A single, kinda bitter woman's anti-valentine's day ramblings

I just about can't do Facebook today. Just this never ending newsfeed sea of pink and red, flowers and bears, vomit and bullshit. A wise friend said earlier, it's alllll a catty contest of competition amongst us ladies.

It's like some stupid contest "Loookit what I got! Ain't him so great" Would you still love this man just as much if you were empty-handed today? What if he were broke. Do you take him for granted every other day of the year? Hmmm, I wonder. And I wonder how many gentlemen were bullied into buying gifts today.

It's a day where all who are in relationships act like it's all good, all the time, like nothing ever goes wrong, and look down their noses at the single. 



I think I can honestly say is that even if I were in a relationship, I'd still hate Valentine's day. It's just too sickening, sappy, saccharine, and FAKE.

How many of these folks posting their declarations of love and gifts they've received, will be crying in their beer this time next month?

I know, I know, I sound so bitter. Maybe even hateful to some. But it's overkill. The more I try to not acknowledge this day, the more it seems to engulf my space and appear out of random places.

You judgmental know-at-alls

Someone recently told me on Facebook: "you certainly do talk about men a lot."

Yes, I do. Your problem with that is??????

What the hell am I supposed to be talking about? Global warming? What happened in the stock market today? Sorry, I am not a scientist, environmentalist, nor business woman. I'm not even close to earning a college degree. So stop expecting the whole entire world out of me. Yes, I am extremely intelligent and hard-working, but damn, I cannot please all of you judgmental know-it-alls. There's only one true judge, and that's God. Not you.

I am a single black woman over thirty without children. I want children and marriage someday. Men are ALL I talk about it. I'm heterosexual as a woman can get. They intrigue me, they fascinate me, anger me, confuse me, and turn me on. I love them and I hate them. Get used to it, adjust the settings in your brain. Better yet, get over it. I guess they just expect me to be happy with being alone and going without sex. Don't question why things they way they are, just be happy, just be complacent, don't talk about it.

You know, where do people get off thinking they have any control over what anyone else says or does? It irks my nerves more than I know it should.

I will continue to give my thoughts and theories about men. Don't like it? Don't read it.

Sincerely, the Queen of Charminland.

Happy birthday to my favorite little person, Miss Haven

On November 18th, 2004, us Bristols were blessed with the most precious friendly little angel ever. Happy birthday to my niece Haven Kabria May Parker, she will be 7 years old this Thursday. She is in first grade and making a lot of friends in her new Atlanta home. Haven also enjoys all kinds of baby dolls, kids' TV shows, music and of course snuggling up with and hanging out with her Auntie :)

Enthralled, yet undecided about down-south livin'..........

If you know me well enough, chances are, you've heard me gripe about living in Cincinnati.

Don't get me wrong. It's a great place if you like 6-7 months of winter, or one freezing day and a steaming hot day the next, conservatives run amuck, there are no available single men, it's boring, folks are stuck up for no reason, mean, rude, attitudes, ghetto, okay, I guess I'll stop there.

I'm sure there are places just as bad as Cincinnati, or worse down south: but I'm willing to take the time to find out. I am ready to move down south. Something about all of it entices me. I don't know what I like more, the delicious-mouth watering food, the laid-back atmosphere, the men and their lazy, yet exciting (me) accents........it's just all so wonderful. Yeah, I know, the last time I literally lived down south when I was a small child. But I've visited enough to have a pretty good feeling about it. All I know is that they're not giving you the evil eye for just existing in Florida and Tennessee like they do here in the Nati. And I know they're not breaking out the really heavy coats until January, if they have to break them out at all.

I know, I know, not everything about the south is wonderful. For some reason, for a while now, I've been curious about Houston. Everything about it seems like it would be so much more wonderful than Cincinnati. The worst complaints that I've heard so far is that the sun is hotter than hell itself and that everything's spread out. Two minor annoyances that I can easily tolerate for a change of scenery that I've been subjected to for the past two decades. I know perhaps two people in the entire city. Yet, I'm ready to venture into a city over 7 million people because 1) I'm surely to find a job and a place to live and 2) much more easily than I have in the Nati, a good down south toothpick-sporting, horse-riding type of guy.

And yeah, I know, some of those southerners are playboys. Just like guys in Cincinnati and everywhere, we'll have those few who are incapable of keeping it in their pants. My girl and I joked about how southern guys are just as doggish as northern guys, they're just  But there was something I noticed on my first ever trip to Memphis that I have YET to see in Cincinnati.....the love that the black couples seemed to have for one another. Everywhere you looked, was a man with his arm around a woman or holding her hand. It struck me an unbelivable, yet nice sight. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is a rarely seen sight in Cincinnati, where all the couples are PDA incapable. And the guys down south are so attentive. So attractive. So sexy. Those southern twangs/accents sends my mind into the gutter.

Even the women are much nicer. Not looking at you like they stole your bike, in Cincinnati. But then again, I'm not looking at them.

For the record, I have nothing against gay people. However, this is one of many reasons why I cannot do Atlanta. I can't move to a place that has such a huge population of men pretending to be straight when they really want to date and sleep with the boy next door. Plus, add that celebrity element to the town: I'm not a snooty snob like that.

I like Memphis too: however, people are always trying to tell me how horrible the crime is and how ghetto the people are. Apparently, they have never been through Cincinnati's rougher parts. Every city has its good and bad parts.

Nashville: nice as well. Only, I've only been through in passing a couple of times, I need to explore it more like I need to explore Houston.

Florida: ehhh.......too many creatures. Flying roaches was all I needed to hear about. I know there's snakes. And lizards. And alligators. And I know I can't afford Miami......

North Carolina....ehhhh......they get snowed on too. I love my parents' home state, the place of all of our origination, but I need something just a smidge more exciting :) I must admit there's a whole lot of the state I haven't seen outside of the western mountains.

South Carolina: for some reason, it seems like it may be kind of boring, then again, I cannot judge since I've never been there.

Alabama-Mississippi-Arkansas: I just don't know. I've been in all three states very briefly, but not enough to know why I'd want to move there.

To be continued........:)

Chase you? I'm the star here......

It's funny how guys these days aren't only chivalrous, but unlike the laws of nature suggest they do as they have done forever, they do not like to pursue, but be pursued.

Ugh! Don't you know who I am?????

I am Charmin. I am an exquisite piece of work. I'm different as well as special. A man should be so lucky to snag a fine catch like me. My mindset goes much further than hair, nails, and clothes. I don't have any babydaddies to worry you with. Not that I think I'm better because of that. I know I'm better because of that. I have saved my uterus especially for the manufacturing of the child of the man who loves me. No, I do not have a college education/degree, but I make up for that void in so many ways. I work hard everyday and make my own way in this world. I'm not some defenseless dependent lazy woman with my hand held out for the come up. My parents raised me to be a considered young lady with manners. I am affectionate, sweet loving, caring, and just the best person to be around. When I see myself smile in the mirror, I feel shivers course through my body because I am just that wonderful.

So, for any man, anywhere who thinks I'm going to chase HIM, dream on. Hold your breath. Count to a million. I will not call you. You're calling me, if you're interested. And if you're not calling me, call some chick who thinks you're special. Because I apparently do not. What do you think I look like, calling you in hopes that you'll like me or pay attention to me? That shit's tired and old. Especially when I'm not getting the same attention in return. You could be fine on the outside, but rotten like year-old trash on the inside. Your money doesn't move me either, like some of these emptyheaded golddigers out here.

That said, I am never to be the chaser, but the chased, by the worthy and only the worthy.

May the best man win.

Swallowing the large and oddly-shaped bitter pill of possible old maid-dom......

Today, at this moment, the way I feel: some of my friends will DEFINITELY be grandparents, before I find a suitable boyfriend/future husband.

It's not horribly depressing, but somewhat saddening. That I would come to the conclusion that there is absolutely NO ONE out there for me.

Firstly, I ain't takin' no shit from NO man. That same shit other women put up with to say they have a man. You know that shit. All these babies, sidepieces, criminal records, lies, bullcrap. I'm just not. I refuse. I'm better than that. I'm not putting up with one lie. If you lie to me once, you'll lie to me again.

Secondly, I'm not changing who I am. For nobody. In the past, I felt maybe I have to change who I am. Either be an uptight snobby priss who has her nose turned up at everything and judging everyone, or be triflin', outta control skank with an insatiable hunger for money, men, clothes, and more money. Then, and maybe then, a man would be breaking his neck to call me his.

But that is not who I am. I can't even say I'm in the medium of the spectrum of that.

I am me. Charmin. The sunflower seed-cracking, truth-speaking, book-reading, way-too-nice, long-suffering, easy crying, potty-mouthed, yet considerate and nice young woman I've always been.

Oh yes: I've consider myself a prize. Contrary to popular belief, I have an very high self-esteem. I'm well-spoken, polite, beautiful, sexy, funny, and all that. Bonus: I have no babydaddies or snot-nosed brats to bring to the table. A man would be extremely lucky to find a fine catch like me.

However, I remain dateless, my phone remains ringless, and my bed empty and cold. It is the price I pay not to deal with the mess.

Guys don't holler at me anymore (well, at least until May when I wear less clothes).....perhaps they can see the disgust, pain, anger, and disappointment in my heart. The thrill is gone. Don't even talk to me, my eyes say. Of course they can't talk to me. Either their wife/girfriend/kids are usually right there.

I do think it's a serious crisis: the shortage of good black men. I really wish the men were like the men of my father's and grandfather's generations. Where it wasn't a contest to see how many women they could dog out, to see how many children out of wedlock they can produce, etc., etc., etc. Men back then seemed to deeply love their women and treat them like fine delicate pieces of china. Not anymore. The ones who do are quickly snatched within an eyeblink.....no wonder our fellow girlfriends who are wived up are like "eeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhhhehhhheeeeehhhhhhhhhh!" They too, know that they're lucky as hell.

I think that what some women don't want to realize or face up to, is that some of us are going to be left out. Not that we want to be left out, but there are literally much less black males than there are black females. We'll have no choice. Black males are aware of this, giving them more reason for them to believe that they're pimps and there are more tits and ass, excuse me, I mean women for the choosing.

We'll see......if I am an old maid forever. I'll call the people @ the Guiness Book of World Records if I ever found another that was close to being significant for me.