Friday, January 10, 2020

The New Year with The Hope Daily Planner

I have talked a great deal about my need to get more organized in my life and my ongoing spiritual journey to get closer to God. I am not going to lie: both have been a struggle. For me, it all boils down to time. The days seem to ALWAYS get away from me, and I never have time to tackle my to-do list or study my Bible. But then I was sent this Daily Hope Planner by Hope Fuel and it is helping me to start the year off right. 
If you are as unorganized as me, you have probably had planners before that you didn't stick to. In the past, I have made a habit out of purchasing the prettiest ones that I can find. Then they just sat on my bookshelf and collected dust because I lacked the motivation to even get started. I have even downloaded apps that go unused because I figure that I can remember what I need to do, but never do. The Daily Hope Planner has been helpful for me because it asked questions that helped me to really sit and think about what it is that I want to accomplish this year and how that is connected to the relationship that I am trying to build with God. 

Because I am often easily discouraged, I like the space that the planner gives me to remind myself what I am thankful for. It also encourages you to start your weeks off with a devotional. My devotionals for the year will be centered around organization and staying the course. This helps me to not only stay focused, but to tie my goals and needs back to God. 
Eager to start your year off on the good foot? Click here for more info on Hope Fuel products. 

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

Gym Part 2: Naked

One thing that used to bother me in my 20s when I went to the gym was the number of naked ladies walking around the locker room or sitting in the sauna. I would shower and get dressed so quickly that I am sure that people thought that I showered with my clothes on. These naked women just would not quit! I had a French friend that I used to swim with. She would stand and tell me about her day after a swim as I sat, eye-level to her bush after, and did not care! And she wasn't the only one! It was a breast-booty-vag parade in that locker room! And me, being very uncomfortable with my body, hated it! I mean, even as a kid, I didn't change into my leotard with the other girls for ballet practice when I took dance at the Y. I would sneak out and change in the bathroom.
On Sunday, after showering and washing my hair, I grabbed my towel and simply walked out of the shower, my whole back side exposed. I didn't realize at first what I had done but once I did, I didn't care. I walked between two women being trained to work at the gym, water dripping from my bum. And once I got out into the locker room, I said hi to a woman who pretended not to see me, watching a video on her phone. I laughed out loud. Hey 21-year-old girl, take a gander at these cheeks! These are the cheeks of a 35-year-old woman who is here to improve her life and health and doesn't give a frick what you think!
Isn't it funny how things change with age? I am bigger now than I was at 25, I just don't care. As my ballet teacher used to tell me, pissed off as she dragged me out of the bathroom for practice, what does it matter if you are naked? We are all girls that have the same thing.

Gym Part 1: Annoying

Yes, like all the rest of the losers that have an issue committing to goals in a real way, I started going to the gym again this year for 2020. If you would remember, I used to go religiously to do water aerobics, but when I went broke, my membership was the first thing to go. But I have now started going again. Don't worry, I'm still broke. My aunt got me a membership for Christmas and I am so stoked. As you should well know by now, I LOVE the water.
However, once I walked into the familiar doors of the gym, I immediately remembered the little things about the gym that irked me. Upon walking to the check-in counter, I turn to my left and see a girl drinking out of this outrageously large water bottle. And I'm thinking, how much water do you need to do an hours worth of donkey kicks while staring at yourself intensely in the mirror? On top of that, she had on one of those workout outfits intended to make you sweat more. She also had on insanely professional workout sneakers. I just wanted to scream, "This is your local gym, not the olympics, girlfriend!"
So, as I am checking in to the gym, the guy checking me in sees a friend. The convo went like this:
Check-in guy: "What's up bro?"
Friend: "Nothing. Can't believe it is Sunday." 
Check-in guy: "I know right. I am already planning my proteins for the week in my head."
Proteins for the week?? Can you be any more obnoxious than that? 
The icing on the cake were the people stretching in the designated little stretch area. They were twisting and turning while trying to maintain some semblance of sexiness. One sister was just sitting on the mat in a full split, staring into space. I wanted to tap her on her boney shoulder and tell her, "Hey, if you can hit a split...THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOUR TO EVEN BE HERE!"
A few things have changed since the last time I was there, the primary thing being that it is no longer tabu to take photos of yourself working out. I saw more cell phones on the workout floor than sweat rags. 
But the good thing is is that the pool, my old friend, has not changed. I did tricks in that pool like a professional cheerleader and had so much fun. This time, I will try my hardest to stick it out. 

Socialite Anxiety

Once upon a time, Holly was a we bit of a socialite.
I was that girl that you would see shivering outside of the club in a sleeveless dress with no coat because she just had to go to the party and be cute, even though it was cold and windy.
When I first started blogging I would go to the opening of an envelope if there was going to be a VIP pass and food involved.
I enjoyed dancing and mingling. Many a night I came home hoarse from trying to speak over the loudspeakers at an event. There was just something cool to me about waking up with a club stamp still on my wrist.
On NYE as I got my wallflower on at a NYE party, going through my phone while everyone socialized, I realized that I may not be that girl anymore. These days, I have taken a liking to watching reruns of The Golden Girls on Youtube while giving myself a pedicure. Although it was good seeing everyone, I just felt tired and like being a loner. Dare I say, the energy I once had to be a social butterfly  has dwindled significantly. Having to hang out with about 50 people in a space makes me want to lie down and take a nap.
I can not tell you if this is a sign of depression or of getting older. But at this really fun NYE party, I came into the door ready to go. And it was so much fun! What wasn't fun was me. I felt uncomfortable and out of place, which has never been me socially, ever!
I hate to use the word anxiety because everyone uses it loosely, throwing it around like a frisbee. But that is how I felt at the party: anxious. As soon as I walked in, I just felt in the way, and noticed immediately that everyone looked better than me and was just generally better than me. Can you keep a secret? At one point during the night, I snuck into the room where they were keeping the coats and laid down, and by the time the new year came in, I was already walking to my Uber.
I don't want to lose the fun me. I like fun me. She'! But she was not in the building on NYE and I am afraid she may leave the building for good if I don't do something. But I don't know what do. I will keep you posted on either my progression of regression.

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

According to JC- The Art of Shooting One's Shot

Ladies, if you are anything like me, you are confused. You aren't sure where your femininity stands in a fast-paced dating landscape where women are now required to be "savages" and "stallions". If you are anything like me, you are probably disgusted as well, for the news has been grim. The state of affairs has gotten so sad that women are paying for their own engagement rings and buying men drinks at the club. It's a topsy-turvy world out here girls. Those of us who were trying to be damsels, waiting for our knight in shining armor, are being forced to be aggressors, hunting for men with a spear and handbag while men sit back and gather their dreadlocks into man buns. Again, if you are like me, this picture just doesn't seem right. But it's okay. JC from church has cleared it all up for us.
I know what you are wondering:who is JC? JC is a 31-year-old man that attends my church. I think most of you would think that he is cute but he's tall so I think that we can agree that how he looks doesn't really matter. Anywho, he is a young man with his ear to the dating streets. I know this, because I have it on good authority that he has tried to talk to three of my church homegirls. And according to him, he's not finished. He announced that in 2020 he will be officially trying to "shoot his shot" at a woman at the church. This interested me.
"What would it look like JC if I wanted to shoot my shot at a man?" I asked. This was of interest, seeing that social media has informed me that men no longer feel like it's their job to approach women.
"You just go up to a guy and let him know how you are feeling, because most of the hints you think you are dropping we don't get."
Eye-opening! But I still had reservations.
"But wait. If a woman approaches a man, doesn't that impeded on his manhood?"
JC shook his head, his dreadlocks shaking. "Approaching a man does not make you the man in a relationship. He still has to take you out and prove to you that he is interested."
I think that this all sounds good in theory, but after watching a video of a woman proposing to a man, I don't know if it really works. But 2020 is here and the goal is to be open. I will try it at some point. I will keep you posted on the results.

Next Move, Best Move

Am I the only person who talks to their rideshare drivers about their personal life? I think I may be, because when I share the opinions on my life that the drivers give me with my friends, they stare at me with a blank face.
I recently told this one driver- a Rasta wannabe with stitch-in dreadlocks- about the situation with Third Ryan. For those of you who do no remember, Third Ryan was the man that I pined for for a WHOLE YEAR who told me casually that he "feels a connection" with one of my best friends. It was then that I decided to pack up my cookies and go home. A year was long enough. I had to pull a Maxine Waters and reclaim my time.
"So what are you going to do now?" Rasta asked.
"Uh, nothing."
"Nothing?!" Rasta was so shocked that I thought he was going to crash the car, his framed Bob Marley photo nearly sliding down the dashboard.
"Yeah, he likes my friend."
"So what?!" he demanded. "They aren't together. You have to make your next move your best move, get him to like you."
Okay. This is a PSA. What we are NOT going to do this year, in 2020, is advice the people in our lives that we love, like, and that even step into our Ubers that it is okay to waste time trying to get blind people to see how cool we are. It is the ULTIMATE waste of time! My whole 4 years of college was spent trying to get tall frat boys to realize that I was more awesome than their model girlfriends. Guess what: they didn't! I could have spent that time doing important stuff like drinking or twerking on Bourbon Street!
I have now come to a state of mind where I believe that people who are supposed to see your light shining will see it, plain and simple. My next and best move is moving on.

Friday, December 27, 2019

Small Love

At the beginning of the month, I had a doctor's appointment and ordered a rideshare to take me home. The driver was this sweet African man that didn't flip out because I was drinking cocoa out of a cup with no lid. Upon talking to him, I learned that he was 30, had just come to America two years ago, and was the youngest of a whole bunch of siblings. I asked him if he was having fun on the Atlanta dating scene and of course, I asked this sarcastically, and he said no. He said he met women but they weren't interested in him because he is 5'3. 
Here we go again. My heart went out to him. Being a short man is like the female version of being fat. People discredit you as a potential partner on sight. I have shared that, as I have gotten older, I realize how trivial it is to cancel out opportunities with men based on appearances. Sadly, I don't think that many of my friends, who are free-falling towards 40 just like me, are moving towards accepting men's differences like I am. Many of them want the 6'4 chocolate man they have wanted since they first saw Tyrese in that Coca-Cola commercial. But every man is not Tyrese just like every woman is not Beyonce. Honestly, I don't care how tall a man is anymore as long as he is nice to me and has a job. 
Loneliness is real, especially during the holidays. And again, my heart went out to this cute but small young man with long, pretty eyelashes. I kind of wanted to ask him out myself. 
But I didn't. Not that I'm not open to little love, but I didn't get vibes that he was interested. I'm done chasing after guys that don't want me. I wouldn't mind seeing him again though. He was funny. Perhaps he will be next rideshare driver. Who knows? It's a small world.