Let me be upfront: I lack in the style department. I'm sure I could develop an eye for it if I tried, but I genuinely don't care to. My requirements are simple. Things need to match, be clean, and be in relatively good condition. I am not the person who can visualize furniture in a space or intuitively know what a room needs. I can add to what's already there, a nice pillow or a work of art, but beyond that? No bueno. So when I began researching how to furnish my Mexico prope

I am a walking contradiction. I'm both a meticulous planner and someone who thrives on spontaneity. Definitely not a risk-taker, yet someone who bristles at anything resembling commitment—I always reserve the right to change my mind. The more I think about it, I realize I'm a planner when money or life-changing decisions are involved, but I prefer flexibility in everything else. Take my move to Merida, for example. It's been meticulously planned. Beyond securing the house, my

I do stupid things quite often, but I can usually think or talk my way out of any mess. Or at least get a good laugh out of it. This morning’s mess was one for the ages, which is why I’m skipping over an important part of my trip. The morning I was scheduled to leave, I waited at the reception desk for the cab I’d requested the previous night. When he arrived, right on time I might add, I reached into my wallet to make sure I had my passport and I came up empty. I checked the

I am not a beach person. I can't swim. But I needed to test whether I could actually travel to Mexico alone. Here's what happened in Cancun.