit variety… let’s call it like it is, shall we?). He has a very soft heart that he only allows only me to see me. He is a well respected equine surgeon and when one of his horses has to be put down, it’s me that he lets wipe his tears.

He is a romantic. He sends me the most beautiful texts. He devotes so much of his time to me— which is absolutely unheard of in my experiences. I’m used to men who avoid communication at all costs. But we spend hours talking and texting throughout the day. Teddy Ruxpin, I tell you, always on… even when I’m ready to close my eyes, especially when I’m ready to close my eyes, and sometimes when my eyes are closed! I love it how he makes me feel like I’m part of something bigger. He has talked about me to his mom, and I have met his dad during a very vulnerable time (Prince’s dad has stage 4 cancer). That he’s incorporated me into his life like this, it makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like I’m not going to be tossed away without a care, as I’ve experienced in the past.

I’d like to think that now will begin the next stages of this blog, in which I no longer write about my shitty encounters with men children. It may have been funny, but it wasn’t fun. It was lonely and disheartening. I hope the next part of my blog is about my adventures with Prince, and relearning what it feels like to love and be loved.

Today is our one month anniversary. Yeah, its not huge, but for me it’s a major milestone. We’ve had a couple hiccups in that time, I won’t lie, but I am unfazed. I don’t want Prince to be perfect. I want him to be human and flawed, just like I am. What matters, when you boil things down to its true essence, despite any roadblocks, Prince is still here. He hasn’t let go of my hand. Consistency. Friendship. Love. It’s everything I wanted. Not perfection, but happiness.

Maybe there is hope for me yet. Watch this space.

 

Despite what everyone says about it (that it’s purely a hookup website), I tried Tinder for a while.  At first I thought it was pretty great. What I loved about the app is that people are only matched with those they are mutually attracted to. I was matched with many successful and attractive men. On paper, these men appear like amazing catches. The downside? For some reason Tinder seems to be a place where men  and women throw respect out the window. It is absolutely bizarre, and quite disturbing. Women are not even treated human beings, they are just sort of like animal flesh. It’s so ugly. I deleted my account today because I could feel myself starting to hate men. I don’t want to be like that. I know good men exist … just maybe not on Tinder.

Offenses range from the mild to the extreme, as I shall demonstrate here. Let’s start with an extreme case, shall we?? Unfortunately I don’t have full screenshots to prove this one, you will have to trust me. I wouldn’t make this stuff up. I present exhibit A(nthony).

Anthony.jpgHe then went on to ask me if I ever had sex with a family member. I shit you not. He revealed what I guess was supposed to be an absolutely scintilating morsel, but I think I vomited in my mouth a bit: apparently when he was younger (I don’t know what age “younger” is), he would sneak into his mom’s room in the dark and have sex with her. This was my first, and hopefully last, encounter with a true “motherfucker.” I replied, “okay, I don’t think we are a match.” I just didn’t know what else to say. I was kind of stunned. At that point HE blocked ME, because you know, I’m a freaking weirdo. And then the text thread disappeared –otherwise you know how I love my screenshots. Tinder ladies. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. 

And speaking of legs, are yours sexy? You better hope so!  So what if you have only two IQ points? According to this guy’s profile, he is a palliative care doctor which makes him really sensitive to humanity and appreciative of life and shit. 

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So according to a guy friend, my response to him was too extreme. When I showed the exchange to Crazy Kay, she was more offended than I was.  What do you think? This is very typical of what you find on Tinder. I felt very much like a cow being inspected at a market for my fat to muscle ratio, not like a human being.  It upset me. 

Here’s another conversation about a guy going off on how women who expect men to pay for a date are like prostitutes…

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Alright Captain Caveman, you become a special little fucktard right here on my blog. How do you like that one? And lucky you, this one is on the house!

The final guy is a very basic schmuck, but my last straw. He is a  civil trial lawyer. First of all, I absolutely can’t stand it when some guy I never met in person starts a conversation with “Hi sexy” …. I quite literally cringe. You don’t fucking know me like that buddy! Is that how you speak to strange women at the grocery store? Because you know me little better. I wondered whether to respond, and decided I would. Maybe I’m just really uptight.  I thought, okay he made a mistake, give the guy a chance.  Here is how that went…

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Again, men always asking me for more pictures … irritating. How about you try to get to know me instead? I mean you can see he isn’t really making much of an effort to understand who I am as a person.IMG_9073.jpg

I tried to be cute, but the truth is I was really pissed off. I left it there. And then I ruminated… and then ruminated some more.  Over an hour had passed, and in that time  I really became angry, furious actually. Why was I doing this? And then came my little rant. So you understand, it isn’t about this one guy in particular, was a culmination of all the dirsrespect (of which this post is only a sampling).

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And with that thoughtfully crafted response, delivered about eight hours later, I felt no regrets whatsoever. Moral of the story: if you want to keep your faith in humanity, do not open the Pandora’s box known as Tinder. Satan will find you there!!!!!

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Recently I had a conversation with some random person who told me his ten commandments for life. I decided to come up with my own.
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Rule number one: Show up. If my life had a motto, this wold be it. I have used it to get me through many a tough time. Sometimes life is crazy and scary and completely out of control. Your just want to hide and hope it will go away. Take this magic little pill: just show up. You don’t kneed to know what to do or how to do it. Just put one foot in front of the other, and the path will reveal itself. I can’t tell you how many times  this has gotten me to where I needed to be.

Rule number two:  if it makes you happy, do it. Selfish? Maybe. Is that so bad to put yourself first? I’m not talking about doing something that is going to hurt someone. You are hopefully wise enough to distinguish right from wrong. I’m talking about following your bliss. Care about how you feel. If you don’t, who will?

Rule number three: Do what you can while you can with what you have. Tomorrow the money might not be there, the health might not be there, or the opportunity. The time is now. Don’t waste it. Tell the ones you love you love them while they are still around. Eat the donut(s). Do that thing. You know what I’m talking about: THAT thing. You will never live this moment again.

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Rule number four: Forgive. My dad always used to say, “forgive and forget.” Well I’m not Jesus, nor do I have Alzheimer’s, but I found that forgiveness is actually possible. Learning that was nothing short of a revelation for me. Sure forgiveness the most beautiful, amazing, life-altering, and soul lightening gift I have ever received. Bitterness is poison that only we taste, not the person we are mad it. If time and distance from your situation allows, do it (see rule #3).

I always thought that phrase, “forgiveness is the gift you give yourself,” was a bunch of crap. It’s not.

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Rule number five: Trust that the Universe is working in your favour, and everything is going to be okay. Better than okay my lovelies! There was a time when I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I genuinely thought my life was over. Things were so bad that even if I could have whatever I wished for, my head wasn’t even capable of finding the wish that could right the wrongs. I don’t know how it happened exactly (I think it has a lot to do with rule number one), but I’m ok again. No, it’s not perfect, but it’s beautiful in its imperfection, and I am indeed okay. So will you be.

Number six: Be what you want. If you want love, give love. If you need peace, be a source of peace for someone else. If you need help, help someone. Try it. It will make you feel good in the process.

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Rule number seven: Show gratitude. Become aware of your many blessings. Train your brain to find the good. There will be days when this feels close to impossible, but there is always something. There is the warmth of the sun that shines on your skin, and your two eyes that open every morning. When you can appreciate those things that we often take for granted, life gets a lot sweeter. When you are aware of the good, the universe rewards you with more good.

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Number eight: Know that you are powerful. Yeah, it doesn’t always feel like it, but you are. You are the number one player in this story that is your life, and you decide how things go. Don’t make yourself small, the victim of unfortunate circumstances. Act when you feel inspired. You know what to do, deep down. Do it. Don’t let life just happen to you.

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Number nine: Embrace your weird. It’s okay to be different. The wold would be a pretty boring place if we were all the same. Let your weird light shine so that the other wierdos can find you. Wierd is a side effect of awesome.

Last but not least: Be kind. Sometimes that goodness you need isn’t there, but maybe, in some small way, we can give that goodness to someone else who needs it. I guess this is very much like #6, but it’s more focused on radiating good without the need of getting anything back. The world needs that. Even if you can only do that by giving a kind smile or by telling someone they look pretty today, be that person. You never know what kind of power a small kindness can have. Maybe your small light is the only light someone gets on a really bad day. I can’t tell you how many times a small act of kindness can ripple into something huge.

What about you? What would your rules be?

IMG_8137.jpgI’m often come across talk of “soulmates,” about how there is that one someone special out there for everyone. Every shoe has it’s perfect match, apparently. I could probably just be content with someone whose company I enjoy, though obviously I do wish for more. I want the fairytale, if such things even exist, but I’m not holding my breath. Nothing and no one is perfect, so I’m not holding out for that. I get really disheartened at times when I see what’s out there though. I have dropped my standards when it comes to what I expect out of a man, but I refuse to let go of them completely. I shouldn’t have to. 

About a week ago I was excited when a fairly okay looking doctor (but who I suspect is balding since his pictures seemed somewhat strategically cropped) reached out to me. Let’s start off with a little snippet from his dating profile…

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Sounds good right? Perfect for me.

We exchanged numbers and texted a bit. He didn’t seem anything like the guy in the profile. Actually, the man was pure and unadulterated asshole. Here excerpt from our conversation…

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Well, to make a long story short, we did not meet. I was completely put off.

So, as far as soul mates are concerned,  I accept the responsibility of being my own. The way things are going down, that’s the only choice I really have. And I got to tell ya, I’m getting kind of awesome with the way I treat me. I think I’d make a fab boyfriend! I didn’t want me to feel sad on Valentine’s Day so I did all sorts of lovely things for myself. I am loving myself in the way that I would like someone to love me. I guess that’s the next best thing. Admittedly, it’s a far cry from having a romantic partner, but I’m not going to lower myself to the degree where I’m going to waste my time with a butt wipe, whom I imagine is probably a racist and a Trump supporter (yeah, I totally made that up in my head, but I believe it wholeheartedly). The spirits of my female ancestors did not manifest in my soul so that I could be the foot stool for some fuckwit’s feet. This much I know. Therefore, if I can’t get kindness and respect from a man, I shall give it to myself. In the process, I have decided that I may just ridicule the douche bags that cross my path on my blog  … because, hey, it’s kinda fun. And if I wasn’t able to laugh about it, I’d probably cry. Those of you who know me, know that I do that too. A bit less often these days, but it still happens.

So how did I treat myself on Valentine’s Day? I bought myself a lovely Marc Jacobs tote. It is perfect for work. I plan to use it as my everyday bag. It has this gorgeous bright red interior that makes me feel happy every time I open it. And guess what? I didn’t even buy it on sale. I just treated myself to exactly what I wanted when I wanted it. It was a bit pricey, but whateva. I also ate some delicious buttery shortbread. One by one, I polished off the whole box. For dinner I made myself one of my favorites: wings. I make mine in the oven. It’s an easy recipe: 1 part honey to 1 part harissa (Moroccan spice paste) which I brush on to the chicken once it is cooked and crispy, then back in the oven another five minutes. The trick to getting them crispy is to pat them as dry as possible when raw, salt them, and then cook them on a high temperature on a rack that allows the fat to render. No oil. Nothing is as good as fried, but this is a very satisfying alternative. Try it, tell me what you think.

I do acknowledge that there are good men out there. I have met a few. I know they actually exist, but I haven’t met the one who is right for me. Until then, I am in my own care. I want to do right by me. Partner or not, I hope you will do the same. Nobody will ever know how you need to be teated better than you. Be careful of what you tolerate because you are showing people what you will accept. Show them how it’s done dollies!

Lots of love and kisses to all my readers on Valentine’s Day. I love you. 

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Dating is so crap sometimes. Before it even gets to arranging to meet someone, you have to chat. And I’ve chatted with so many douchebags, that I literally have the urge to sew up my vagina sometimes. My list of deleted numbers resembles something of a telephone directory. So many men give so little and expect so much. Plus they have the attention span of a handful of peanuts. One day they are texting you sweet and silly words, the next day they have forgotten you exist. I KNOW I deserve more than that shit. And there is no fucking way I’m going to accept it. I’d definitely rather be alone … except I don’t reaaaaaly want to be alone. I want to share my life with someone wonderful and worthy. Sometimes I get so disheartened. Is there a guy out there who is right for me? Am I just too strange? I know I’m kind of niche— I’m not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. I figure I’m more of a matcha latte. Honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love who I am and who I’m becoming. I’d just really like to “become” with an amazing man by my side.

There was this lawyer I went on a date with. He made a big freaking deal about me not being able to use chopsticks. A huge deal. I have only had sushi a few times in my life, so perhaps I do look kinda silly trying to utilize them, but why did he have such a strong desire to try to embarrass me? What ever happened to being a gentleman? Do you know why I don’t eat sushi much? I DONT LIKE IT. I put my likes aside to spend time with someone, and enjoy something THEY like, and I am rewarded with ridicule. Not friendly ridicule, but a purposely nasty kind of disdain. Nice, huh? Total troglodyte!

Here is a snippet of conversation I had with with another fucktard. Clearly he had only one intention in mind in trying to meet me:

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These are not uneducated men: a doctor and a lawyer. What they have in common is a lack of empathy, and an extreme sense of entitlement. Chivalry isn’t dead, it’s more likely to have been murdered and then drowned in its own tears. Common decency and respect is just sooooo over and outdated.

Tonight I’m having my second date with a man I shall call Derwood. Derwood is hot! He has the sexiest arms ever. Ever. He is quite charming in a strange sort of way, and I am wickedly attracted to him … but … well, he seems a tad dumb, if I’m honest, juvenile. Plus, like most men, his interest in me seems mostly sexual. I want to be with a man who seems to really want to get to know me, a man I can respect and look up to. I had so much fun making out with Derwood in his car at the end of date number one, that I made an exception, however. I ended up breaking my no kissing on a first date rule for him. So despite acknowledging that this probably has no potential, I am really looking  forward to seeing him tonight … but then I found out the movie he chose for us to watch is practically a kids movie *sigh.* No, I’m pretty sure Derwood is not “the one.”

And this is the general trend in my love life, my dear readers. I do believe the man I’m looking for is out there somewhere. I wish he would stop hiding. I’ve kissed enough frogs. I want something good and real… and soon!

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Fin DAC & Kevin Ledo collaboration in Wynwood, Miami

Hello my lovelies, I’ve not written in a while. Kind of been laying low. How was the start to your New Year? It’s not a favorite holiday of mine (because I always wish I had someone special to celebrate it with), but it was okay actually. I rang it in with one of my favorite treats: a Godiva chocolate covered macaroon. So yeah, not earth shatteringly awesome, but not bad. The good news is, I didn’t spend it feeling sorry for myself. That’s progress.

Since I last wrote, my friend T lost her battle with cancer. That was pretty major. But the thing is, it was inevitable. I knew it was going to happen. I just didn’t know when, and I was dreading finding out. When it did happen, I was deeply sad, but not surprised. She practically lived in the hospital. Always in and out, always breaking bones, and she had constant trouble with her breathing. At the end of her life, she was carrying an oxygen tank with her wherever she went. T was definitely a fighter though, and always hopeful.  Always making plans, assuming that there would be a tomorrow. I feel so blessed that my life path ran parallel to such an amazing and loving human being. She was my sister, just not by blood, and I will always love her dearly.

I’ve gone on a few dates, though nobody is worth actual mention. I continue to put myself out there believing that one day, it’s going to happen for me. It’s encouraging that at my age I still get attention from very eligible and attractive men. Last week a rather handsome guy took me to Wynwood to check out some street art and chow down on the uber fabulous fried chicken at KYU. I honestly can’t remember having better (this was my second time going). That sauce it comes with … well, that must be what people mean when they say “awesome sauce.” Chicken was followed by some deliciously sweet and fluffy coconut cake. I’m not sure what it says about me that I talk about the food with so much more excitement than the man. He was nice … meh … nice. I’m not looking for NICE, I want to FEEL something… you know? Like with the fried chicken LOL. Passion. I seem to be no closer to finding love since I last wrote, but I keep trudging on.

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As for work, its been crazy as usual, but I actually had a very good month. I must have been a very good little show pony, as I was recognized as the best on my team for December. Plus, two of my customers left me great feedback on good service I provided. I must admit, it felt great to be recognized. I really did work hard. I hoping 2019 might have a promotion in store.

And that, my dears, is really it. What’s been going on with you? I wish you everything good and sweet in 2019 and always.

Tons of love,

Caroline

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So truth is that I had a shitty week. Really shitty. My mom hasn’t been well (I kind of loathe to get into it, I find it kind of scary and embarrassing to talk about), work has been breaking my back (nothing earth shattering, but you know that can suck), and I have been feeling overlooked. I know we all feel this way sometimes. Different problems of course, but we all have moments where we need a pick me up. We all need to be reminded of who we REALLY are: powerful, beautiful, and limitless beings. 

Here are five ways that I tried to work on that today:

Awesome music: I have music that suits all my moods. There is some stuff that I listen to that’s totally hard and kick ass, some that’s goth and moody, and some that makes me feel very feminine and spiritual. We all have different tastes and different sides to our personality. One thing is the same for all of us though: music is some powerful ass magic. Sometimes you gotta put on your headphones (Bose, dear), block out the rest of the world, and loose yourself in sound. Just totally feel it. Immerse yourself into it. FEEL it. BE it. Dance if your wishes move you. Take your music out for walk or a run in nature if you are feeling it.  It’s all good.

I ate good food: Now, I’m not talking about bingeing, though we all know I am not averse to that (goddesses don’t regulate themselves, after all). What I’m talking about eating food that is good for you, but also delicious. A coconut macaroon won’t kill ya either dollies, not when they are from Godiva. Aside from my sugar laden Scooby Snack of choice though, today I also indulged in thick Greek yogurt covered in  a luxurious sweet honey that I’ve been saving for something special, and some incredibly tasty avocado toast with juicy tomatoes. Who doesn’t love avocados, right? I drink my special tea that I adore, and I just savor the flavors. 

I was selfish with my time: There are moments where everyone needs to kinda fuck off. They might be fabulous, but fuck off they must. And then there are people who really don’t deserve your energies. You know who I’m talking about. You are totally thinking about someone right now, aren’t you LOL? Sometimes you need to be selfish and be all about you, because we both know, nobody else will do this for you. Turn off your phone. Maybe lock the door to your room. Or maybe just get out. Today I became invisible for a while (though honestly, I don’t think anyone noticed–that sorta sucks, but whatevs).

I took a bath. Maybe it is because I’m a water sign, but there are few things so soothing as a nice bath (with a ridiculously overpriced scented candle—Walmart can kiss my ass. Frugality has no place when it comes to self care.) Bubbles or bath oil. It’s all good. Sometimes I lie there, just kind of motionless and feel the warm water around me. Sometimes I listen to guided meditations on YouTube. Just follow whatever your heart wants. Maybe some cookies? I don’t know, just sayin.’ If the crumbs get in the tub, it’s no biggie, they will all just go down the drain, so actually, it’s really pretty genius.

I made a face mask. When I was in NYC I stopped in one of my favorite little shops: Kalustyan’s. I’m not sure how I describe the place. It’s kind of like a witch’s cupboard of the weird and wonderful. It is a food store, but it sells these magical ingredients that you just won’t find anywhere else. This time, one of the unusual ingredients I purchased was Organic Rose Petal Powder… Now what would I do what that? Well I’m kind of obsessed with rose as a flavor, so I bought it, and I decided I’d figure it out later. After doing a bit of research I decided to make a face mask out of it. Supposedly, it is a natural skin toner. I mixed the rose petal powder and honey (full of antioxidants) to form a thick dark colored paste and slathered it onto my skin (after I tried to taste it … yeah, really). I left it on for a good 20 minutes, and then washed it off. Rinsing it off with water is a bit messy. But do you know what? It actually produced great results. I wouldn’t lie to you on this. My skin felt felt very soft and looked very fresh and healthy in a way that it does not normally. I am going to make this a weekly habit, as it feels quite indulgent, and I adore self care. If you can find this crazy ingredient, try it out for yourself. 

I want to also try adding little spoon of the powder into hot chocolate. Would it be as yummy as I imagine? Watch this space.

I think its super important to discuss how we pull ourselves out of negativity rather than wallow in it. Feelings are like visitors, they come and go, but sometimes the yucky ones will want to hang out just a bit too long if you invite them to tea. So let’s talk about this my lovelies, how do you vanquish the nasties?

Let me start with a recommendation of what NOT to do when you are in New York. Don’t go to Vu Hair at the Peninsula Hotel. DON’T!!!!  Do. Fucking. Not!!! Getting my hair cut in New York has always been a treat for me. I try to go somewhere special. It’s a little way I like to spoil myself. This time I was trying a lovely sounding salon on the 22nd floor of a grand hotel. It got great Yelp reviews. I was excited. Well… Moi was in for a nasty surprise. ScissorHands did not listen to me when I told him what I wanted: three to four inches off the bottom and layering on the side.  Instead, my almost waist long hair (when straightened) was hacked to little more than shoulder length (a good 8 inches off). I was devastated. Into the lobby bathroom I went, where I cried for about twenty minutes — well, if you are going to cry like a big baby, it might as well be in some fancy bathroom. It heightens the drama. Am I right?

I always thought my hair was the most special part of me, the thing that made me pretty. My hair has always been long. From childhood, I have associated long hair with beauty. So to have it chopped so significantly… it was both shocking and somewhat devastating. It’s just hair, I know, but somehow the end result felt so brutal. Yeah, yeah, “it will grow back,” they tell me, like this is going to make things better. IN A FUCKING YEAR!!!! I now feel as attractive as a sack of potatoes.  Maybe I shouldn’t be so vain. I am more than what I look like. I know that. But even now as I write, I’m still upset about it. Traumatic.

Fuck that though. I’m still gonna roll like a gangsta. Shitty hair be damned. I shall move from the worst part of my vacation to the best. I saw my first ever concert. Going to see Florence + The Machine was the main reason for my trip. I didn’t know what to expect. Yeah, I could have seen her closer to home, but why would I do that when I could see her in Brooklyn? Makes no sense. Was it weird that I was going alone? Maybe a little, huh? I was nervous. Dealing with the unknown is always a little scary for me, but at the same time, I try to be brave. I don’t want life to pass me by. Was I going to stick out like a sore thumb? Was it going to be just completely and utterly awkward? 

Actually my dears, it was awesome. Ah Florence… could I possibly be more in love? Words don’t describe it. Her angelic aura, her super powerful voice, the way she danced in her diaphanous gown and bare feet, her beautiful bright spirit that lit up the Barclay Center. She is just so utterly lovely. Mostly she sang songs from her newest release, “High as Hope,” but there were some of her beloved classics too. Magical my lovelies, magical. I sang (yes, me!) … I even danced (if you could call it that). It was so special, a memory I will cherish forever.

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Of course there was plenty of eating. You know how I do, dollies. But I mostly stuck with my old favorites, so I am not going to bore you with stuff I’ve already written about previously. Suffice it to say, weight was surely gained. Need a fat ass to balance my awkward coiffure, methinks. And then there was the street art.

I found five Invader pieces to add to Moi collection. That always thrills me to bits.

And then I have some other beauties to share…

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Random fabulous
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Gumshoe Art, aka Angela China
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Public art installation by Derek Fordjour
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Vandal Gummy
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Piece by Buff Monster, Brooklyn
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Not Bad For a Girl, Indie184
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D*Face — somewhere of off Lafayette and Broome Street