<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:32:35.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Not Easy Being the Barbara Streisand of Evil</title><subtitle type='html'>Don't ask me what I think unless you really want to know!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-114325479273783468</id><published>2006-03-24T18:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-02T12:58:56.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Licence And Registration... Please!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hi all!!&lt;br /&gt;The other day Terrin brought a very interesting article in the Brandon Sun to my attention. The article was basically a very entertaining rant as to how the current trend of naming children absolutely ridiculous names should be considered an act of child abuse. If you want to read the article I'll put a link to the site at the end of my blog.The example the author used was from a birth announcement that she had seen for a new born baby with the name of.... are you ready for this?&lt;br /&gt;Zipper! ZIPPER!!!! Her older sister's name is apparently Pandora.&lt;br /&gt;What the frick!&lt;br /&gt;No seriously you guys, what are people thinking? Those poor girls! How can they live down names like that? As soon as their peers learn of the phrase "Pandora's Box" the older one will have to go into hiding until she can change her own name legally. Terrin and I further discussed a plethora of other horrible names people have named their children. Here are some examples of what horrible names celebrities have given their children:&lt;br /&gt;Nicholas Cage's son's name is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kal-el Coppola Cage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gwenyth Paltrow and Chris Martin's daughter's name is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Apple Blyth Alison Martin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jonathon Davis' (Korn frontman) son's name is&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Pirate Davis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason Lees' son's name is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pilot Inspektor Riesgraf-Lee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Madonna's daughter's name is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lourdes Maria Ciccone Leon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Director Robert Rodriguez's kids names are: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Racer, Rebel, and Rocket&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helen Hunt's daughter's name is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Makena'lei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shannyn Sossaman's daughter's name is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Audio Science&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the before mentioned examples leads me to my second point... people should have to get a licence qualifying them to have and raise children. As obsurd as that sounds, I'm only half kidding. You need a licence to fish, drive, dig in your own backyard, own a firearm , and the amount of paperwork and screening required to adopt someone else's kid can take years! But yet any stupid person can get knocked up and "raise" a child eventhough they have no concept of being able to take care of themselves, let alone another helpless being. Don't get me wrong, I know a lot of really amazing people who seem to be doing a great job with their kids. But on the other hand, there are other people in this world who name their kid Audio Science....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brandonsun.com/story.php?story_id=21773"&gt;Brandon Sun article: What's in a Name? Abuse, plain and simple&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-114325479273783468?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/114325479273783468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=114325479273783468' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114325479273783468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114325479273783468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2006/03/licence-and-registration-please.html' title='Licence And Registration... Please!!!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-114262843862822717</id><published>2006-03-17T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T12:48:33.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Been Tagged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Okay so apparently Terrin has "tagged" me on her blog... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;The rules are as follows:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Each player of this game starts with 6 weird things/habits about yourself. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things/habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says "you are tagged" in their comments and tell them to read your blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 weird things/habits about me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I talk to myself! No really, I do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) I usually dislike everyone I meet. I eventually warm up to people, but initially I dislike nearly everyone I meet. Just ask Terrin, I used to not like her too. lol!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) I can do a little girl voice that apparently reminds people of a child mass murderer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) I can't leave my house without some kind of make-up on my face. I just can't, I can't do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) I have anger ADD, seriously, I can be like "that stupid son of a b-, oh look a bunny!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) I name my stuffed animals and my plants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Choose to tag:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Laurel N.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) James&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Tyler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Brodie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Carly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) James (the other one)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-114262843862822717?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/114262843862822717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=114262843862822717' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114262843862822717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114262843862822717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2006/03/ive-been-tagged.html' title='I&apos;ve Been Tagged!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-114262481094083670</id><published>2006-03-17T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T11:51:09.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ought I To Be Offended?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Warning*: This is not an intellectual blog in any way shape or form, this is a rant...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday I was talking to one of my friends on the phone and he called me a "goody two shoes". A GOODY TWO SHOES?!?!? What the frick! No seriously! Can anyone who knows me honestly look me in the eye and without smirking or grinning in any way call me a friggin' goody two shoes! NO! I didn't think so. I was actually offended! I worked too long and hard on my reputation to have it sullied by someone calling me... that! It's like a curse word in my house!&lt;br /&gt;My mom called me while I was still in the midst of my shock, and I told her what I was called. Do you know what she said? My own mother? And I quote... "Is he on drugs? Does he even know you?" That's what my mother said.... MY MOTHER!&lt;br /&gt;I also mentioned it to my friend Terrin, who has known me for years and used to live with me. She was shocked! And hillarity apparently ensued on her end of MSN. K guys, she used to LIVE with me!&lt;br /&gt;For any of you still questioning whether or not what I say is true, please consider this:&lt;br /&gt;I'M FROM VIRDEN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case closed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-114262481094083670?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/114262481094083670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=114262481094083670' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114262481094083670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114262481094083670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2006/03/ought-i-to-be-offended.html' title='Ought I To Be Offended?!?!?!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-114236020971379601</id><published>2006-03-14T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T10:18:47.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Me To Your Leader</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hey guys... talk about long time no see.  Sorry about the extensive absence of blog writing in the last while, I've been incredibly busy, you see, I actually go to my classes now, so that eats up a lot of my time. :)  So I've been getting heckled about abandoning my blog so I decided to write about something that's been on heart lately with the swearing in of a our new prime minister, the search for a new pastor, and filling of places on the Varsity Christian Fellowhip exec at school: the issue of leadership.  Let me first say that I have been in leadership before and the responsibility that it presents is not an easy task to undertake, especially in spiritual leadership.&lt;br /&gt;Now let me be very clear on one point, everyone is not meant for leadership.  The word lead, or to lead means: 'to show the way by going in advance', or to 'guide or direct in a course'.  The Bible has some very strict standards for leaders:&lt;br /&gt;   'Here is a trustworthy saying: If anyone sets his heart on being a leader, he desires a     noble task.  Now the overseer must be above reproach, the husband, of but one wife,     temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, not given to             drunkeness, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money.  He must     manage his own family well and see that his children obey him with proper respect.         He must not be a recent convert, or he may become conceited and fall under the             same judgement as the devil. He must also have a good reputation with outsiders, so     that he will not fall into disgrace and into the devil's trap.  Leaders are to be men         worthy of respect, sincere, not indulging in much wine, and not pursuing dishonest         gain. They must keep hold of the deep truths of the faith with a clear conscience.'&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                               1 Tim. 3:1-9&lt;br /&gt;What bothers me about leadership, especially Christian leadership is that people think that just because they are Christian, that means that they are capable of leading, this is simply not the case! Leadership, or the ability to lead is not a quality that everyone is blessed with, and leadership certainly isn't a position that God calls everyone to fill. So how can you know whether or not you should be in a position of leadership? First read 1 Timothy and Titus and compare yourself to the strict standards that God sets out, these are things He really expects from His leaders.  Are you sincere? Are you pursuing dishonest gain? Are you violent? Quarrelsome? Respectable? Do you have a good reputation with outsiders? These are questions you must ask yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;   'Since a leader is entrusted with God's work, he must be blameless - not overbearing,     not quick-tempered, not given to drunkeness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest             gain. Rather he must be hospitable, one who loves what is good, who is                         self-controlled,  upright, holy and disciplined.'&lt;br /&gt;                                                                           Titus 1:7-8&lt;br /&gt;God intends His leaders to meet all this criteria so that they can guide God's people not only by words, but by their own actions.  God desires His leaders to lead by example.&lt;br /&gt;So if you can't lead by example, YOU CAN'T LEAD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-114236020971379601?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/114236020971379601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=114236020971379601' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114236020971379601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/114236020971379601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2006/03/take-me-to-your-leader.html' title='Take Me To Your Leader'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-112850284268969593</id><published>2005-10-05T00:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T10:58:11.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We All Live Happily Ever After or Die of Horrible Curses...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;    &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wouldn't it be lovely to live in a fairy tale? To know that 'happily ever after' was actually an option? To be on the lookout for your prince charming on the horizon, riding in on his white stallion, or y'know a half-man/ half-wolf swinging through a castle window in a very bad attempt to save you from some inept trolls ("Suck an elf!")&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, got sidetracked there for a minute, Mike, Terrin, you know exactly what I'm talking about! "You have a Tail!!!!" Okay, sorry again, moving on...&lt;br /&gt;This particular entry will be similar to my last one, so if you didn't like my last one, stop reading now, and if you did? I'll try not to repeat myself.&lt;br /&gt;Ephesians 5:33 says, "However each of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband." Do you ever wonder why God wanted to emphasize those specific directives to a woman and a man? Considering the fact that God created men and women, and created them so blatantly different, it might be wise to ponder this statement in order to try to understand the complexity of the male/female relationship. Now on my last blog I went into detail as to why respect is so important to a man, now I don't see a man's need for respect and affirmation as a bad thing, or something to be ashamed of, God made the male species with that need for a reason. I think the most important reason for this need is so that men can draw that needed affirmation from God, to be affirmed in the knowledge that he is a child of the Almighty. I think it is also important for men to realize that they need to go to God for that affirmation first and foremost, however, with that being said I also think it is important for women to affirm their husbands/boyfriends, and sons because that will deepen and strengthen the relationship they will have with those particular men. I'm not going to go into great detail about the issue of respect for a man because, as I have already stated, my last blog was almost entirely devoted to that.&lt;br /&gt;Today I would really like to focus on the issue of love and why women need to feel loved, just as men need to be respected, and why these needs are so different and important in their own way. Please remember that God made women and men like this for a reason, and I'm sure it's more than just for entertainment sake. ;)&lt;br /&gt;The dictionary in the back of my bible defines love as: strong affection, desire or devotion. My social psychology text book breaks love down into two categories in order to describe it:&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Companionate love&lt;/span&gt;: the feelings of intimacy and affection we feel toward someone with whom are lives are deeply intertwined.&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Passionate love:&lt;/span&gt; an intense longing for another person, when things are going well - the other person loves us, too - we feel a great deal of ecstasy, when things are not going well, we feel a great deal of sadness and despair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My text book also goes on to describe the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;triangular theory of love &lt;/span&gt;which depicts love as comprising three basic ingredients: intimacy, passion, and committment. I find it interesting that in this theory that all three parts are required in order to be considered love. In the Greek language there are also 4 different words that can be translated into the word 'love', but they all have different meanings.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eros&lt;/span&gt;: romantic love (in ancient greek, desire)&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Philia:&lt;/span&gt; friendship love (platonic)&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Agape:&lt;/span&gt; divine, unconditioned love&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Storge: &lt;/span&gt;natural affection&lt;br /&gt;( I really hope I got those right because if I haven't, every bible school student who once was in school or is currently enrolled will slaughter me if explained those wrong. Forgive me I go to Brandon University!)&lt;br /&gt;Clearly there is much fascination with the concept of "love". It is mentioned in the Bible multiple times, it is defined in my psych textbooks, the Greeks had 4 different ways to describe it! So if it is so important why did God not command the wife to love her husband? Guess what! Because it's not an issue!!!! Women are hardwired to love, God made us in such a way that loving (especially when it comes to that special guy in our life) is not something that needs to be asked of us. It's like putting cheesecake in front of Jill, Susan and I, and pleading with us to eat it! Let me tell you, that is not neccessary!!! A wonderful lady by the name of Donna Lynch broke it down for a group of us girls years ago at Sonlife Bible Camp. She explained that men are task oriented, God has oriented them to the task at hand, leadership and living a life honouring to God. Women, however, are relational rather than task oriented, God has oriented the woman to the man. Donna suggested that this 'orientation to the man' occurs primarily during physical relations, the idea being the more physical you are with someone the more oriented you are to that person, which is why it is important that we are careful of who we become intimate with and why God commands that sex remain in the confines of marriage. Let me be very clear, this is unique to women! Men are not wired in the same way. Which is why the command to love your spouse is directed to the man, not the woman.&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned earlier that our instinct as women is to love, how is this for a twist? Men feel loved if they are respected. So if you really want to love your man you need to respect him. Now I know most women don't see the two as the same thing, or even remotely connected, because we experience love differently than men do (we're hardwired differently, remember?). But that is most likely why the command to respect and submit to our husbands is directed at us. Isn't it funny to know that God knew this was always going to be an issue enough to put it in the Bible, it's kind of like a timeless classic.&lt;br /&gt;  Emerson E. Eggerichs calls this phenomenon 'The Crazy Cycle', which is composed by two main ideas:&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Without Love: she reacts!&lt;br /&gt;      Without Respect: he reacts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is basically the complexity of the male/female relationship broken down to it's simplest form...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Stay Fit and Have Fun :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-112850284268969593?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/112850284268969593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=112850284268969593' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/112850284268969593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/112850284268969593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/10/we-all-live-happily-ever-after-or-die.html' title='We All Live Happily Ever After or Die of Horrible Curses...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-112599168749441761</id><published>2005-09-05T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T00:35:16.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"What Was I Thinking? I Was Comparing Men To Animals...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;And let's face it, sometimes they are, but sometimes they are not!"&lt;br /&gt;Okay one of my most favorite chick flicks of all time is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Someone Like You&lt;/span&gt;. The main character of the movie has this huge revelation at the end of the movie that not all men are scumbags, that some men can be the real deal. I may even hazzard a guess that most men are actual decent human beings, who have faults (just like we do ladies) who have fears, concerns, who love, and feel hurt. One thing I'm not sure that most of us realize however, is that men are not hardwired the same as us!!! Sometimes it is almost shocking how different the sexes actaully are.&lt;br /&gt;In the last little while I have been reading a book by Shaunti Feldhahn called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For Women Only&lt;/span&gt;. It's an awesome book, Shaunti is an analyst who interviewed and polled a ton of men to find out the mysterious motivations behind their baffling and sometimes angering behaviour.&lt;br /&gt;In her book she passes on the information given to her by these men explaining why they do things such as: not asking for directions, working late all the time, pulling away from their family and their relationships, and how they show love compared to how we show love. In one of her studies she polled men on if they had to choose, would they rather feel alone and unloved, or disrespected and inadequate? 74% of the men she polled said they would rather be unloved and alone. Most men actually correlate respect and love as being the same thing, so if a man feels disrespected in his relationship, he is going to feel unloved in the relationship! Shaunti outlines 5 area where men need to feel respected:&lt;br /&gt;#1. His judgement - if we are constantly questioning his judgement, he will believe we         think he is stupid and can't handle making simple decisions&lt;br /&gt;#2. His abilities - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;this is where not asking for directions comes into play, by us asking         him to pull over and ask for directions is equal to us saying he can't do it, he can't cut     it, this is heartbreaking for men, to know that the women they love don't think they     can cut it&lt;br /&gt;#3. In communication - he can hear disrespect in the tones we use and in what we say,     sometimes we think they don't pick up on our "subtle" hints that we are angry, they         know, they just don't say anything&lt;br /&gt;#4. In public - this one is huge, if you disrespect him in front of people, especially people     from his work, he takes it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;VERY&lt;/span&gt; hard&lt;br /&gt;#5. And finally in our assumptions - this is one I admittedly have trouble with, I                     automatically assume the worse when the guy I'm seeing does something "jerkish"         when     the real reason he forgot about whatever he forgot about was because of a     plethra of     other reasons that he's not telling me now because I'm mad at him and         won't talk to     him:P&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that us women find odd sometimes is the man's compulsion to work. 76% of the men Shaunti polled said they would still feel a need to provide for their family even if their significant other could provide enough single handedly to support the family's lifestyle. And 50% of the men she polled in another poll confessed that they are conscious of their responsibility to provide for their family most of the time. 21% said it was often in the back of their minds. For men work = love, they work because have this need to provide for their family, it's at the core of their identity, it's a burden they want and wouldn't part with for anything in the world. Doesn't that seem strange? It does to me.&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday night this very topic came up as my friend Des and I sat at the Double D until almost 1 am. She was having problems with her boyfriend of almost 5 years, once I dug a little deeper I found out that they had talked about moving back in together (he was working in a different town) but lately he had been weird and stand offish and it almost seemed like he didn't care about their relationship. After a little more probing I learned that he had lost his job a couple of weeks ago. She also confessed that she has been nagging at him to get a new job, and continuously reminding him of his poor financial situation. I gently suggested to my dear friend (who is a successful store manager and has been working for the same company for the last 4 years) that she might be the cause of his withdrawn attitude, her nagging is a constant reminder that he has lost his job to begin with, and the fact that he can't provide for her like he used to. The fact that she has also retained her job where he hasn't may also make him feel like less of a man, like she would have no use for him, and that he may actually be quite sensitive about the whole situation. She kinda brushed it off at the time, she didn't really believe me I think. However tonight when I got home from work she had left a message on my answering machine asking me what my new book was called again and telling me that I was right! And I love Des very much, but she only ever admits I'm right if it is absolutely necessary! So I found that quite amusing.&lt;br /&gt;So I think I've typed enough to almost make up for not posting a in awhile... I think you should expect to hear more about this particular topic in the future, I'm only on chapter 5!!!&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... love you all, be happy and healthy&lt;br /&gt;You will hear from me soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-112599168749441761?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/112599168749441761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=112599168749441761' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/112599168749441761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/112599168749441761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/09/what-was-i-thinking-i-was-comparing.html' title='&quot;What Was I Thinking? I Was Comparing Men To Animals...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-111448994452840092</id><published>2005-04-25T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-25T21:39:12.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He Must Still Love Me.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My sister and I were discussing the issue of 'love' earlier tonight. We talked about the difference between being 'in love', 'in lust', and having a crush. We agreed that being in lust and having a crush are pretty simple things to do... allow me to deconstruct the necessary components...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You see something you like and you decide (whether consciously or subconsciously) that you want it. Now this 'something' that you decide that you want could range from the opposite sex to material objects (car, guitar, clothes) to money (and any way that you can get your filthy hands on money you greedy little....) to stature (degrees, and climbing the social ladder) to celebrities (I like Johnny Depp, and Jude Law, and Vin Diesel, and Hugh Jackman, and Ioan Gruffudd, and...). Anyways, you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.You get excited. This 'something' starts to consume your thoughts, you think about it when you go to sleep at night and you think about it in the morning, you talk about it with your friends, and you learn more about it. For example, if there is a job you really really want you will research various aspects of it, how much it could pay, what you need to get it, who you will answer to, what hours you will be working... that sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The excitement fades. This 'something' doesn't hold your attention quite like it used to, you don't think about it as much and it becomes less important. Perhaps you discover that your fave actor is a jerk, maybe that job just wasn't what you thought it was, maybe that degree is not worth the time or maybe the computer was outdated after two weeks of it being on the shelf. Whatever the case, your crush is just not worth your time anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You find something new. A new actor, a new object, a bigger and better thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love on the other hand is different, it has some of the same components: seeing something you like, getting excited, but instead of having the novelty wearing off and moving on to a better thing, the excitement changes to something that allows people to put someone's needs in front of their own, to share their possessions with others, to accept mistakes and flaws, to help when there is a need even without being asked, to listen even when the topic doesn't concern them, and to give without expecting something in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that said I have a question for those of you who know Chirst to ponder... do you love God? or is He your crush?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. You'll never find anything bigger or better than God... sorry! (in regards to point #4)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Til next time my freaky darlings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-111448994452840092?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/111448994452840092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=111448994452840092' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111448994452840092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111448994452840092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/04/he-must-still-love-me.html' title='He Must Still Love Me.....'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-111397214895764645</id><published>2005-04-19T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T21:42:28.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's a Witch.... Burn Her!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Well, I'm not really a witch, but according to quite a few of my loving friends I am classified as evil....&lt;br /&gt;Actually there probably are quite a few people that would call me a witch too, and probably much worse. But I'm okay with that.&lt;br /&gt;This is apparently Nicole's innocence test, presently also posted on Brett's blog, (Brett thinks that he is pretty innocent) so I wanted to see how innocent (or perhaps not) I really am...&lt;br /&gt;Brodie called me deliciously evil tonight, based on this test tell me what you think.  I really don't think I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; bad..... ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    (x) smoked a cigarette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) smoked a cigar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) smoked a joint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) crashed a friend's ...car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( )stolen a ...car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been dumped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been used&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) failed someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) shoplifted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been fired&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been in a fist fight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) snuck out of my parent's house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had feelings for someone who didn't have them back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been arrested&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) made out with a stranger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) gone on a ...blind date&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) lied to a ...friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) had a crush on a teacher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been to Europe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) skipped school  (oh did I!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) seen someone die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) had a crush on one of your myspace...friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been to The U.S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been to Mexico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been on a plane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) thrown up in a bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) purposely set a part of myself on fire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) eaten Sushi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been snowboarding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) met someone in person from the internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been moshing at a concert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been in an abusive relationship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) taken painkillers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) love someone or miss someone right now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) made a snow angel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had a tea party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) flown a kite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) built a sand castle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) gone puddle jumping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) played dress up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) jumped into a pile of leaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) gone sledding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) cheated while playing a game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been ...lonely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) fallen asleep at work/school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) used a fake id&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) watched the sunset&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) felt an earthquake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) touched a snake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) slept beneath the stars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been tickled&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been robbed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been misunderstood  (I'm all sorts of misunderstood)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) petted a reindeer/goat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) won a contest&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) run a red light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been suspended from school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been in a car accident&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had braces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) felt like an outcast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had deja vu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) danced in the moonlight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had deja vu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) hated the way you look&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) witnessed a crime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (pass) pole danced&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been obsessed with Post-it notes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) squished barefoot through the mud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been to the opposite side of the country&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) swam in the ocean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) felt like dying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) cried yourself to sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) played cops and robbers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) sung karaoke   ("Tearin' Up My Heart?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;)&lt;br /&gt;    (x) paid for a meal with only coins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) done something you told yourself you wouldn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) made prank phone calls when you were younger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) caught a snowflake on your tongue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) danced in the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) written a letter to Santa Claus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been kissed under the mistletoe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) watched the sun rise with someone you care about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) blown bubbles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) made a bonfire on the beach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) crashed a party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) gone rollerskating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had a wish come true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) humped a monkey (yikes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) worn pearls&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) jumped off a bridge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) screamed penis in public&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) ate dog/cat food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) told a complete stranger you loved them&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) kissed a mirror&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) sang in the shower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had a little black dress&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had a dream that you married someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) glued your hand to something&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) got your tongue stuck to a flag pole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) kissed a fish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) worn the opposite sex's clothes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been a cheerleader&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Okay guys it was Halloween, back off!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) sat on a roof top&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) screamed at the top of your lungs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) done a one-handed cartwheel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) talked on the phone for more than 6 hours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) stayed up all night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) didn't take a shower for a week   (Ewwwww.... by the way)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) picked and ate an apple right off the tree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) climbed a tree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) had a tree house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) are scared to watch scary movies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) believe in ghosts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) have more than 30 pairs of shoes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) worn a really ugly outfit to school just to see what others say&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) gone streaking&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;   (please don't ask)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) played ding-dong-ditch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) played chicken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been pushed or just went into a pool/lake with all your clothes on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) been told you're beautiful by a complete stranger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) broken a bone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) been easily amused&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) caught a fish &amp; ate it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) caught a butterfly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) laughed so hard you cried&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) cried so hard you laughed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) mooned/flashed someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) had someone moon/flash you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) cheated on a test&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) have a Britney Spears CD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) forgotten someone's name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) slept naked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) French-braided someone's hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) Caught a Duck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) Stolen A Road Sign&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    ( ) Snuck A Goldfish Into A Grocery Store and placed it in a 4L Water Jug&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;    (x) Broken into someone's house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's it... that's a pretty thourough little quiz, I think maybe you all didn't need to know all that... ah well&lt;br /&gt;So tell me what you think.... I'm curious to know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Til next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-111397214895764645?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/111397214895764645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=111397214895764645' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111397214895764645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111397214895764645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/04/shes-witch-burn-her.html' title='She&apos;s a Witch.... Burn Her!!!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-111346231673807791</id><published>2005-04-14T02:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T00:05:16.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Can't Handle The Truth!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hello all....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I know I haven't posted in a while... and I was being heckled about it earlier tonight.  But my main excuse was that I didn't have anything interesting or original to say.  Well after thinking about it a little more, I realized that this is only partly true.  You see I know this great, big, beautiful God, and ever since I've known Him I've had something interesting to say.  I haven't recently posted about my Saviour because I didn't want to come off as sounding fake, or inauthentic, or like a Jesus pep squad....&lt;br /&gt;For the record I really do love God, I have struggles, I am so far from perfect it's scary, I screw up all the time, and I don't go to church just because all my friends go. &lt;br /&gt;With that out of the way, I'm going to tell you a little bit about something that has been on mind for awhile...&lt;br /&gt;The Bible, is often referred to as God's Word, or the Truth.  Inside the Bible it tells us about this amazing infinite God who loves us and created us and sent His Son to die for us. So that His Son would pay the ultimate sacrifice and it would be offered to us as a gift from our heavenly Father, so that we only need to accept it and be given eternal life.  Inside this book referred to as Truth there is much talk of unconditional love, grace, and mercy, these words are not often uttered in the world we live in.  We're more likely to hear words like: tragedy, scandal, disaster, lies, corruption, and protest.  Now that doesn't really sound like words of a world that know the Truth, does it?&lt;br /&gt;It's funny to me that we can sit in church, in our youth groups, or in our college and career groups and talk about the tragic downward spiral of the world as we know it, but then go about the day without giving it a second thought.  I have to admit, I do it all the time!  Sometimes you can look today's society square in the face and shout "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"   And the sad thing is, it may be true, but in all honesty, that is not our judgement call to make!&lt;br /&gt;And do you want to know what is even more sad.... we, as Christians, as the body of Christ, as the Church, are just as responsible as the Devil (who we like to so often blame for all of our problems) that this society is as decrepid and corrupt as it is. &lt;br /&gt;Do you want to know why?  It's because it is our responsibility to tell other people the Truth, someone who has never heard about God before is not going to just figure it out for themselves, I sure didn't!  Someone struggled to get me to come to church, someone explained salvation to me, various people have taught me, and discipled me along the way, and I am so grateful for it because I know I wouldn't be the person I am now, without all the people who have invested in me in the past.  Sometimes the investment was large, sometimes it wasn't, but every one of them have been important and served a purpose in my life.  God's great commission was to go out and make disciples of the nations.... He never once said 'stop', or 'after you've talked to ten people, meh that's good enough'. &lt;br /&gt;So, to everyone who may read this post, and who know the Lord, I challenge you! I challenge you to tell people about your Saviour, I challenge you to invest in someone's life, and when you think someone isn't ready to hear the Truth, don't give up, don't stop all communication with them because you feel you're not getting through to them, don't decide that they'll never accept salvation without even trying. &lt;br /&gt;            "If the Lord delights in a man's way He makes his steps firm;&lt;br /&gt;            thought he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds&lt;br /&gt;            him with His hand."&lt;br /&gt;                          -Psalm 37:23,24&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            "Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we could ask or                      imagine, according to the power that is at work within us"&lt;br /&gt;                          -Ephesians3:20&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to any who might read this who does not know the Lord... I'm also going to challenge you, search your heart.... if you think something might be missing in your life, please e-mail me, I would love to answer any questions about God you may have...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Til next time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-111346231673807791?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/111346231673807791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=111346231673807791' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111346231673807791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111346231673807791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/04/you-cant-handle-truth.html' title='You Can&apos;t Handle The Truth!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-111130117166415730</id><published>2005-03-20T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-19T23:23:08.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Really Roaming the Playgrounds of Lower Thinking Pal!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hello kids! Today in class we're going to discuss the meaning of the phrases: Inappropriate Button... say it with me - Inappropriate Button! (it's best to say with a really bad British accent) and our other phrase we will be discussing is Social Filter.... can you all say that one - Social Filter? Good Work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough of that! So I grew up in a little po-dunk town called Virden in the province of Manitoba. Now Virden seems like a really nice, quaint, simple little town to someone who hasn't stayed there longer than a few hours. This, however, is not the case. This sweet, clean town is in fact a facade, a hoax, a ruse if you will. Virden has the highest rate of teenage pregnancies per capita in Canada (or so I'm told, but I believe it). I have no idea why our little town would have more than other towns in Manitoba, my reasoning is just that there really isn't anything better to do there....&lt;br /&gt;But this sort of reputation has many drawbacks and side effects attached to such a lucrative title. You see if you grow up in a town whose only other claim to fame is bad water, you tend to start developing certain attitudes and habits that you may not have had growing up in a different place.&lt;br /&gt;One for example, is thinking and saying very innappropriate things. I quite often struggle with this because usually it's the wrong thing to say that pops into my head first. Thankfully most of my close friends realize and expect this from me, and I'm given much grace for my socially outcast upbringing.&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately I'm not the only one who grew up in the Virden area who struggles with saying things that they shouldn't. I have a friend named Andrew (or Uncle Clarence) who tends to always say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Case in point: telling me I had a nice rack at a super bad time. He really doesn't mean to do it, and you know that usually he is trying to say something else, but it just always comes out wrong.&lt;br /&gt;For Andrew's little problem we developed something called the 'Inappropriate Button'. It's actually an invisible button that we press when Andrew should've stopped talking a few sentences ago. It has since been used on many more people then just Andrew and has always proved effective.&lt;br /&gt;When I moved to Brandon I discovered a variation on the infamous button called the 'Social Filter' which was used mostly for an old friend who incidentally used to spend a lot of time in Virden named Thomas. In this variation when Thomas (like Andrew) should've stopped talking long ago people would simply yell "SOCIAL FILTER". It also proved quite effective.&lt;br /&gt;So this is my universal apology to you, from all the people who have been corrupted by my little home town. I'm so very sorry! And if you ever hear me mutter something under my breath that sounds like 'wow, I wish I wasn't from Virden' you will know why, I've done the smart thing and not let whatever was swirling around in my mind come blasting forth through my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class dismissed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-111130117166415730?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/111130117166415730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=111130117166415730' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111130117166415730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111130117166415730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/03/youre-really-roaming-playgrounds-of.html' title='You&apos;re Really Roaming the Playgrounds of Lower Thinking Pal!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-111111563150301653</id><published>2005-03-17T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T19:13:51.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I Could Go Back in Time I'd Wanna Meet Snoopy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've come to a very important conclusion today... Melanie from Josie and the Pussycats = Sarah K. .... 'nuff said!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If any of you who are reading this (assuming people read this) have already read Terrin and Brett's blogs you'll have heard about our "incident" last weekend in Winnipeg.  Oh the times... I'm not gonna rehash what happened, Terrin and Brett's accounts of the tale are pretty accurate, except for Terrin thinking I peed when I laughed, I just teared up a lot, nothing else! I swear!&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... CPC's special ensemble has inspired me... or more accuratlely Jana rocking out out on the congas and djembe has inspired me.  It's true!  I now want a djembe, I have no idea how to play it, but that's not what is important, what is important is that I want one. (I have been known to get pretty impulsive as well)&lt;br /&gt;So I have decided to jusify my impulsiveness with my birthday, most girls can understand this, and to guys, yes... girls do this! So now I'm allowed to be stupid and impulsive with my money under the guise of  treating myself for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;MWHAHAHAHAAAAA....&lt;br /&gt;On a side note...&lt;br /&gt;Terrin's fear of hand puppets is rather entertaining...&lt;br /&gt;I love being a groupie!&lt;br /&gt;I'm very sad I missed the cowbell event.&lt;br /&gt;Pleasurable can be used in a not good, or wholesome way...&lt;br /&gt;And people should ask me about Curly the Screeching Ear Phenomenon, and why she is an important figure in history....&lt;br /&gt;speaking of figures... Terrin, you have no hips (in reference to your cowbell blog)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, tune in next time for I'm sure I can come up with something half entertaining to read....&lt;br /&gt;G'night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-111111563150301653?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/111111563150301653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=111111563150301653' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111111563150301653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111111563150301653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/03/if-i-could-go-back-in-time-id-wanna.html' title='If I Could Go Back in Time I&apos;d Wanna Meet Snoopy!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-111027278053869634</id><published>2005-03-07T22:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T01:06:20.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Swearing Off All Men.... and Carbohydrates.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Okay.... so I am presently on a romantic sabbatical. It's just something I thought I needed to do because I am completely disgusted with people who date other people just because they are lonely. They don't really like that person, or love that person, they have however convinced themselves that this other person is "the one" because of lack of other options as opposed to actually caring for them.  I have been faced with this pathetic display of infactuation in my one of my current groups of friends.  The thing that is even worse though is that they ask me for advice... which usually I don't mind giving. But it's when they argue with me when I say that I can't see them togther that I feel like slamming their head into a wall and telling them it's an improvement. "Uh, gee Becca, why don't you think me and Penelope should go out?" Because you are a lazy, ignorant, shallow, and fickle individual who doesn't deserve her, so BACK OFF!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Or another person may ask, "I've been flirting with her for months, why won't she go out with me?" Because you are a doofus and she has been leading you on, she doesn't want you, she wants the attention, she doesn't care who gives it to her!&lt;br /&gt;Another reason for my present sabbatical is not understanding the mentality of a former couple remaining friends after a bad breakup.  Why continue the pain and agony in disguise of a friendship. In all honesty, I will want all your future relationships to crash and burn to prove that I wasn't the problem in our relationship, and you will ultimately detest any of my future boyfriends because they are now getting the attention that you used to adore. So really, why do we do this to ourselves? Well my dear friend Brodie has a theory, it's called the Tarzan theory. Basically the imagery that encompasses the theory is that of Tarzan trying to swing from vine to vine but is incapable because he is unable to let go of his previous vine and put all his weight on his new vine for fear of the new vine breaking.  I can see this being especially the case for those people who were left heartbroken, they don't want to grasp on to another vine for fear of it leaving them just as hurt. Perhaps the heartbreaker clings to both vines for fear that the grass on the other side is not as green as they had first thought.  Whatever the case I think it is odd for a  recent ex to all of a sudden request for his new girlfriend and himself to spend time time with you and your group of friends.  Is this the Tarzan theory, is it sabotage, is it social ineptness and naivety at it's worst?  I don't understand this particular individual I'm afraid he will remain an enigma in the worst sort of way.  Grrrr....&lt;br /&gt;So then I ask myself, why do I care, do I really want to see a relationship crash and burn, do I really want to show grace and be friends, do I just keep communication lines open because I can't handle not knowing how his twisted mind functions, or lack thereof?&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps questions for another day...&lt;br /&gt;On a side note I have cut back on carbs and I have lost 15 pounds! Yay me!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Til next time chillun'&lt;br /&gt;Buh-bye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-111027278053869634?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/111027278053869634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=111027278053869634' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111027278053869634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/111027278053869634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/03/im-swearing-off-all-men-and.html' title='I&apos;m Swearing Off All Men.... and Carbohydrates.'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-110972269189659362</id><published>2005-03-01T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T16:18:11.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/176/3770/320/Mycar!.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #FFFFFF; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/176/3770/200/Mycar!.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mini!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-110972269189659362?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/110972269189659362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=110972269189659362' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110972269189659362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110972269189659362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/03/mini.html' title=''/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-110972286232320746</id><published>2005-03-01T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T16:21:02.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude, Where's Your Car?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Have you ever heard Adam Sandler's song 'piece of s*%@ car'?  If you have, then you have an idea what my car is like.  Oh yes, it's true!  It makes me sad actually that I can list more things that my car CAN'T do as opposed to what it CAN do. &lt;br /&gt;I drive a '92 Cavalier, it's not that bad of a make I suppose, my specific car just needs a lot of work.  You see those simple things that people take for granted in a car are the simple things that my car lacks. I have no cruise control, no horn, no interior light, no smoke outlet to plug in a cell phone (oh it's there, it just doesn't work!).  My hood release doens't work, Leroy had to build a makeshift one out in front of my car.  My trunk is the only thing that locks, and my heater fan makes a funny rumbling noise under my hood.  I also don't have a face plate on my stereo system because the morons who stole it didn't realize that they need the entire bloody stereo!!! So the face plate is useless to them and the stupid stereo is useless to me.  I mean really! If you are gonna steal something, be smart about it. &lt;br /&gt;Some of my friends have also enjoyed the fact that my licence plate starts with DRK, it would only have been better if it would've started with EVL.&lt;br /&gt;My dream car at the moment is a Mini Cooper. It's nice!  www.mini.ca - check it out!&lt;br /&gt;Alas... I have to put up with my car at least for another couple of years until I can afford my mini...&lt;br /&gt;Sigh!&lt;br /&gt;See you next time on Becca's Blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-110972286232320746?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/110972286232320746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=110972286232320746' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110972286232320746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110972286232320746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/03/dude-wheres-your-car.html' title='Dude, Where&apos;s Your Car?'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-110962367510396641</id><published>2005-02-28T12:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T12:47:55.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Guys, Kick Me a Phat Beat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Greetings and Salutations....&lt;br /&gt;I had a extremely entertaining weekend. Before I get into it however I feel it necessary to explain that I have an appreciation for some of the seemingly random things in life. Some random things and some funny things occured this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Late Saturday afternoon Brett and I packed up his truck and headed into Portage to see Terrin and her band that was playing there. They were very good!&lt;br /&gt;Funny occurance #1- How Terrin introduces me to her bandmates. "This is Becca, she is scary". Ah, I always feel so appreciated!&lt;br /&gt;After their practice Saturday night we hung at Gail's and had an amazing supper and  played games.&lt;br /&gt;Random thought #1- Why would 6 people opt to play a game that none of them have ever played before, and don't really know how to play in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;The next morning the band played and were very good from what I heard, and then the new president of CPC spoke.&lt;br /&gt;Random Thought #2- If a speaker is going to open up the service with how much he misses the kids in the band while he's gone, he may want to learn their names...&lt;br /&gt;After church I managed to eat my entire luch with chopsticks! I slopped some due to the Daley clumsy gene, but I think I did pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;Funny Occurance #2- A Chinese Cafe called Dick's Cafe! that just seems odd somehow...&lt;br /&gt;After lunch Becca and Brett's Winnipeg Adventure began...&lt;br /&gt;Funny Occurance #3- We got lost on our way to Portage Place, I am so useless in that city!&lt;br /&gt;Random Occurance #3- We randomly ran into Brodie and Karyn at Portage Place (after we eventually found it).&lt;br /&gt;At Calvary Temple we watched the band again, and Terrin got embarrassed by the pastor being in awe of her drumming skills. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;Final Funny Occurance... After Brett dropped me off his truck not only ran out of gas a block from my house, but he also locked his keys in it! So we were cruising in my heap of a car in search of keys and gas at one in the morning!&lt;br /&gt;A perfect ending to a very fun weekend! I hope you all had as much fun on your weekend as I did (but I doubt it, teehee)&lt;br /&gt;'Til next time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-110962367510396641?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/110962367510396641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=110962367510396641' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110962367510396641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110962367510396641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/02/hey-guys-kick-me-phat-beat.html' title='Hey Guys, Kick Me a Phat Beat.'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-110945096491413705</id><published>2005-02-26T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T12:49:24.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No You Shutup Please!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This post is for anyone who has ever worked in the customer service biz.  And for those of you reading this who have never worked in some sort of customer service maybe you should take some notes so you know what NOT to do next time you walk into a store.  I've been working in the service industry in one form or another for almost 4 years.  In those 4 years I have learned one very important thing... people, in general, are stupid creatures!  It's true! (now if some of you take offence to this, it's probably because you are one of those idiotic people I complain about, so instead of being insulted, pull your head out of your rear end and continue reading!!!)  For the most part when people need assisstance with something at work I am more than willing to help, I mean that is what I'm there for, however, if you insist on calling me over to help you with a whistle, snap, or calling me "girl", you will be lucky if I don't pull out my utility knife and cut you! I am not a dog, I don't respond to whistles or snaps, and my name is not "girl", it's Rebecca, and it is clearly printed on the name tag that I detest wearing. &lt;br /&gt;Now I also understand that it is hard to find a babysitter every time you go shopping, I really do, but if you insist on bringing your children out into public keep them under control! Don't let them run around screaming, if they have to go to the bathroom, find them a bathroom so they don't urinate on the floor (oh, it's happened).  The best however is when the kids are behind your counter messing  around with your til and scanner and the incompetent mother is standing right there watching, yet doing nothing. Oh wait it get's better, and when you try to stop the child, she yells at you!!!!! Now if this happens you will be lucky if I don't throw you and your hellion child into the dumpster behind the store. (also known as the customer complaint office)&lt;br /&gt;And finally (my personal favourite) if it is 3 or 4 minutes before a store is about to close, don't come into a clothing store and start trying things on, and don't come into a video store and ask for a new membership.  The people that work at these places, DO HAVE LIVES outside the store!!! Just because you only see them at work doesn't mean they live there and love being there 24-7. Do you sleep on your desk at work? No? I didn't think so.  We are people too, and we probably have plans to go out with friends or sleep or study after work, so don't keep us at work longer than we have to be.&lt;br /&gt;Now if you realize that you are one of these ridiculously stupid people, I beg you, change your ways before you end up in a dark back alley with utility knife cuts and smelling like garbage.&lt;br /&gt;Well, til next time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-110945096491413705?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/110945096491413705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=110945096491413705' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110945096491413705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110945096491413705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/02/no-you-shutup-please.html' title='No You Shutup Please!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-110927732464272403</id><published>2005-02-24T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T21:17:55.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/176/3770/320/Me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/176/3770/200/Me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is an old pic of me, hope to find an updated one soon. This was taken at Terrin's old apartment, the one practically next door to Brett, back when they would flirt shamelessly and never admit that they liked each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-110927732464272403?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/110927732464272403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=110927732464272403' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110927732464272403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110927732464272403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/02/this-is-old-pic-of-me-hope-to-find.html' title=''/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11059280.post-110927636060993771</id><published>2005-02-24T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T21:19:40.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tree, The Whole Tree, and Nothing But The Tree...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;of evil that is. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That's what my friends call me anyways. You see it started as a quote from my friend Kevin McAuley. For some reason (unbeknownst to me of course) he stated "Money used to be the root of all evil, now it's Becca". Who would've thought that it would stick? I sure didn't. Not only did it stick, but less than a year later it was upgraded... to the entire tree of evil. Apparently just being the root wasn't good enough, now I was the tree. And man did that ever stick! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So this being my first post I think it is necessary for anyone who intends to read my somewhat biased and opinionated thoughts that I post in the future, to understand my infamous reputation. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So much like Terrin, Brett, and Brodie I intend to use this site to publish my various rants, mostly I am doing this because my dear friend Terrin won't let it go, it's not like she'll read something here that she doesn't already know. She once called me extremely wise, I think she is full of it... But you can decide that for yourselves. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Til next time kids...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11059280-110927636060993771?l=becca13blog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/feeds/110927636060993771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11059280&amp;postID=110927636060993771' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110927636060993771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11059280/posts/default/110927636060993771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://becca13blog.blogspot.com/2005/02/tree-whole-tree-and-nothing-but-tree.html' title='The Tree, The Whole Tree, and Nothing But The Tree...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07543307656977788163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://img163.echo.cx/img163/3863/funpic6cd.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
