Gather around, gather around. I have to tell you about the important lessons I learned today. And, to my surprise, it didn’t come from my religions class, or my economics class, or even my history class…todays important lesson came from the pit preacher at UNC! Now sit back and listen closely, what I am about to say may very well change your life.

Lesson #1: Masturbation is the beginning of homosexuality.

I’ll give you a minute to re-read and to try and process that.

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Okay, times up. Now let me explain. God sees you when you grab that Playboy Magazine and make your way to the bathroom hoping that your roommate doesn’t hear you. He knows your thoughts and your actions and he makes sure to avert his eyes because he is displeased. Masturbation is the beginning of homosexuality because when you think about it, it involves a guy holding a penis. Even though it is his penis, it is still a penis. This in turn allows for the idea of holding another man’s penis to formulate and in the end brings about homosexuality. This is all as a result of masturbation and that is why UNC turns out more homosexuals than PHDs.

Lesson #2: Women that are age 18, 19, or 20 should be getting married.

I think you might need time to let that one sink in as well.

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Have you figured out the logic behind that one yet? Well here it goes. By the ages of 18-20 ladies are at their prime for making babies. After all, that is what God created you for- to make babies. You are a baby-making machine. After sexual intercourse, the sperm makes contact with the egg and conception begins. The zygote then moves into the womb where the baby continues to form. What do you think you have breasts for? They aren’t for the many things that you use them for but it is for feeding your child. Women are baby-making machines and should be married by the ages of 18-20 to do what God made you for.

Lesson #3: The correct order of things is as follows: you get married, and then you have kids

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Okay get ready for this one. You should not have sex before you are married. You are supposed to get married and then become a mother or get married and then become a father. It should never be the other way around. Ladies, if you are already giving up the milk, they will never by the cow. That is why guys get married. It is for the sex. You do not need to have sex before you get married to avoid the possible chance of your wife not being good in bed. If you are truly man enough you will teach her how to be good in bed.

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Needless to say today provided a load of controversy. I don’t know where I would be in life if I didn’t stop to listen to the pit preacher!

Ever since I was a little girl I always imagined what my life would be like when I grew up. I had the dreams of most little girls. I dreamt of the perfect marriage to the perfect husband and having 2 perfect little kids and living in the perfect house conveniently located in the perfect neighborhood with the perfectly perfect white picket fence. And with all of this perfection, happiness was guaranteed to follow. Well, the thing about dreams is that they don’t always come true. Somewhere along the road I lost sight of my dreams and gave up the idea of perfection. Where one time I was shooting for the moon, I suddenly found myself settling for the stars. And once I felt that the stars were also out of my reach, I began to just aim for the sky. Most little girls grow up as princesses with lives filled with fairytales and happy endings. But then, somewhere along the road, the dreams fade, the story comes to an end and the happy ending slowly fades away.  I too woke up from this fairytale dream and began facing reality- a reality that I am certain could have been avoided.

I look around at the life that I have and the things that I have accomplished. I look at the places that I had planned to go and the things that I had planned to do and there seems to be a shortcoming. The two lists just don’t seem to add up. And the most noticeable difference between the two is a little girl that stands about 3 ft, weighs 26 lbs, and is slowly approaching the dreaded age known as the “terrible twos”.  Don’t get me wrong I love my little girl, but there are those times that I can’t help but to wonder what if. What if I would have waited?, what if I wasn’t a mother?, what if this wouldn’t have happened to me?- a series of questions that will never truly be answered. But with each passing day, I catch a glimpse of the answers.  With each party that goes by, with each outfit that I pass up, and with each opportunity that passes me by I catch a glimpse of the life that I could have had. But then I see the smile on my little girl’s face, and hear her attempt to say “I love you”, and my heart melts, and I realize that I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sure I’ve given up my youth to raise my own youth, but I wouldn’t trade her for the world. And while this isn’t the dream or the plan that I had in mind, I am adjusting. The sky no longer is the limit and the moon is yet again within my reach. My dreams may be altered, but they certainly aren’t forgotten.  And the list of things that I had hoped to accomplish has not been destroyed but rather amended. You see, this isn’t the fairytale ending that I had planned for myself, and I am almost sure it isn’t the ending that any little girl dreams of, but sadly it has become the ending for too many. Too many girls are facing the reality that I face today, too many dreams have been shattered, and too many girls have been forced to settle. With each obstacle that I face and each struggle that I overcome, I develop a passion and a drive to make the number at least one less. One less teen that has to deal with hardships of motherhood, one less mother that has to find the balance between homework and spending time with her child, one less child that has to raise a child. My goal has simple become an attempt to make the number one less, and with this goal, comes the possibility of one more. One more little girl that is allowed to keep dreaming, one more little girl that can continue to be a princess, one more little girl allowed to have her “happily ever after”.

I love the internet! I love it when I have nothing to do, I love it when I have tons to do, and I even love it when I find the lecture that I am sitting in quite boring. Oh the places that I can go. Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, Myspace, Vevo, and email access! Oh the list is endless. But while I love the many things that it provides, I can’t help but to look at the destruction that is possible with just a few strokes of the keys. With a couple clicks a child can access pornography, with a little Facebook stalking relationships can end, and with a few messages, lives can be devastated.

You see while the internet provides me with access to almost anything, it limits my access to one thing- person to person interaction. Today I went to lunch with 2 of my close friends and interestingly enough, not many words were exchanged between the three of us. We all had our laptops with us and the internet was only a click away. We were so absorbed in registering for our classes, checking our emails, and responding to our messages on Facebook that the concept of talking to each other sort of slipped our minds. Granted, like I said we are very close friends so a lot can go unsaid between us and we can still walk away feeling like we understand each other, but the same isn’t true for everyone.

And then of course, you have those people that chose to hide behind the internet. You know the ones that talk a big talk through their Facebook status and through chat but never quite have anything to say to your face. The ones that find it necessary to rant and rave about how you did them wrong but are never bold enough to confront you. Yea, those people are priceless. It’s just a shame that the Internet has become so involved in our lives that it has even become the main outlet for our emotions.

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the Internet, which is evident through my use of it to write this blog. I just think that some people need to step back for a bit and put things into their proper perspective. Why do we run to Facebook to leave a message rather than calling and talking to the person? Why do we rant and rave about someone instead of just talking to them face to face? Why can my friends and I sit at a table and barely talk to each other but be so wrapped up in the unresponsive screen that sits before us. Why are we allowing this source of “connection” to slowly disconnect us?

Today I joined a number of other people all over the world in participating in "One Day Without Shoes". The idea behind going shoeless was to draw attention to the many children that have to go every day without shoes. The task of walking around barefoot on a college campus didn't sound like the highlight of my day, but the advocate in me took over. So, with freshly painted toes, I began my day of no shoes.

The day started off really slow. Everywhere I looked people were wearing shoes! I never despised shoes as much as I did today. It truly felt like my friends and I were the only ones that got the memo. But with or without support I was determined to finish what I started.

By lunch time the number of participants had increased and I was feeling hopeful. My friends and I decided to grab lunch in the dining hall on campus. Much to our dismay we were told that we could not eat in the dining hall if we did not have on shoes. Our parade was temporarily rained on, but we were determined. Upon exiting the dining hall, our shoes came off and we were back to making our statement.

The day was filled with questioning eyes and weird looks but it was well worth it. Many people that were asked to participate declined due to the threat of possible rain and the plain fact that walking barefoot isn’t very sanitary. But what they fail to realize is that is the point exactly. These children living in third world countries don’t have shoes. Rain or shine they are barefooted. Sanitary or not, they are barefooted. They don’t have the option of putting on shoes.

Today was a real eye opener. First of all I realized how blessed I am. I also realized how spoiled I and we as a country are. We take for granted being able to wear shoes and to give it up for a day is such a big problem. I was disappointed that I succumbed to putting on shoes just for a meal. What about the kids that don’t have shoes to simply put on? We are so fortunate yet we still find so much to complain about.

Today I participated in “One Day Without Shoes” and took a walk in someone else’s “shoes”.

For more information check out onedaywithoutshoes.com

Can we go back to the days of courting? You know when the attempt that a guy made to be with a girl actual meant something and was sincere. I’d gladly give up the “hey ma” or the “hey sexy” or even the “hey beautiful” that is said to every other girl as they pass by. I’d gladly replace the pick-up lines with genuine thoughts and ideas because I’ve truly heard them all before. I am not an object and I am not something to be gawked at. I deserve a level of respect that is nowhere to be found by the many eyes that rest their gaze upon me. Looks of lust and desire don’t impress me. Looks of longing and infatuation don’t stir me. It’s the looks of respect that catch my eye. The guy that truly wants to “get to know me” and not what he thinks that I will provide. The guy that acknowledges me in a t-shirt and sweat pants, he is the guy I’m interested in. And when did my body become public property? When did grabbing my butt all of a sudden replace a handshake? Our society has progressed in so many ways but this is a subject in which we have taken a huge step backwards. Idolizing a female’s body does not equal flattery, or at least in my case it doesn’t. Call me old fashion, but I still want respect.

I’m about as indecisive as they come. On one hand I want things to be spelt out for me, but then on the other hand I want to figure things out on my own. When I am presented with shades of gray I want things to be black and white. But when they are black and white, I still search for areas of gray. When I know what should be done, I look for any way to get around it. I search high and low for the loop hole, and when I come up short, I’m upset. I want control but when I have it, I can’t handle it. Am I just being difficult or am I simply human? There is a saying that says “when one door closes another door opens”, but if this is true, why do I continue to remain at the closed door trying to pick the deadbolt? Why do I linger in the past, wondering why I don’t have a better future? Why must I continue to pick at the scab knowing that it will only cause my wound to bleed? Why must I try to put on the role of an adult, but yet still act very much like a child? Why do I see the answer presented over and over before me but fail to use it? My life I realize is like a multiple choice test. You know the type that you had in high school where the teacher would give you questions and the answers before hand and all you had to do was pay attention. The answer is there, the test has been made easy. All is left is for me to fill in that bubble. There is no need for second guessing, because the answer is secure, because when Jesus becomes my final answer, I have finally found that open door.

It takes two to tango, or so the saying goes.

It takes two to make a baby, but then the other one just ups and goes.

It was the two that I said I love you but only one held true

It was the two that said I’d die for you but only one is pushing through.

What is wrong with this picture, why is it this way?

Why is a man allowed to plant his seed and then just slowly walk away?

Why does the woman carry the burden, as blessed as it maybe,

Yet the man just walks away as free as he can be?

It’s not fair and I will protest it night and day

It’s not fair that a man can live any ole way.

I possess a love, a love so strong to make me stay

A love that keeps me going through the struggles I face day to day.

Why doesn’t he love her? Why doesn’t he care?

Why am I the one raising “our” daughter when he’s just out there?  

If it takes two to tango, as the saying goes,

Then why am I left raising “our” daughter on my own?

The month of March is filled with the idea of getting lucky, and with St. Patrick’s Day falling on the 17^th, I thought I might just join in on this concept. So this time, with 500 of the 1,000 condoms that I received through the Great American Condom Campaign, Lee and I decided to help out UNC with getting lucky.

Before our condom giveaway in the pit at UNC, the condoms were pre-wrapped with green yarn, shamrock stickers, and one of three messages that read either “Don’t Push Your Luck”, “Get Lucky” or “Feeling Lucky?” The condoms were then placed in little pots, because we know that the gold at the end of every rainbow is in fact condoms!

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So recently I went to a training in D.C and I learned something brand new about myself- teen parents can’t be good parents! You know I was so glad that I was able to learn this about myself, especially from someone that I didn’t know and who didn’t know me.

I am 19 years old, a student at UNC Chapel Hill, and a mother to a 15 month old. All these things I claim proudly, but I never knew that a “bad parent” was also a title that I should link to my name. But then again that’s what happens when you live in a world filled with stereotypes.

I became pregnant my junior year in high school and since that time, my life changed dramatically. My life no longer consisted solely of me but rather another life as well. My senior year of high school that I had greatly anticipated turned out to be nothing like I had planned. The trip to New York with my marching band to play in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, the senior prom that I was dying for, or the simple joys of just enjoying my last year in high school sort of went out the window. This was because I made a conscious decision to put daughter before myself- but I guess that’s what every “bad” parent does right?

Instead of enjoying the college life and going out on the weekends I make the car ride back home to see my little girl. Weekends that should be spent studying are spent taking care of my little girl and making sure that she understands that mommy loves her and that everything I do I do for her. But yet again these are all the things that a “bad” parent does.

I’m 19 years old, a student at UNC Chapel Hill and a mother to a 15 month old. But what many people fail to realize is that even though I am a young mother, I am also a very GOOD mother. When it comes to taking care of my little girl, that is my number one priority, a priority that at times fails to take precedence in the mind of even older parents.

So for those people that decided to “tell me about myself”…Thank you!

So its Spring Break 2010 and what are my plans? A trip to Florida? A weekend getaway at the beach? Or a series of nights out with friends? Let’s try none of the above. Instead of these wonderful options, I’m at home with my 14 month old daughter. Though it is great spending time with her and it is much needed bonding time, there are times when I find myself reflecting on this commercial that I saw. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-OqKWXirsU. The message to “Use Condoms” rings out loud and clear, but it is a message that I feel fails to ring out enough.

The prevention of a screaming kid a grocery store is definitely grounds for using condoms, but it definitely isn’t the only ground. How about the late nights, the changing of diapers, the cost of diapers, and the lack of “me time”? Waking up in the middle of the night to take care of a crying baby is definitely not the ideal way to spend the night, especially when you have school the next morning, you’ve gotten hardly any sleep and you’ve exhausted all ideas as to what is wrong with the baby. And the diapers, they have a way of taking on the most unpleasant odors. Not only that, but the cost is outrageous. And the icing on the cake would have to be the inability to simply enjoy life. Life sort of gets put on hold when you have another life to think about that comes before your own. But these unpleasant aspects are not mentioned when the issue of sex is being presented.

1+1 always equal 2, but sex isn’t basic math, it doesn’t always equal a baby. Sex can equate to many different things, with STIs being one of them. But again this isn’t a message that is presented often enough. With this product, comes health issues and emotional ones as well, problems that could have been sidestepped all together if provided with right information and the use of a condom.

Spring Break 2010 and I am sitting at my computer blogging as my 14 month old daughter crawls all over me and demands my attention. My plans don’t include a trip to Florida, a weekend getaway to the beach, or a series of nights out with friends; rather it is filled with the stress of raising a 14 month old little girl that is filled with energy and ideas of how to get into trouble. The message- USE CONDOMS!!!