Week 23: Old: Clothes & Ringtones, New: Friends & Ideas

Lyric of the Week: “Gyal, me wann fi hold yuh. Put me arms right around ya. Gyal, you give me the tightest hold me eva get inna my life. Gyal, me wann fi just squeeze, yah put me tings all around ya. Gyal, you give me tightest hold me eva get inna mi life. ” -Hold Yuh, Gyptian



This week, I got out of my shell and mingled with new people and old friends in new ways, shared my nieces obsession with her new dolls and helped her buy her mom a heartfelt gift, looked at my monstrous pile of Club shirts and made some tough decisions, helped score a 466 (!) and was encouraged to finally fill out that APPLICATION (!!), had some banging food (that normally I would never eat) got a fancy makeover from a new 4 year old friend, took advantage of Christmas sales for myself and finally– just kept looking forward to the horizon instead of looking back.

Bring it, 2014.


Week 11: Last Will

I, Patricia Anne, being of brilliant, but underused and misdirected mind and “gettin’ better every day” body, do leave behind to the last 11 weeks the following gifts: I leave behind fear for the sake of fear and “not doing”.  The last 11 weeks can keep that. Life is too short to hold back on something because I have always been afraid it or for some other stupid reason. I have already left behind a 27 year standing fear of bridges and bones. Hopefully, I’ll have a lot more to leave behind in the future . . . I leave behind being Agent T of the Bureau of CAN (Catch a Nigga Cheating). I am handing in my badge and gun. My skills and tradecraft at this job will be used for other, WONDERFUL discoveries or to come to the aid of my sisters who need it. But, otherwise, Agent T is dead. If I gotta stakeout, stalk, and survey your ass, you are not worth my time. Period. . .I also leave behind the messy girl I was taught to be by my mother. I have a deep love for cleanliness but no talent to make it so.  I leave behind the disorganized teachings of a woman who never got much right– why should I believe she is right on her rules for keeping a house? . . . I leave being the Great Black King Search to the women still looking and to the Tricia of 11 weeks ago. I am the Black Queen. What do I need his ass for? And if one can manage to protect himself from the opposing white army of hoes and pawns, maybe at the end of the game he will find ME. But I am done looking. In the end, the queen has to make sure SHE doesn’t go down herself trying to build the castle. . . I also leave behind the flab. I have left a sizeable chunk of it already and now it is time to trim the remaining bits. This means hard work and sweat. (I was dreading this part.) I have been trying to reach the final frontier for MONTHS. Enough already. This means fine tuning the eating, cleansing out the junk and moving this ass. . .  which will inevitably lead me to the next thing I plan to leave– the smoking. . .  In summary, I leave behind the bad thoughts and the bad habits and the bad choices to much younger women who still have the time to make them. This girl does not. And Finally I leave behind the Lyric of the Week: “Fue un placer estar contigo, per sueltame, sueltame, sueltame, ya.” (Sueltame, DLG) May I never have to sing it again.


Week Three: These are the Breaks

It feels like fiddy years……

“…….When something starts making everything look dull it’s time to move on. The world should look bright when you awake to a whole new day.

What’s shaking in your world?

I don’t want to feel like he ignores me, has no time to do things, negates my creativity, shows no interest in me as a person, Secretive, doesn’t come thru on what he says, does not give emotional attention, turns problems around on me.

I want to go to the movies, cuddle and watch TV, make dinner together, go site seeing, just sit with each. Talk about the future, growing together. Quality time. Communication……..” from my iPhone notes 2012-2013.


This week was very interesting. I saw peoples true colors, had to check the status of some relationships and got to know people better then I did before. I guess you can say it was productive. It always ends on a good note when I spend it with the ladies, family and friends. and I cant forget how the camp girls Rocked It on the stage.


I’m setting 2 goals for this week. 1) Post in my other blog. 2) Go to the gym.

Ok…3 goals. I want to do this too!


Let’s see how this goes.

Week 3: What a Difference a Year Makes

Lyric Of The Week: “When a man lies, he pierces the very soul of that woman. I’m just telling the truth. When a man lies, he kills every reason she ever had for loving him.” – When a Man Lies, R. Kelly


Sunday: I don’t care what anyone says or how I am ridiculed. I will not have my mother’s tire-black lips as I age. I will NOT. So, me and this lemon juice sugar scrub are trying to make a dent in the damage that sun, smoking and diet have already done. And if people have a problem with the term “bleaching my lips” I’m just going to say this: yes, I love my dark complexion. If my lips stayed that color, I’d be ecstatic. But I have seen what these genes I was given can do to the color of one’s lips. Um, no thanks. To make all parties feel better, I shall call it “lemonading my lips” instead.


Monday: Girls just wanna have fun style 1983 homemade acid-washed shorts for the love of my life. Didn’t they come out great? I have always been good with tie dye and this bleach thing was no different. The rhinestone detail and pink stitching just took it over the top. She loved them. So there was no better way to spend this Monday evening.


Thursday: Henceforth shall be known as conquer your demons day.  . .  These very sneakers went into the hands of the offspring of HER. Why? Because I asked her on the street if she needed sneakers for him. I wanted to just swallow all that desire I had to run her over with the Black Beauty (all the while honking the horn and screaming “ding, dong the witch is dead”).  I just needed to LET IT ALL GO. So, I did. Now, this whole LET IT ALL GO thing would have worked better if just seeing her pudgy, little rat face hadn’t made me angry. But, you know, one step at a time.

One thing that I couldn’t take a picture of was the conversations I had on Tuesday. It changed my whole plan and endgame. I have never felt so slapped in the face in my life. If I could have taken a picture, it would have been of the view of his hands in my face while actually spouting that BS. I’m filing this non-photo as ACT better. You want it playa, you got it.

This week I was short on pictures and time and patience and hope. I find myself asking: Where is that damn horizon? I can’t find the bitch.

Week Number One ♡

The week in general was great. I decided to change one habit a week and build on it as I go along. The best part about it is that I am in charge of the rules, so yes I can change as needed. Dresses are apart of my weekly feel good, pretty and fabulous mind set. I also will stop and smell the roses or in this weeks case stare at the beautiful moon and reflect on my life. Starting to gather quotes and build a vision board or an O dream board that will help me stay focus of being a better ME.


The second part of my week was about food, friends and laughter. I need more of these times as it makes me a better Me. I added water to my life again, food with my friends weekly, drinks as needed and of course movies with popcorn. I realized there is a lot of things out there that I haven’t done due to not having a man, but why do I need one when I have friends and family. Each week I will add something new to my life and add and delete as needed. I will continue to work toward a new version of the already fabulous ME.