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Category: travel

What ever happened to Captain?

Better yet, where’s Krystal?!

Where’s the Love?

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I never arrive early. Ever.

But I won the race this time.

“Krystal? Phone for you,” the sweet sixteen year old barista, Larsha, said in her Creole lilt.”

“Oh, you’re there already?”Midnight Stroll

It was Captain.

“Yup, I’m here.”

He didn’t think I would make it on time because we stayed up until 3am.

“I wanted to impress you,” I said.

“You already have.”

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Belize Vacation

Note to Reader: Oh Captain! My Captain! is Part 2 in a series about my summer of love in Belize.

I wasn’t attracted to him when I asked for the time.

I barely noticed him at all as I ran up the stairs into Above Grounds Coffee.

But he was there and I needed to get to the yoga class listed on the bulletin board by 9.

Sweaty and in a sports bra, twists and curls wrangled up in a bun, I said thank you and darted down the stairs.

To my disappointment, class was cancelled. But, I made the best of it, spending the day on the beach trading stories with strangers who are now friends.

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 Sonny + Annette is Part 1 of a series chronicling my summer of love with Captain in Belize. Stay tuned…

Inspirational Love Stories, The Placencia Bazaar

The Placencia Bazaar, Placencia, Belize

The chimes and bells rang as I scurried up the steps and through the door of The Placencia Bazaar.

A petite, sun-drenched blonde sat comfortably at the counter and said hello.

“Hi.” I smiled.

I scanned the local artwork on the walls, paintings, post cards and pottery.

It was a bazaar full of tchotchkes and, I would come to find out, love.

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My parents are beginning to worry. I turned 32 this year and still, no one.

The conversation with my mother went something like…

“When is your birthday?”

“It’s tomorrow, mom!”

“Raatid (Jamaica expletive), tomorrow’s the 20th?”

“Yes, mom. Don’t forget to call me.” I joked.

“You know Krystal, I was telling someone the other day.

My daughter is going to be 32 and I have never seen her with a man.”

Thanks, mom. Thanks. Continue Reading..

I plopped on the couch in my friend’s Miracle Mile condo, thumbing through a stack of magazines for things to do in Chicago. As luck would have it, the July cover story of Chicago Magazine was the 2014 Most Eligible Singles list.

Naturally, I scoured the spread for any potentials that tickled my fancy.

One named Calid (I’m a sucker for names and this one I loved) caught my eye.

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When I tell people that at 32 years old I’ve never been in love a pearl-grabbing gasp is the common response.

Eyes bulging, jaws dropping, some slowly step back.

I comfort them with my confidence, “It’s okay, it’s not a condition.”

When I decided to share my story by blogging I thought it would be as simple as write, post, repeat.

Little did I know, it would be more like write, hide, puke, repeat.

Fear, anxiety and intimidation would sink in and I would rather push pins in my eyes than press publish on another post.

But then, BlogHer happened.

And this girl who has never been in love with a man, had her heart stolen by a room full of women.

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Love is In The Air 

My flight from Vegas to Chicago reminded me again (to quote my favorite movie) love actually is all around.

I met yet another couple willing to share their love story with me. Susan and Tim met on a blind date 40 years ago, and after dating only a few months they tied the knot.

Susan was 30 at the time and deemed an old maid, as all of her friends had already been married, some with children. But Susan and her friends were having fun being single and she knew love would happen for her one day. So she waited patiently for her handsome husband and 3 children.

A Christian woman, Susan encouraged me with scriptures and experiences of her own. She was sure love was making its way toward me and said she would be praying.

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I recently returned home from L.A. for work, play and a little love jumpin’ along the way.

Before heading out, I sent out the love vibrations letting friends know The Love Jump was coming to town and Tingle was ready to mingle.

Despite my most earnest effort, no dates were set before my arrival so I thought, “Tinder it is!” We all know what happened the last time I met a guy on Tinder. I was hoping to not have to use the app again any time soon.

After a few days in Tinsletown, I felt my pre-love-jump self rising, picking apart guys I met while out with friends, cowering at soul night in Hollywood, safely ignoring the guy standing next to me at the bar.

Why do we do this? Why do we self sabotage?

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