<?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-23706651</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:56:10.576-05:00</updated><category term='Family Guy'/><category term='Honesty'/><category term='secrets'/><category term='2010 Resolutions'/><category term='bugs'/><category term='Roe V. Wade'/><category term='Drama Free'/><category term='Top 10'/><category term='Heroes'/><category term='Evolution of Dance'/><category term='bellhop'/><category term='Inspiration'/><category term='The Way I See It'/><category term='post secret'/><category term='Spirit Air Flight 710'/><category term='life'/><category term='Mornings'/><category term='airport'/><category term='Circle Of Life'/><category term='Charlie Candy Mountain'/><category term='Chelsea Handler And Chuy'/><category term='jewgle'/><category term='Dr. Seuss Quotes'/><category term='Lesson of the day'/><category term='Stephen Colbert'/><category term='quotes'/><category term='hangover'/><category term='pineapple express'/><category term='Obnoxious People'/><title type='text'>Life's Little Rants</title><subtitle type='html'>blah, blah, blah...blah, blah, blah, blah..blah, blah</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>73</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2996412332660881460</id><published>2010-11-10T23:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T23:22:22.129-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inspiration'/><title type='text'>What Inspires Me...</title><content type='html'>So today I was home because my insides decided to wage war on me and set fire to my plan of extreme productivity..sigh.  I was looking for something when I came across my folder of pictures that inspire me, things that I have just pulled from magazines.  It's an interesting way to look at yourself, and a good way to see if you have always stayed true to you.  When I get a moment I will scan some of the pics that inspire me so you can see too.  In the meantime, check out this blog:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://whatinthesamhillnow.blogspot.com"&gt;http://whatinthesamhillnow.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is from my friend/camper/coworker Sam who was diagnosed with Colon Cancer at the age of 23 earlier this year.  Thanks to an early diagnosis and what seems to me the best support system ever designed, Sam is taking life by storm and blogging her thoughts and photos.  Check it out when you can, seriously...she inspires me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2996412332660881460?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2996412332660881460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2996412332660881460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2996412332660881460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2996412332660881460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-inspires-me.html' title='What Inspires Me...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-7556821887418215936</id><published>2010-02-21T11:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T12:02:55.390-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I can see clearly now the rain is gone</title><content type='html'>This week has really helped bring about even more clarification to my life.  I'm an open book so I am not embarrassed to say that I had a bit of a meltdown at work this week.  I never cry about work, because I always feel like there is so much more that deserves my tears and I am not a huge crier (not counting commericals, tv and movies, those things always get me!!)  This week though, work got to me, and my usually calm, cool and collected self got very overwhelmed and frustrated and even though it was all a bit emotional it was so clarifying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-7556821887418215936?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7556821887418215936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=7556821887418215936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7556821887418215936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7556821887418215936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-can-see-clearly-now-rain-is-gone.html' title='I can see clearly now the rain is gone'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8416009673063116285</id><published>2010-01-17T17:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T18:03:54.376-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2010 Resolutions'/><title type='text'>2010</title><content type='html'>It's a new decade, WOOT!! How can this not bring about the desire for something new, and different.  I'm looking for a little life shake-up and in the spirit have made some very attainable resolutions for 2010. I wanted to write them down somewhere so I can track my progress for the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2010 I Resolve To:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Make 2010 a great year.  Instead of hoping for a year I am grabbing 2010 by the balls and making it a great year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Take more advantage of NYC and everything this city has to offer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Go to brunch more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Be more active&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am well on my way with all of these things and am already loving 2010.  Here's to having a firm grip on this decade and taking control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace, Love &amp; 2010&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8416009673063116285?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8416009673063116285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8416009673063116285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8416009673063116285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8416009673063116285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010.html' title='2010'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6136124678832772697</id><published>2009-09-03T20:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T20:50:09.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Understand, Really I Do</title><content type='html'>Why is that when someone is telling you a story and you say, "I understand" they don't actually think you mean it?  It is quite possibly one of the most frustrating things in the world.  Same thing when someone says, "You have no idea," "You don't even know" or "You can't even imagine."  Really?? Are you certain that I have no idea, or that I wouldn't know?  Are you doubting the depths of my imagination? Try me, because most of the time, I do understand, I do know, I have an idea and I could most definitely imagine it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people are so convinced that everything bad happens to them and only to them.  They want the sympathy but are uninterested in your empathy.  Why do people invite that drama into their life?  It comforts me to know that other people have been where I am, that some footsteps were already created.  Trust me, you are not the only one that this happened to and you won't be the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always remember that it's not about what happens to you, but rather how you react to what happens to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6136124678832772697?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6136124678832772697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6136124678832772697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6136124678832772697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6136124678832772697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-understand-really-i-do.html' title='I Understand, Really I Do'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-1024523084310471697</id><published>2009-04-25T09:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T10:15:01.199-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drama Free'/><title type='text'>Drama Free</title><content type='html'>My roommate, who I love dearly, is a bit of a drama queen.  This is not me talking behind her back, she knows it as we have spoken about it many times.  Everything that happens to her is the biggest deal in the world and she always tell the story so it has that tone of our parents and grandparents stories when they tell us they walked miles to school, in the snow, with no shoes.  I usually entertain her drama filled moment for about 1-3 minutes.  Last night though, I was not in the mood.  She had apparently dropped her cell phone into the toilet and thought she was the only person in the world that this has ever happened to.  I calmly told her that she could put her phone in rice and I have heard several times that has been successful in saving people's waterlogged phones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time something like this happens and someone reacts like the world is collapsing on them, my response is always, "Worse things have happened."  How is it that I am one of very few people that realizes that?  I have been plagued with several sicknesses, some chronic, and am infamous for having bad luck.  I&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; almost&lt;/span&gt; never complain and I just don't get how other people can't see past their problems to bigger picture.  In the grand scheme of life, you are just one being, so you have to imagine that there are others out there with similar experiences, and then others who have it waaaay worse.  We live in NYC, don't you think that after passing 6 bums on your way home that you might think your life is a little bit better.  Let me put it this way:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your day: I dropped my cell phone in a toilet while I was out to dinner at a nice restaurant with my friends after work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bums bad day: Sat on the street somewhere hoping that someone would take mercy on me and give me some food, or some money to get food, maybe even something to keep me warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just wish that people would realize how fortunate they are, even if you are not a millionaire living the high life.  The fact that you have a job, a place to live, money to eat and clothe yourself, a roof over you head, that anything else that happens is like an added bonus.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you dropped your cell phone in the water, it's replaceable.  Life will go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prefer to be drama free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-1024523084310471697?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/1024523084310471697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=1024523084310471697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1024523084310471697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1024523084310471697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2009/04/drama-free.html' title='Drama Free'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6208840414723406933</id><published>2009-04-18T10:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T10:27:30.000-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mornings'/><title type='text'>Top Of The  Morning To You...</title><content type='html'>I am not a morning person.  People who know me well, know that, but for some reason they choose to ignore it. I need at least an hour before I have any interest in talking to anyone in the morning.  This is often mistaken for rudeness, EVEN if people know I am not a morning person.  So why do people just ignore the obvious?  If you already know something is fact, why not take it at face value?  Why do you have to so completely overlook it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6208840414723406933?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6208840414723406933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6208840414723406933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6208840414723406933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6208840414723406933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2009/04/top-of-morning-to-you.html' title='Top Of The  Morning To You...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-7318382184032093557</id><published>2009-01-18T11:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T12:18:09.567-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Way I See It'/><title type='text'>The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same..Or Do they?</title><content type='html'>Do you ever sit back and silently evaluate your life and your friendships and the relationships that surround you?  I do, all the time, I am constantly taking it all in.  I can safely say that I observe more than any one person I know.  This has to do with my fascination with people and the way we each respond to certain things and our varying differences.  I am constantly aware, for better or worse, of how the way I act affects other people.  I don't think, actually I know for a fact, that other people are not as aware of this as I am.  Sometimes it is a blessing in disguise, other times it is a pain in the ass.  Why is that I am so conscious of other people's emotions that sometimes it affects the way I am.  I mean, I truly have sympathy for people when they are in pain, when they are happy, sad, scared, nervous, excited, anxious etc.  I am not sure that anyone is that intuitive about my emotions, and the way that I will react.  Often times, people have me pegged as the wrong person.  I have a "friend" who didn't want to tell me something she was going through because she thought I would be disappointed in her situation.  In all actuality, my first instinct is to sympathize with someone, to feel how they are feeling, and to feel for them and for what they are going through.  Judging people is never one of my instincts.  I guess this rant is more about my disappointment in her understanding of me and my capabilities as her friend.  It hurts to know that someone who calls you their friend, doesn't trust you enough to let you help them go through this.  And, not even that, doesn't trust that you are able to help them through that.  It's the lack of confidence that kills, but then what kills even more is finding out that someone you really thought had that confidence and trust in you is defending the other party.  I'm sorry, but I can tell you from personal experience and hardship that putting trust and confidence in your friends is the best way to find out who your true friends are.  You shouldn't shut people out without even giving them the opportunity to prove you wrong.  That is just how I feel about all of this, and is this is like my diary, I am writing it here, for everyone (or no one) to read!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-7318382184032093557?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7318382184032093557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=7318382184032093557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7318382184032093557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7318382184032093557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2009/01/more-things-change-more-they-stay.html' title='The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same..Or Do they?'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-1303588267351312395</id><published>2008-11-22T10:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T10:44:52.212-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Honesty'/><title type='text'>Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm......</title><content type='html'>Do the daily occurrences of your life ever just make you wonder?  My mind is constantly a glow with wonder.  I don't usually take to the What if questions, more to the Why's?  I feel like life is one big barrel of why's?  I question so many things, sometimes out of pure interest and sometimes out of pure disgust.  I think my intrigue into the why's of the world has to do with my fascination in psychology and people and human interaction.  I have gotten to a point in my life where I am not embarrassed or scared or whatever to say how I feel or what I need and this always makes me wonder why everyone is not there?  Why can't we all just say how we feel, what we want, what we need?  Why is honesty not the most common practiced virtue?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you think that if everyone was just honest and upfront about what they want that we might all be a little happier, and just a few words away from getting what we really want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few things that make me go hmmmmm....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-1303588267351312395?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/1303588267351312395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=1303588267351312395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1303588267351312395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1303588267351312395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/11/things-that-make-you-go-hmmmmm.html' title='Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm......'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2360086785414385111</id><published>2008-11-09T19:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T19:41:58.977-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me vs. You vs. Who?</title><content type='html'>I have started to notice something that seems to have become a bit of a pattern.  I say something about my life or something that happened to me or something I am feeling at the moment and someone else says "well what about me? i did blah, blah, blah.." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about you but when someone tells me something I don't automatically think, "how do you think I felt?"  I automatically think, how did that make that person feel, is there anything I can do to help or make it better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure why so many people, even selfless people, sometimes just want to jump to thinking about themselves in situations.  Why is it that people feel the need for the comparison?  Does it somehow make them feel more human? More Alive?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just don't understand because when someone starts to talk about something that happened to them, I actually just listen and let them talk it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2360086785414385111?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2360086785414385111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2360086785414385111' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2360086785414385111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2360086785414385111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/11/me-vs-you-vs-who.html' title='Me vs. You vs. Who?'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8613640798054901228</id><published>2008-09-04T21:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T22:26:36.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And You Call Me Your Friend....?</title><content type='html'>When you hear the term "friend" what does that mean to you?  To me, that means through thick and thin, through good and bad, without judgement, open arms, open heart, shoulder to lean on, FOREVER.  It means love, it means I love you no matter what, I love you BECAUSE of you, not inspite of,  it means FRIENDS first.  I always put my friends before myself, or someone else's needs instead of mine.  I am one of the most selfless people I know, and that is a bold statement.  I don't mean to say it as a cocky thing, I mean to say it as a "what the fuck?" thing.  How is it that someone who cares sooo much about other people, who is ALWAYS there for other people in whatever way possible, is constantly getting shit on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It truly is amazing that I am still standing on two feet and still as happy as I am.  It definitely took me a loong time to grow into my skin.  To develop to be the strong, synical, comical, genuine (meh I was always genuine), independent, intelligent woman that I am.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have consistently put my friendships ahead of my work and ahead of me in many cases.  Apparently when the reverse came to be, the same was not true of my friends.  Apparently their work was more important than their friendships, their love, the fundamental basis for being.  It's happen with more than one of my friends (maybe I should be air quoting that, the term friend might be a little iffy.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I often say I am shocked and amazed about something, which is what I thought for a split second here, but then was overcome with anger.  It takes a lot to get me angry, to make me shed tears, to make my heart palpitate like it is about to jump out of my chest and run a marathon. This happened recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's my rant since i can't make any more sense of it...sigh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8613640798054901228?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8613640798054901228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8613640798054901228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8613640798054901228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8613640798054901228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-you-call-me-your-friend.html' title='And You Call Me Your Friend....?'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-395362962694661516</id><published>2008-06-19T11:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T11:55:45.069-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obnoxious People'/><title type='text'>Obnoxious People I Deal With...</title><content type='html'>Why is that most people are just soo selfish.  First, I moved out of a great apartment with a great roommate, now I moved into a familiar situation with a great friend in an equally great apartment.  Our friend that moved out did 2 super obnoxious things. &lt;br /&gt;1) She cut the cable wire, WHO THE FUCK IN THEIR RIGHT MIND DOES THAT?!?!&lt;br /&gt;2) She made a big stink about needing a check, even though I told her it was coming and she had already known when it was coming.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently that wasn't enough, so she decided to repeatedly say she hates dealing with friends and money, i'm sorry, but DON'T call me your "friend" and then treat me the way you have. That is so not ok, and it is such bull-shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next,&lt;br /&gt;When I moved out of my apartment before the last one, as a FAVOR, out of the goodness of my heart, I left my router for my roommate so that she wouldn't be without internet.  I didn't need to do that,  but I thought it was really nice of me.  I assumed that when she moved, she would let me know and I could get my router back.  Well she didn't, and I had mentioned that I needed it. Finally, when I moved again and actually needed to router I asked her for it and she said that she was too busy for the next several weeks and couldn't get it to me.  I originally offered to go to her place, or her work, then offered to send stuff to mail it back to me.  All to no avail, finally, when I told her I couldn't wait and she couldn't just drop it in a post office box (their rules, not mine) she told me it wasn't her problem.  WTF, it is your problem.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the hell are people soo selfish.  I just do not get it.  HOW, HOW, HOW.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I feel like ranting about, but trust me, after I hike up to the upper east side to get my router, I will be back in full swing, cause MAN do I have a lot to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold tight..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-395362962694661516?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/395362962694661516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=395362962694661516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/395362962694661516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/395362962694661516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/06/obnoxious-people-i-deal-with.html' title='Obnoxious People I Deal With...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-4184124536199399326</id><published>2008-05-03T22:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T22:59:22.770-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cha Cha Slide Mickey D's Style :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0eN9KP6lOZs&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0eN9KP6lOZs&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-4184124536199399326?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/4184124536199399326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=4184124536199399326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4184124536199399326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4184124536199399326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/05/cha-cha-slide-mickey-ds-style.html' title='Cha Cha Slide Mickey D&apos;s Style :)'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2423340540050527260</id><published>2008-04-28T23:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T00:21:43.648-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Oh life..</title><content type='html'>So I'm 27 now, have been for almost a month now and I feel like I am at a place in my life where I really know who I am and am proud of it.  I think it takes a everyone different experiences in their life and different moments to really get to that point where they say, "this is who I am and I am damn proud of where I've been and what I've become."  I can tell you that the path that lead me here (and I actually got here a while ago but am just now taking the time to reflect on this) was full of every emotion under the sun.  I went from being that the eternally happy child to a cynical adult full of sarcasm, compassion, love and eternal optimism ever-still.  I long for the great experiences that got me here, tuck away the painful heart-ache and trauma that built me up stronger, and try to live every day to the fullest.  I have a group of friends, who probably don't know it, but who have allowed me to really be me.  I think it is soo important to have that, to be able to say that your friends know you are, inside and out, and love every inch of your being.  I have always said that my friends are my anchors, they keep me afloat.   More than ever, I think it is so important to be able to say "this is who I am; love it or leave it." Our world is soo different from what it was centuries ago, decades ago, years ago, days ago, hours ago.  We are ever-evolving and for that purpose I am a go-with-the-flow kind of person. Sooo much has happened in my life where it is sooo important, soo powerful right then and there. That power fades and slowly but surely something else grabs a hold of your emotions.  I prefer not to waste my time thinking about what might of been, I like to think about what's happening now and what will be&lt;br /&gt;.... and on that note I'm done talking...peace, love &amp; happiness&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2423340540050527260?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2423340540050527260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2423340540050527260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2423340540050527260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2423340540050527260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/04/oh-life.html' title='Oh life..'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-402524995114644996</id><published>2008-04-02T23:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T23:24:02.864-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nerves, Nerves, Nerves</title><content type='html'>Have you ever felt your heart just stop and start again?  I have, it is a crazy feeling when you catch it, and it is even crazier to think about because it makes you feel a little bit like your nuts.  So many things in the past few months have made me feel a little but like I'm nuts.  Fortunately, I have had time to reflect on the things that have made feel a little nuts.  A lot of times, I don't think people really take the time to think about and reflect on what is happening in their lives, around them, to the people around them etc.  I think it is important to think about and read in to those happenings to help you understand yourself and your life a bit better.  I think too often people are in a rush to go nowhere, and no one takes the time to really get things.  I like to think that I really get things, and because of that, I see the world in a whoooole different light.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-402524995114644996?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/402524995114644996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=402524995114644996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/402524995114644996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/402524995114644996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/04/nerves-nerves-nerves.html' title='Nerves, Nerves, Nerves'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-5857683381296601334</id><published>2008-03-03T22:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T22:36:52.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Absolutely Amazing</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sIQrBouWRiE"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sIQrBouWRiE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-5857683381296601334?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/5857683381296601334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=5857683381296601334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5857683381296601334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5857683381296601334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/03/absolutely-amazing.html' title='Absolutely Amazing'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-782170717107502016</id><published>2008-02-26T23:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T23:59:29.128-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chelsea Handler And Chuy'/><title type='text'>Chelsea &amp; Chuy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;How can you not love them?!!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SqCiMhXuWy8&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SqCiMhXuWy8&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-782170717107502016?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/782170717107502016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=782170717107502016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/782170717107502016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/782170717107502016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/02/chelsea-chuy.html' title='Chelsea &amp; Chuy'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-4473536728484166094</id><published>2008-02-26T23:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T23:44:20.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Doubt My Truth, That Hurts</title><content type='html'>I am paralyzed by the doubt I hear in the voices of people I call friends, people that  I would expect to have engaged in a feeling of care and concern after what I told them, people that doubt my truth.  As it turns out, THE TRUTH for you all on the dubious side, I was drugged on Friday night at a bar.  Trust me, this was not my first reaction to the events that happened after a night of light drinking for me.  We went to the bar around 6:30pm and I was there until about 10pm.  In that time period I consumed 2 drinks and one shot, pretty spaced out.  I already felt pretty drunk after my first drink, but didn't think much of it. Later in the night I started to feel really weird, I thought it was just that I was too drunk and should go home, but I know that I felt a different drunk, not the drunk you normally feel, I felt strange and weird.  I walked the one block back to my apartment, talked to my roommate for a minute and then literally passed out.  I woke up to a pool of vomit in my bed, because I had apparently thrown up in my sleep.  I spent most of my Saturday morning, from about 6 am to 10 am in the bathroom trying to regain my sense of being a living creature.  It took me much of the day to recover from this physically.  Mentally and emotionally I have not yet recovered.  After talks with friends, and the pieces of my Friday night somewhat put back together, it became evident that I experienced all the classic symptoms of being drugged.  I don't remember a chunk of my night, my senses were completely out of whack and the fact that I threw up in my sleep further solidified what I hoped was not true, but indeed that I was drugged.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now imagine how scary that is, and then imagine telling your friends about this and MOST of them express serious concern and it makes you feel a sense of security to know that you have these people that are genuinely concerned.  Then you have the people that seem to think that this is just an indication that you are a lightweight, or that  this is just too crazy to be true.  I want to know how someone who knows you, knows you don't lie, in fact, can't tell a lie to save your life, could even possibly doubt that this is true.  I just want to put this out there in the universe that I am completely offended as an honest human being and as these people's friends that could doubt my truth, that instead of concern I get belittling comments and snide remarks.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, BECAUSE I DON'T LIE, that hurts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-4473536728484166094?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/4473536728484166094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=4473536728484166094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4473536728484166094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4473536728484166094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-doubt-my-truth-that-hurts.html' title='You Doubt My Truth, That Hurts'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-150609097016581715</id><published>2008-02-10T13:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T14:25:23.151-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Honesty'/><title type='text'>Honesty...</title><content type='html'>Honesty is kind of  hard word to define, and probably one that most people define differently.  The first word in relation to honesty is that it is a quality.  A quality is a charcterisitic or a trait.  One of the things that makes us all intrinsically human is that we all have the capability to do what is right, to act responsibly, truthfully and honestly.  The problem in human life lies where the responsibilty, the truth and the honesty should be directed.  Some people do it all for their families, some people do it for themselves, some do it for their countries and some people do it for their jobs.  Everyone's sense of responsibilty,truth and honesty is different, we all meausre it differently which makes it hard to define.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I think should be universal is that we should all be honest with eachother and with ourselves.  Everyone who knows me knows that I am an honest person, pretty blunt, a tell it like it is kind of person.  I do this because I don't think there is any need to sugar coat things or play games.  I think you should be able to say to someone I feel this way, or I think this, and this is why and go from there.  For example...I think that life is waaaay to short to sweat the small stuff, and that people always think they can do it tomorrow, or a week from now, whatever, and people take for granted that tomorrow, a week from now, whatever, will be here.  We do not know for sure that it will be.  I also think that people make it really hard for everyone else to be honest, because people read too much into things, or just take from it what they want to create their own truths.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is officially one of my little rants, because I think people rely too much on other people's truth and it makes us all incapable of being who we really want to be, or who we really should or could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-150609097016581715?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/150609097016581715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=150609097016581715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/150609097016581715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/150609097016581715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/02/honesty.html' title='Honesty...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-257678849363838300</id><published>2008-02-06T19:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T19:35:02.331-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ousted</title><content type='html'>Hmm, do you ever feel like you have been ousted off of an Island that you had a hand in building?!? That's how I currently feel.  It's funny too, because I ALWAYS said I wanted a private island and have been very careful in handing out invitations.  To this day I think I have officially invited less than 5 people to my island.  That being said, I am usually a pretty good judge of character. I have probably incorrectly judged someone's character in about 3% of people I have met.  Those are pretty good odds.  &lt;br /&gt;It's funny though how if you "invite" someone somewhere, they then turn-around  and the close the door on you.  Funny.&lt;br /&gt;But guess what, Karma's a bitch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-257678849363838300?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/257678849363838300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=257678849363838300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/257678849363838300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/257678849363838300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/02/ousted.html' title='Ousted'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-388399795557390373</id><published>2008-01-22T20:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T21:35:50.014-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Roe V. Wade'/><title type='text'>Roe V. Wade Anniversary</title><content type='html'>So today is the 35th anniversary of Roe V. Wade, the historical decision of the Supreme Court to legalize abortion.  I find myself feeling like I have to talk about this topic.  For a large portion of my life I found myself 200% pro-life, always thinking that people that have abortions are all irresponsible sex-craving kids who were too young to be having sex and deal with the consequences.  Without question, I was not only ignorant and judgemental in this, I was wrong.  While there are some people that use Abortion as a form of birth control, there are just as many people that find themselves in a really hard place when they see that test turn positive.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     When this matter hit close to home, I had no choice but to re-position my thoughts on this matter.  While I do think that every child has a right to life, I also think that every woman has the right to decide what is best for her, for her body, for her future and for the future of that child.  There is no reason that ANYONE should ever be able to tell you that you have to have a child.  This is on EVERY level a personal, individual, person-by-person situation that can't and shouldn't be mandated by any governing body of law.  I think that until you are in, or you know someone in, this situation  you can't pass judgement on it.  Feel free to think whatever you want, but it is completely unfair for you to protest this so adamantly. Because until you are that person that has to live with the guilt of your decision every single day, until you are that person that has to agonize over making that decision, until you are that person that thinks about this every time you even think about having sex, or every time you have sex, until you live 1 single day in the mind of someone that has had to have an abortion and you understand what happens to their psyche after a decision and a process like this, there is a chance that you may not be able to even begin to tell them how much you protest this, how against this you are, because you will realize it is much more than what you are protesting, it is much more than your convictions and your feelings, it is so much more than politics, it is people and it is personal.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Maybe these pro-life protesters should take the time to sit down with someone that has had to go through this and see what this person is like.  Learn that this person is not the devil that you paint them out to be, realize, that maybe they have a lot of the same thoughts as you.  All I'm saying is until it hits home for you, maybe you shouldn't judge, maybe your efforts should be concentrated on issues that really need to be fought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-388399795557390373?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/388399795557390373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=388399795557390373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/388399795557390373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/388399795557390373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/01/roe-v-wade-anniversary.html' title='Roe V. Wade Anniversary'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8467396521116491100</id><published>2008-01-22T20:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T20:30:19.217-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Way I See It'/><title type='text'>The Way I See It #280</title><content type='html'>"You can learn a lot more from listening than you can from talking. Find someone with whom you don’t agree in the slightest and ask them to explain themselves at length. Then take a seat, shut your mouth, and don’t argue back. It’s physically impossible to listen with your mouth open."&lt;br /&gt;-- John Moe&lt;br /&gt;Radio host and author of Conservatize Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE this quote, I think that everyone should try this once in a while!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8467396521116491100?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8467396521116491100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8467396521116491100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8467396521116491100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8467396521116491100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/01/way-i-see-it-280.html' title='The Way I See It #280'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-5154924812840416225</id><published>2008-01-01T22:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T22:48:04.519-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 10'/><title type='text'>2008 is bound to be GREAAATT!!!</title><content type='html'>I actually, for once in my life, feel like things are starting to fall right into place.  I started off the new year doing EXACTLY what I wanted to do, and I made the bold decision to stop chasing things and let them chase me.  I have a feeling that 2008 is really going to be great!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Top 10 Reasons for a Great '08&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  HELLOO Elections!! There is real potential for either a Woman or a Black Man to be elected to office, AND I can't friggin' wait.  2008 my friends, let's get with it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  Work, It's a definite plus when you go back to some place at the beginning of the year without hesitation, and with a clear head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  My morale budget at Morpheus.  Keeping up Morale isn't everyone's forte, but it is my passion :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. A potential February visit, with a real possibility!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  My team at work, we got a restructure, but I could not be happier about the people on my team!! TEAM PINEAPPLE EXPRESS SMELLLLSS GOOD :) :) (On that note, the movie is also coming out this year!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The (RED) Campaign, they only have the potential to get better, more partners, more products, more relief for people with HIV and AIDS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Rori's Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Andy &amp; Brendan's Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I'm FINALLY getting a brother that I LOOOOOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Friends And Family... Can't live with 'em, SURE AS HELLL can't live without them!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-5154924812840416225?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/5154924812840416225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=5154924812840416225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5154924812840416225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5154924812840416225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008-is-bound-to-be-greaaatt.html' title='2008 is bound to be GREAAATT!!!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2729163559913722113</id><published>2007-12-27T14:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T14:58:04.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ambiguity...</title><content type='html'>I really hate ambiguity, but I think a lot of times it is something people create all on their own.  The best way to avoid it, is just to talk about shit.  If you want to know something ask it.  If you want to make an awkward situation less awkward, talk about it..  Life is too short for us to sit and wonder why.  That is why I often say to people, I don't play by the rules.  Who the fuck needs rules?  Everybody is different, we all react different ways to the same situations.  People say don't do this, you should do this...I say, DO WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2729163559913722113?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2729163559913722113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2729163559913722113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2729163559913722113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2729163559913722113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/12/ambiguity.html' title='Ambiguity...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8301917133803915897</id><published>2007-12-24T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T00:20:53.893-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dr. Seuss Quotes'/><title type='text'>Say What You Feel...</title><content type='html'>I'm a firm believer in saying what you feel and what you believe.  You really do have nothing to lose and you will live your life regretting that you never said anything.  That's no way to LIVE.  &lt;br /&gt;So on that note:&lt;br /&gt;here is a quote from my most favorite author:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be who you are &lt;br /&gt;and say what you feel &lt;br /&gt;because those who mind don't matter, &lt;br /&gt;and those that matter, don't mind"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DR.SEUSS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8301917133803915897?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8301917133803915897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8301917133803915897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8301917133803915897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8301917133803915897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/12/say-what-you-feel.html' title='Say What You Feel...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-88001196792778078</id><published>2007-12-23T22:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T22:24:44.627-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jewgle'/><title type='text'>Jewgle=Amazing</title><content type='html'>Google for the jew in you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thefriedmans.net/jewgle/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.thefriedmans.net/jewgle/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-88001196792778078?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/88001196792778078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=88001196792778078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/88001196792778078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/88001196792778078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/12/jewgleamazing.html' title='Jewgle=Amazing'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6511376723669497710</id><published>2007-12-19T12:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T12:15:57.332-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pineapple express'/><title type='text'>PINEAPPLE EXPRESS</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jb4xsz0aNBk&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jb4xsz0aNBk&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6511376723669497710?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6511376723669497710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6511376723669497710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6511376723669497710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6511376723669497710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/12/pineapple-express.html' title='PINEAPPLE EXPRESS'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8304009642188566822</id><published>2007-12-13T20:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T20:28:46.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously...</title><content type='html'>People just suck, I think that is my official human decision.  And maybe it is not that people suck, maybe it is just that some people can't see beyond the bubble they've created around themselves to acknowledge the fact that the world doesn't revolved around them.  Don't get me wrong, ALL people don't suck, but there is a percentage of society out there that truly does suck.  There are just simple courtesy's that one should be able to expect in a life time, that because other people are ignorant to it, can't.  &lt;br /&gt;Really, just once, it would be nice if people realized how their actions effect others.&lt;br /&gt;That's all&lt;br /&gt;I'm out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8304009642188566822?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8304009642188566822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8304009642188566822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8304009642188566822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8304009642188566822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/12/seriously.html' title='Seriously...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6513203299217018808</id><published>2007-12-04T12:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T12:46:51.075-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Where The Streets Have No Name...."</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My friend sent this to me and it made think about all the possibilities that are out there.  This is soo cool that this person is having all these amazing experiences! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENJOY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What can I say? This is truly yet another experience of a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I have canoed on the Orange River, which divides South Africa and Namibia, and seen the rare Goliath Heron take flight immediately in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;I have driven stick shift on the wrong side of the road with my friend Hillary GAGGING with laugther.&lt;br /&gt;I have camped under a 500-year-old acacia tree ridden with all manner of songbirds.&lt;br /&gt;I have slept in a hammock under a canopy of stars (all completely visible since there is minimal light reflection out in the desert). You haven't stargazed until you've done so from a desert.&lt;br /&gt;I have endured crazy, windy sandstorms blowing straight through our campsite, depositing POUNDS of sand everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;I have bonded with my very fun group of Aussies, Kiwis, and Brits. To the point of ALL 10 of us SKYDIVING above the Namib desert...absolutely stunning and incredible experience.&lt;br /&gt;I have swum in the frigid-but-turquoise beaches of beautifully set Cape Town.&lt;br /&gt;I have climbed Dune 45 in Sossusvlei at 5 in the morning to watch the sun rise over the red sands.&lt;br /&gt;I have been airborne whilst quad-biking on the vast expanse of dunes near Swakopmund.&lt;br /&gt;I have wandered just about every kind of desert available, and recognising how precious water resources are in this world.&lt;br /&gt;I have woken up next to jackals, baboons, and oryx, ravaging through our trash for food.&lt;br /&gt;I have sat atop our truck with a cold beer in hand, while watching the sun set over Fish River Canyon, 3rd largest in the world.&lt;br /&gt;I have learned that oysters are best eaten with a dash of salt and pepper, a squeeze of lemon, 3 drops of tabasco, and a splash of tequila before pouring it down ones throat.&lt;br /&gt;I have danced the night away at discos playing nothing but Africa dance music to very enthusiastic crowds.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And the best part? This is only half-way over! In an hour we head off to go bush camping in a very spiritual place...Spitzkoppe. After that we head to the various game parks and reserves and experience true wildlife (I am EXCITED about gazing at majestic elephant herds!). Then Bots and Zim (the overlander terms for Botswana and Zimbabwe).&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Before we reach Bots, though, we will camp near a school/orphanage, where we will interact with the local children properly, and provide them with a little love and happiness, perhaps a soccer game (I will let them win, of course!). I'm very much looking forward to that.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I feel very connected to this continent right now. And to myself. And life in general. Imagine listening to U2's Joshua Tree while hanging out the window of a large truck, feeling absolutely content, fulfilled, and appreciative of all things that have happened thus far in life...that's me right now. If only I could share this with all the ones I love, like, and honour. Hopefully one day I will get to. For now, however, this is mine, and I will enjoy it for what it is and what it is doing to my spirit.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To all those having bad weeks: hang in there. They won't last. There are too many no-named streets waiting to be explored, experienced, absorbed, to focus on the little things.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To all those having great weeks: I am with you in spirit, and hope to join you in person very soon.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Internet is a rarity in these parts, so next you hear from me is probably when I get back. I'm also sending this to random peeps, so feel free to forward to anyone at all interested."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6513203299217018808?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6513203299217018808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6513203299217018808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6513203299217018808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6513203299217018808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/12/where-streets-have-no-name.html' title='&quot;Where The Streets Have No Name....&quot;'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-1363352038694653302</id><published>2007-11-14T16:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T16:29:37.453-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Circle Of Life'/><title type='text'>Circle of Life</title><content type='html'>Becca's Circle of Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;....sponsored by J. Driver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you talk, i listen, he learns, good plan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT IS THE CIRCLE OF LIFE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-1363352038694653302?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/1363352038694653302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=1363352038694653302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1363352038694653302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1363352038694653302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/11/circle-of-life.html' title='Circle of Life'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-7734363267128377582</id><published>2007-11-11T21:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T21:21:05.485-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hangover'/><title type='text'>A Clamp For My Head</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/Rze4e5GzSRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/akBUAeRyx8I/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/Rze4e5GzSRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/akBUAeRyx8I/s320/Picture+2.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131773141276903698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the bajillionith sunday in a row that I have woken up and immediately have had to direct my attention towards my head.  Today marked an official turning point though.  I came to the realization that I need to buy a clamp for my head because the amount of pressure my head is letting out needs to be matched.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, I too find it kind of funny that my initial reaction is not to stop drinking as uch, but to buy a clamp!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to get back to nursing my hangover (yes it is 9 pm at night!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-7734363267128377582?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7734363267128377582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=7734363267128377582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7734363267128377582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7734363267128377582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/11/clamp-for-my-head.html' title='A Clamp For My Head'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/Rze4e5GzSRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/akBUAeRyx8I/s72-c/Picture+2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2429452203672367337</id><published>2007-11-05T14:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T14:03:39.411-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind Words From Kim</title><content type='html'>First off many congrats to you Kim!!!&lt;br /&gt;Second, here is the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"bottom line your freakin cool. so that drives men crazy"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, it's nice to hear that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2429452203672367337?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2429452203672367337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2429452203672367337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2429452203672367337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2429452203672367337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/11/kind-words-from-kim.html' title='Kind Words From Kim'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6918673328929210024</id><published>2007-11-05T12:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T12:07:46.762-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stephen Colbert'/><title type='text'>Colbert For President!!!!!!!!!1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/Ry9Nm9SUM5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/-KWueaWdR2M/s1600-h/colbert.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/Ry9Nm9SUM5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/-KWueaWdR2M/s320/colbert.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129403832280036242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;"I am offended by reality all the time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6918673328929210024?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6918673328929210024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6918673328929210024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6918673328929210024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6918673328929210024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/11/colbert-for-president1.html' title='Colbert For President!!!!!!!!!1'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/Ry9Nm9SUM5I/AAAAAAAAAAc/-KWueaWdR2M/s72-c/colbert.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-7999448389587285381</id><published>2007-11-04T16:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T16:53:12.784-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Astonished</title><content type='html'>I am absolutely, positively, continuously astonished by how selfish people can be.  I think it astonishes me to no end because I am CONSTANTLY thinking about other people's feelings.  I actually wonder often how someone could spend so much time thinking about one's self.  Does that truly make people happy?  I'm fairly certain that we were not all put on this earth to fend for ourselves, rather to work together, to be one huge community, working together to improve the world for generations to come.  &lt;br /&gt;*We were certainly not put here to kill other people, war should be banished.*&lt;br /&gt;*We were not put here to make others feel inferior, All men are created equal. *&lt;br /&gt;*We were not put here to be overworked and undervalued.  You should always work to live, not live to work.*&lt;br /&gt;*We were not put here to have any regrets; everything you do, every feeling you have, everywhere you have been is an experience, good or bad.  These experiences make us who we are.*&lt;br /&gt;*On that note, it is not about the experience, but rather what you do with the experience, how you react, that truthfully makes you the person that you are.*&lt;br /&gt;*We are not here to live in solitude.  You should never feel alone, there is always someone, somewhere you can go.*&lt;br /&gt;Always remember, you are someone!  Everyone has a purpose, a reason for being here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to my original reason for posting, people's selfishness.  I just have to again ask HOW?!?  How do you get like that? How do you live like that?  How can you not care about other people's feelings and other people's happiness?  How do you not think about how your actions can affect someone else?  The problem is that life should be fun, FOR EVERYONE! And your selfishness is making it impossible for life to be fun for anyone. That is so not fair!  Maybe walk a mile in someone else's shoes, and see how it feels....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sum it up, if you are constantly thinking about yourself and you are the only one you think about, in the end that's where you will be...ALL ALONE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-7999448389587285381?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7999448389587285381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=7999448389587285381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7999448389587285381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7999448389587285381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/11/astonished.html' title='Astonished'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-99146369033079473</id><published>2007-10-28T21:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T21:05:04.497-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlie Candy Mountain'/><title type='text'>Charlieeeee We Have To Go To Candy Mountain</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JPONTneuaF4&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JPONTneuaF4&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-99146369033079473?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/99146369033079473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=99146369033079473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/99146369033079473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/99146369033079473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/10/charlieeeee-we-have-to-go-to-candy.html' title='Charlieeeee We Have To Go To Candy Mountain'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-5361585624589137522</id><published>2007-10-08T07:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T15:45:55.127-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spirit Air Flight 710'/><title type='text'>Lots Of Yelling..</title><content type='html'>After being in florida for 9 days and watching my grandfather die and then having a funeral, I was  (and am) beyond ready to get back home in new york city.  I got to the airport 2 hours early with my sister and her boyfriend who were also flying Spirit Airlines (worst airline ever!) back to chicago.  After waiting for a little bit in the terminal together we found out that both of our flights were delayed, along with about 4 or 5 other Spirit flights.  My 8:05 pm departure time turned into 9:15 pm.  Their 8:20 pm departure time turned into 9:15 pm as well.  When the time to board comes around they start boarding and my flight is still waiting for a plane to arrive, so we get pushed back to 9:30 pm.  9:30 pm quickly became 9:50.  Finally, a plane arrived, passengers deplaned and there was a quick clean-up and boarding.  All is good right, SOOO NOT RIGHT!!  After most of the passengers are seated the captain gets on the speaker and tells us that there is a mechanical problem and it should be no more then 10 minutes for them to look at and get paperwork done for it, fine, after this long what's 10 minutes.  Well, a little bit after that the captain gets back on the speaker and tells us that our flight can no longer land at LaGuardia airport and we are now going to be landing at JFK, didn't make a difference, but oh my gosh the YELLLING that followed that was insane.  So many people were yelling.  The captain said to call whomever we needed to call and let them know and then we were on our way.  A few minutes,and a LOT of crazy yelling, later the captain gets back and asks the yelling passengers to calm down so we can take off, also letting us know that if we do not take off in the next 14 minutes we will have exceeded some FAA regulations and would not be able to take off at all...&lt;br /&gt;So this 14 minutes comes and goes and in the interim of it you hear the wheels of the plane attempting to turn, already I am thinking I would rather get off the plane because I just don't think it's going to make it.  (This is not pessimism, but just the nature of my flight experiences!)  So the captain gets on and tells the flight attendants to disarm the doors.  Ironically, they look shocked that this is what's hapening.  Then the captain gets back on the intercom and says that because people couldn't calm down and get in their seats that we surpassed this 14-minute-time limit and would not be able to take off.  Imagine what happened next.....that's right YELLING...Now, I am not a fan of spirit airlines, BUT i will also say that the same people that were yelling, are the SAME people that wouldn't shut the hell up and it made it harder for us to go anywhere.  In the process of all this, people have their cell phones out taking videos and are screaming, CALL CNN, I'm calling my congressman. Honestly, why can't people just accept that somethings in life are unavoidable.  Sometimes, you just have to say you know what, I know this sucks, not just for me, but for EVERYONE involved, and I am going to suck it up and handle it like the grown up that I am. &lt;br /&gt;Nope, that is not a common mentality.  Maybe people need to hang out more with my friend mary jane and then it would be but whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we finally all deplane and they tell us to go to the ticket counters where they said they had rallied all the ticket agents.  We get there, and for a good 15-20 minutes, there is not a single ticket agent or airline representative to be found.  &lt;br /&gt;I decide to call my fam, have them come pick me up, book a flight on another airline for the next morning and call it a night.  I started to get my refund on the phone and then found out that I could go this line, which i thought was going to be easier.  Ohhh was i wrong...Not only was it slow, BUT this man was determined to make it difficult for everyone.  He was there with his fam, but needed to ask a question, he went to ask a question and then the airline representative went to find out the answer, however he was in the way of the other passengers getting their refunds so the ticket agent asked him to move, to which he responded with yelling.  So security comes out and they are trying to calm him down, then this women in line starts yelling at the security people to stop yelling at him, so now they are asking her to please calm down. She is all riled up, he is all riled up and then this other woman decides to start yelling at the security guards for trying to calm down this woman who is screaming at them about screaming at this other man.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, this was not a happy end to an already terrible week.  But hey, at least it provided me something to blog about right?  Oh and it was also the tipping point in convincing my parents that a private jet IS the way to go!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. if you google spirit airlines flight 710 you will get some good articles about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-5361585624589137522?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/5361585624589137522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=5361585624589137522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5361585624589137522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5361585624589137522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/10/lots-of-yelling.html' title='Lots Of Yelling..'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8009676742716403339</id><published>2007-10-01T14:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T14:18:32.735-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heroes'/><title type='text'>Heroes</title><content type='html'>I heart Heroes!!  I missed it all during the first season and am currently watching season 1 and I am a huuuuuge fan!! Such a great show, so well done.  I am looking forward to finishng season one and and starting to watch season 2.  I am officially on the bandwagon!  If you don't watch I highly recommend doing so!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8009676742716403339?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8009676742716403339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8009676742716403339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8009676742716403339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8009676742716403339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/10/heroes.html' title='Heroes'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-3029834353369472365</id><published>2007-09-29T22:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T22:19:21.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>bad things come in 3s</title><content type='html'>they say bad things come in 3s right?  AM I FRIGGIN DONE YET, OR ARE WE NOW ONTO MULTIPLES OF 3?!?! cut me some slack PLEASE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-3029834353369472365?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/3029834353369472365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=3029834353369472365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/3029834353369472365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/3029834353369472365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/09/bad-things-come-in-3s.html' title='bad things come in 3s'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8519969425110745009</id><published>2007-09-29T06:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T06:42:00.872-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to be a kid again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go."&lt;/span&gt; ~Author Unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, growing up kinda sucks.  I want to go back to the days where I didn't have to worry about anything, wasn't afraid of this and that, really just freedom of the mind!    I will however say that at least growing up you get to learn who you really are, what life is all about, see new things, meet new people and make new marks on the world.  So maybe it doesn't suck, but right now, at this very moment (at 6:40 am on a saturday morning sitting on the airport floor) I just want to be a kid again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8519969425110745009?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8519969425110745009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8519969425110745009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8519969425110745009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8519969425110745009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-want-to-be-kid-again.html' title='I want to be a kid again'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2717761467783635407</id><published>2007-09-26T14:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T14:50:52.991-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ranting</title><content type='html'>What is that saying, "people always want to kick you when you're down."  What is that all about??!!?  What kind of a person wouldn't want to help pick you back up?  You know, pay it forward.  Why is that people find it so much easier to make someone's life a living hell as opposed to helping that out.  You know where this wouldn't happen, on my PRIVATE ISLAND that i will someday move to!  &lt;br /&gt;Thought of the day: People need to just suck it up.&lt;br /&gt;"Those who matter don't mind&lt;br /&gt;and those who mind, don't matter."&lt;br /&gt;-Dr. Seuss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2717761467783635407?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2717761467783635407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2717761467783635407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2717761467783635407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2717761467783635407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/09/ranting.html' title='Ranting'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2495682180488766670</id><published>2007-09-23T22:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T22:38:56.393-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secrets'/><title type='text'>secrets..</title><content type='html'>what exactly is a secret?  There are the secrets people keep from eachother.  In all honesty, what is the point of that?!? Isn't it better just to say how you feel, or tell people the truth?  Oh if only it were that easy, imagine that, imagine if you could just say what you feel and be done with it.  Imagine the mental and emotional weights that would be lifted there.  I am an honest person, especially these days.  I just wish  our society was set up in a way that you could just say what you want.  I think maybe it is more about the fact that I hate ambiguity, I hate not knowing, which is probably why I wanted to be a journalist early on in life, I wanted to be in the know.  I always say, I am on a need-to-know basis and I need to know everything.  Someday, someday we will get there.  &lt;br /&gt;There are also the secrets people keep from themselves.  But my question/observation is, are you really keeping the secret from yourself, or is it denial.  Do we deny things, feelings to protect ourselves from getting hurt?  It's to hard in many situations to open up and feel something, because what if you get hurt, what if it doesn't work out.&lt;br /&gt;MEH, you know what i say....you only live once, better to have tried and failed then never to have tried at all.&lt;br /&gt;LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2495682180488766670?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2495682180488766670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2495682180488766670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2495682180488766670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2495682180488766670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/09/secrets.html' title='secrets..'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-8080245813593310825</id><published>2007-09-15T12:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T12:29:18.185-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hmm...</title><content type='html'>why is it that if you never have something, you never want it, but once you have something you continue to want it...hmmm?!?!  Life is weird like that.&lt;br /&gt;random thought of the day....but here are some more quotes I like!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murphy's Law&lt;br /&gt;The first myth of management is that it exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olive Schreiner&lt;br /&gt;My feeling is that there is nothing in life but refraining from hurting others, and comforting those who are sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wizard of Oz&lt;br /&gt;Hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Richard Bach&lt;br /&gt;If you love something, set it free; if it comes backs it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cinderella&lt;br /&gt;Do you love me because I am beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joan Crawford&lt;br /&gt;Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house, you can never tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-8080245813593310825?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/8080245813593310825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=8080245813593310825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8080245813593310825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/8080245813593310825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/09/hmm.html' title='hmm...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6803942515518305753</id><published>2007-09-08T14:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T14:20:46.267-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 10'/><title type='text'>Funny T-Shirt Sayings</title><content type='html'>This came from about.com I believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;Procrastinate Now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;All men are idiots And I married their king.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;In America Anyone Can Be President That's One of the Risks You Take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;Hard work has a future payoff Laziness pays off now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;Where there's a will... I want to be in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;EARTH FIRST! We'll strip-mine the other planets later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;Alcohol and calculus don't mix. Never drink and derive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;I wear the brains in the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;No sense in being pessimistic It wouldn't work anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Funny T Shirt Saying&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry My fault I forgot you were an idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6803942515518305753?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6803942515518305753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6803942515518305753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6803942515518305753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6803942515518305753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/09/funny-t-shirt-sayings.html' title='Funny T-Shirt Sayings'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-4489645845227354020</id><published>2007-09-06T22:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T23:13:08.040-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Friendship Quotes</title><content type='html'>it's amazing sometimes to just sit back and observe.  In fact, I don't even need to sit back, i'm an active observer, always had a natural love for psychology.  People say actions speak louder than words, funny how that works out.   I could go on, but I won't right now.....&lt;br /&gt;Here are some quotes about friendship for you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my new favorite quotes....&lt;br /&gt;"A friend is someone, who upon seeing another friend in immense pain, would rather be the one experiencing the pain than to have to watch their friend suffer."&lt;br /&gt;Amanda Grier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light."&lt;br /&gt;Helen Keller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;br /&gt;Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Usual Suspects&lt;br /&gt;Kobayashi: One cannot be betrayed if one has no people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-4489645845227354020?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/4489645845227354020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=4489645845227354020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4489645845227354020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4489645845227354020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/09/friendship-quotes.html' title='Friendship Quotes'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6733107952633863155</id><published>2007-08-18T00:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T00:40:42.532-04:00</updated><title type='text'>quotes of the night..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Quote 1:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Amy:  "Someday your emotions will just shut off"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote 2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dustin: (to laura) "You married me, it's your problem now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Quote 3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An even drunker Dustin: (to random person on the street, in an attempt to take care of me) "Hey Whitey, don't look at her, she's my sister!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6733107952633863155?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6733107952633863155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6733107952633863155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6733107952633863155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6733107952633863155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/quotes-of-night.html' title='quotes of the night..'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2937802781165383659</id><published>2007-08-18T00:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T00:36:31.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'll miss.............</title><content type='html'>I've been home in MD for barely 1 day and I already have a list of things I will miss in a week:&lt;br /&gt;my pool, my luxury life-style, the balcony, my car,the clean metro and the sign that counts down to the second when the next train will be here, california tortilla, rori, nights out, laura, dustin, amy, josh, my own CLEAN bathroom, carpeting, a stocked kitchen, the suburbs, the fam(most of the time), my bed, in-home washer and dryer, mom to do the washing and the drying, time, space, and the cusp of sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2937802781165383659?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2937802781165383659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2937802781165383659' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2937802781165383659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2937802781165383659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/what-ill-miss.html' title='What I&apos;ll miss.............'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-4336491626692928422</id><published>2007-08-12T21:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T21:34:35.381-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='post secret'/><title type='text'>Post Secret Mini Movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/B6rTkp1dek4"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/B6rTkp1dek4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS REALLY IS ONE OF THE COOLEST THINGS, CHECK OUT THE NEW MINI MOVIE, AND GO BUY THE BOOK!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-4336491626692928422?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/4336491626692928422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=4336491626692928422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4336491626692928422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4336491626692928422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/post-secret-mini-movie.html' title='Post Secret Mini Movie'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-3519065019252704646</id><published>2007-08-12T21:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T21:26:01.082-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 10'/><title type='text'>Another Top 10..</title><content type='html'>TOP 10 JOBS I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) MAILPERSON (MAIL TRUCK &amp; ALL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) SONGWRITER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) THERAPIST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) CAMP DIRECTOR/OWNER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) EDITOR-IN-CHIEF OF A MAGAZINE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) CEO OF A FORTUNTE 500 COMPANY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) THE PERSON WHO WRITES THE DESCRIPTIONS FOR PRODUCTS IN CATALOGS OR ONLINE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) TRAVEL WRITER (HOW GREAT WOULD IT BE TO TRAVEL ALL OVER THE WORLD FOR WORK, AND THEN WRITE ABOUT IT?!?!?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) STAND-UP COMEDIAN/ TALK-SHOW HOST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND THE NUMBER ONE JOB I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) GOLF-CART DRIVER (CADDIE NOT INCLUDED!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-3519065019252704646?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/3519065019252704646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=3519065019252704646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/3519065019252704646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/3519065019252704646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/another-top-10.html' title='Another Top 10..'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-5413452123263312157</id><published>2007-08-08T13:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T13:21:54.019-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jamie Just Made My Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;JamieMorph (12:52:54 PM): oh joyous day indeed!&lt;br /&gt;JamieMorph (12:53:23 PM): God is so gangsta&lt;br /&gt;JamieMorph (12:53:44 PM): (that's from Big Brother 8 in case you don't watch)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the conversation doesn't even matter, JAMIE, YOU ARE FUCKING AWESOME :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-5413452123263312157?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/5413452123263312157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=5413452123263312157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5413452123263312157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5413452123263312157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/jamie-just-made-my-day.html' title='Jamie Just Made My Day'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-4973029671341753456</id><published>2007-08-08T00:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T00:27:49.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarter-Life Crisis</title><content type='html'>craaaaaaaaaaaappp is really all that i can say right now, BUT these inpsirational quotes say sooooo much more....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." -Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within." -Elizabeth Kubler Ross&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." - Martin Luther King Jr.&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-4973029671341753456?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/4973029671341753456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=4973029671341753456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4973029671341753456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/4973029671341753456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/quarter-life-crisis.html' title='Quarter-Life Crisis'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-7553620981675096642</id><published>2007-08-06T23:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T23:30:23.105-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Evolution of Dance'/><title type='text'>Where Did He Come From Cotton Eyed Joe......</title><content type='html'>For anyone who hasn't seen this.....you are missing out :)&lt;br /&gt;The EVOLUTION OF DANCE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dMH0bHeiRNg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dMH0bHeiRNg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-7553620981675096642?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7553620981675096642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=7553620981675096642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7553620981675096642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7553620981675096642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/where-did-he-come-from-cotton-eyed-joe.html' title='Where Did He Come From Cotton Eyed Joe......'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-5418395407268748828</id><published>2007-08-06T23:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T23:19:51.577-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lesson of the day'/><title type='text'>Lesson Of The Day</title><content type='html'>Here is your lesson of the day by Josh Rao:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Multi-tasking is just a distraction unless you're being doubly productive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me to write that down, so I thought I would share it with everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANKS JOSH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-5418395407268748828?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/5418395407268748828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=5418395407268748828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5418395407268748828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5418395407268748828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/08/lesson-of-day.html' title='Lesson Of The Day'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-2676197020668288641</id><published>2007-07-30T22:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T22:56:00.437-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 10'/><title type='text'>The Top 10.....</title><content type='html'>THINGS ALL NEW YORKERS SHOULD COME TO REALIZE:&lt;br /&gt;10) Maybe, just maybe, not EVERYONE is in as big of a rush as you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Standing in the middle of the street, isn't going to make the light change ANY faster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) If everyone who got on the subway just filed in like normal, considerate, polite people, we wouldn't all have to feel like we were packed in like sardines now would we?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Although people in middle america can't vote for shit, maybe adopting some of their polite ways wouldn't be such a bad idea.. a little excuse me here, an i'm sorry there, can I hold that door for you?!?  Nothing out of the ordinary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Life has got to be better than pouring your blood, sweat and tears into your work only to have to take a vast majority of your earnings and put it into those 2x4's we call home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Everything is Relative&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) There is life outside of these city limits, a world that exists outside of New York&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Just because you live in NYC doesn't mean that it is any less weird when you put the contents of your closet together in ways that only the cutest child could get away with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) It's ok to need to a break from this crazy city&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Pot Happens :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-2676197020668288641?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/2676197020668288641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=2676197020668288641' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2676197020668288641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/2676197020668288641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/07/top-10.html' title='The Top 10.....'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-6185990110141543993</id><published>2007-07-25T00:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T00:36:36.114-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Guy'/><title type='text'>Stewie's Sexy Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3julT_t5ZB0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3julT_t5ZB0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-6185990110141543993?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6185990110141543993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=6185990110141543993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6185990110141543993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/6185990110141543993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/07/stewies-sexy-party.html' title='Stewie&apos;s Sexy Party'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-7539731004410745617</id><published>2007-07-24T23:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T23:57:26.214-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bugs'/><title type='text'>i hate bugs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I decided that I would suck it up and do my own laundry, (i normally do, but hadn't done it in forever)  So, i'm waiting for the first load to dry, reading Harry Potter and something caught my eye, so I looked down.  There it was, possibly the biggest bug I have ever seen in my life.....A COCKROACH.. That thing was seriously bigger than I am.  Needless to say, I have some pretty wet clothes hanging around my apartment, but at least i don't have a giant cockroach.  EEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW, i'm so disturbed by the cockroach, eeeewww, eeewwwww eeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-7539731004410745617?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7539731004410745617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=7539731004410745617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7539731004410745617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7539731004410745617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-hate-bugs.html' title='i hate bugs'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-3749425456905939126</id><published>2007-07-23T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T21:56:27.068-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='post secret'/><title type='text'>Post Secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/RqVXTE040zI/AAAAAAAAAAU/z4F0bUCUTys/s1600-h/secret.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/RqVXTE040zI/AAAAAAAAAAU/z4F0bUCUTys/s400/secret.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090570939036914482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the greatest coffeetable book ever, it is under my nightstand, but still, the best book ever.  and the website gets new updates every sunday!! check it out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/RqVXJE040yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/xc2AcPtlQ5w/s1600-h/postsecret.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/RqVXJE040yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/xc2AcPtlQ5w/s400/postsecret.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090570767238222626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://postsecret.blogspot.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-3749425456905939126?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/3749425456905939126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=3749425456905939126' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/3749425456905939126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/3749425456905939126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/07/post-secret.html' title='Post Secret'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/RqVXTE040zI/AAAAAAAAAAU/z4F0bUCUTys/s72-c/secret.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-1144530277698903018</id><published>2007-07-23T20:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T21:10:47.804-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='airport'/><title type='text'>aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!</title><content type='html'>Ok, well the Title hopefully got all the screaming out of me.  There are soooo many things I want to write about, but I think I will stick to cynicism.  Recently I went to the airport and when I got there I realized I didn't have my license, or any photo identification......PROBLEM, right? Yeah, no, not-so-much apparently.  I went to security with my pre-printed boarding pass and asked what I do if I have like 500 forms of other ID, but nothing with a picture on it.  They told me to go to the ticket counter and they will take care of it.  Still, I'm thinking, this is going to be a huge problem.  I get to the ticket counter, explain the situation and the guy goes, no problem, I show him ONE, just ONE form of id and they give me a new boarding pass that basically says I will be getting pulled aside and checked.  So I go back to security, go through the line and get pulled aside and quickly checked.  So, we are living post 9-11 where, generally speaking, security is pretty high.  Bullshit, I didn't have any photo id and you barely even looked up at me, and certainly didn't ask me any questions, and then just let me on the plane.  That doesn't make me feel all that comfortable about my safety at airports (or anywhere)..how 'bout you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-1144530277698903018?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/1144530277698903018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=1144530277698903018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1144530277698903018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/1144530277698903018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/07/aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.html' title='aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-9158836986743941259</id><published>2007-07-22T16:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T16:42:24.519-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chill</title><content type='html'>..even in this summer heat, I can feel the chill that's in the air.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-9158836986743941259?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/9158836986743941259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=9158836986743941259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/9158836986743941259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/9158836986743941259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/07/chill.html' title='Chill'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-439877499889299024</id><published>2007-07-22T16:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T16:42:55.505-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bellhop'/><title type='text'>Looking For A Bellhop</title><content type='html'>After a lot of thought and conversation, there has been a group decision that what i need, is a bellhop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-439877499889299024?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/439877499889299024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=439877499889299024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/439877499889299024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/439877499889299024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/07/looking-for-bellhp.html' title='Looking For A Bellhop'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-181968491178262566</id><published>2007-05-30T23:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T23:25:47.305-04:00</updated><title type='text'>pondering</title><content type='html'>So, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; in the pondering mood, which always leads to lots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;why's&lt;/span&gt;?  I was going to say what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;if's&lt;/span&gt;? but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; not a big fan of what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;if's&lt;/span&gt;, you only live once, may as well lead a life of no regrets.  I can honestly say in my entire existence I only have one real regret, and I think that's a pretty good place to be.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, this is not at all where I wanted this train of thought to go..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to one of my closest friends tonight, and she said something that really made me think about how we all perceive things.  Think about it like this, you go out with 2 other friends, one of you gets really really drunk, whomever got that drunk made a fool of themselves, and was an ass to the other two.  The two, less drunk friends are annoyed by the friends behavior, and by extension their night was ruined because they had to "babysit" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;drunky&lt;/span&gt; over there.  The next day you all wake up and are recounting the night, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Drunky&lt;/span&gt; thinks the night was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; much fun, a little holes that need to be filled in, but overall their night was a 10.  The friends are thinking, wow, I can't believe she thinks last night was that much fun, she made a complete fool of herself, and we had to take care of her, overall our nights were about a 4.  Years down the road when they all think back on that night, it will be very different for everyone, and although &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Drunky&lt;/span&gt; remembers having a great time, she won't remember how it made her friends feel.  I feel like i just experienced something a lot like that, with drastically different circumstances.  All i know at this moment is that my recollection of that time is much more on point. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-181968491178262566?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/181968491178262566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=181968491178262566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/181968491178262566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/181968491178262566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/05/pondering.html' title='pondering'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-7580639996966873474</id><published>2007-03-19T00:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T00:15:08.529-04:00</updated><title type='text'>circle</title><content type='html'>..and just as soon as it came to an end, the circle began around again....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-7580639996966873474?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7580639996966873474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=7580639996966873474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7580639996966873474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/7580639996966873474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/03/circle.html' title='circle'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-5676325610608798815</id><published>2007-03-15T23:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T00:13:47.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>stepping stones</title><content type='html'>"once in a while we get shown the light in the darkest of places..."&lt;br /&gt;and once in a while out of nothing comes something.&lt;br /&gt;just when you think you finally have it all down, a wind comes sweeping through and knocks it all over and you have to start from the beginning...again! &lt;br /&gt;Life and our experiences really are this perpetual circle, no idea where they start and end, you get half way around and have to go back and now you don't know if you are going forward or backwards. &lt;br /&gt;My advice, tread lightly, for the faster and deeper you go, the more it hurts when you fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-5676325610608798815?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/5676325610608798815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=5676325610608798815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5676325610608798815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/5676325610608798815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2007/03/stepping-stones.html' title='stepping stones'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-116603177322030275</id><published>2006-12-13T12:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T12:42:53.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So here's my beef...</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I have heard this message before and been like wow that's rude, but last night when i was on the subway I heard this message over the loudspeaker and was soo irate.....&lt;br /&gt;Here's the message:&lt;br /&gt;"Attention all passengers in a wheelchair, in order to exit at a certain stop by wheelchair you must be in the 6th car of the train at  door 1 and 2.  If you are not on that train then you must get off at another stop cross over the ramp and switch to a completely different line."&lt;br /&gt;Now obviously that is not verbatim, but it is the main point....&lt;br /&gt;Come on people... First of all, how is anyone supposed to know what car they are in?  I can't count from the inside and there were no signs as far as I could tell on the inside.  Not only that, you are supposed to be accomodating everyone, how are you going to go and make the handicapped people get off the train and then cross over a ramp then get back on another line, just because you can't accomodate them.  I'm sure it is not that hard to open up all the doors on the train so that someone who is in a wheelchair can get off.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to need to find a way to do something about this, DAMN YOU PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-116603177322030275?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/116603177322030275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=116603177322030275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/116603177322030275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/116603177322030275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/12/so-heres-my-beef.html' title='So here&apos;s my beef...'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-116571954697864202</id><published>2006-12-09T21:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T21:59:07.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rising Fever</title><content type='html'>So I'm pretty sure I was just sick, but hey...why wouldn't I be sick again, it is..after all the lay of the land. So I don't know if I have a fever anymore or if the room I am in is just UNBELIEVABLY hot....&lt;br /&gt;I keep having all these things I want to write about and never have the time..now that I have time I don't know what to write about so I'm just going to play it as it comes.&lt;br /&gt;So I'm in NYC, and I'm working at an interactive advertising agency and I absolutely love it. Besides being a camp counselor, I have never loved a job soo much in my life. I'm learning more than I ever imagined and can't wait to learn more everyday. So that's a plus. And I LOVE the people I work with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the following is what I've learned about life that I wish someone would have shared with me:&lt;br /&gt;Now matter how you thought something would happen, how you pictured it, it will never live up to your expectations. It is better not to have any expectations because then you can't get hurt.. (a lot easier to say then to do.)&lt;br /&gt;I've made some new friends and reconnected with some old ones, But I never thought that the ones in-between would vanish.&lt;br /&gt;That no matter how much someone thinks they love you, if they don't understand you, and can't take the time to, then sometimes love isn't enough.&lt;br /&gt;That some parts of growing up absolutely suck, but it's not about what happens to you, it's how you handle what happens to you that matters.&lt;br /&gt;That nobody will care about you the way you want them to...unless you let them.&lt;br /&gt;That my family will always make me the happiest, flaws and all.&lt;br /&gt;That everyone deserves to be happy, and sometimes the only way to get there is to finally think about yourself.&lt;br /&gt;That it's OK to be who you are, because every single one of us makes the world go round.&lt;br /&gt;That people change and sometimes they lose the necessity for you in their life, or the capacity they need you in their life.......and that's OK.&lt;br /&gt;That life is nothing more than what you make of it, and until you realize that..the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is light-years away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-116571954697864202?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/116571954697864202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=116571954697864202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/116571954697864202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/116571954697864202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/12/rising-fever.html' title='Rising Fever'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-116066546207845707</id><published>2006-10-12T11:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T11:05:45.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>perfection my a$$hole!</title><content type='html'>Dove keeps running these amazing campaigns for real beauty.  I have done a ton of papers and articles on how "perfect" doesn't even really exist.  People who strive for "perfection" are striving for an unattainable goal.  Check out Dove's newest ad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;http://www.campaignforrealbeauty.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-116066546207845707?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/116066546207845707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=116066546207845707' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/116066546207845707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/116066546207845707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/10/perfection-my-ahole.html' title='perfection my a$$hole!'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-115990998630313254</id><published>2006-10-03T17:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T17:13:06.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'>comb overs</title><content type='html'>Why is that every man that's noteworthy on the news or is a contact, attorney, spokesperson for this, that and everything has a friggin' comb over?!?!  I mean seriously, you clearly make enough money to have someone come to you and make your hair presentable, this is the year 2006 and people, not 1946.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-115990998630313254?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/115990998630313254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=115990998630313254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115990998630313254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115990998630313254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/10/comb-overs.html' title='comb overs'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-115945132044125331</id><published>2006-09-28T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T09:48:40.663-04:00</updated><title type='text'>random rant</title><content type='html'>I have never really been a fan of public transportation, while the idea of it is nice, the reality of it is  kind of gross.  A bunch of random people all touching the same bars, sitting in the same seats, breathing on eachother (not purposely) and it is all just way to close for comfort. Then again, I am really big on personal space, you know my dancing space.............your dancing space?!?   That's just on the actual train...now I know that everyone in new york is in this huge rush to go everywhere and nowhere at the same time, but people can't seem to figure out how to operate on natural human laws.   People get so pissed off because someone is in their way, honestly people, down the right side and up the left, it's not hard.  I'm always the type that's like crap, i'm in your way, but not anymore, now these people are breaking the laws and it's not working for anyone.  The subway could be soo simple if people would just let it be.....   Now if we could only work on the sanitary factor...meh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-115945132044125331?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/115945132044125331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=115945132044125331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115945132044125331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115945132044125331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/09/random-rant.html' title='random rant'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-115893156400639304</id><published>2006-09-22T09:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T09:26:04.020-04:00</updated><title type='text'>NYC</title><content type='html'>ok, so again it's been a while....sorry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have to change the name of my blog because it is no longer going to be solely about those agonizing customer service stories.  I have finally, it only took 3 years, moved to new york city.  With many, many, many and millions of thanks to my friend Sari, I got a job.  (and p.s. Sari, this place is great, i love it!!!!)  So I am about to finish up my first week and have nothing but good things to say about it.  There's a guy here who has a blog, check it out.... &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;http://amediacirc.us&lt;/span&gt;   it's pretty awesome and there is no end to the plethora of media knowledge on there. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know this is short one for me since I tend to be rather long-winded but there is work to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-115893156400639304?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/115893156400639304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=115893156400639304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115893156400639304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115893156400639304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/09/nyc.html' title='NYC'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-115198683167104210</id><published>2006-07-04T00:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T00:44:04.290-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Clearing Path</title><content type='html'>It's been a while, but since my last post lots has changed! I quit, (finally!) It became crystal clear that I am too smart for the place that was employing me. Unfortunately, I also came to the realization that I would not be the one person to change their world from within, so I quit! Now I can go and pursue the life I was meant to live. When I gave my notice to my new boss, who has known me for all of a month, the first words that came out of his mouth were, "I saw that coming." I don't care who you are, or what the situation is, but that is the absolute most inappropriate, insulting, inconsiderate words that could come out of your mouth. This just makes me replay the question in my mind, "What the hell is wrong with people?!?!" In my time working for this company I have met a lot of people that have absolutely no filter from their minds to their mouths. Maybe I over think what I am going to say sometimes, however I would rather that than be standing in front of someone who now has their jaw on the floor. I honestly used to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; like people, I still do, but now I think people need to come with warning signs, mood skins or perhaps just a passport to the land of crazy since I have yet to take a permanent residence there. At least for right now I am no longer in the customer service industry and I am free to be myself. So here's to a new road where I'm sure to find many more residents of the land of crazy and hopefully some residents of planet earth, where human kindness prevails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-115198683167104210?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/115198683167104210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=115198683167104210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115198683167104210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/115198683167104210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/07/clearing-path.html' title='A Clearing Path'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-114593670206535252</id><published>2006-04-24T23:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T12:21:30.850-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We Close at 8</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I guess I can not completely blame the customers, I mean you do have to practically walk into the window to see what our hours are, but once you've seen them, don't you think you should comply with them?!?! Oh, yeah, that's right, I forgot, the world revolves around you. Please do not be concerned with the fact that we have now been closed for 30 minutes and you are still browsing around, oh and don't worry, I don't mind that I JUST FUCKING FOLDED THAT PILE(and you watched me), please feel free to rummage through it.&lt;br /&gt;Here is the typical scene from 7:45 PM on, at around 7:45 we close one door, just a slight hint that we are getting ready to close, at around 7:50 PM we lower the music, blow out the candles, and pull in the bench (if there is one outside.) Anywhere from 7:55 PM to 7:59 PM, the music goes completely off, everyone that is working there is focused on straightening and have obviously lost interest in you. 8:00 PM, the door officially closes. We are lucky if there are no customers left at that time, but typically there are 4-6 people walking around or in the fitting room. At this point, it is apparent that we are closed. You have your stragglers who genuinely did not know that you were closing and apologize profusely to you. We also have the people who want to just walk around and then pretend they did not know you were closed, and then they can't even muster up the decency to say thank you when you unlock the door for them. Then you have the people who &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;every time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; they are in your store they stay past the time you close, yet &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;every time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; they act like they don't know you are closed. Let me tell you, they are winning no Oscars for that performance. The absolute best are the people that bang on your door or peer through your window with that questioned look on their face, are you closed?? UMMMM, hello, the door is locked and the parking lot is empty, yes we are closed.&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I just can not forget to mention the people that are like I just want to look around, I've never been here before, I won't buy anything! And with that statement, I can guarantee you have bought yourself a one-way ticket out the door. You think I am going to let you peruse around my store for an hour so you can buy nothing, AFTER we are closed. Oh sweetie, you are seriously delusional.&lt;br /&gt;Everytime it happens, everytime someone stays past the time we are closed, I can't seem to fathom mankind. I would love to go to where these people work right when they are getting ready to go and just have them stand around waiting for me, I'll ask them questions, have them find me things, whatever, just to make them have to stay past the time they want to go. So I say to any customer out there reading this, when a store closes, that's it they are closed. And after you finally leave we have to clean up the mess you have made all day long, so every second you stay longer is another second you are taking off of my life. So remember that, and please feel free to tell me where you work, I would be glad to give you a real-life example of this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-114593670206535252?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/114593670206535252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=114593670206535252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114593670206535252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114593670206535252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/04/we-close-at-8.html' title='We Close at 8'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-114282244898561906</id><published>2006-03-19T20:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-02T21:30:52.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So seriously??</title><content type='html'>So, seriously, is there an exact moment in a person's life when all of their moral fibers just vanish? Is there a switch to reality that turns off as soon as people hit a certain point in their life? I am just wondering when it is that people decide that no one else matters in this world except for themselves?? When is it that people decided that because you work in retail you must be the absolute scum of the earth and they have every right to treat you like shit? I mean when did that happen?&lt;br /&gt;When did they lose all ability to say, "excuse me," "thank you," "please," or to utter any other phrase that resembles etiquette? Instead, we get people that interrupt us no matter what we are doing, because what we are doing or discussing could not possibly be as pressing as what they have to say. We get people that feel the need to step behind the cash wrap even though that is clearly not the place for them, honestly people....your dancing space..........MY dancing space. BACK THE FUCK OFF!!!&lt;br /&gt;We get grown women who can not for the life of them put the clothes they &lt;em&gt;chose&lt;/em&gt; to try on back on the hanger. Many of them leave piles on the floor, they apparently think we are maids or something. Now I understand, some people might think, well hey that's your job, but really, is it my job to clean up after the over-privileged?? Ummmm, I think not.&lt;br /&gt;My absolute favorite is the people that pick something up, decide they don't want it and put it back backwards, I mean come on, it would definitely take less effort to put it back the right way, and if we were not constantly cleaning up after you, we could probably assist you more, which might get you off our asses about the whole customer service thing.&lt;br /&gt;Then there are those people who are just dying for a bargain. I MEAN HELLO, you are shopping in an expensive store, this isn't the dollar depot people! We have some customer's who somehow &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; find the item that is damaged, and it just happens to be their size and exactly what they were looking for, oh and ironically, the last one.&lt;br /&gt;"Actually, this has a stain on it, but it's the last one in my size, do you think I could get a discount on it?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know let me get out my magnifying glass and detective kit and see if I can find the non-existent stain, hole, damage, defect you are referring to!!"&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry though, because they will always get the discount, that's our company policy, give the customers everything they want, let them walk all over you, treat you like crap, and come back in a few days to do it all over again.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks president of the company for your customer friendly policies, oh and don't worry, when I get my therapy bill for the mental anguish you've caused me, I'll be sure to send the bill directly to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-114282244898561906?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/114282244898561906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=114282244898561906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114282244898561906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114282244898561906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/03/so-seriously.html' title='So seriously??'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-114230833366592826</id><published>2006-03-13T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T11:35:46.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where does all the good go?</title><content type='html'>So now that I have gotten into this whole blog thing I find myself constantly thinking of things to rant about. Not all of them are related to work either, but all are related to people. I have a continuing interest in people, which is ironic because working in retail really makes you question human beings on a constant basis. After one grueling Sunday with my co-worker and friend, she was left questioning her mortal being and I was gearing up to write a book titled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!?"&lt;br /&gt;The situations I have encountered working in retail are so unbelievably unreal that my entire management team thinks we are being videotaped for an un-named, yet-to-be aired reality series.&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely remember this one morning nearly a year ago when I was just going along with my normal routine for when I open the store; counting the drawers, payroll, filling out the zone chart, answering the phone, and &lt;em&gt;that's&lt;/em&gt; when &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt; happened.&lt;br /&gt;"Good Morning, thank you for calling...."&lt;br /&gt;"I'm looking for this mirror that's on your website, I wanted to see if you had it in the store?"&lt;br /&gt;"Ok, what does it look like?"&lt;br /&gt;"It is called the.."&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, we actually don't go by the names on the website, can you describe it for me?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, umm, it is oval shaped, has flowers, do you know what it is?"&lt;br /&gt;At this point I knew what she was referring to and asked to put her on hold so I could go and look for the item. Well we no longer had the item, so I picked up the phone and informed the woman on the phone that I was sorry but we no longer had that item. Seems kosher so far, well she then asked me if I could look it up and see what other stores have it. I told her, as I told every customer when they ask this question, that we do not have a system that allows us to do, but what I can do is take her information, fill out a request, locate the SKU for her (which neither she nor I had at the moment) and do a store-wide search to see if any location still had it. She asked how long it would take, I told her the entire process, doing the store-wide search, and getting it shipped to her could take up to two weeks. Well all that miss friendly on the other end of the phone heard was "two weeks" and she started screaming at me.&lt;br /&gt;"So you are telling me that it will take me two weeks to find the item?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, it will take two weeks for.."&lt;br /&gt;"Two weeks is ridiculous, I can't believe you can't just find it for me now."&lt;br /&gt;"the entire process, so you will receive it anywhere from now until two weeks from now."&lt;br /&gt;Well she had no interest, all she wanted to know is why at 8:30 AM I was unable to immediately find her a mirror, because honestly that is the most important thing in the world, clearly the most pressing matter is whether or not this woman gets her mirror. Well, she decided that my offer to help her find the mirror was completely unacceptable so she she was going to call other stores. I thought it was over from there, I mean I had done everything I could have at that particular moment. To find a SKU would have taken some time since we no longer had the item and either way I was going to have to still fill out a request for her since our store no longer had it. Time (and etiquette) was apparently something this woman lacked.&lt;br /&gt;So I continued on the things that I had to do, assuming that she would have better luck finding the item at another location and that my part in her all-consuming quest for her mirror was over.&lt;br /&gt;You have heard the saying never assume anything because it makes an ass out of you and me right? Exactly! The phone rings a little bit later and here is this woman again telling me how I must have no idea how to do my job, I must be completely incompetent because she called another store and they found it for her right then. She could not believe how unwilling I was to do my job. "That is your job" she told, I mean yelled at me. She hit a nerve with that comment but I held back, I tried to explain to her one last time that I did everything I could have done at that particular moment and, well it did not matter what else I said, all she wanted to do was yell at me and tell me what I moron she perceived me to be. She also wanted to know who my district manager because she wanted to complain about me.&lt;br /&gt;I had to warn my district manager because I knew how completely she would distort the truth to make herself seem like a victim. I offered her the same information I offer every customer that is looking for something that no longer exists in my particular location, but for her it was not good enough.&lt;br /&gt;Did I say, vaguely remembered?!? Ok, I will never forget this instance because it is a constant reminder how awful people can be and how wrong. This woman had no actual idea how much I had to do at that particular moment, what my actual job is, how hard I work, or how much intelligence I actually do possess. I had no idea that at 8:30 AM on a weekday that this woman would forever change the way I thought about people. No idea that this one high maintenance, self-serving, obnoxious woman would taint my ability to see the good in all people. It did raise a lot of questions though. I have a ton of questions about people, how did they get to be this way? Did their parents teach them the difference between right and wrong? When did they become to believe that the world revolves so perfectly around them?&lt;br /&gt;My list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;I am questioning human beings on a constant basis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-114230833366592826?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/114230833366592826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=114230833366592826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114230833366592826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114230833366592826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/03/where-does-all-good-go.html' title='Where does all the good go?'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-114196709708416398</id><published>2006-03-09T23:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T00:04:57.090-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Day</title><content type='html'>So, I know that I came to this blogging thing to be funny, but today is a very sad day and no amount of humor and cynicism could change that. Today the world has been forced to say goodbye to Joan Bogart. This is a woman who opened the doors of life to hundreds of young girls summer after summer. She helped give us all the opportunity to leave our families behind to come and be a part of the Wi-Co-Su-Ta family. Your kindness, dedication and love to that family is embedded in the hearts of so many. So today we are thinking of you, and your family and our hearts go out to you.&lt;br /&gt;I can only hope that the world appreciates what a precious jewel you were and celebrates the life that you lived and the legacy's you have left behind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-114196709708416398?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/114196709708416398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=114196709708416398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114196709708416398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114196709708416398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/03/sad-day.html' title='Sad Day'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23706651.post-114187834848087384</id><published>2006-03-08T22:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T23:25:48.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Customer Service This</title><content type='html'>For the past two and half years, I have been doing what I like to refer to as "field work." Some other people might prefer to call it, customer service. I was a recent college graduate who spent the summers creating memories, building friendships and strengthening bonds at summer camp, instead of getting my foot in the door through an internship. So when reality set in, I lacked the experience I needed on paper to get that face-to-face interview. I had a few interviews here and there, but mostly exploratory. So, I walked into the only place I would be able to walk to from my house and tolerate working at, a clothing store. The pickings were slim, fast-food restaurant, tanning salon, 7-11, so I picked the obvious choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have since come to regret that decision. I thought I was walking into a temporary, part-time position. Two and a half years later, I am a key-holding manager whose tolerance for people, if you can call some of our customer's that, is drastically declining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back and forth in my mind every day deciding whether or not I like my job. So when I was back on the "I am not tolerating this for a second longer" kick, someone very smart suggested starting a blog, so that is why I am here. I am looking for a place to rest my thoughts and re-tell the horrific stories of the people that I have to deal with in my profession of customer service. So my two and half years of "field experience" will hopefully pay off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I will leave you today with my absolute favorite story to date. Recently a customer came into our store carrying an old purse of ours, she had clearly been using it for a while. I checked on her on the floor to make sure she was finding everything she needed alright. She mentioned that she was looking for a small bag, I pointed her in the direction of where she might find them and without a real thanks she headed in that direction. She clearly missed that little life lesson of etiquette. Later I was at the register when she came up all set to buy a pair of pants and a belt, so I was about to ring her up when she said to me, "Oh and I wanted to return this," and she pointed to her purse. Dumbfounded, my response was, "The one that you are using?!?" She, without so much as a blink of the eye said yes. To keep with our company's policy, I asked if she had a receipt, I was absolutely certain the response would be a no and it would put an end to this nonsense. Oh no, she reached down into her clearly loved bag and pulled out a stack of receipts thicker than our catalogue and proceeded to point right to the correct receipt. To prolong this ridiculous request of hers I went to the back to check up the SKU on the receipt from October of 2005 to make sure it was correct, sure enough it was the correct receipt. By the time I had gotten back up there she had emptied out the contents of the bag she had been using for nearly six months. With the return we ended up owing her five cents, much to my dismay I put it back on discover card and sent her on her merry way. The moral of this story, at the store I work at you can gladly return something that you have obviously used for something more current as long as you have the receipt. Honestly, what in the world was this woman thinking, oh I'll just use the bag I want to return today and I hope they don't think it is weird when I dump out the contents of my bag on the counter and ask to return it?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this is just a starting point for my soapbox I like to call, "The customer is always right, except when their wrong."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23706651-114187834848087384?l=beccamatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/feeds/114187834848087384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=23706651&amp;postID=114187834848087384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114187834848087384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/23706651/posts/default/114187834848087384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccamatt.blogspot.com/2006/03/customer-service-this.html' title='Customer Service This'/><author><name>Becca</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16696103519332290787</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_udCrP0_eFHs/TLYhPLdiatI/AAAAAAAAAKE/libgAPv-SZI/S220/Picture+55.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
