Why Toys Can Be Better Than Men (Sometimes)

I know, I know--the title struck some nerves, but the truth is, well, it's just the truth. I know people have mixed feelings about this. Some women can get into it, some can't, some think it's plain silly and some (usually those with an arsenal) just can't live without them.

Anyway guys, no offense, but this is strictly for the ladies right now (especially the single ones).

The top ten reasons why a vibe can be better than men (sometimes):

1. It not only looks good packaged. Once you take it home, you don't have to worry about it speaking and turning you off

2. If you're feeling un-pretty, if won't care

3. You won't mind if it doesn't date you first

4. If it makes you cry, it's usually a REALLY GOOD thing

5. You don't have to worry about your friends stabbing you in the back to get to test it out because you bragged on it

6. You'll never have to let it meet your folks (Con for this one: You could still feel embarrassed about it if they accidentally see it. Make sure you have a good exit strategy if something ever happens to you.)

7. You never have to worry about any uh-oh's i.e. unwanted pregnancies, STD's, etc.

8. You won't be disappointed if it only takes a minute

9. If it doesn't work, it's usually because its batteries are dead (unemployment or laziness is never a factor)

10. It's always up to the challenge--2, 3, 4, 5, 6 times in a row...

Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm an equal opportunist, so guys, don't fret. I'll get the ladies back on your behalf...

If I Were A Guy

My day started off wonderful yesterday, but for some reason, a series of events made it end on a sour note. They were minor, I'm sure, but to a hormonally charged woman, they were apocalyptic. It really all boiled down to a guy to be honest. As I sat on another Friday night, no date, no one to kick it with, no one to call, etc., I started having that "What's wrong with me?" feeling. And I thought longer and harder. There's nothing wrong with me. I made specific choices for myself that I follow--that I must follow; but it got some other gears turning. I say all day long that guys don't approach me, which is actually very inaccurate. Who approaches me is just not who I want. Nothing wrong with it at all (and if you've read "And so, we wait," you'll understand what I'm saying and how I actually feel). This all led me to the conclusion of how I'd react to myself if I were a guy. So I decided to write myself a love letter:

"Hello Love,

I hope this finds you well and blessed. I don't mean to be intrusive, but I saw you again today, and I must say I'm very intrigued. I knew that this is the right time and I must put my life on hold to tell you how you made me feel when I saw you, and to hopefully, find out who you are. I won't bore you with the same old cliched lines: "How you doin' baby? Can I get to know you? Where yo' man at? Tell me something about yourself." Instead, I can only ask: What have I done so right in my life that God has graced me with the eyesight to behold one of His greatest creations?

I saw you with a bit of a frown on your face and I know that if you were mine, you'd be smiling all the time. Even if you just thought about that silly thing that I did on our first date.

"He's too smooth and charming," you may be thinking and you're absolutely right. But not with an arrogance that makes me unbelievable; but with the confidence to let you know that I'm the man that can make you feel like no one else in the world exists.

If you were mine, I wouldn't put you on the shelf that you're obviously on. None of us are perfect, but any "situations" I had would be tossed aside. The women I was wasting countless hours with, the clubs that I've been hanging at, the failed marriage that I should be getting over, and even my boys would all take a backseat to you. You'd have my heart, my focus and my attention, completely.

Do you have children? If so, let me be the first to tell you how envious I am of your little one(s). To be blessed with such a mother whose grace and beauty is to be marveled, is to be cherished. I looked into your loving eyes, and saw the nurturing spirit that only a woman who knows that her love to her children is their greatest gift can possess. If you have none, there is no doubt in my mind that your children's spirits are in Heaven, rejoicing in anticipation at the thought of being loved and reared by you.

I could go on for years writing about your physical beauty, but I'm so much more concerned with your soul. You are, no doubt, physically endowed, but if it were not for what is inside of you, it would be all for naught. Your DNA is interwoven with not only human genetic material, but with God's love. That love has filled every cell of your body, causing an overflow that has been bestowed upon us. I want to get you to a point of where you are unafraid of unleashing your full potential on this world. You are a treasure. One that our dismal society can benefit from.

If I could go back in time, the Mona Lisa would be a portrait of you, the Taj Mahal would have been built in your honor, your face would on the bust of Nerftiti, and all of the songs and sonnets ever written would be in praises to you and your beauty.

As I close this letter to you, please understand that I have tried to speak as eloquently as possible to you, because you are deserving of such. Your face, and even the thought of you, has made me want to be a better person, through speech and action.

My hope is that someday, I will be able to earn your trust and express to you the bliss that I now have. I'll keep you in my prayers daily. Not a selfish prayer to let God bring us together for my benefit, but that you'll be safe and blessed in everything you do, and that everything you touch will succeed. And please pray for me as I go about my days, helpless and drunken with love.

I almost feel like each day that I'm not in your heart is a grim one, but I continue to get up, remembering the hope that I have in anticipation of seeing your face, for I know with which each day brings a new opportunity.

I hope I haven't bored you too much, and if you are the woman I believe you to be, you are more appreciative of this. Not of my words to you, but of the mere fact that you've helped to make someone's life better.

From the first day that I saw you, until the day that time ceases, you have my heart."

Pretty cheesy, I know, and not too many men are willing to (or are actually able to), express in Shakespearean grandeur, their love for a woman. But this is truly how I feel about myself. I'm worthy of such letters. I love spontaneity, and I love different and unique approaches, but the girlie-girl side of me craves romance every now and then.

If you're a man, try your best to be as romantic as possible with your woman. And if you're a woman, hopefully, the man that you desire (or even the one you have) graces you with spine-tingling romance at some point. I know I'm still hoping for mine...

The Problem With Preachers

How many times do we go to non-church events, only to find out that the keynote speaker for that event is Rev. So-and-So from Lovelight Missionary Full Gospel Baptist Faith Healers C.M.E. Apostolic Church of the Nazarene Lion's Den Deliverance Temple Ministries, Inc.? If you're anything like me, when I see "Rev." as the title for the speaker, I cringe. Preachers will somehow, someway, and are almost guaranteed, to turn a speech into a sermon. I haven't figured out, for the life of me, how the same, um...passion, that's shouted and rained down in showers of saliva from the pulpit, can be conveyed in a speech about volunteering, or a school music program, or even Sickle Cell Disease?

A terrible (and predictable) sequence of events leads to the speech turning into a sermon:

The message will begin smooth and his voice is calm and collected. The only audience feedback is nods of agreement. Suddenly, a rhetorical question is asked in a high-pitched voice, which then causes the audience to give verbal feedback (the "That's right!" and "Yes!"). After so many of these, the speaker then hunches his shoulders and has become animated, he begins to stutter his words, the decibels have increased, and pulls out a handkerchief to wipe his brow. By this time, the audience is now clapping after every statement and the one lady in the audience has started mimicking the last two or three words of every remark he makes. {Houston, we have lift off.} The speaker hears this, and he turns into the grunting, rockin' n' reelin, high-fiving, Minnie Riperton whistle registering, jaw-jerking showman that he is EVERY SINGLE SUNDAY.

50% of the audience (probably some members of his own congregation) is with him all the way. Standing up, clapping, shouting--the works. 25% of the audience (mostly members of some church) knew what was going to happen and stopped listening after the rhetorical question. 24% of the audience is trying to figure out why do they feel bad about not going to church for the past six months after they've just heard a sermon on school textbooks, and the final 1% just had a united WT-- moment.

And you'd think it stops at the speech, but if there's food served, you know that it has to be blessed, and if there is another minister present, guess who blesses the food? You guessed it! Not to be outdone by the good Reverend, this minister decides to quote and re-quote how Jesus is our daily bread, and how God let the ravens feed Elijah, and how Jesus fed the multitude. He blesses the hands of the cooks, the servers, the stomachs of everyone eating, the utensils so they'll cut and hold the food properly, the beverages to wash down the food, the food so that the really fattening and sweet meal that has been prepared won't give us "sugar diabetes," high blood pressure, and won't make our gout flare up. After a few minutes, a little old lady is passed a piece of bread because her sugar is low, a little old man with a walker has to sit down (if he was standing), and several toddlers are banging their heads on the floor because they're delusional from starvation.

Don't get me wrong, I love to hear good speakers and it's natural for a man of the cloth to see the spirituality in everyday life; but as a Christian, I'd rather hear sermons from the pulpit, not at a formal Christmas gathering (complete with line-dancing) that's being held at a storefront.

My plea is one that everyone will appreciate. If you're organizing an event, that won't be held at church, that frankly, has nothing to do with religion, think long and hard before you pick a speaker. If it is a minister, be sure that it's one you've heard before (preferably in different settings), and you're not following the advice of Sis. Johnson who is the Committee President for the Women's Ministry of Helps Auxiliary Committee at Lovelight Missionary Full Gospel Baptist Faith Healers..blah..blah..blah... If you're a minister who has been invited to an event, please be mindful of your audience and where the event is taking place. Most people, especially ones with low insulin levels, have had hip replacement surgery and have toddlers, won't want to hear a full sermon while attending a luncheon to raise awareness for our decreasing bee population sweating it out under a tent in 90 degree weather.

I don't think it's too much to ask. A lot of people, especially the knot-headed toddlers, will thank you.