You Can Keep Your Haterade and Opinions to Yourself. With Love

Maybe it’s the Silence Breakers Movement. Maybe it’s #blackgirlmagic. Maybe I have listened to the first half of Lemonade one too many times or need to listen to it a few more. Maybe its an over 35 thing. I don’t know what it is or how I have gotten to this point, but I am so damn glad I am finally here. What is this magical place you ask? I have set up camp at the intersection of No Fucks Given Avenue and Zero Chill Road, right down the street from I Don’t Care Lane.

Let’s see how I got to this wonderful place, shall we? And before anyone comes at me with claws out ready to snatch out my jugular because you do not agree with me, or feel some type of way after reading this, these are just my feelings and opinions, not judgment. If this next part applies to you, good for you. I am not knocking you, your hustle, or how you choose to life your life, or how you spend your time. Do you Boo. Now that the disclaimer is out of the way, let’s get back to our journey, shall we?

I struggled constantly with comparison. Comparing myself to everyone and damn near everything. Minutes scrolling through Facebook and Instagram had me thinking that I had accomplished absofuckinglutely nothing during my entire shabby existence on Earth. And there is no truer statement than, “comparison is the thief of joy”. I spent so many moments wondering, “how do I meet people?” “Why don’t I know them?” “How do I mingle with that group?” “How do I get into a certain circle?” “I will never be on that list.” “What do I have to do to make it?” So many moments feeling that I wasn’t good enough that the thought of attending an event made my skin crawl. I will admit that there have been times where I RSVP’d for events and backed out at the last minute because of all the insecurities that were parked in my head like they were waiting outside of Best Buy on Black Friday.

But slowly, ever so slowly, the little black rain clouds in my head started to lift. And then it happened. Well, I don’t know the exact moment it happened, but it was like an Oprah light bulb moment. What I thought I wanted, what I thought mattered the most, the groups and lists that I wanted so desperately to be a part of didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was how I felt about myself.

Now, I’ve done my fair share of reading self-help/personal development books about mindfulness and how to get your shit together, and they all basically say the same thing: you are in charge of your own happiness. No one is going to make you happy. It’s all on you. Yup, it took me over 30 years and a lot of tears, rejection, and drinking to realize that Mama RuPaul is right. “If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?” Amen, girl. Amen.

And here I am learning, yes I am a work in process as we all are and that’s ok. I’m still working toward being consistent with a whole bunch of stuff, working at procrastinating less, working towards loving my whole self – flaws and all and working at getting out of the house more (the over 35 social struggle is super real). But now, it’s all about me. What I want to change about myself. What I want to accomplish. What I want to eat for dinner. No one’s opinion, thoughts, comments, or scrolls past the 1,000th picture of my dog and cat on IG matter. Nope. None of it. Not one bit. It’s very liberating. You should try it.

I’m so glad and happier that I did.

Later Days,



How I Silenced My Biological Clock

My Biological Clock is on Steroids

The holiday season has come and gone and I have officially moved into that glorious time of year between January 1st to the 16th when I contemplate my purpose in life and slam my head against the wall for operating well below my potential. This self-loathing now has a soundtrack. My biological clock.

Ever since I reached the lovely age of 30 and my Facebook feed magically morphed from party to pregnancy photos, I am constantly assaulted with the fact that I am single with no kids. This holiday season, it seemed that everyone else but me was either getting married or having a kid. Every other day there was an engagement or baby announcement to stop my thumb mid scroll and my ovaries tingle. Trust and believe that I am happy for my friends who are getting married and having babies. I so am. It just thrusts in my face with all the fury and tenacity of a Donald Trump tweet that I am still waiting for Prince Charming, it is well past midnight and my best and brightest eggs have been flushed down the toilet.

Life’s Plot Twist

I’m sure that there are a few of you out there who had this grand life plan. Married with kids by 30. Yup that was my plan too. But soon 30 turned to 35(damn near 36) and all I’ve got is a dog and cat. Yes, pets are kids. I get it, but they are not cute chubby cherubs that smell good. The closer I get to 40, the farther away having a family gets and that is terrifying.

Sure, I could go to a sperm bank, pick a guy from a catalog, and get knocked up by a turkey baster like many women have and I am by no means knocking their decision. All the power to them. But that’s not what I see for myself. I’m all about dating, falling in love, the wedding, family portraits and traditions. An episode of Scandal sounds more plausible than that right now.

Before you go there, yes I have seriously looked into freezing my eggs. That shut the door quicker than being shut down at a happy hour. If someone would like to donate $6,000 and inject me with hormones, I’m all about that. I’ll set up my GoFundMe page in a second. I could do it, but just the thought of going through what amounts to half an IVF procedure is not in my wheel house. Again, all the power and praise in the world for couple for go through IVF and any other type of fertility treatment. I can’t imagine what you are going through. All the praise to you and your journey. But what is this single girl to do?

Get Your Shit Together

Accept, acknowledge, forgive, and release that’s what. I accept that I am single. Acknowledge the feelings of anger, resentment, and want. Forgive myself for having these limiting beliefs, and release them. Maybe I am not in the right place for a family. Perhaps my biological clock needs to tick longer. Or I need to heal myself before I add anyone else to my situation. Who knows. But it’s ok. It’s going to be ok. This year, I have decided to focus on myself spiritually through mediation, A Course in Miracles, and Gabby Bernstein. If you need a change and don’t know where to start, pick Spirit Junkie or the Universe has Your Back. It has done wonders for me and we’re only at January 8th!

I’m not upset that I am not where I want to be. I am where I need to be. A cool ass Fairy God Mother and Amazing Auntie BeeBee and that’s all that really matters. If not, there’s always Janet Jackson.

Later Days,


Wanna Be A Bad Ass? Date Yourself!

Wanna be a Bad Ass? Date yourself for a week. I did. And it was epic awesomeness. Three weeks ago, I had the best week ever (still getting this consistency thing down folks so please bare with me!),

On a whim, I decided to do something different everyday after work, just to keep the momentum of the Summer of Bee going. And boy has it sky rocketed. Beyoncé should make an album about my week. It would be called Kool-Aid. As in I have drank the Kool Aid of the single fabulous life and I am addicted. The rules were simple: $20 or less and within walking distance from work. That’s it.

I Found Dory


Just Keep Swimming, Swimming, Swimming

From previous posts, you know that I am huge Disney fan, so I had to see Finding Dory. And as luck or fate would have it, it was playing at the Prince Theatre, which I didn’t know played movies. $13 bucks for the ticket and $7 for popcorn and water, I settled in my seat for epic Disney Magic. I am not Siskel nor Ebert, so I will not review the movie, but go and see it!! I laughed, almost cried, gasped and was stunned numerous times in a 2 hour period. Dear Disney, I was not ready for the emotional roller coaster that you put me through, but I was glad for the ride. Along with my ticket, I got a coupon for the Franklin Institute’s Science of Pixar Exhibt. You can never have to much Disney in your life.

Asananas and Acrylic Paint

Tuesday was what can only be described as a kismet. I planned to attend a yoga class after work. I even made sure my outfit matched. When you work out at home, this is the least of your worries. Around 2pm, I got a Facebook message from a friend saying that she had seen my Facebook post about doing stuff around the City, and was wondering if I would be able to sit in for friend who could not attend Paint Nite.  The yoga class I planned to attend ended at 7, the same time Paint Nite began.  After a moment of slight panic, I noticed another class that was shorter and less expensive that would allow me to get both my Namaste and Picasso on.

I had the most amazing yoga experience ever. Even though I didn’t know some of the poses, it was totally cool. I got lost in the movement and crossed one thing off of my summer bucket list. A quick change later, it was off to Paint Nite. If you have not been to a Paint Nite, please go. It’s like Bob Ross meets Happy Hour. The teacher gives step by step instructions of what to paint and how. I’ll admit it. Several times I got lost in the brush strokes and let myself go. There are parts of the painting that I like and don’t like, but I am still searching for the perfect wall to hang it on. So share your story, you know never know what may be offered and don’t get stuck in a set plan. Zig and zag to make the best of a situation.


My Masterpiece


Yoga and a Cheese Steak Wit Onions

Wednesday I was still basking in Downward Dog glory. I loved my yoga class on Tuesday and was searching for something a little closer to home.Enter Magu Yoga. This had me way out of my element. Yoga while squeezing a yoga block between your legs? Poses and vinyasas that I have never heard of before? Mind blown. Alex was amazing and helped with my alignment and posture. I didn’t know how fucked up my Chatagrangas were until Alex showed me. An hour later, I was in ecstasy. It was a yoga high that I cannot explain.  Between shavasana and mediation, I was the calmest I had been in forever. So calm that I patiently waited for the woman in front of me to get all of her belongings just to get my flip flops. So calm that I didn’t break a sweat as I circled the block three times for a parking space by Dalessandro’s and it was so worth it.

There is nothing that makes this Philly girl’s heart sing more than a no-frills cheesesteak place. But how about one that sells beer as well? SOLD! Along with my scrumptious cheese steak, I had potato chips and a Grapefruit Shandy. If you have not tried the Grapefruit Shandy, please do. Was Dalessandro’s as much as it’s cracked up to be? Yes, that and then some. I have never had a cheese steak that was like eating butter. The bread was so soft and the meat cooked to perfection and the Shandy was the best way to was it down. It was worth the trip for one of the best cheesesteaks I’ve had in a while.

A Beer with A View

Thursday was a dreary day weather wise but not for my week o’ dates. Summers are for happy hours so I stopped by one hosted by some close friends at TGI Friday’s. I always like to support those around me and who doesn’t love good conversation and drinks. After a beverage and a hot dog (it was free), I decided to venture next door to Assembly, the new roof top bar at the Logan Hotel.  As I walked towards the elevator, I was met by a lovely attendant who told me that due to the rain the rooftop was closed and that they would text me when it was open.  I just grabbed a beer ($6.00 – this will be important later),trolled social media, and planned some blog posts while I waited out Mother Nature.

Soon my phone notified me that the rooftop open. I was escorted (yes escorted) to the bar. I felt somewhat important for a second, until a server asked me if there was someone on the elevator with me. No bitch, I just came up by myself like I owned the place. I should have known then that my relationship with Assembly would be a short lived one. I quickly glanced over the bar menu and saw they had Corona for $6 (again, this will make sense soon). I ordered one, which according to the menu should be $6. When my man said $9, I thought I misheard him. My suspicions were confirmed when he took my $9. It’s not his fault for the upcharge. He just works there. Like Elsa, I let that shit go.


Yes, this is the most expensive Corona Ever!

I am A Bad Ass

I honestly tried to enjoy the view. I tried to enjoy my absurdly overpriced  Corona, I tried to enjoy the atmosphere, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get into. I realized then and there over my ridiculously expensive imported beer that I am not about this life. I am not one to see and be seen. I don’t need to be in the hot spot to feel like I made it. And that is fucking liberating. To finally realize who you are and NOT be ashamed of it is pretty bad ass, Wonder Woman here I come. I did something that I never do. From my early drinking days at University of Delaware. I was taught not to waste a drink. You get a drink, you finish it. End of story. With my new found badassness  and big girl pants. I put my Corona (I had like a 1/4 of the bottle left) and walked out. BAM! And another first, I actually left when I felt uncomfortable. I would usually stay hoping that unicorns and rainbows would magically appear and make everything right. But not today. I wasn’t feeling the room, so I left the room. Damn that felt good.

Foods, Brews, and A Kick Ass Time

As my week of awesomeness came to an end on Friday, I had my sights and taste buds ready for Buck-A-Shuck at the Oyster House. I hade been dreaming of my dozen oysters and beer for what seemed like forever.To my shock, horror, and dismay, The Oyster House was packed. Not a seat to be had.  I went to another bar that was having Buck-A-Shuck happy hour, Pennsylvania 6, only to find that there were no seats at the bar either. Again, I could tuck tail and run or make the most out of this situation. I used the Spotluck app to see what else was around. Fergie’s Pub it was. I was a little skeptical. No one was at the bar, It was practically empty. “Just go in and sit down,” my gut said. So I did. What followed was the most amazing four hours. From beer tasting (thanks to an awesome bartender) to conversations about steam trains, camping, and talking with a guy who is Anderson Cooper’s second cousin. I mean I couldn’t make this up if I tried. And I wouldn’t want to. Before I knew it, its was 10:30 and Cinderella had to get home.


One of the Delicious Beers at Fergie’s Pub


And one of it’s friends…

Final Thoughts… Like I haven’t Had Enough Things to Say

For those five days, I was a totally different person. I guess, I was finally me. I usually go with the flow, but this was different, I got out of my rut and lived. There was no more going home and Netflix and Chill (that is reserved for Sundays). I got out and experienced life. For those 5 days, I was living and it felt damn good! So. ladies. If you want to be a bad ass, go date yourself for a week, It doesn’t have to be extravagant. Go to the movies or happy hour. Take a class or go out to dinner BY YOURSELF! If you don’t know what you want in life, who else will?

Later Days,



How I Conquered My Soft Pretzel Habit

Well, I did it! I finished the Ultimate Reset. Yes it was a couple of weeks ago, and yes I am just getting around to writing about it now. Don’t judge me Bro.

The Final Countdown

I went into the last week of the Ultimate Reset knowing that I had come so far and there was nothing that was going to stop me. I planned my meals, and by planned, I mean actually wrote out what I was going to eat each day (even on the weekends). I had finally purchased enough food (and then some) to last me the entire week. And I had made a commitment to myself to do yoga every day.

Before I knew it, Day 21 had arrived and it was glorious. I had completed the most intense 21 days of my life. I had made it to the finish line. You know by now that I keeps it 100%. So I do have a slight confession to make. I had a party to go to at 2pm on Sunday, so I go up super early and took my supplements and water as I was supposed to, so that I would be “done” by 2pm . Again, don’t judge me bro. I finished the damn thing didn’t I? I knew that I was going to be hard, and at times it was. When the cupcakes and salt water taffy were staring me in the face. When the lovely aroma of a Whopper Junior danced into my nostrils. Yes, the temptation was strong and real, but my resolve to complete this, was so much stronger.

So What Are Your Results?

Yeah, yeah I know what you are saying. Mentally you got your shit together, but what about your weight? How much weight did you lose? As I stated in my Day 1 post, the scale and I broke up a long time ago. I only know how much I weighed during week 2 (145 lbs) because I went to the doctor. But I did shrink a little. See for yourself:


Photographer I am not, but damn that’s a difference!

Not to toot my own horn, but damn girl! And that is with no cardio, eating fruits and vegetables, drinking a shit ton of water, and taking supplements. How bout them apples? From my estimation (pants size) I went from a size 4/6 to a 2/4. Time to go shopping ( the Banana Republic Outlet on Chestnut Street is my new happy place).

Life After the Ultimate Reset

In case you are wondering,  I did have meat and dairy after the Reset. I did not eat an entire cow, but there may have been some hot wings, milkshakes, cheese wiz fries, and a glorious Dalessandro’s cheesesteak. And you know what…. I am not digging the meat. I can really do without it. I used to be the queen of the Surf and Turf (I was that 7 year old ordering lobster and steak at dinner. Thanks Daddy). But I am now Team No Meat, for the majority of the month. That doesn’t mean that when Shark Week comes around, I would deprive myself of the meat that I am craving, but it is not longer a staple of my diet.

Another good thing about the Ultimate Rest (there really are no cons) is that I learned to be adventurous with my food and cooking techniques. I used to cook the shit out of food. Like cook it beyond recognition. Zucchini isn’t supposed to be mushy? Who knew! A salad with only 5 ingredients can fill me up for hours and only takes minutes to prepare? Sign me up! Cooking is now one of the most relaxing parts of my week (besides yoga). I get lost in chopping, stirring, and sautéing and before I know it, 2 hours has flown by and I don’t have to worry about what I am eating all week. And me and bad carbs have had a permanent break up. Well, I do have a thing for salt and vinegar potato chips, I don’t know where that came from, but I have not had popcorn or a soft pretzel in about a month. These used to be required eating. Not anymore. It all about replacing food, not removing it.

My New Soulmate Workout

I also don’t miss cardio. I have been on the fence about what program to do now that I can workout strenuously. but my heart and mind continue to go back to yoga. I really have no drive to get all sweaty and throw some weight around. I’m saying that now, but things my change. Never say never. But yoga will always be a part of my workout/mindfulness routine, I think I have find my true soulmate workout. The stress and frustration of the day goes away after one big inhale. After one sun salutation, I am in the zone! After 30 minutes, yoga brain in full effect For the uninitiated, yoga brain is that blissful state when nothing matters, People could curse you out and you could care less. All is right with the world. It is an amazing and additicitve feeling.

Should You Do The Ultimate Reset?

This program was amazing!!! In three weeks, I got rid of my dependency on chocolate and soft pretzels. I found the calming and restorative powers of yoga and meditation, and that I sucked as a cook. The Ultimate Reset is perfet for those who want to make the transition to vegan or vegetarian, are looking to do a deep detox where you can eat, or want to get right with themselves. The program is super easy to follow. Everything is lad out and you just have to follow the plan. Is it hard? Yes. Will there be temptation? Absolutely! But you are capable of doing anything you put your mind to!

I sure was!

If you have any questions about the Ultimate Reset, or are interested in the program, comment below or email me at

Later Days,







Week Two of the Ultimate Reset – Meals, Mindfulness, and Meat

A new week, a new phase of the Ultimate Reset. This week – Detox. Yup. Now that my body was prepared, it was time to rid it of all junk that was messing me up. This week included the addition of a detox drink (fiber) three times a day. It did not taste that bad; a lot better than the power greens. It was like taking a shot of liquefied spinach. Yeah, I make that face every time I drink it. And since we are on the subject of detox, I guess we need to venture into poo land. Yes, I did go and yes it was healthy. And I am done with that topic.

The meals stayed the same: fruit for breakfast (strawberries, blackberries, blueberries. and raspberries). Where have blackberries been my whole life?? I could eat (and have) 2 cups of them with no problem. I took my Veggie Stir fry for lunch and had a huge (1 bunch of romaine lettuce huge) Greek salad, with only 5 olives (first time in my life I counted the olives I was eating) for dinner. Also for dinner, I had an amazing corn and edamame succotash and sweet potato. OMG! These are my new favorite meals. And this week, I kind of got it right with the grocery shopping, just had to make one quick stop at Trader Joe’s. Although it took almost two hours, it was a most productive two hours. I actually enjoyed cooking. I mean a lot. I baked all the sweet potatoes at once and put them each in a sandwich bag. Into the fridge they went. I also bagged my fruit for breakfast. It made packing lunch and reheating dinner a breeze. As the week went on, I was in the groove. Eating, drinking a whole bunch of water, yoga, and meditating. 

Yes. I started practicing yoga and meditation. They say that you get more out of meditating while on a detox or cleanse. Clean your body, clean your mind. And they weren’t kidding. Between 10 minutes of meditating and 30 minutes of yoga, I am the calmest and most centered I have been in my life. I genuinely feel like I am living in the moment. The first day of yoga was painful. I was tight. Like couldn’t touch my toes tight. It was awful. But in that moment when I felt like if I moved another centimeter that my hamstrings would pop, I knew this is what I needed. This is what I needed right now, to clear my head of all the negative voices and just be me. Just Be Bianca. And meditating? Whoa. I downloaded an app, Calm. It provides guided meditation as well as a 7 day intro into mediation. Phase II is seven days… Perfect timing Universe! By the second day, I couldn’t function without it. I mean I could, but something felt off about my day. Who knew that sitting still for 10 minutes listening to beach sounds would do a wonder of good? It does and I am going to stick with it.

I was on a roll. Everything was on point. And then Saturday happened.

I knew that I was going to the pool. I knew that there would be drinks at the pool. I told myself that I would not drink and find something on the menu to eat. I did eat hummus, veggies, honey dew, and cantaloupe. I did have 2 Grapefruit Summer Shandys. If you like Shandy beer, please taste this. It is amazing. Get off the wagon, get back on. Later that night, I watched as the rest of my family devoured ribs, fried chicken, potato salad, and greens with bacon (“she can’t eat them, put the bacon in”) while I enjoyed my edamame and corn succotash and sweet potato, staying away from the sangria. I bid my family adieu and went home. And then the real half Gainer off the wagon happened. Some people at my apartment building were having a cookout. I was embracing change and felt the need to be more social. Yeah you know what happens next, drinks and food. But not just any food: Chicken Kabobs, hot dogs, pulled pork. Yeah. I dove head first off of the wagon into a meat-filled kiddie pool.

The next morning I woke up with no hangover (thank goodness), but lethargic. Like, I could not function lethargic. I had absolutely no energy at all. I blame the meat. Before the Olympic swan dive, I would pop up out of bed and get going. Not that day. And finding Thundercats on Amazon Prime did not help the situation either. I did not want to get out of my comfy cocoon, but I did. I got back right on the wagon like Saturday night didn’t happen. For the first time in a while, I didn’t rake myself over a bed of hot coals for what I did. I channeled my inner Elsa and let it go. And that felt damn good. I’m starting to understand that shit happens and to acknowledge it and move on. And that’s what I intend to do.

What else…. Oh, I am getting the best sleep ever, like baby wrapped in a blanket sleep. There are some days when I fall asleep at 9. Seriously, I’m yawning by 8:30 and out by 9:15. Then there are days when I can’t fall asleep. I play my iPad or check Facebook a hundred thousand times before I doze off. And there have been dreams, weird dreams that don’t make any sense at all. I can’t remember any of them, but I did have them. I have drank more fluid this week than the law allows, so much so that I have to get up in the middle of the night even though I stopped drinking any fluid around 6pm. I have no idea why, but it is slightly annoying. There have been breakouts. They say that this can happen during weeks 2 or 3, but I was not expecting bacne. Not a lot, but enough to say, “It’s working.” And I did go to the doctor, perfect bill of health! Even my blood pressure was perfect (122/79), and I hadn’t heard that in forever.

14 days down, 7 days to go. There is no turning back now. You start, you finish. You get off the wagon, you get back on. You do you. That’s all anyone can ask for.

Later Days,




So You Want to Do the Ultimate Reset

The Calm Before the Storm

I have always wanted to do the Ultimate Reset since I became a Beachbody coach, but it was expensive, way expensive (almost $300). So when it went on sale ($199, $169 with my Coach discount) I clicked the pay now button and immediately my stomach churned. I made the right decision. It’s time to make some drastic changes in my life, so why not go all in? The Ultimate Reset is in a nutshell a 3 week cleanse/detox where you take supplements and follow a vegan diet for the last two weeks. You can eat meat and dairy the first week. Since I am already mostly vegan since Frankie’s eviction, the diet part was not the problem. Well, maybe my weekly trip the Halal Cart (20th and Market #justsayin) was a bit much and I could (or could not) go without the large cup of coffee in the morning. I knew it was going to be intense. I was not prepared for what arrived at my door step.  Continue reading

Welcome to the Summer of Bee

Well, Mother Nature has thrown us of a roller coaster loop in the Northeast the past month. It was Seattle soupy for quite some time. I forgot what sunshine felt like.  But maybe Mother Nature was sick of the “April Showers Bring May Flowers Act.” Maybe she wanted us to know who exactly was in charge. Maybe Mother Nature was tired of being in the same rut… spring, summer, fall, then winter. Maybe was sick of the same shit, wiggled out of her Spanx and said, fuck it! It’s going to be 50 and raining in May and you are going to like it! Maybe I need to learn a lesson from Mama Nature and say fuck you to my current routine and spice things up a bit.

And what better time for a change of pace than summer. Those glorious 3 months when flings, fun, and frivolity reign supreme. I am always down for weekend getaways to New York or Virginia. But this year, this year is going to be different. It’s time to say adios to the blah old Bianca. I officially dubbed the next 3-4 months depending on how long is stays warm, “The Summer of Bee”. No more little Miss Quiet! It’s time to take this town by storm, with all the gusto I can with on a very limited entertainment budget.


I’m Cool for the Sumer

This isn’t about finding a hobby, a way to pass the time, or a man. This is about discovering the real me. The me that has been locked away longer than the recipe for Colonel Sander’s fried chicken. Yes people! This is the summer that I, Bianca S, get my groove back (or finally gets it depending on your interpretation).

Change is a comin’

The wheels of change have already been set in motion. I am starting to live life on the edge and it feels great. How you say? What if I told you that I recently stayed out way past bedtime on a Thursday night and had actual conversations with men? This may not seem like a “thing”, but it is a huge fuckin deal in the world of Bianca. I don’t know who this woman is, but I like her. I like her a lot. I think that we will have a lot of fun together. What is on deck for the summer of Bee, let’s take a look shall we:

1.)  Hair Cut (post coming up soon!)

2.)  The Ultimate Rest: 21 Day Vegan Detox/Cleanse (probably the next few posts)

3.)  A random night out

4.)  Solo Dinner

5.)  …..

Yup that’s all I have… right now. And that’s where you come in. What’s a pretty single girl in the City supposed to do? I need ideas people. And there are a few restrictions a.) budget is $100 or less ( and the haircut and Ultimate Reset are over budget, and I don’t care) b.) fun c.) interesting d.) legal ( I don’t have bail money) e.) ethical (I don’t want to piss off Jesus.


What Should I Do This Summer?


So, what are you waiting for? Comment below with your suggestions and let’s make the Summer of Bee totally wickedly awesome!

Later Days


Being Bianca S is Hard But It’s Getting Better


depressed woman

Life is Hard

Being Bianca S is hard. Being 35 is hard. Being Bianca S at 35 is really hard. I must be going through some mid-30’s crisis because for the past few days. I have not been myself at all. Have you ever felt like that? You know that you need to move in a different direction, but someone has put crazy glue on the soles of your shoes and you can’t move? If not, I can tell you that it is the most depressing, frustrating feeling in the world. Knowing that you need to change something, but don’t know what to change or how to do it.

There was so much that I wanted to accomplish by 30: married, kids, house, and amazing career. But here I am at 35: single, a dog and a cat, in a one-room apartment, with a job were I get to listen to people complain 99.9% of the time. Sometimes when reality comes crashing into your face like a ton of bricks, you need to just soak it all in as is. Right now, it feels like everyone around me has their shit together, and I here I am standing in the middle of the street, in my underwear with my finger up my nose. There’s a visual for you.

People say that you shouldn’t compare yourself to anyone else and they are completely right.  But when you are in the midst of a total mid-30’s anxiety attack, it is very hard not to. It is so hard not to wallow in the pool of self-pity that is all the shoes, clothes, bags and experiences you can’t have because your wallet is empty. To be constantly reminded every time you scroll through your Facebook news feed that you are husbandless, childless, and absolutely going nowhere right now.

And that’s when it hit me. This is just “right now” not forever. There is a chance to turn things around and be who I am supposed to be. Boom – another wall. Who the hell am I supposed to be? Let the anxiety attack begin again. Let me let you in a little secret and maybe you’ve heard this story before. Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was taught that if you work hard, are respectful, and do what is asked of you, she will be successful. And she did. She worked hard, did everything that was asked of her and more, and then, shazam. She’s fired from her job, took a job at a much lower salary just so she would have pay check, was worked like a government mule until she couldn’t take it anymore. She left that job for another one, which while paying more, is mind numbingly boing and way to administrative for her liking. The young girl then goes on to start a couple of side hustles hoping that one will help her pay bills and pan out to become her passion all while trying to piece together some sort of social life to help her forget about her less than exciting career.

Sound familiar? Well, this has been me for the past three years. Going from situation to situation, trying to move up in the world and get my life together all at the same time. This has been the hardest three years of my life and there have been times when could do was throw my hands up in the air and said, “Lord I surrender,” because I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the constant rejection letters from jobs, no one wanted to participate in my accountability groups, no one wanting to take me out on a date, no one to tell me that this is all temporary.

Yup, it took a couple (several) self- help books for it to finally get in my head. That this whole fucked up part of my life is just temporary. It could be permanent if I choose for it to be, but oh no. That is not the goal. I have big plans for my life and crying about (which I have done) is not going to change anything. Even when times are the hardest, you have to have that small glimmer of hope that everything will be ok and it will be.

happy black woman

But Life is Getting Better

That’s where I am now. With strength, determination, and faith, I am going to get me shit together come Hell or high water (whatever that means). And if I can do this, anyone, including you, can to. Like Peter Pan says, “All you need is a little faith, trust, and pixie dust.”

Later Days





Life After Frankie’s Eviction

What has life been like since Frankie’s eviction? Besides the three weeks I was hunched over and in pain when I coughed, laughed, sneezed, or moved the wrong way and the other three weeks when I felt great, but couldn’t do anything, it has been amazing. No complications at all. Thank the Lord! The human body is absolutely amazing. Six weeks after being gutted like a fish (I have the scar to prove it), and having something the size of a baby’s head and its 4 much smaller counterparts removed from my uterus, I’m good as new. I just wished that someone would have told me that after three or four weeks, you would get this burning, tingling sensation in your abdomen that, while causing a massive panic attack, would turn out to be nerves healing themselves. That might be the first time in recorded history that Web MD did not tell me I was going to die.  6 weeks after my surgery, I got clearance from my doctor to move freely about the cabin, (work and working out) and it was on like Donkey Kong.

Since my fileting, I mean surgery; my quality of life has improved greatly. The round alien mound is now replaced by a slightly swollen (that is what I am telling myself) tummy and a protective layer of fluff over my 6 pack (again what I am telling myself). No more abdominal pressure, pants not fitting correctly, and other bodily function issues (which I will not go into. You’re welcome). I’ll leave that up to your imaginations. I also have this amazing scar. My doctor did a good job of stitching me up. It is still a little hard (I’m still healing). And I have been attacking it daily with Mederma to lightened it up a bit Since Frankie was so big, I had to get a vertical incision. Now I have a line from my belly button to about an inch and a half below my bikini line. I’m still going to rock my Fendi bikini. So there! And in approximately 8 months, if I am married, I can try to get pregnant.





That was the main reason behind my decision to have the surgery. Yes, the physical stuff was getting annoying, but if left unchecked, Frankie would fill up my uterus and make it hard, if not impossible for me to get pregnant. My chances of miscarriage were increased with him lurking inside, just hanging out. When you put it that way, Frankie has no choice but to get the hell out. Even though a C-Section will be 99% likely when I do become pregnant, at least will be able to have kids.

Once I got the OK, I was really itching to start working out again, mainly to see how flat my stomach could get now that Frankie is no longer an inhabitant of my body. While the body is an amazing thing, somethings don’t bounce back quick as others. My cardio went from amazing to non-existent. What would you expect after not moving for 6 weeks? But slow and steady wins the race. After doing some of my favorite workouts (Turbo Fire/Turbo Kick) and new Beachbody on Demand workouts from Joel and Jericho, I am pleased to announce that my pants are starting to fit again! All I did was alternating days of 30 minutes of cardio and 20 minutes of lifting, and a somewhat clean diet. That’s it! Oh, I should mention that my clean diet consists of no meat, dairy, and very little seafood. But more about that later. It will keep you coming back for more.

If you have any questions about fibroids, fibroid surgery, going semi-vegan, or working after surgery, ask away at I’m here to help

Later Days



As an observer and part (I would like to believe so) of the political scene in Philadelphia for a few years, I have come to the realization that there are three types of civically engaged African American men in Philadelphia: “Those who are”, “those who want to be”, and “those who are here for the left over Politihos”(It’s just what it sounds like, trust me) who have had their dreams of being the next Michelle Obama crushed faster than their $20 H&M shoes start to hurt their feet.

There. I just said what so many women have probably thought to themselves countless times during endless political networking events, fundraisers, and happy hours. Many an hour of my life that I cannot get back have been spent studying (i.e. mingling and trying to control my resting bitch face) these local fellows. Let’s delve into each type shall we? “Those who are” is pretty self-explanatory. These are your elected officials, high powered lobbyists, staff, consultants, and movers and shakers of the city. Everyone wants to talk to, take a selfie with, or be seen with them. They have celebrity status and can do no wrong in the eyes of their constituents. “Those who are here for the Politihos” just came for those women who hope and pray that with the right hair, highest heels, and shortest skirt, that they will be whisked into the VIP section and possibly First Lady status. Those who want to be, well here is where things get very dicey for a single girl who is looking for her Frank Underwood to take her away from single girl status.

Upon further study, “those who want to be” can be broken down into two very distinct subgroups: Those who have legitimate potential to be and those who think they are by putting on a suit with a nice pocket square and some fancy socks. Now if you are like me, a single girl with a plan, then you obviously want the first choice. Someone you can work with and use all of you finely crafted Claire Underwood skills to build the two of you into the power couple that rivals Michelle and Barack. Someone who has the knowledge, presence, and grace to be that politician. Who you want to ride with, in the first car of the roller coaster for the entire amazing ride. Just typing that gives me hope that one day, one day I will be living that dream. But ladies, that sneaky wannabe type. What they lack in social skills, conversation, simple knowledge of politics, and basic fashion sense, they make up for in sheer determination in trying to make you believe that they are, in fact, somebody.

Looking the part and being the part is what separates the men from the boys, or in my case potential dates from potential blog post subjects. Even with their suit-pocket square-tie-sock-shoe-briefcase game, I can see right through their clever ruse. I have seen some cute dogs in suits and I have seen some men in nice suits who act like dogs #justsayin. It is your job to look past the GQ magazine cover and actually listen to the words that are coming out of their mouth. While it may sound good, because you know, he is in a suit and he does look dapper. If what he is saying has you hearing Scooby Doo in your head (think about it for a second). Run away, drink the alcohol that hopefully to have, or excuse yourself from the conversation. Do whatever you have to do to get away from the sneaky bastard. And dear super woman, since I am one of you, I know what you are thinking, “Maybe I can teach him a thing or two. Dress him up a bit. Make him into something.” Do yourself a favor. Take your hand, right or left it really doesn’t matter and with a lot of force, slap that shitty idea out of your head. He will not change. He thinks that he is part of the crowd. If you point out that he is in fact, a wannabe, 10 times out 10, he will not believe you. So save yourself and your liver a lot of trouble, get out before you get in.

Young Clare Hale, if you stay the course and don’t get distracted by the shiny fake packaging, fast talking, snake oil salesmanship of the political wannabes the end of the tunnel will be your prize. Your ride or die political soulmate. Your very own Francis Joseph Underwood. Stay strong girl.

Later Days,