It's almost midnight. I've been asleep all day so I am awake. I have energy for once. I want to go dancing. When I was in my 20s, I used to go dancing. I also want someone to come scoop me so we can go drive around downtown. We used to call this parking lot pimping. Once, Tasia and I aimlessly drove around downtown in her Volkswagen Beetle with the sunroof down. She turned on "HoustonLanaVegas" by Drake. I looked up at the stars with my arms up. I was so optimistic about life. I couldn't wait to see what I was going to become, who I was going to be. I want to dance. I want to drive around downtown while listening to Drake. I have no dance partner. Tasia is now married with two kids. In the other lifetime, I hope old Holly is dancing or cruising. How dope would that be?
Showing posts with label Tasia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tasia. Show all posts
Saturday, July 25, 2026
Friday, December 27, 2019
35
I just turned 35 on Monday, yay!
When I was in my early 20s, I used to throw these crazy parties and dinners for my birthdays. I would spend all year saving my money and going over guest lists, visiting venues, and planning menus. I just couldn't wait to have a shindig where I could dance, laugh, and get presents. Those days are so far behind me, because when I tell you that I chilled on my birthday, I want you to believe it!
Early in the year, I wanted to throw myself a 1990s themed party with old school music and ring pops. Then I wanted to have a general Christmas celebration. I even thought of redoing the EPIC lingerie soiree that I threw when I turned 25. By Halloween, I knew that none of these things were going to happen. I just felt sad for being old and wanted to sit down somewhere.
The sadness lifted about four days before my birthday. I didn't want to turnup, but I did want to hang out with friends. By this point, most of my friends where making plans to leave town for the holidays. Luckily, I called Tasia up who was able to come scoop me up over the weekend. She got me a cake. Her fiance made me a turkey burger, and we watched The Best Man Holiday. It was perfect day!
The day of my birthday, I wrapped myself in a blanket and slept on and off throughout the day. I contemplated going to the aquarium, for it is free to go on your birthday, but it was cold and rainy out. Instead, I opted to take some amazing naps. My brother got me some seafood pasta for lunch, my aunt bought me a cake and ice cream, and my mentor got me a Target gift card that I used to get myself a much-needed new purse. I had salmon for dinner and ended the night watching reruns of Amen of Youtube, showered in social media love and bday tests from my friends. Yes, my 35 birthday was perfect.
When I was in my early 20s, I used to throw these crazy parties and dinners for my birthdays. I would spend all year saving my money and going over guest lists, visiting venues, and planning menus. I just couldn't wait to have a shindig where I could dance, laugh, and get presents. Those days are so far behind me, because when I tell you that I chilled on my birthday, I want you to believe it!
Early in the year, I wanted to throw myself a 1990s themed party with old school music and ring pops. Then I wanted to have a general Christmas celebration. I even thought of redoing the EPIC lingerie soiree that I threw when I turned 25. By Halloween, I knew that none of these things were going to happen. I just felt sad for being old and wanted to sit down somewhere.
The sadness lifted about four days before my birthday. I didn't want to turnup, but I did want to hang out with friends. By this point, most of my friends where making plans to leave town for the holidays. Luckily, I called Tasia up who was able to come scoop me up over the weekend. She got me a cake. Her fiance made me a turkey burger, and we watched The Best Man Holiday. It was perfect day!
The day of my birthday, I wrapped myself in a blanket and slept on and off throughout the day. I contemplated going to the aquarium, for it is free to go on your birthday, but it was cold and rainy out. Instead, I opted to take some amazing naps. My brother got me some seafood pasta for lunch, my aunt bought me a cake and ice cream, and my mentor got me a Target gift card that I used to get myself a much-needed new purse. I had salmon for dinner and ended the night watching reruns of Amen of Youtube, showered in social media love and bday tests from my friends. Yes, my 35 birthday was perfect.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Fun Times With Tasia
Have you ever had one of those days where it seemed like no one wanted anything to do with you? That was me a couple of Fridays ago. I was just sitting up in my room like Brandy and no one wanted to talk to me! I had to have called almost everyone I knew. I was really sad about it until I got a text from Tasia saying she would hang out with me the next day. 
It was an awesome day, and I'm so happy she was there to rescue me from my life for a few hours. You need that from time to time, you know? Who is the Tasia in your life? Tag me in your bestie selfie on Instagram @hollsthegreat.
She scooped me up from my apartment in her infamous Volkswagen Beetle, Bumblebee, and she took me out for lunch and drinks. We chatted about her new job, dating, and just how we deal from day to day with the things that annoy us.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Taco Mac Talk
Yesterday I took the train north to hang with my homies Dev and Latasia. I had not seen Dev in so long. We went to Taco Mac and I got the appetizer nachos that were HUGE, but forgot to ask for no jalapenos. I feel like they had to have put a hundred on there. I spent most of my meal pealing them out of the cheese.
It was a nice, light, carefree day with carefree convo which reminded me I am young, a well-needed reminder. We talk abo t young woman stuff like magazines and boys. Good times. There is talk of plans for a slumber party in the works. I am always down for a sleepover!
It was a nice, light, carefree day with carefree convo which reminded me I am young, a well-needed reminder. We talk abo t young woman stuff like magazines and boys. Good times. There is talk of plans for a slumber party in the works. I am always down for a sleepover!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Longest Day Ever
Two weekends ago your favorite BG, me not Monique, made her annual pilgrimage. No, not to Mecca sillies. To the Atlanta Civic Center to cover the BET Hip Hop Awards!
I have gone the past two years. The show is always cool, but it's the standing on your feet on the red carpet waiting for the celebs to come whenever the Hell they want to that is killer. Knowing this, I wore flip flops, thinking I was doing myself a favor. However, by the end of the carpet, the sides of my flops had actually become an extension of my foot. My feet were so swollen, I could not even squeeze into these adorable gray suede flats I'd bought just for the show. I know, sadness.
After the show, my boss and I went to Hooters for wings. He was very consumed with the game. Luckily, I had plans for the evening with my girl Tasia and the gang. There was no way I could stay there another minute competing for his attention with the game to have a conversation.
To avoid my feet hurting, I literally walked on my toes to the train station, where I missed my train to meet Tasia. The next one did not come for 20 minutes. You would think that on the weekends they would run more frequently, but no, not in Atlanta.
Tasia was convinced I had died by the time I got to her. There was no reception on my phone in the tunnel, so I could not call her to tell her I was late. We ended up going to a bar to meet up with the gang. Even though we were late, we were the first ones there, and even though it was like midnight, that damn game was still on. By the time we'd had a few drinks, it was someone's bright idea to walk two blocks to another bar. By this point, mind you, my feet were as tight as sausages. The next bar was worth the walk though. It was a Wigga spot; white college kids dancing to heavy-duty Southern rap. I know, funny. I spent my time there talking and sitting, my two fav thing.
So the bar closes, and we are hungry. I am cold, so I suggest the Waffle House for a cup of cocoa. We end up deciding on Gladys Knight's Chicken and Waffles which was full of women still in tight ass tiny dresses from the awards show. Let me just say that the walk from the bar to the car felt like an eternity. Every little rock and pebble I stepped on felt like a knife. The white couples walking past me, seeing me in my skin tight leggings and drink stained cardigan no doubt thought I was a prostitute on her last leg, walking on my toes with my useless flip flops under my arms.
When we finally got our table at Gladys', it was damn near in the kitchen and the seats were stools. I hate stools. Fat people generally do. On top of this, there were only two stalls in the bathroom were occupied! The woman in the handicap stall was taking a shit, and I stood there, peeing on myself a little waiting on her before I settled for the baby stall. My God! The stool was so loose that when I sat down, I damn near flew out of the stall, thus urinating on the floor instead of the toilet. Being a lady, I stuck around to clean up after myself, only to be greeted by a line of pissed off, pee-dancing women in mini stresses and stilettos when I opened the door.
Once I leave the bathroom, I pull the manager to the side, who looks like a discounted Al Sharpten, and tell him that I simply can not do the stools. Seriously, I'm fat and my feet are barkin' here! He tells me, a paying customer, that he can not help me. He can not get me a low chair. I ask him why and he just shruggs. Asshole right? So I complain to the waitress, we take our food to go, and she gives me a complimentary slice of cheesecake for my trouble.
Considering my pediatric condition, there is no way that I can walk to the car. So I sit on the waiting bench next to a very unattractive amazonian couple in my pee leggings and dirty cardigan with my painful flips on, feet on fire, watching Al Sharpten Jr. kick out a patron because she slid her heels off under the table. As I watched her get escorted out of the restaurant by security, I sat back and rolled my eyes. It had been a long annoying day. But somehow, as I limped out to my friend's car, I found myself strangely exhilarated and excited to be young in the big city.
I have gone the past two years. The show is always cool, but it's the standing on your feet on the red carpet waiting for the celebs to come whenever the Hell they want to that is killer. Knowing this, I wore flip flops, thinking I was doing myself a favor. However, by the end of the carpet, the sides of my flops had actually become an extension of my foot. My feet were so swollen, I could not even squeeze into these adorable gray suede flats I'd bought just for the show. I know, sadness.
After the show, my boss and I went to Hooters for wings. He was very consumed with the game. Luckily, I had plans for the evening with my girl Tasia and the gang. There was no way I could stay there another minute competing for his attention with the game to have a conversation.
To avoid my feet hurting, I literally walked on my toes to the train station, where I missed my train to meet Tasia. The next one did not come for 20 minutes. You would think that on the weekends they would run more frequently, but no, not in Atlanta.
Tasia was convinced I had died by the time I got to her. There was no reception on my phone in the tunnel, so I could not call her to tell her I was late. We ended up going to a bar to meet up with the gang. Even though we were late, we were the first ones there, and even though it was like midnight, that damn game was still on. By the time we'd had a few drinks, it was someone's bright idea to walk two blocks to another bar. By this point, mind you, my feet were as tight as sausages. The next bar was worth the walk though. It was a Wigga spot; white college kids dancing to heavy-duty Southern rap. I know, funny. I spent my time there talking and sitting, my two fav thing.
So the bar closes, and we are hungry. I am cold, so I suggest the Waffle House for a cup of cocoa. We end up deciding on Gladys Knight's Chicken and Waffles which was full of women still in tight ass tiny dresses from the awards show. Let me just say that the walk from the bar to the car felt like an eternity. Every little rock and pebble I stepped on felt like a knife. The white couples walking past me, seeing me in my skin tight leggings and drink stained cardigan no doubt thought I was a prostitute on her last leg, walking on my toes with my useless flip flops under my arms.
When we finally got our table at Gladys', it was damn near in the kitchen and the seats were stools. I hate stools. Fat people generally do. On top of this, there were only two stalls in the bathroom were occupied! The woman in the handicap stall was taking a shit, and I stood there, peeing on myself a little waiting on her before I settled for the baby stall. My God! The stool was so loose that when I sat down, I damn near flew out of the stall, thus urinating on the floor instead of the toilet. Being a lady, I stuck around to clean up after myself, only to be greeted by a line of pissed off, pee-dancing women in mini stresses and stilettos when I opened the door.
Once I leave the bathroom, I pull the manager to the side, who looks like a discounted Al Sharpten, and tell him that I simply can not do the stools. Seriously, I'm fat and my feet are barkin' here! He tells me, a paying customer, that he can not help me. He can not get me a low chair. I ask him why and he just shruggs. Asshole right? So I complain to the waitress, we take our food to go, and she gives me a complimentary slice of cheesecake for my trouble.
Considering my pediatric condition, there is no way that I can walk to the car. So I sit on the waiting bench next to a very unattractive amazonian couple in my pee leggings and dirty cardigan with my painful flips on, feet on fire, watching Al Sharpten Jr. kick out a patron because she slid her heels off under the table. As I watched her get escorted out of the restaurant by security, I sat back and rolled my eyes. It had been a long annoying day. But somehow, as I limped out to my friend's car, I found myself strangely exhilarated and excited to be young in the big city.
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