Like the miles and miles of our sun-drenched beaches, there are miles and miles of (seemingly) sun-drenched (flatironed) blond hair. But if you're not afraid of big, bold curls, then head to Donna Pascoe Salon. Curly girls — and lads — this is your new hair home. Aside from all the usual posh salon services and the fact that they've recently switched to organic products, Donna Pascoe has Katrina Rodriguez, curl specialist. She's a Color & Cut Deva Specialist trained at the Devachan salon in NYC. She's a curl educator, and she will not only teach your curls to behave but she'll teach you how to let them be free. So be brave. Put down the flatiron. (And walk away from the Sun-In.) Walk in to Donna Pascoe's, and let your curls be free.

Judge a building by its cover, sure. If you're in Dania Beach, taking a gander at the Design Center of the Americas is a must: It occupies 775,000 square feet. It turns colors at night, with shades of pink and yellow and green that light up the east side of I-95. This squarish white building is not a bank or a grand hotel. It's a campus — for trade design — the largest of its kind in the world. So you better believe you should get out of the car and explore what's beyond the front walls. The building is open to the public. You can meander throughout more than 100 showrooms. Yes, you got that right: somewhere around 150 rooms, displaying interior and designer showrooms. Folks spend a whole day inside this building — not just the internationally renowned designer suits trying to lock in clients, but those guys are there too. You're inside a giant swatch. Discover different types of flooring, lighting, window treatments, every style of furniture, every type of paint and fabric. This turns Rooms to Go into a yucky kiddie Fun Zone containing plastic tunnels and pits of balls with spit on them. Ikea, shucks, it's nothing but a Charlie Brown playpen.

A well-funded city library, the Delray Beach Public Library has all the usual modern media amenities in spades. There are quiet study rooms, large meeting rooms, and youth activities. There's ample free parking, a café, and row after row of shelves containing more than 250,000 books. There's free Wi-Fi throughout the building, with no pesky registration and login system, so even visitors and tourists can get on the web. But this library's main attraction, what it really has going for it, is the location. Two stories of airy openness and bright, sunny windows, the library sits smack in the middle of the growing downtown scene. After spending the morning at the green market, having some lunch on Atlantic, or even lounging on the beach, the library serves as a retreat; grab a book or a laptop, a cup of coffee, and watch the parade on the avenue go by.

One trip to the asbestos-laden, flooding, disorganized, corrupt, stinking, harrowing, overcrowded, labyrinthine, and depressing Broward Main Courthouse (if you can even manage to find a $10 parking spot) can sour one's very concept of justice. After this experience, a trip to West Palm's Shangri-la of law makes even the most hardened Browardian feel like he's arrived at God's golden door. Clerks are responsive. Records are easily accessible. And the place is almost... pretty. Keep that in mind when choosing a spot to commit a crime.

We're proud to give graduation announcements when it's for a plethora of brand-spanking-new drag queens. The nonprofit Drag It Out mentors, inspires, fundraises, and teaches the art of drag. After ten weeks of free workshops, coached by professional drag queens, these draglings learn how to walk in six-inch heels. They create personas. They get real tools on how to enter the professional drag world — like how to create a "super sweet stache." Many students attend the workshops for fun — to learn the art of drag — but once in costume, some alumnae want to perform. All proceeds of their shows go to the Pride Center at Equality Park, Animal Aid, and Safe Schools of South Florida — for what Drag It Out nicknames "the Kids, the Queers, and the Animals."

A cougar needs to hunt for young males, and the cubs are in need of some cash. (It's OK, cougars: Everyone agrees there's nothing wrong with being a sugar mama.) So, really, the natural location to find a cougar is Whole Foods. What young gent can easily afford a $15 bottle of jelly on his own? But to linger by the jellies would be uncouth for a cougar. She needs to be the lioness, royalty, even though she is wearing her yoga pants. Cougars need to be in the meat section. They sashay near the deli case. But they also need to smell good. Cougars need you to know that they do smell very good. Where the younger populace might leave it to Pantene Pro-V, the cougar goes exotic. That's what makes their prime hunting spot... the herbal soaps and shampoos area. She needs you little buckaroos to feel young, and you need your raw veggies and seeds to keep up your stamina. Rawr!

If you want to add dating and/or marrying above your income bracket to your résumé, Mizner Park is the glittery office park where you should be knocking on doors for an interview. The ostentatious nature of many of the downtown Boca visitors means it can be hard to determine who's truly loaded and who's just really good at playing — and looking — the part. Rest assured; there is gold that is ready and willing to be dug. Looking for an ice breaker? Offer to order up a bowl of San Pellegrino for the hairless dog peeking out of (and peeing into) her/his $6,000 handbag. Barring that, a bit of well-placed cleavage never seemed to hurt a candidate's prospects.

Congratulations! You snagged a date. You probably know nothing about this person. Does she like the Beatles? We won't go as far as to say that you can never trust a person who doesn't like the Beatles, but we will say you can trust a person — at least for one night — who does like the Beatles. Especially if that one night is in a bar. In a crowded Irish bar, where it would be natural for you to drink, to get that liquid courage to converse with an unfamiliar human. You can do anything to the backdrop of feel-good Beatles tunes! Ah, sounds relaxing already. At the Field, you have options: You can talk, but you don't need to constantly talk (no one likes filler). But this is better than a jukebox filled with nothing but Beatles songs: Every Tuesday at 7:30 p.m., a Lennon/McCartney Beatles tribute band called 2ofUs plays. The guys are charismatic. They smile. During Christmas, they wear Santa hats. To boot, the ambiance at the Field is homey and romantic: There's dim lighting and dark wood everywhere you look. An actual big Banyan tree out front is so downright magical that you'd think some sort of Irish elves make the Field's delicious homemade cinnamon ice cream inside of it. So what happens when the duo, George VanDyk and Bryan Hinton, throw in a sad melody like "Eleanor Rigby"? Make out?

Themed, adult parties put together by Electrolust take place once a month at Club X-it, but it was on Saturday, February 5, at "A Clockwork Orgy," that a gang of friends who had never attended a fetish party before all got whipped together (not at the same time) — and that made for one helluva night. At this annual Stanley Kubrick tribute party, men who wore bomb gear and giant, buckled boots stomped on the dance floor, moving to hard-hitting, bass-thumping techno. There were attractive people there. There was liberation. Whips hung on the back wall. One man wore a mask and kilt, another a tail. Here, people approached and asked how they could please you. Did you want to get whipped? Leather Lee, the dom and the master who's been whipping people for 25 years, was here for you. You got your foot massaged, your shoulders rubbed. You got your neck sucked on, your ear lobes too — if you wanted, of course. You wanted to leave with bite marks? You left with bite marks. There was a man waiting on the floor in the restroom — he wanted to be spit on. He was spit on. He even got pissed on — and liked it. A very old man's desire was to be pulled by the string attached to the front of his black Speedo. He was pulled. Similar parties may happen once a month, but this night didn't just have an ending — it stimulated a million different nerve endings.

The Reef Road Rum Bar, located smack in the middle of downtown West Palm Beach, is like the Cheers of the reggae scene. Out-of-town reggae bands take the stage most nights. Local band Spred the Dub and DJ Highgrad host a weekly Monday-night reggae with no cover and Red Stripe on special. The huge windows behind the stage stay open during shows, and the sound takes over Clematis Street. When the crowd builds, the staff is quick to move a few tables out of the way to make the dance floor bigger. And don't be surprised if the owners, Alex and Tarik, remember your name.