We were seated in a bustling bar in midtown Atlanta only a couple hours after my flight landed. Publik, it was called. Somehow we lucked up with the only two cushy armchairs cattacornered with a view of the entire quaint space. We'd met many times before, often ending up somewhere to talk, away from our… Continue reading WanderLust (or Love), in Bar, in early Fall, in Midtown Atlanta
Long distance relationships are incredibly difficult. They happen for all kinds of reasons. You met an off duty flight attendant with kind eyes and a wicked sense of humor on vacation. You fell for a quirky girl with glasses and tattoos, in bar, who deploys for war in three months. Your significant other moves away… Continue reading Tips for Dating Someone with Wanderlust
[Originally posted on February 10, 2013] Its so official. I'm old. Ancient, really. After riding the wave of 21, a firm hand began to close around me. It was a grip pulsing with insecure unanswered questions and the panicked pressure to succeed. The grip would tighten every year, awaiting inevitable failure. It felt like Life was Scar,… Continue reading #tbt Quarter Life Crisis: Turning 25 (Pt. 3)
Its been a little over 30 days since I began writing on this platform.... Now, more than 30 posts later, there has been a consistent outpouring of love and well wishes I never expected. I thought I would quietly post my thoughts and observations of the human condition on Curls & Carry-ons and allow it… Continue reading A Very Curly THANK YOU!
In Buenos Aires, the doors took hold of my attention and then in Madrid, the resemblance of ornate doorways made it clear where the influence orginated. The architecture, overall was so captivating, but on every street, narrow or wide, it was the balconies that dominated the scene. Romeo could have easily called out to his… Continue reading The Balconies of Madrid
In early February, I received a notification for an Instagram "like" from an account I had never heard of. Upon reading the name, @lasmorenasdeespana, my excitement was immediate as I clicked through to its page. Morena, brown girl, that was me! De España, from Spain, like my father. What was I about to find? I… Continue reading Las Morenas de España