All You've Got to do is Say...No

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Sometimes as much as you want to say yes, you know the answer should be no. Temptation always seems to mount when you're in a relationship. That guy you'd wondered "what if" about for an eternity finally decides he's ready to show you exactly what you've been missing (oo and it's a lot). If you're strong, you say no and you deny yourself that exquisite pleasurable experience. If you've got the backbone of a snail, you succumb, let yourself fold into the passionate throws and the next day (granted you have the capacity to feel shame) you stare at the tattered shreds of your morality that have all gone to hell.

Whether the night in question is worth it is up for debate. If you said no and wake to find the other side of the bed empty, your mind may wander and linger on all sorts of dark places. While you contemplate what could have been you can take solace in knowing you did the right thing (even if your body is aching for the caresses of the lover you denied). As for those of you that said yes, you should now do the right thing and say goodbye to your relationship, or else yours is one of the 0.001% that can survive infidelity (make no mistake, you are most likely not the exception).

That's all she wrote...For Now

Putting it in Ink

(image courtesy of roddh on flickr)

Yesterday one of by BFF's got his first tattoo - rumor on the street is that I'm next (but I highly doubt it). It's on that list of my 'what if's' that I don't plan to follow through on. I'm the kind of person who writes in my moleskine not on my skin, but if I were to get one I'd get the Jamaican national hummingbird perched on a Ginger Lily or Bird of Paradise plant on my right pelvic bone (not that I've put any thought into it). I also watched two girls get their tongues pierced (yikes!). I've got the standard two ears pierced and nothing else, as much as my friends would like me to join the club, tattoo's and piercings won't be on the docket this decade or the next.

That's all she wrote...For Now

The Double D

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Don't get me wrong, I love partying with my friends and I can usually do it sober (& by sober I mean no alcohol but 2 to 3 cans of Red Bull flowing through my body) but being the designated driver sometimes for lack of a better phrase - sucks out loud! I got roped into going to a soca fete last night and coaxed into being the cursed double D. I usually don't mind for the most part, but as I looked around at my circle, everyone and I mean EVERYONE else had a Heineken in hand and I have to admit I was a bit jealous!

I love to dance, music unleashes this kind of unparalleled high causing my hips to gyrate (& me to belt out one song after another with more feeling than is ever actually called for) - but when I hit my soca music quota for the night my vibe hit a serious lull. A lull that could have definitely been cured by a bit of liquid inspiration, lesson to self: soca fete≠ designated driver.

That's all she wrote...For Now

Cravings

Now I've been pretty good for the last couple years. I stopped eating until I was stuffed, and started eating until I was satisfactorily full (&& lost 40 pounds that way), but over the last few months that good eating regime flew through the window. I surprisingly haven't put on any weight yet, but I'm bound to soon. Seeing as how I'd like to fit into that size 4 dress hanging in my closet, that thanks to my genes doesn't exactly fit my round behind - this needs to stop. My thoughts center around my career, my love life, my closet and FOOD! Bad combination - because if I'm not thinking of the other three things, I'm either eating or thinking about eating. When I think about all the summer paychecks that I didn't save, more than half of that went to feeding my eating out obsession. It doesn't help that my best friends a chef mind you! Don't get me wrong even though I eat quite a bit I do eat healthy, loading up on veggies rather than carbs. So here's the issue - should I diet or not, summer's coming and with the warm weather short shorts and bikini's, giving me less and less choice. Let's see if I can get through a week of eating to satisfaction rather than stuff-ation, I can do anything if I set my mind to it right?!? I'll update you when I do it, but only after I get that burrito I've been craving!

That's all she wrote... For Now

Got Goals?

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Someone told me that I have too many role models, a statement I don't believe to be true, but I digress that with so many amazing women in this world how could I pick just one, or two for that matter? Every girl should have two things: a style icon and a career role model.

My style icon's: Audrey Hepburn and Tami Chynn both have this amazing quality about them; one is the embodiment of class and chic, the other is bold, yet ultra-feminine.

I think that after I've satisfied my career goals I'd like to publish 5 great novels like NYT Best Selling author Candace Bushnell - but that'll be the cherry on top. As for the whole sundae so to speak - Robin Givhan - The Pulitzer Prize winner for Criticism and Fashion Critic for The Washington Post is it! Givhan relates fashion to politics and aspects of culture and that is what I want to do! Considering I'm going to need a job in a couple of months, does anyone know if she's looking for an assistant?

The purpose of a role model is to help you be better; to achieve your goals, so choose wisely and follow their lead!

That's all she wrote... For Now

Lessons for the Youth

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There are a few lesson everyone should be taught early in life, number one: do not, I repeat DO NOT (or else you enjoy puking your guts out at the end of a great night) mix Vodka with more than one or two kinds of alcohol. You should also note that rum & cokes are the holy grail, actually, preferably Wray & Nephews Overproof Rum and Pepsi. If you intend to get inordinantly pissed designate cell phone duty to a trusted friend (or else you're aiming to end up on textsfromlastnight.com, if so by all means text away - I'll be glad to laugh). Experiment! You can't truly find a favourite drink if you don't try more than three! Judge a man by the beer he drinks, Exhibit A: my standard - if a man is drinking anything other than Heineken or Red Stripe (and on the off chance there's Guinness), he will not get my number.

That's all she wrote...For Now

What's Your Number?

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This week has been all about numbers, I sat in a class about Women as public intellectuals and somehow ended up on the subject of sex and the infamous number which sparked the inspiration for this post. A friend of mine once told me that her maximum number is five; meaning she's only allowed to sleep with five men in her lifetime. I found it strange that she'd relegated herself to a solitary number for the amount of men she's allowed to sleep with, not to mention the amount of pressure on lucky #5. For my friend the number five is the divide between a good girl and a bad woman, as for me I've always liked the bad girls - so here's to 5 and how ever many more I choose! I own my number, do you? In honour of International Women's Day (which is March 8), you definitely should!

That's all she wrote...For Now