Goals. I am setting them for 2009. Look out world! Here come my goals.

Christmas - Smells like Coffee

Christmas. Like most Americans, I love this season. I find the shopping, the parties, the decorations and the time with family intoxicating. I squealed with delight when I was handed a red paper cup at Starbucks. I secretly pondered shipping off my roommates cats for the month of December when I learned they were the reason we can not have a Christmas tree in our home. I twisted a single strand of Christmas lights around our front porch banister in order to bring Christmas life to our cozy neighborhood street. I have a Christmas pillow case and a Christmas Kleenex box holder (thanks Aunt Fannie). Christmas makes me want to bake everyone a batch of pumpkin spice muffins and play a game of Dirty Santa.

I spoke with my BFF Jenn about our family Christmas traditions. An advent calendar at Starbucks prompted this conversation. I told her that my sister and I used to receive a present every day from Thanksgiving to Christmas Eve. Now, before you think I am some sort of spoiled girl who also got presents like ponies with giant red bows on them, you should know that these presents were often times pens or pencils. One year, I believe my mom may have used the same pencil every Monday. I think she just took it back in the night.

Isn't it funny how we all remember random events about Christmas. For example, I remember fighting with my sister every year about it being my turn or her turn to put the angel on top of the tree. This resulted in numerous snap shots of me with a red, wet and scrunched up space and her being lifted by my father like a ballerina to set the angel in her rightful spot on our artificial pine. Beautiful.

I remember when we would spend the week before Christmas at my Grandma's home in Pryor, OK. Her tiny house would hold my five cousins and their respective adults. My cousins and I would bundle up and head to the school park. I remember dancing along on the merry-go-round singing that "Tequila" song. You know, "da da da d-da-ddda-da Tequila!" Although, I said to my cousins, "What is Tequila?" Being the youngest, I asked a lot of these questions. They all shrugged. Matthew said, "Let's not sing it until we know." We agreed and inserted the word Tequila with Christmas Eve.

I remember the Christmas I wanted a Cabbage Patch Doll. That year, these toys were all the rage. My sister and I were dying to get our very own. We opened all of our presents - a Cabbage Patch dresser, a Cabbage Patch bunk bed, a Cabbage Patch diaper bag... No stinking doll. I was trying not to cry. Then, my mother told us to look behind the couch. There were two odd shaped presents, and we knew what they were. We tore them open as fast as we could. My sister's new baby had blond yarn hair, big blue eyes and her name was something beautiful like Denise (when you are 5, that is beautiful). I opened mine, and my baby was a he. A black, bald boy named "Tyree." Nothing against the African American Cabbage Patch Dolls, but that wasn't quite what I was expecting. However, I didn't care. He was mine to love.

This year, I am excited about spending Christmas with the newest members of our family - Jesse and Josiah. I am excited about seeing friends who I rarely get to see. I am excited that this is my last Christmas alone (I am setting my mind on what I have faith God will provide). I am excited that I can soak in the hot tub, read a good book and sleep in.

Most importantly, I am excited that I get to worship the fact that my savior, Jesus Christ, was born. He came with me in mind. He lived a blameless life, and yet, he took on all my shame because he loves me. That birth is just as important as his death. Praise God for Jesus.

To All the Men I've Loved Before

In kindergarten I would pull my pony tail on my head, jump on the top of the math beads table and start singing "What's Love Got to do With It" by Tina Turner. Luckily my teacher was friends with my mother and this ensured she found me enduring rather than annoying. Or possibly she had a secret hip flask.

I don't remember a time when I did not find it thrilling to entertain or make someone laugh. We have family videos and pictures to prove it. My cousin Alayna and I still remember the dance routine we did to Opposites Attract by Paula Abdul as well as our two woman holiday spectacular that we wrote and starred in called "Merry Christmas Bob." I believe Alayna still has the script for that show. I can email it to you if you would like to do it at your family Christmas this year.

In light of going for the laugh, I vividly remember telling my 3rd grade Sunday School Teacher that I would not be staying at home to raise babies. No, I would leave my husband home with my kids while I became a successful lawyer. She laughed. I worked it. In fact, it became my material for my third grade comedy routine.

Those words that I repeated over and over as an eight year old changed me somehow. In fact, they grew. I thought that I "didn't need no man" (picture this being said with large eyes, pursed lips, hip out, finger up and neck moving in a circular rotation). Granted, some other things may have added to this idea like losing my dad when I was 15 and being raised by a single mom. Just a thought.

Now that I am a little bit out of elementary school, I see some flaws in my thinking. Don't get me wrong, I can do many things on my own. I can change a tire. I can move myself from one house to another. I can mow the yard. I can stay the night in a house by myself without being scared (most of the time). I can kill a spider. But, I do need men in my life. You see, I don't want to HAVE to do those things. It would be nice to have someone who took on these or other "man" related roles like protection, security and driving because I hate driving.

Calm down women. Face it, ladies, we all do. We may not want to admit it. We may even believe that we don't. But, we are lying to ourselves. Don't get me wrong - you don't need a man to make your life fulfilled, to be at some sort of servant, to love you by having sex if you are not married to him, or to fulfill some other unhealthy need. In fact, I am going to step out on a limb and say, we need to act more like women so that men will act like men.

Therefore, Men, I apologize for ever saying that I needed a house husband! Please forgive my eight year old reasoning. I also apologize for any girl who...

~ has been upset with you because you held a door for her because when you hold it, it says a lot about your character if you do (and especially if you don't).

~ has asked you out or pursued you and not let you play the role of fighting for the precious woman you desire.

~ has let you be lazy by doing everything for you like writing your papers, doing your laundry, by playing the "best friend" or "girfriend who acts like your wife in all ways" so long that you don't need to date us or marry us because why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free or not be persistent in creating a bright future for yourself in school and your career.

~ has belittled you by speaking down to you in front of people or called you out on your areas of weakness in the public eye and not build you up.

~ has stood up for herself in a situation where you should have been the person to stand up for her. And just so you know, guys, we need you to stand up for us and look out for our best interest even when we don't ask, aren't in love with you or seem like we have it under control. We like to feel safe. You help with that.

~ has not let you be the Spiritual Leader of the relationship because we make excuses for you like that you are too busy to go to church or that you will get there on your own time.

Brothers, husbands, boyfriends, strangers, co-workers, friend's boyfriends, and all other male species, what I am trying to say is please, in spite of what you think we want, please, act like men. We women need it. Society needs it. Other men in your life need it. I have a feeling you need it, too.

For more information on being a man, if you are a believer or not, check out 1 Timothy 3 in the Bible. This is about leaders, but it is good stuff.

And ladies, let's act like women. Not weak. Not victims. But soft, beautiful, captivating closed gardens. Not girls who sing Tina Turner songs on top of tables. That never ends up well - even with a hip flask and a Femenist t-shirt.

~ Steph ~

Failing. Often.

I am sitting in our large, extra large red chair in the living room. My kidneys are aching. I think it may be from the vast amount of soda I drink on a daily basis. Since I started teaching high school, I basically have an IV of Diet Dr. Pepper pulsing through my veins. Healthy? Oh no. Tasty? Most certainly. However, I am concerned that I have a kidney stone. My charismatic side is not wanting to speak that over myself. My anxiety ridden side believes that stating it can make it go away. I guess we will see.

The amount of Diet Dr. Pepper I am consuming on a daily basis is just one of the ways I see that I am failing miserably. Failing at what? At life. If I were to grade myself, I think that I would receive a 50%. That is an "F" for those of you who remember getting a report card. (Hold on, I need to go get a Diet Dr. Pepper - getting sleepy... now I am back. Kidneys still hurt.)

Here are just a few examples of how I feel that the sands of my life are rapidly falling out of my hands:

WORKING OUT: I daily proclaim that I will go on a walk when I get home from work. However, once I make it home from dealing with 10 hours of teetering around a linoleum floor in high heels and dealing with 100 teenagers and their angst, I am exhausted. The thought of walking around the neighborhood rates up there with slamming my small toe in the car door and contacting that girl that is angry with me at church in order to make peace.

BUDGET: Now that I have a steady, yet small, income, I am learning to budget. By that, I mean that I have made a spread sheet that contains the amount of money I will spend on each thing in my life from tithe to hair expenses (it takes a lot with this much hair). Putting my spent funds into that spread sheets is another thing. I have no clue how much I have spent at Starbucks (went three times today). I do know how much I have put into savings - $0.00. Awesome. Really, really awesome.

MEN: In spite of the fact that I did talk to the cute Barista Boy at Starbucks tonight (what is it about those guys who smoke and have long hair...), I sure did almost get back together with the Multiple Substance Abuser this weekend. At one point, I actually thought, "None of this sounds like a good idea." Okay, I didn't think that. The Holy Spirit was screaming it at me while the words of all of my friends were shouting in the background, "Seriously? Really? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?" Praise God Multiple kept his record of being a total flake. Praise God. Now if I could just get Barista Boy to love me. Have I mentioned I am open to being set up?

Now, not everything has been bad. Here are some things I have been successful at:

1. Updating my myspace music playlists.
2. Reading the entire Twilight Series.
3. Keeping up with The Hills.

I think I need a time make over. Any suggestions?

~ Stephanie ~

Scary? Skanky? Spiritual? Happy Halloween

Halloween. For the last ten years or so, I have not even realized when this holiday is upon us. Of course as soon as pumpkins go on sale, like in July or something like that, I buy one. I love pumpkins. I do remember in college when Halloween fell on the same night that the episode of Dawson's Creek came out where Dawson's dad died. I was watching it and crying so hard that my friend Kandi made me hide when the little kids came to her door. She said I would scare them all more than any haunted house in the city. In addition, I remember being in New York on Halloween a few years back. It started snowing, and the locals informed me that the ground would be white until April. I stated I would not survive the winter (much like my unlucky family members on Oregon Trail) and came home as soon as possible.

However, this year, I have actually participated in a few Halloween festivities. Here is a picture of me as Snow White. I couldn't find a little person to follow me around and be Bashful, though.



This is a picture of my friends and I outside of the Bricktown Haunted Warehouse. I hate haunted houses so much that I wanted to eat my head at this point in the night. I did okay until one guy scared me so badly that I yelled, "Get away from me! I will rip your teeth out of your head!" I realized then that I needed to simply pray in tongues until we were done.



Of course my students were dying to have a free day all day long since it is a candy ingesting day of fun. While at the mall, Jenn and I witnessed too many young girls dressed like hookers all in the name of fun. Gotta love those knee high socks and short skirts. Ladies, remember, the guys you want to look at you aren't. The old nasty men in the corner with pit stains are the ones who are remembering you later in the night. Nice, huh?

However, tonight I went to a Judgment House that one of my students was performing in. For those of you not familiar with this concept, it is basically a Christian version of a haunted house. I wanted to go because I love my student, and he invited me. I thought it would be cheesy and not so good. Instead, I left wanting to change the world.

That doesn't mean there wasn't some cheese factor, but I learned a few things. When the actor playing satan is spitting lies at us from his all black hell set, I have an urge to rebuke him in the name of Jesus Christ. But how come when satan tries to send me the lies saying things about how God doesn't really love me or that I will never be pretty enough to be married or whatever the case don't I feel the same need to rebuke with the name of Jesus and with scripture?

I am going to eat the candy that the kids didn't come get. Have a fantastic day, my dear Friends.

~ Steph ~