<?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-6194076044160971616</id><updated>2012-02-15T17:01:34.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beke's Infamous Life</title><subtitle type='html'>Live Life: Experience It!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>191</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8529939493404127324</id><published>2012-02-14T17:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T17:55:48.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>I really do love Valentine's Day and I am convinced that I don't tell myself that to make myself feel better on this day.&amp;nbsp; Yes, I have dated some pretty lame guys, and by lame I mean jerks (and that is putting it mildly).&amp;nbsp; Still, I am not going to let their choices dictate how I feel about celebrating love and relationships!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't lie, I haven't always loved Valentine's Day and it is rare that I have a legit boyfriend on Valentine's Day (and even if I did, I'd hope he wouldn't need an excuse, such as a holiday, to do something nice/sweet for me).&amp;nbsp; Still, I have the most amazing family and friends who never fail to let me know that I am loved.&amp;nbsp; They never fail to get me delicious treats, stuffed animals, and/or chocolates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I was bummed out because I missed my class's Valentine's party due to being sick.&amp;nbsp; Still, when I returned back to work I had the some sweet Valentines sitting on my desk from my students.&amp;nbsp; Then, yesterday when I came home I had flowers waiting for me in my favorite vase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today,&amp;nbsp; Valentine's Day, one of my favorite students brought me a orange rose.&amp;nbsp; Orange is one of my favorite colors.&amp;nbsp; After work I got to go and WOD, which may be one of my favorite things ever.&amp;nbsp; Then, I got to end my evening with chocolate covered strawberries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, does life get any better?&amp;nbsp; Why, yes it does.&amp;nbsp; My four year old nephew asked me to be his Valentine and is taking me on a date this weekend.&amp;nbsp; I am super excited to get to spend some time with him.&amp;nbsp; He is a little stud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you don't need to have a "significant other" to love Valentine's Day.&amp;nbsp; I'm glad I am single on this holiday so I can more fully appreciate how much others love me instead on focusing on the commercial appeal of just trying to do something to prove my love to someone else.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoyed your Valentine's Day and focused on all the small things in life that let you know you are loved.&amp;nbsp; Also, I hope you took the opportunity to show those you love you love them by small acts of service.&amp;nbsp; When you look for the positive and take the time to do something nice for someone else, you can't help but to love life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8529939493404127324?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8529939493404127324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8529939493404127324' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8529939493404127324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8529939493404127324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2012/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-241083651795240102</id><published>2012-01-26T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T15:51:45.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am pretty sure...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that I am probably one of the worse drivers in the world.  If I had to pass the driving test again, I'd probably fail.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that I have the cutest Valentine in the world.  Will (my four-year-old nephew) asked me to be his Valentine today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that I have been having crazy dreams lately with uninvited visitors.&amp;nbsp; I may or may not end up hurting someone if this visitor keeps showing up in my dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that the Jackson Ward has the best Young Women ever.  I love them so much and I am so excited to work with them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that I have a love/hate relationship with my job.  I hate going to work everyday but I also don't like not going to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that I may give the worse advice ever.  So, if I ever give you advice you should probably do the opposite of what I tell you to do.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that I look like I've "let myself go" every day I don't put on make-up.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am pretty sure that I am completely happy with my life right now.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;That's all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-241083651795240102?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/241083651795240102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=241083651795240102' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/241083651795240102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/241083651795240102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-am-pretty-sure.html' title='I am pretty sure...'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8823595411202439333</id><published>2012-01-08T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T18:03:00.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm A...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;One of my more recent pet peeves is when people define themselves by their careers.&amp;nbsp; I really could care less what you do for a living.&amp;nbsp; It is crazy that in America when asked, "What do you do?" people automatically answer with their job description.&amp;nbsp; The crazy thing is we do so much more.&amp;nbsp; I am also annoyed that people define themselves by their jobs because it prevents me from getting to know that person as a person.&amp;nbsp; So, I am going to try my best to describe all the roles I play that contribute to who I am as a person without divulging too terribly much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a teacher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a daughter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt; I'm a sister.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm an aunt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a friend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a lifelong learner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a reader.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a baker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a dreamer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a stargazer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a hopeless romantic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a Mormon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a listener.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm an animal lover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a know-it-all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a napper.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a cuddler.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm an online shop-a-holic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a writer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a thinker.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a critic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a southerner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I'm a lover of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;All these roles I play in life really do contribute to who I am as a person, how I feel about various things, and why I form certain opinions.&amp;nbsp; However, if you just looked at me as a teacher, you would miss all the other things that help define who I am as a person.&amp;nbsp; Thus, be careful when you meet a new friend or your in a casual conversation.&amp;nbsp; Don't be afraid to share who you really are!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8823595411202439333?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8823595411202439333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8823595411202439333' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8823595411202439333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8823595411202439333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2012/01/im.html' title='I&apos;m A...'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4515494955760605101</id><published>2011-12-29T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T09:50:38.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I love Crossfit!</title><content type='html'>I have been doing Crossfit for almost three months and I am slightly addicted even though I stay sore (but it is a good and accomplished type of sore)!&amp;nbsp; I hate it when something in life comes up that makes me miss a WOD (workout of the day).&amp;nbsp; Here are some reasons why I love the "cult" called Crossfit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Skinny doesn't matter because "Strong is the new skinny."&lt;br /&gt;2) As soon as you begin you are accepted into the Crossfit family.&amp;nbsp; You always have a support system to push you along when you are ready to quit in the middle of a workout.&lt;br /&gt;3) It pushes you to your own personal limits and you see results as you beat your own personal records.&lt;br /&gt;4) You feel strong every time you lift weights!&lt;br /&gt;5) It increases your confidence...not only at the box (aka gym) but in every other aspect of life as well.&lt;br /&gt;6) Bacon is not considered a fat in the Crossfit diet!&lt;br /&gt;7) The workouts are always varying.&amp;nbsp; I never get board with them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;8)&amp;nbsp; I legitly hate the workouts when I am doing them.&amp;nbsp; However, after the workout I think "That sucked but it was so much fun!" I know that is an oxymoron.&lt;br /&gt;9) The ratio of trainers to clients is small.&amp;nbsp; Thus, when I go to workout I know the trainers will be able to give the attention I need without being overbearing to make sure I am doing the movements right.&lt;br /&gt;10) Every movement works more than one muscle.&amp;nbsp; Think about it, when you go to most other gyms you isolate each muscle when working out.&amp;nbsp; It saves time working out multiple muscles with one movement/exercise.&amp;nbsp; The movements/exercises are also natural movements.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0zlYn4FSNuk/TvyoFiD1-8I/AAAAAAAAAck/l7FTzB0h6PU/s1600/385946_294287083944142_140903562615829_781180_308721887_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0zlYn4FSNuk/TvyoFiD1-8I/AAAAAAAAAck/l7FTzB0h6PU/s320/385946_294287083944142_140903562615829_781180_308721887_n.jpg" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;During a WOD.&amp;nbsp; See the look of pain on my face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6l5mlMkIzUw/TvyoHbiJOCI/AAAAAAAAAcs/Xv1mSEbeyOo/s1600/389401_289300301109487_140903562615829_770783_103158460_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6l5mlMkIzUw/TvyoHbiJOCI/AAAAAAAAAcs/Xv1mSEbeyOo/s320/389401_289300301109487_140903562615829_770783_103158460_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What I look like after a WOD.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4515494955760605101?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4515494955760605101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4515494955760605101' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4515494955760605101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4515494955760605101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/12/why-i-love-crossfit.html' title='Why I love Crossfit!'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0zlYn4FSNuk/TvyoFiD1-8I/AAAAAAAAAck/l7FTzB0h6PU/s72-c/385946_294287083944142_140903562615829_781180_308721887_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6078909015627161727</id><published>2011-12-27T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T22:39:00.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Songs of the year...or maybe just the ramblings of a delusional me!</title><content type='html'>So, one of my old coworkers is posting his favorite songs of the year as his facebook statuses.&amp;nbsp; This made me think of my favorite songs.&amp;nbsp; I have put little thought into this blog...but if I had to choose my favorite songs for this year this would be my list in no particular order.&amp;nbsp; I've included the lyrics that make me love them or a short reason why I love them in parenthesis beside the song.&amp;nbsp; Try your best not to make fun of me as you read my list!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;b&gt;Train- "Marry Me" &lt;/b&gt;("Forever could never be long enough for me to feel like I've had long enough with you...")&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;b&gt; Ingrid Michaelson- "You and I"&lt;/b&gt; ("Maybe I think you're cute and funny or maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you." I am assuming she is talking about bunny kisses....)&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;b&gt;Chantal Kreviazuk- "Feels Like Home"&lt;/b&gt; (One day, Some day....maybe)&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;b&gt; Gavin Degraw- "Follow Through" &lt;/b&gt;(What isn't to love about any of Gavin's songs?)&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;b&gt;Disney- "He's a Tramp"&lt;/b&gt; (Story of my life!)&lt;br /&gt;6.&lt;b&gt; Garrett Hedlund (Country Strong Soundtrack)- "Give Into Me" (&lt;/b&gt;This is probably one of the hottest songs ever...I always have an inner dialogue when this song comes on.&amp;nbsp; Just so you can fully appreciate how this works I am going to show you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Song: I’m gonna wear you down&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Are you?&lt;br /&gt;Song: I’m gonna make you see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: How ya gonna do that?&lt;br /&gt;Song: I’m gonna get to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: You are?&lt;br /&gt;You’re gonna give into me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Hmmm....&lt;br /&gt;Song: I’m gonna start a fire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: How?&lt;br /&gt;You’re gonna feel the heat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: Am I now?&lt;br /&gt;Song: I’m gonna burn for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: You are?&lt;br /&gt;Song: You’re gonna melt for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: I am? &lt;/div&gt;7. &lt;b&gt;Whitney Duncan- "Skinny Dippin"&lt;/b&gt; (This song still reminds me of my Bear Lake camping trip when it was below freezing outside (long and funny story)...but the lake was so beautiful!)&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;b&gt;Taylor Swift-"Ours"&lt;/b&gt; (Life does make look hard...)&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;b&gt;Joshua Radin- "I'd Rather Be With You"&lt;/b&gt; ("I need to be bold, need to jump in the cold water, need to grow older with a girl like you....")&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;b&gt;Lady Antebellum- "Just a Kiss"&lt;/b&gt; (Reminds me of my road trip to Seattle...I must thank my driving partner for singing this with me the whole drive!)&lt;br /&gt;11.&lt;b&gt; Reliant K- "Getting Into You" &lt;/b&gt;("I'm getting into you because you got to me in a way words can't describe....")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...so, like I said it is late and I am somewhat delusional.&amp;nbsp; If my list changes tomorrow please forgive me for being fickle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6078909015627161727?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6078909015627161727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6078909015627161727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6078909015627161727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6078909015627161727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/12/songs-of-yearor-maybe-just-ramblings-of.html' title='Songs of the year...or maybe just the ramblings of a delusional me!'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1029603387455449471</id><published>2011-11-23T13:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T13:39:48.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>During this month of thanks I have pondered what I am most thankful for.&amp;nbsp; Many ideas popped into my head: family, religion, and freedom (the norms).&amp;nbsp; However, today I really do think I finally thought of the things I am most thankful for.&amp;nbsp; Ready....here they are: hope and potential.&amp;nbsp; They really do go together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am thankful for the potential I see for the uprising generation and the hope I have that they can reach their potential.&amp;nbsp; They can really become anyone they want to become and be anything they want to be.&amp;nbsp; This is important because so many children have so many things going against them but if we can help them realize they power they have to be great things will happen!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am thankful for the potential I see in myself and for the times I allow myself to hope.&amp;nbsp; This is tricky.&amp;nbsp; It is hard to hope for oneself because the future is so unpredictable.&amp;nbsp; However, I have seen myself progress in life as I have grown.&amp;nbsp; This growth allows me to hope.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I hope to improve my times at the gym, continue my education, become a better teacher, become a better family member, or one day have a family of my own.&amp;nbsp; Hoping can be scary...but I don't know if anything bad can come from just hoping.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am thankful for the potential I see in each of my family members and friends.&amp;nbsp; They are all so amazing and bring so much joy and laughter into my live.&amp;nbsp; It would be impossible not to hope for the best things for them in life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In closing, see the potential all around you and continue to hope for the best.&amp;nbsp; Things don't always go our way but I can't help but to feel that things happen the way they do for a reason.&amp;nbsp; We aren't always smart enough to figure out what the reason is...but I'd rather think that things don't go my way for a reason instead of thinking they don't go my way because I suck at life.&amp;nbsp; May you have a wonderful holiday season and see for world and people for what they may become.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1029603387455449471?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1029603387455449471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1029603387455449471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1029603387455449471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1029603387455449471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6985990049228493844</id><published>2011-11-06T15:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T15:14:17.598-08:00</updated><title type='text'>21 Suggestions for Success</title><content type='html'>I love this!&amp;nbsp; It is so true!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Marry the right person.  This one decision will determine 90% of your happiness or misery.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work at something you enjoy and that's worthy of your time and talent.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Become the most positive and enthusiastic person you know.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be forgiving of yourself and others.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be generous.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have a grateful heart.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Persistence, persistence, persistence.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Discipline yourself to save money on even the most modest salary.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Treat everyone you meet like you want to be treated.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Commit yourself to constant improvement.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Commit yourself to quality.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Understand that happiness is not based on possessions, power or prestige, but on relationships with people you love and respect.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be loyal.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be honest.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be a self-starter.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be decisive even if it means you'll sometimes be wrong.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stop blaming others.  Take responsibility for every area of your life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be bold and courageous.  When you look back on your life, you'll regret the things you didn't do more than the ones you did.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take good care of those you love.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't do anything that wouldn't make your Mom proud.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;H. Jackson Brown Jr. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6985990049228493844?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6985990049228493844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6985990049228493844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6985990049228493844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6985990049228493844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/11/21-suggestions-for-success.html' title='21 Suggestions for Success'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8206499690574238688</id><published>2011-10-27T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T14:41:54.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 30: What Changed This Month and What You Hope Will Happen Next Month</title><content type='html'>Welp...I started CrossFit this month and I absolutely love it!&amp;nbsp; It is hard not to be addicted to it.&amp;nbsp; I don't always want to go to my workouts but I never regret going.&amp;nbsp; I feel like my body has improved because of this program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have officially been teaching a month as well.&amp;nbsp; I still struggle with some things, but I am getting to where I need to be.&amp;nbsp; I have definitely grown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved my records out of my single's branch.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Looks like I am going to be going to family ward for a few months.&amp;nbsp; I may try to attend the branch more next summer when I am on break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8206499690574238688?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8206499690574238688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8206499690574238688' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8206499690574238688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8206499690574238688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-30-what-changed-this-month-and-what.html' title='Day 30: What Changed This Month and What You Hope Will Happen Next Month'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-3912645742177313087</id><published>2011-10-26T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T19:26:57.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 29: A Picture of Yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N9JdOLKNcUE/TqjBaLG92uI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/pnHPii7Kj2k/s1600/249876_2083287442655_1259188276_2475511_5702334_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N9JdOLKNcUE/TqjBaLG92uI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/pnHPii7Kj2k/s320/249876_2083287442655_1259188276_2475511_5702334_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-3912645742177313087?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/3912645742177313087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=3912645742177313087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3912645742177313087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3912645742177313087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-29-picture-of-yourself.html' title='Day 29: A Picture of Yourself'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N9JdOLKNcUE/TqjBaLG92uI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/pnHPii7Kj2k/s72-c/249876_2083287442655_1259188276_2475511_5702334_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-3471829777448858841</id><published>2011-10-25T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T16:12:51.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 28: The Month You Were Happiest This Year and Why</title><content type='html'>I could no sooner pick the sweetest smelling rose...Every month this year has had its perks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-3471829777448858841?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/3471829777448858841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=3471829777448858841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3471829777448858841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3471829777448858841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-28-month-you-were-happiest-this.html' title='Day 28: The Month You Were Happiest This Year and Why'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2424836322903828372</id><published>2011-10-24T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T19:31:35.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Quote I Love!</title><content type='html'>If you are a young man of appropriate age and are not married, don’t waste time in idle pursuits. Get on with life and focus on getting married. Don’t just coast through this period of life. Young men, serve a worthy mission. Then make your highest priority finding a worthy, eternal companion. When you find you are developing an interest in a young woman, &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;show&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt; her that you are an exceptional person that she would find interesting to know better. &lt;/b&gt;Take her to places that are worthwhile. &lt;b&gt;Show some ingenuity. &lt;/b&gt;If you want to have a wonderful wife, you need to have her see you as a wonderful man and prospective husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Richard G. Scott&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ha!&amp;nbsp; I love this quote.&amp;nbsp; I have been on a few dates in my life and it seems like the young man usually shows me how lame or incompetent he is.&amp;nbsp; I could tell a few stories about the unusual boys (I don't think I can even call them men) I have went out with in my life.&amp;nbsp; If he can even trick me into thinking he is interesting then I may become interested in him..and who wouldn't want me to be interested in them?&amp;nbsp; But then again..maybe I am too superficial...I like to think I don't expect more out a guy than I expect out of myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2424836322903828372?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2424836322903828372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2424836322903828372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2424836322903828372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2424836322903828372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/quote-i-love.html' title='A Quote I Love!'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-9188994055628563236</id><published>2011-10-24T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T14:32:46.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 27: Talk About Your Siblings</title><content type='html'>Renee':&amp;nbsp; Renee is the little mother.&amp;nbsp; She is the oldest of all us children and definitively has a nurturing quality about her.&amp;nbsp; She is also probably one of the most opinionated of my siblings.&amp;nbsp; If you need something taken care of, Renee can get it done!&amp;nbsp; I can also honestly say that Renee' is a hard worker and a great mother as well.&amp;nbsp; She has so many great characteristics that make her an exceptional person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike:&amp;nbsp; When I think of Mike I think of a level headed person.&amp;nbsp; He is really good at making business and financial decisions. This could come natural or it could be because of his secondary education.&amp;nbsp; Although I don't talk to Mike much, I know he loves his family.&amp;nbsp; I definitively believe family is important to him and that he would do anything for his siblings as long as they were doing the things they needed to be doing to help themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sandra: Sandra is the only person in my family who knows what it feels like to be me, meaning 27 and single.&amp;nbsp; She waited until she was 29 to get married and found the perfect person for her.&amp;nbsp; Sandra is kind and loving.&amp;nbsp; She can be very harshly honest and opinionated at times but I admire the fact that she isn't scared to tell you how she feels.&amp;nbsp; She really seems to be comfortable in her own skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James: I don't know if it is possible for someone not to like James.&amp;nbsp; He is such an easy going person.&amp;nbsp; I remember coveting his people skills when I was younger.&amp;nbsp; He is also very intelligent.&amp;nbsp; In high school he seemed to get all A's with little effort.&amp;nbsp; He is now in dental school and finishes next year.&amp;nbsp; Then, he will specialize.&amp;nbsp; He really is accomplished for his age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charity:&amp;nbsp; Charity is the baby of the family.&amp;nbsp; We love her and all seem to want to take care of her even though she is capable of taking care of herself.&amp;nbsp; She is a big optimist.&amp;nbsp; Like James, people are drawn to her smile and personality.&amp;nbsp; I love laughing and hanging out with Charity.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my siblings are great.&amp;nbsp; I feel like I can honestly say that my sisters are my best friends and I would rather hang out with them then lots of other people.&amp;nbsp; I also know that my brothers are some of the most amazing and caring men out there.&amp;nbsp; They all have very lucky spouses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-9188994055628563236?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/9188994055628563236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=9188994055628563236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9188994055628563236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9188994055628563236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-27-talk-about-your-siblings.html' title='Day 27: Talk About Your Siblings'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7989752602248986619</id><published>2011-10-23T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T16:06:53.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 26: Your Religious Beliefs</title><content type='html'>I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the only true church on the face of the Earth today.&amp;nbsp; We have a prophet living on the Earth who guides and directs us.&amp;nbsp; I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father and He knows and loves me.&amp;nbsp; This means I have a divine heritage. I know that Jesus Christ came to this Earth and atoned for my sins.&amp;nbsp; I love him so much for doing so.&amp;nbsp; Although he atoned for my sins, I still must live my best life...for it is by faith and works that we are saved. Jesus Christ lives!&amp;nbsp; He was resurrected. I believe that the family unit is essential.&amp;nbsp; Families can be together forever!&amp;nbsp; I know that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appeared to Joseph Smith and instructed him.&amp;nbsp; Because of this, the church was restored.&amp;nbsp; I know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God and should be studied as a companion to the Holy Bible.&amp;nbsp; When we study the teachings of our Savior we learn how to be like him and how to obtain true happiness.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful that I was taught these principals as a young lady and as I have grown older I have been given the opportunity to study them out so I can know for myself.&amp;nbsp; I do not believe these things because my family believes them or they are the only teachings I have been exposed to.&amp;nbsp; I have searched out other religions and studied them looking for the best in each.&amp;nbsp; I have questioned my own beliefs.&amp;nbsp; Through this process I gained a testimony and came to realize the truthfulness of these beliefs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7989752602248986619?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7989752602248986619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7989752602248986619' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7989752602248986619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7989752602248986619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-26-your-religious-beliefs.html' title='Day 26: Your Religious Beliefs'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5315151195835624357</id><published>2011-10-22T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T06:49:42.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 25: Ten Ways to Win Your Heart</title><content type='html'>1) Love my nieces and nephews&lt;br /&gt;2) Be honest with me...but not harsh&lt;br /&gt;3) Cuddle me&lt;br /&gt;4) Make me laugh&lt;br /&gt;5) Don't be scared to be goofy&lt;br /&gt;6) Just listen to me when I talk...even if I am being crazy&lt;br /&gt;7) Let me see you playing with kids&lt;br /&gt;8) Smile&lt;br /&gt;9) Be optimisitic&lt;br /&gt;10) Be sincere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5315151195835624357?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5315151195835624357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5315151195835624357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5315151195835624357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5315151195835624357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-25-ten-ways-to-win-your-heart.html' title='Day 25: Ten Ways to Win Your Heart'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6346032813887456941</id><published>2011-10-21T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T09:38:58.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 24: Weird Things You Do When You Are Alone</title><content type='html'>I am always doing weird things.&amp;nbsp; Here are probably two of the weirdest things I do when I am alone:&lt;br /&gt;1) Look in the mirror and alternate between sucking in my gut and sticking it out while saying, "Skinny Becky, Fat Becky."&lt;br /&gt;2) If I am alone chances are I am not wearing clothes...TMI I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6346032813887456941?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6346032813887456941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6346032813887456941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6346032813887456941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6346032813887456941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-24-weird-things-you-do-when-you-are.html' title='Day 24: Weird Things You Do When You Are Alone'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1636727656494364760</id><published>2011-10-20T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T10:00:09.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 23: Something You Wonder "What If" About</title><content type='html'>Oh the things I wonder "What if?" about!&lt;br /&gt;1) What if I would have went to BYU-Idaho right out of high school?&amp;nbsp; I would have probably missed out on a lot of experiences I had as a paramedic and may not even be a teacher now...but I wonder what would have happened and what I would be doing with my life now if I would have just went.&lt;br /&gt;2) What if I would have went to med school?&amp;nbsp; I miss the medical profession a lot and know I could have been a wonderful physician.&amp;nbsp; However, I would not have grown and learned the things I learned as I have progressed to become an educator.&lt;br /&gt;3)What if I would have asked a boy out or if a boy would have liked me in return?&amp;nbsp; I wonder about past relationships and almost relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1636727656494364760?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1636727656494364760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1636727656494364760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1636727656494364760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1636727656494364760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-23-something-you-wonder-what-if.html' title='Day 23: Something You Wonder &quot;What If&quot; About'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2531426526614806720</id><published>2011-10-19T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T18:09:52.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 22:  Ten Things About You People Dont' Expect</title><content type='html'>1) I'm can be extremely bold&amp;nbsp; or extremely shy depending on if I care what your opinion of me is.&amp;nbsp; Generally, I am shy at first and become more "me" the more comfortable I am around you.&lt;br /&gt;2) I really don't enjoy eating meat that much.&amp;nbsp; It's not that I am a vegetarian but I prefer fruits, vegetables, and breads when I eat.&lt;br /&gt;3) I feel like I am still discovering who I am.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I wonder if I have let others mold me into who I am because I have such a strong desire to be liked and to please other people.&lt;br /&gt;4) I am picky when it comes to choosing boys for me to like...but when I am secure in a relationship I fall way to fast.&lt;br /&gt;5) I feel guilty when I am not productive.&lt;br /&gt;6) I hate being alone (even sleeping alone) and don't think I could ever live by myself.&amp;nbsp; I would be scared the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;7) I am not a risk taker at all.&amp;nbsp; I won't even let myself try to be someone's friend if I don't think they will return the gesture.&amp;nbsp; This could be because of my insecurities.&lt;br /&gt;8) I will bridge jump and do other crazy things...but I don't think I would do them if I weren't trying to impress someone.&lt;br /&gt;9) I wonder if I am really a "country girl" even though I was born and raised in the country.&lt;br /&gt;10) One of my top fears is rejection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2531426526614806720?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2531426526614806720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2531426526614806720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2531426526614806720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2531426526614806720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-22-ten-things-about-you-people-dont.html' title='Day 22:  Ten Things About You People Dont&apos; Expect'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7813357713806305809</id><published>2011-10-18T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T09:48:21.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 21: Something You Can't Seem To Get Over</title><content type='html'>This is a hard one.&amp;nbsp; I think there are a lot of things that "I can't seem to get over" but I put on a strong face and act like they don't bother me much at all by joking around and laughing about the things.&amp;nbsp; I want to make the best out of life and I know dwelling on things can drag me down.&amp;nbsp; I think the hardest things for me to get over are the "What ifs?" in life.&amp;nbsp; I haven't always make the best choices in my past and I wonder how my life would be different if I had made different choices.&amp;nbsp; But...if I dwell on the past I will miss out on the present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7813357713806305809?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7813357713806305809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7813357713806305809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7813357713806305809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7813357713806305809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-21-something-you-cant-seem-to-get.html' title='Day 21: Something You Can&apos;t Seem To Get Over'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-9219458480794081473</id><published>2011-10-17T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T14:09:32.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 20: The Last Argument You Had</title><content type='html'>It is best to forgive and forget...so I try to forget arguments I have had and move on with my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-9219458480794081473?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/9219458480794081473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=9219458480794081473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9219458480794081473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9219458480794081473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-20-last-argument-you-had.html' title='Day 20: The Last Argument You Had'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8203572063163521568</id><published>2011-10-16T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T11:29:31.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 18: Disrespecting Parents</title><content type='html'>I got a little out of order...evidently I can't count.&amp;nbsp; Anyways I am backtracking to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is tacky to disrespect one's parents.&amp;nbsp; It isn't worth it.&amp;nbsp; Love em and agree to disagree with them...but don't disrespect them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8203572063163521568?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8203572063163521568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8203572063163521568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8203572063163521568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8203572063163521568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-got-little-out-of-order.html' title='Day 18: Disrespecting Parents'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-9074957491257085165</id><published>2011-10-14T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T19:43:44.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 19: Something That Never Fails to Make You Feel Better</title><content type='html'>I know I am blogging Day 18 a few hours early...but I am bored.&amp;nbsp; Forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;Is there just one thing that can make someone feel better?&amp;nbsp; Here is my 5 step remedy to days that convince you that live sucks:&lt;br /&gt;1) Call up a close friend and talk.&lt;br /&gt;2) Meet up with that friend and eat Ben and Jerry's (Phish Food) and drink Red Bulls and complain about how other people suck and discuss how amazing I am.&amp;nbsp; We also laugh a lot during this conversation as we turn the irritating situation into a joke.&lt;br /&gt;3) If the issue is caused by a boy...find another boy to randomly hook up (ncmo) with...or at least getting some kind of physical affection...even if it is just cuddling with one of my guy friends (Is this messed up?)&lt;br /&gt;4) Because I begin to feel guilty about eating so much food, I go to the gym and exercise out my frustration.&lt;br /&gt;5) By this time I have forgotten why I was down and can get back to normal life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-9074957491257085165?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/9074957491257085165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=9074957491257085165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9074957491257085165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9074957491257085165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-19-something-that-never-fails-to.html' title='Day 19: Something That Never Fails to Make You Feel Better'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2056449726513642988</id><published>2011-10-14T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T15:39:51.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 17: Things That Make You Scared</title><content type='html'>1) The Unknown:&amp;nbsp; The unknown is so scary.&amp;nbsp; I never pictured my life turning out the way it has.&amp;nbsp; Don't get me wrong...I like life but there are some things in life I would like to happen to me that just haven't happened to/for me yet.&amp;nbsp; Hopefully the things I want to happen will happen one day but if they don't, I will just keep on living every day to the fullest and taking advantage of everything I do have.&lt;br /&gt;2) Snakes: The creepy and crawly!&amp;nbsp; I don't care to get close enough to one to see if it is poisonous.&amp;nbsp; Just the thought of a snake makes me cringe.&lt;br /&gt;3) Creeping Obesity:&amp;nbsp; I remember a poster from my high school wellness class of a woman who gained a little weight each year.&amp;nbsp; She got bigger and bigger and...well you get the picture.&amp;nbsp; I want to be healthy and I often associate size with health. (Yes, I know this is superficial.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2056449726513642988?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2056449726513642988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2056449726513642988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2056449726513642988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2056449726513642988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-17-things-that-make-you-scared.html' title='Day 17: Things That Make You Scared'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1702326426005753633</id><published>2011-10-13T19:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T19:03:29.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 16: Three Things You Are Proud About Your Personality</title><content type='html'>1. I'm determined&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm caring&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm try not to complain...much&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1702326426005753633?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1702326426005753633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1702326426005753633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1702326426005753633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1702326426005753633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-16-three-things-you-are-proud-about.html' title='Day 16: Three Things You Are Proud About Your Personality'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4973384165586110156</id><published>2011-10-12T15:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T15:45:24.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 15: The Best Thing That Happened to You This Week</title><content type='html'>My 15 month old nephew giving me loves and ignoring everyone else who wanted his attention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4973384165586110156?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4973384165586110156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4973384165586110156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4973384165586110156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4973384165586110156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-15-best-thing-that-happened-to-you.html' title='Day 15: The Best Thing That Happened to You This Week'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-3630122308948837040</id><published>2011-10-11T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T16:07:05.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 14: Something Disgusting to You</title><content type='html'>Here are the ones that I think are most common among society&lt;br /&gt;1) Dirty dishes (I lived with people who delayed doing dishes...I even had one roommate who would let food rot and mold in her room on it's plate in it's bowl.)&lt;br /&gt;2) A dirty house (Seriously...clean up after yourself...it doesn't have to be spotless but keep it together.)&lt;br /&gt;3) Smoking, drinking, and drugs (enough said)&lt;br /&gt;4) Not taking care of yourself (e.g. poor hygiene)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could probably think of a few more...but I don't want to sound like a pessimist.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-3630122308948837040?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/3630122308948837040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=3630122308948837040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3630122308948837040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3630122308948837040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-14-something-disgusting-to-you.html' title='Day 14: Something Disgusting to You'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7663585238105396790</id><published>2011-10-10T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T19:00:25.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 13: A Date You Would Love To Go On</title><content type='html'>This is a hard one.&amp;nbsp; Are we talking about first dates or a date with someone you have been dating for a little while?&amp;nbsp; My favorite dates are the ones where you really get to know the person you are with better.&amp;nbsp; Just the other day I was walking in at Cyprus Grove, a nature park, and thought what an amazing date it would be just to walk and talk there.&amp;nbsp; However, if I had been dating someone for a while I think camping out together would be an ideal date.&amp;nbsp; I would get to see that person in a different light and dating is about getting to know the other person better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7663585238105396790?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7663585238105396790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7663585238105396790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7663585238105396790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7663585238105396790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-13-date-you-would-love-to-go-on.html' title='Day 13: A Date You Would Love To Go On'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2238379856735802635</id><published>2011-10-08T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T11:24:18.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 12: Things You Want to Say to an Ex</title><content type='html'>1) I don't hate you...so please don't think I do.&amp;nbsp; Even though I think about you often and would love to have contact with you, I choose not to because I don't want to have to stop talking to you again when another wonderful man enters my life ( I feel like this is just a part of respecting him...even if he turns into an ex as well :)&lt;br /&gt;2) Thank you for helping me improve myself.&amp;nbsp; I know that you helped me realize aspects of my life I can make better and pushed me to improve.&lt;br /&gt;3) Thanks for not letting our relationship progress.&amp;nbsp; As I am sure you have already figured out I am probably the best girl you will ever even meet and get the privilege to date.&amp;nbsp; You lost out.&amp;nbsp; However, I know that their are guys better than you out there.&amp;nbsp; I am glad I didn't settle.&amp;nbsp; But none-the-less I hope you meet someone to share your happily ever after with...you will just have to be taunted by the fact she isn't as amazing as me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally...I will leave you with a song&lt;span id="goog_212093799"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_212093800"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/PstrAfoMKlc/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PstrAfoMKlc&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PstrAfoMKlc&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2238379856735802635?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2238379856735802635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2238379856735802635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2238379856735802635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2238379856735802635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-12-things-you-want-to-say-to-ex.html' title='Day 12: Things You Want to Say to an Ex'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2048326579042466592</id><published>2011-10-08T08:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T09:06:04.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11: Your Current Relationship (or for all the losers out there talk about how being single is)</title><content type='html'>Welp...I am one of those losers who gets to discuss how being single is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me being single is bittersweet.&amp;nbsp; Because I am single I have all the time in the world to do what I want to do.&amp;nbsp; This is nice...except when I don't know what I want to do and feel guilty for being idle.&amp;nbsp; Then I wish I had somebody to do something with because I have a hard time motivating myself.&amp;nbsp; However, it is nice because I really have the time to get to know myself and evaluate where I am in life and the more I evaluate the more I realize why I am single.&amp;nbsp; I am emotionally closed off to people (I have trust issues in relationships...dating a cheater will do that to you, I have communication issues, and I have to become more self reliant.)&amp;nbsp; I really do believe that I am single for a reason and that reason is to find ways to improve myself and I continue to get to know myself.&amp;nbsp; So yes, I'll admit I wish I had a someone to cuddle up to at during movies and at night and I REALLY miss kissing (I must admit I think I am pretty good at cuddling and kissing).&amp;nbsp; But, I am learning to be okay without those things and embrace becoming the woman I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2048326579042466592?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2048326579042466592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2048326579042466592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2048326579042466592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2048326579042466592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-11-your-current-relationship-or-for.html' title='Day 11: Your Current Relationship (or for all the losers out there talk about how being single is)'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-3041453923987764552</id><published>2011-10-07T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T19:04:15.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10: Your View on Drugs and Alcohol</title><content type='html'>Don't do it!!!&amp;nbsp; I don't understand why anyone would want to alter their mental state on purpose.&amp;nbsp; It is just ignorant.&amp;nbsp; People seem to always do things they regret when under the influence of these chemicals.&amp;nbsp; While I am at it...Tobacco is Toxic as well.&amp;nbsp; Treat your body well it will do the same thing to you.&amp;nbsp; You don't need various chemicals to make you happy.&amp;nbsp; All you have to do is live your life to the fullest.&amp;nbsp; That's what I do...live the dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-3041453923987764552?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/3041453923987764552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=3041453923987764552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3041453923987764552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3041453923987764552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-10-your-view-on-drugs-and-alcohol.html' title='Day 10: Your View on Drugs and Alcohol'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4885459014032145077</id><published>2011-10-06T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T15:00:55.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9: Your Last Kiss</title><content type='html'>Define kiss.&amp;nbsp; In another words, what type of kiss are we talking about?&amp;nbsp; My nieces and nephews give me lots of innocent kisses when I am around them.&amp;nbsp; However, something tells me that I should make this &lt;i&gt;somewhat &lt;/i&gt;(you're not going to get much more out of me) more interesting than telling you about slobbery kisses from one-year-olds.&amp;nbsp; So, here we go (Well here is one I will fess up to anyways...I don't want anyone thinking I am a lip slut. Just remember there is a difference between being a lip slut and being easy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would say my last kiss was in my car in Rexburg.&amp;nbsp; I was with a old "friend" (I am still unsure if we were just make-out buddies or dating...that shows what a bad communicator I am...but that is a whole different story.) and we had decided it was best not to be friends just a week earlier.&amp;nbsp; Anyways, I went to Rexburg to see another friend and of course ended up seeing this kid.&amp;nbsp; We had a fun weekend and of course ended up kissing more than we probably should have.&amp;nbsp; To make a long story short on my way back to Boise we decided not to be friends anymore and then I hit a dog on the interstate. &amp;nbsp; Life sucks sometimes but the important thing is that my life rocks right now...even if I haven't kissed a boy in a few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4885459014032145077?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4885459014032145077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4885459014032145077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4885459014032145077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4885459014032145077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-nine-your-last-kiss.html' title='Day 9: Your Last Kiss'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5474803640291118506</id><published>2011-10-05T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T14:53:07.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8: Something You are Currently Worrying About</title><content type='html'>I have been teaching for almost three weeks now.&amp;nbsp; My biggest worry is that I am an inadequate teacher.&amp;nbsp; The students I am working with are a totally different breed than the ones I worked with while I was in school.&amp;nbsp; I feel like my classroom management is lacking and my lessons are missing something.&amp;nbsp; I want to do so much for my students and really have them ready to move on to third grade next year but it is hard when they have little support outside of the school.&amp;nbsp; Then I worry about their home lives.&amp;nbsp; I care about them a lot and want to make sure that they are being taken care of.&amp;nbsp; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5474803640291118506?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5474803640291118506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5474803640291118506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5474803640291118506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5474803640291118506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-8-something-you-are-currently.html' title='Day 8: Something You are Currently Worrying About'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4718699265463169564</id><published>2011-10-04T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T15:48:34.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7: Your Opinion on Cheating People</title><content type='html'>Oh the things I could say for this one...&lt;br /&gt;As far as people that cheat in relationships: You're selfish and should probably grow up&lt;br /&gt;As far as people cheating in school: Your grade won't help you in the "real world" after graduation&lt;br /&gt;As far as people who cheat others by being unfair: What comes around goes around &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4718699265463169564?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4718699265463169564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4718699265463169564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4718699265463169564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4718699265463169564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-7-your-opinion-on-cheating-people.html' title='Day 7: Your Opinion on Cheating People'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7781997800912283560</id><published>2011-10-03T19:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T19:19:39.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Six: The Person You Like and Why You Like Them</title><content type='html'>Does this mean someone I have a crush on? Simply because, I currently do not have a crush on anyone. But there are some people in my life I like a lot! Here is my list:&lt;br /&gt;My family:&lt;br /&gt;They are painfully honest with me which irritates the crap out of me but I love them for being willing to risk hurting my feelings to help me become a better person.&amp;nbsp; It is also reassuring to know that they will always be there for me...regardless of what stupid things I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Friends From School:&lt;br /&gt;I miss my little group of friends.&amp;nbsp; I miss our movie nights and I miss cuddling with them as we star gazed on the dock at Beaver Dick. They didn't judge me when I was super awkward and they can make me laugh on my worst days.&amp;nbsp; I truly do love these friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7781997800912283560?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7781997800912283560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7781997800912283560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7781997800912283560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7781997800912283560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-six-person-you-like-and-why-you.html' title='Day Six: The Person You Like and Why You Like Them'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8200322717054870</id><published>2011-10-02T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T11:33:20.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5: Five Things That Irritate You About The Opposite Sex</title><content type='html'>Why think of the negative?&amp;nbsp; Besides...the opposite sex hasn't annoyed me lately...maybe this is a post that should be blogged about after a guy upsets me over something so miniscule it won't matter in a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8200322717054870?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8200322717054870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8200322717054870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8200322717054870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8200322717054870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-5-five-things-that-irritate-you.html' title='Day 5: Five Things That Irritate You About The Opposite Sex'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-17728364063187056</id><published>2011-10-01T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T16:05:46.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4: What you wear to bed</title><content type='html'>Ha!&amp;nbsp; Wouldn't you like to know....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-17728364063187056?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/17728364063187056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=17728364063187056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/17728364063187056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/17728364063187056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-4-what-you-wear-to-bed.html' title='Day 4: What you wear to bed'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-201856988761526984</id><published>2011-09-30T14:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T14:58:33.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3: What Kind of Person Attracts You?</title><content type='html'>I may be boy crazy but I am also pretty picky.&amp;nbsp; Its not that I can't admire a nice looking man.&amp;nbsp; I watched THOR the other night and really enjoyed the scene when he has not shirt on.&amp;nbsp; (A must see for any lady who can appreciate a beautiful body.)&amp;nbsp; However, when it comes down to it, I only look unless the terribly attractive guy has these characteristics:&lt;br /&gt;1) I know it probably doesn't have to be said but I am saying it...most importantly our religious believes have to mesh.&amp;nbsp; He needs to be a strong and faithful member of my church. &lt;br /&gt;2) SMART!&amp;nbsp; I don't want to spend the rest of my life with someone I am incapable of having an intelligent conversation with.&lt;br /&gt;3) SUCCESSFUL!&amp;nbsp; Okay...so maybe he isn't finished with college yet or maybe he has been working for years.&amp;nbsp; What ever the case I need to know that he has drive and motivation.&amp;nbsp; He has to want to continuously improve himself.&amp;nbsp; Still...I don't care if he is is college or done with school he must (and I do mean must) have a JOB!&lt;br /&gt;4) HEALTHY! (but not a health nut please) So maybe when I am interested in a guy I automatically check out his veins and his neck (to see if he would more than likely be an easy intubation).&amp;nbsp; You never know if he will need a quick IV or an E.T. tube.&amp;nbsp; Then, I wonder about his family's medical history.&amp;nbsp; I don't want lots of hereditary diseases to possible be passed on to my children.&amp;nbsp; Call me crazy but I call it natural selection.&lt;br /&gt;5)&amp;nbsp; FUNNY!&amp;nbsp; If I am going to be possibly spending a lot of time with a guy I need to know that he can make me laugh.&amp;nbsp; Hopefully if he can I won't be able to stay mad at him for too terribly long.&lt;br /&gt;6) EAGLE SCOUT!&amp;nbsp; So, I don't know why the thought of an Eagle Scout is so attractive.&amp;nbsp; Maybe it is because I associate it with being able to do things.&lt;br /&gt; 7) A HANDY MAN! (but with clean nails and smooth hands please)&amp;nbsp; I am not attracted to blue collar workers as far as long term relationships go.&amp;nbsp; But, if I can find a white collar worker who is not afraid to use "blue collar" skills around the house (and knows what he is doing) I find it terribly sexy.&lt;br /&gt;8) GOOD WITH KIDS!&amp;nbsp; I'll admit it...I want to be a mom one day.&amp;nbsp; Thus, I am attracted to guys who can have fun with kids and also take care of them.&amp;nbsp; I don't want my children to have slacker as a father. &lt;br /&gt;9) ATTRACTIVE!&amp;nbsp; Does he have to be THOR...nah (not that I wouldn't love that)&amp;nbsp; But I do have to find him attractive. (Plus...if I have kids one day I want them to be the most attractive kids around.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we know why I am still single.&amp;nbsp; Have a great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-201856988761526984?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/201856988761526984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=201856988761526984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/201856988761526984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/201856988761526984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/09/day-3-what-kind-of-person-attracts-you.html' title='Day 3: What Kind of Person Attracts You?'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7938566384391392781</id><published>2011-09-29T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T15:58:19.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: How You Have Changed in the Past Two Years</title><content type='html'>Maybe the question should be how haven't I changed (i.e. I grew up and discovered myself).&amp;nbsp; Enough said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7938566384391392781?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7938566384391392781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7938566384391392781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7938566384391392781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7938566384391392781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/09/day-2-how-you-have-changed-in-past-two.html' title='Day 2: How You Have Changed in the Past Two Years'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1309167260412261127</id><published>2011-09-28T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T18:54:27.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: Things You Want to Say to Five People</title><content type='html'>I like to think that I usually say what I mean and mean what I say.&amp;nbsp; When I don't say something I usually have a pretty good reason for not saying it. Actually, does fear count as a "good" reason?&amp;nbsp; I can't pick every member of my family (because I come from a gigantic family) or else I would.&amp;nbsp; With that being said, here I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Mom&lt;/div&gt;I am pretty sure I have the best mom in the world.&amp;nbsp; Somehow she manages to drive me crazy and still be one of my best friends.&amp;nbsp; I think that is what moms are supposed to do.&amp;nbsp; Mom has always been there for me even when I am crazy.&amp;nbsp; Believe me, I can be pretty crazy!&amp;nbsp; So here is what I have to say to my mom:&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom,&lt;br /&gt;The suspicions are true: I get all of my crazy from you.&amp;nbsp; You really are crazy, but it is a good crazy.&amp;nbsp; You are an amazing woman and have provided me with a great example of the type of person I have the potential to become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ginny, My Niece&lt;/div&gt;Just to make it clear, I am not playing favorites with my nieces or nephews.&amp;nbsp; Ginny is the oldest one so she immediently came to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;Dear Ginny,&lt;br /&gt;Remember who you are and who you want to become!&amp;nbsp; Never loose sight of your dreams.&amp;nbsp; They really can come true...we just have to work a little for them.&amp;nbsp; You shine so brightly.&amp;nbsp; Never trade in your luster for things that can only make you happy temporarily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;President Obama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Dear Mr. President,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I don't really understand politics but I hear you are messing up our country.&amp;nbsp; Please stop and fix any problems you have caused.&amp;nbsp; You may also choose to fix problems caused by former presidents.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Random Teacher at BYU-I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When I had too many credits to get into the nursing program I went to see my academic adviser.&amp;nbsp; I forgot her name.&amp;nbsp; Anyways, we prayed together and she encouraged me to continue praying&amp;nbsp; to seek an answer for the academic path I should pursue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Dear Random Teacher,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Remember when you made me pray about a career and I got an answer I didn't want to hear?&amp;nbsp; Well, I listened and now I am a teacher.&amp;nbsp; I am still trying to figure out why I am a teacher and think it may be one of the hardest careers out there and lowest paid, not that I am bitter. Just wanted to let you know how things turned out for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myself&lt;/div&gt;Is it vain that I want to say something to myself?&amp;nbsp; Maybe typing to myself makes me somewhat schizophrenic.&lt;br /&gt;Dear Me,&lt;br /&gt;Keep calm and carry on.&amp;nbsp; One day you will get it all done...maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1309167260412261127?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1309167260412261127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1309167260412261127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1309167260412261127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1309167260412261127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/09/day-1-things-you-want-to-say-to-five.html' title='Day 1: Things You Want to Say to Five People'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1007512885043796796</id><published>2011-09-28T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T18:29:10.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Day Challenge</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;My friend, Danielle did this challenge and I found it quite fascinating.&amp;nbsp; Then I wondered if I could actually do it and keep up.&amp;nbsp; There is only one way to find out!&amp;nbsp; So here we go.&amp;nbsp; Let the blogging begin!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin: 4px 0px 0px;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;30 Day Challenge&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin: 4px 0px 0px;"&gt;1. things you want to say to five different people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;2. how have you changed in the past two years?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;3. what kinda person attracts you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;4. what you wear to bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;5. five things that irritate you about the opposite sex/same sex.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;6. the person you like and why you like them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;7. your opinion on cheating on people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;8. something you’re currently worrying about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;9. your last kiss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;10. your view on drugs and alcohol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;11. your current relationship, if single discuss how being single is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;12. things you want to say to an ex.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;13. a date you would love to go on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;14. something disgusting you do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;15. the best thing to happen to you this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;16. three things you are proud about your personality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;17. things that make you scared.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;18. disrespecting parents.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;19. something that never fails to make you feel better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;20. the last argument you had.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;21. something you can’t seem to get over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;22. ten things about you people don’t really expect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;23. something you always think “what if..” about&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;24. weird things you do when you’re alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;25. ten ways to win your heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;26. your religious beliefs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;27. talk about your siblings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;28. the month you were happiest this year and why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;29. a picture of yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #584e4e; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;30. what changed this month and what you hope will happen next month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1007512885043796796?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1007512885043796796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1007512885043796796' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1007512885043796796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1007512885043796796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/09/30-day-challenge.html' title='30 Day Challenge'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7226858610925047765</id><published>2011-09-26T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T18:53:00.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Past Week</title><content type='html'>Well, I FINALLY got a job!  I am so excited about this job because it is ideal for me.  This is my first year teaching and I am team teaching with great teacher.  We have 24 second graders.  It is definitely a challenge and I often wonder leave work wondering what I was thinking when I choose to become a teacher.  Then I remember how much I love those stinking kids already even if I do struggle with classroom management at times.  The kids naturally want to talk and let's be honest some subjects are just boring no matter how hard you try to make them interesting.  I think I make at least 2-3 kids cry a day when I redirect them.  No, I am not mean; they are just sensitive.  I have already learned a lot this past week though.  I think I am growing as a teacher.  Just imagine how good I will be in 10 years!  The most important thing I have learned this week is to smile and laugh whenever I can.  I know that if I work hard that all my hard work will pay off.  One of my teachers gave me a star I keep in my desk to go along with this poem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Star Polisher&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have a great job in the universe of occupations. What do I do? I'm a "star polisher."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's a very important job. If you want to know how important my job is, just go out at night and look at the stars twinkling and sparkling.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You see, I'm a teacher. The stars are the children in my class. My job is to take them in - in whatever shape they come - and shine and buff them and then send them out to take their places as bright little twinkling beacons in the sky.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They come into my room in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes they're bent, tarnished, dirty, crinkly and broken. Some stars are cuddly, soft and sweet. Some stars are prickly and thorny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;As I buff, polish, train and teach my little stars, I tell them that the world cannot do without them. I tell them they can do anything they set their minds to do. I tell them they can be the brightest, shiniest stars in the sky and the world will be a better place because of them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Each night as I look at the sky, I'm reminded of my very important job and awesome responsibility. I go and get my soft buffing cloth and my bottle of polish in preparation for tomorrow and for my class of little stars.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;By Leah Becks&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This poem really does help me get through the day.&amp;nbsp; I love the kids a ton!&amp;nbsp; They are all so beautiful and amazing!&amp;nbsp; I truly am excited to see how much more I grow over the next year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7226858610925047765?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7226858610925047765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7226858610925047765' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7226858610925047765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7226858610925047765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/09/past-week.html' title='The Past Week'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7990698248675214611</id><published>2011-09-10T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T23:18:58.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Ten Years Taught Me...9/11</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow marks the ten year anniversary of a day that changed America, September 11, 2001.&amp;nbsp; It is hard to believe it has been ten years.&amp;nbsp; I still remember sitting in the library at South Side High School my senior year and working on a magazine drive.&amp;nbsp; One of my fellow students came in the room and told us that the Twin Towers had just been struck by a plane.&amp;nbsp; At the time, I didn't understand the significance of this event.&amp;nbsp; It took a while for me to realize the importance of that morning.&amp;nbsp; Our wonderful country had just been struck.&amp;nbsp; I don't think I had ever known anything about other than peace and prosperity in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I was bitter and angry after the attack on America.&amp;nbsp; I suddenly became prejudice.&amp;nbsp; It was difficult to not be nervous or suspicious around people of various races.&amp;nbsp; Television was filled with footage of 9/11 and rumors of other conspiracies ran rapid.&amp;nbsp; The country seemed to always be on terror alert, rather it was high or low.&amp;nbsp; My life was surely forever changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started EMT/Paramedic school in the fall of 2002, just one year after the attack.&amp;nbsp; It was at that time I started to associate with some of the most amazing people.&amp;nbsp; They were EMT's, Paramedics, and Firefighters.&amp;nbsp; These people helped me further gain an appreciation for the efforts so many brave men and women put forth on 9/11 and for the following days.&amp;nbsp; I learned how it felt for people to really rely on you and the service you could offer them.&amp;nbsp; When people are in trouble, they often call 911.&amp;nbsp; I got to be the person to respond.&amp;nbsp; It was not hard to imagine how the brave men and women that responded to the attack on 9/11 felt as me and my co-workers rushed to each call.&amp;nbsp; I learned the importance of my fellowman, the service they offer, and the service I can offer others, even if it is as simple as smiling at everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also gained an appreciation of human life.&amp;nbsp; Not just the lives of others, but my own life.&amp;nbsp; I learned that I must make the most of everyday.&amp;nbsp; I am still working on this one.&amp;nbsp; Life is full of surprises and there is no way to predict what it has in store for us or our loved us.&amp;nbsp; Thus, appreciate each and every day.&amp;nbsp; Live your life to the fullest.&amp;nbsp; Love yourself.&amp;nbsp; Let others know you appreciate them and love them.&amp;nbsp; Be grateful.&amp;nbsp; Finally, be your best self, even when it is hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, know what you stand for and why you stand for it.&amp;nbsp; It is difficult to believe that the people who can vote this year were only eight years old when the Twin Towers were struck.&amp;nbsp; They may not remember the horror Americans felt on that day.&amp;nbsp; They may only vaguely remember the attack.&amp;nbsp; Don't stand for something because others stand for it.&amp;nbsp; Stand for something because you have questioned it and researched it.&amp;nbsp; Stand for something because it is part of who you are, not who others want you to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully we will all take a moment tomorrow and remember.&amp;nbsp; Remember what it means to be an American.&amp;nbsp; Remember the brave efforts of those who gave their lives to help others ten years ago.&amp;nbsp; Remember the families who lost loved ones ten years ago.&amp;nbsp; Remember the soldiers who have and will continue to fight for our freedom.&amp;nbsp; Remember how fragile life is.&amp;nbsp; And most of all, remember to be grateful for everything good life has to offer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7990698248675214611?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7990698248675214611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7990698248675214611' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7990698248675214611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7990698248675214611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/09/what-ten-years-taught-me911.html' title='What Ten Years Taught Me...9/11'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8077874860558212415</id><published>2011-09-06T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T07:57:24.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Mouth of Bob Marely</title><content type='html'>Evidently the great singer had more to tell us then, "Don't worry, Be happy."&amp;nbsp; This is a quote I found on one of my new favorite websites (www.pininterst.com) that I absolutely love.&amp;nbsp; So here we go, from the mouth of the one and only Bob Marley:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He's not perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You're not either,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and the two of you will never be perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But, if he can make you laugh at least once,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Causes you to think twice,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and if he admits to being human and making mistakes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hold on to him and give him the most you can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He isn't going to quote poetry,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He isn't thinking about you every moment,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't hurt him,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't change him,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And don't expect more than he can give.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't analyze.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile when he makes you happy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yell when he makes you mad,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And miss him when he's not there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love hard when there is love to be had.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Because perfect guys don't exist,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But there's always one guy that is perfect for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;-Bob Marley&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8077874860558212415?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8077874860558212415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8077874860558212415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8077874860558212415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8077874860558212415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/09/from-mouth-of-bob-marely.html' title='From the Mouth of Bob Marely'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2168456625753333202</id><published>2011-08-30T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T13:27:30.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I love life</title><content type='html'>I love my family and life (90% of the time).  Here are a few reasons why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I gave a talk in sacrament meeting on Sunday.  When I got home my mom told me that my grandfather, who is of a different faith, told her that he heard I was preaching today.&lt;br /&gt;2. I sleep in a moo moo a lot of times.  My little sister and I joke about how so many people in the south wear them.  She said, "Moo Moo's are more than just a piece of clothing, they are an attitude/way of life."  I loved that!  Then while driving home this &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;afternoon&lt;/span&gt; I saw a lady walking around outside in just her moo moo.  Tell me she didn't have attitude/personality!&lt;br /&gt;3. I got to talk to my Japanese sister today.  We were talking about our "boy" life.  I expressed my frustrations because there weren't a lot of guys in my area I would be interested in.  Then I told her that I was also concerned that maybe I was too picky/superficial.  Her response was, "You are a successful woman.  You should be picky because you are not cheap!"  I loved that response because it reminded me that it is okay to be picky and that I shouldn't settle.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2168456625753333202?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2168456625753333202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2168456625753333202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2168456625753333202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2168456625753333202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/08/why-i-love-life.html' title='Why I love life'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6521127082879894014</id><published>2011-08-28T15:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T15:30:19.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been a While</title><content type='html'>I feel like I haven't blogged in just about forever.  Although I am not staying too terrible busy time is flying by.  I am still looking for a job.  We will see how things turn out.  I hope that all turns out well for me.  The single's branch gave me a calling today and I am excited about it.  I also had the opportunity to speak in sacrament meeting.  The talk seemed to go well.  Otherwise, life is good.  I watched every season of "Scrubs" this month and have even read a few books.  I am loving being around all the nieces and nephews.  They are fun to be around but they can tire me out very quickly.  They are so much fun!  Anyways, that is my life...Hope yours is going just as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6521127082879894014?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6521127082879894014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6521127082879894014' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6521127082879894014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6521127082879894014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s Been a While'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8775590072055786705</id><published>2011-08-02T12:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T12:08:55.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To the Single Ladies...</title><content type='html'>For  all you single ladies who are in such a hurry to get married, here's a  quick piece of Biblical advice: Ruth patiently waited for her mate,  Boaz. While waiting on YOUR Boaz, don't settle for ANY of his relatives:  Brokeaz, Poaz, Lyinaz, Cheatinaz, Dumbaz, Cheapaz, Lockedupaz  Goodfornothinaz, Lazyaz or Marriedaz and especially his third cousin  Beatinyoaz. Please, wait on your Boaz &amp;amp; make sure he respects Yoaz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8775590072055786705?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8775590072055786705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8775590072055786705' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8775590072055786705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8775590072055786705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/08/to-single-ladies.html' title='To the Single Ladies...'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5297714158669270833</id><published>2011-07-31T09:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T09:34:59.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Life</title><content type='html'>Welp, most of you know I am back in Tennessee.  Adjusting to being back home hasn't been the easiest thing for me.  Part of it is because I feel like I am starting over again and part of it is because I never imagined my life turning out like this.  The irony of life may never stop surprising me.  If I gave examples this blog would turn into a pity party...and that is not why I am writing this blog.  The purpose behind this blog is to give you an update.  I have had some higher moments since I've been home.  The garden at home provided me with the opportunity to shuck corn with my dad and pick green beans with my nephew.  I have also had to opportunity to go on a few dates which have been fun.  Recently, I also got to operate a zero turn lawn mower.  Scariest experience of my life!!!!  I thought I was going to die.  I guess the point of this blog is that I should probably focus on the positive and good experiences that I have in my day to day life and find ways to laugh...even when life doesn't go my way.  Because let's be honest...how often does life go our way?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5297714158669270833?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5297714158669270833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5297714158669270833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5297714158669270833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5297714158669270833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/07/good-life.html' title='The Good Life'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-965122796386564610</id><published>2011-07-18T07:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T07:51:45.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To the Fashion World</title><content type='html'>This is just a quick vent to those who design clothes and jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love clothes and REAL jewelry.  What girl doesn't?  And while my taste may not be the best, I would still like to be able to dress and accessorize myself without assistance.  So, may I just say that I hate how you make some jewelry impossible to clasp (necklaces and bracelets) and some dresses harder to zip due to zipper location.  I cannot see the clasp of a necklace as I put it on and I cannot reach to pull up a zipper that goes all the way up my back without a struggle.  So, please remember when you are designing dresses and accessories that not every girl has someone who can help her get dressed.  But if you are wondering...I was able to dress myself yesterday without a struggle and look presentable...it just took me a while longer to get my dress zipped and my necklace and bracelet to clasp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-965122796386564610?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/965122796386564610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=965122796386564610' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/965122796386564610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/965122796386564610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/07/to-fashion-world.html' title='To the Fashion World'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5403269926615495240</id><published>2011-07-05T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T18:57:20.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I'll Miss</title><content type='html'>Welp, I am officially back home in Tennessee.  That's right, I moved back in with the parentals.  I am so excited to be back home but there are some things I will miss about Idaho.  Here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The great friends I made at college (Shane, Sven, Mike, Megs...)&lt;br /&gt;2) Getting my tires rotated for free (Les Schwab)&lt;br /&gt;3) Tillamook cheese and ice cream&lt;br /&gt;4) Zoi Greek Yogurt&lt;br /&gt;5) Winco's bulk section&lt;br /&gt;6) Sarah's Candy Cottage (candy and employees)&lt;br /&gt;7) Having a temple so close (literally right outside my apartment)&lt;br /&gt;8) Going to class (Yes, I miss that too!)&lt;br /&gt;9) Jamba Juice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But Tennessee is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;great&lt;/span&gt;!  It is where my family is.  I am excited to make more memories in the state I grew up in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5403269926615495240?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5403269926615495240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5403269926615495240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5403269926615495240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5403269926615495240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/07/things-ill-miss.html' title='Things I&apos;ll Miss'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7385313079977638990</id><published>2011-07-01T21:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T21:26:27.958-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Britney!</title><content type='html'>I love Britney Spears and this past week I flew to Tacoma, Washington to see her in concert.  The concert was amazing.  I got to go with one of my best friends in the whole world, Mike.  I don't think I can have a bad time when we are together no matter what.  He really is so much fun to hang out with.  One of the best things about the concert was crowd watching.  There were so many trashy people there and homosexuals there.  I even took a picture with one!  Enjoy the pics!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6TdWpVnKQRQ/Tg6dak-QmcI/AAAAAAAAAY8/5Wm5IAraVjU/s1600/IMAG0109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6TdWpVnKQRQ/Tg6dak-QmcI/AAAAAAAAAY8/5Wm5IAraVjU/s400/IMAG0109.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624606064559299010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me, one of Mike's friend, and a random guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5sv56Zf7Vgo/Tg6daY1HI-I/AAAAAAAAAY0/ihdO8nRMmVI/s1600/IMAG0107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5sv56Zf7Vgo/Tg6daY1HI-I/AAAAAAAAAY0/ihdO8nRMmVI/s400/IMAG0107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624606061299704802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mike and I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PjoHdC36oA8/Tg6da_73UEI/AAAAAAAAAZE/WsZkkZyG9cU/s1600/257009_2188894962777_1259188276_2580366_8362459_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PjoHdC36oA8/Tg6da_73UEI/AAAAAAAAAZE/WsZkkZyG9cU/s400/257009_2188894962777_1259188276_2580366_8362459_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624606071797010498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mike, his friend, and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7385313079977638990?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7385313079977638990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7385313079977638990' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7385313079977638990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7385313079977638990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/07/its-britney-b.html' title='It&apos;s Britney!'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6TdWpVnKQRQ/Tg6dak-QmcI/AAAAAAAAAY8/5Wm5IAraVjU/s72-c/IMAG0109.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-3054067485634024334</id><published>2011-06-24T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T09:13:11.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SKS Syndrome</title><content type='html'>SKS, commonly known as Smitten Kitten Syndrome, seems to be spreading rapidly.  I won't say I have never had SKS, but it has never worked out well for me.  So, I want to offer a word of warning to those who have this SKS...guard yourself...it is probably not worth it. Not that I am trying to be negative...but look at the relationships in your life.  Now compare the ones that worked to the ones that didn't work.  Chances are if you are in a long term relationship (A.K.A &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;happily&lt;/span&gt; married) you can only say one worked.  If you are not than the ratio is zero to how many failed relationships you have been in. (This could be 0:1, 0:5, 0:10.)  Think about it...the odds are not in your favor.  So, before you get SKS, you may want to reconsider what you are getting yourself in to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-3054067485634024334?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/3054067485634024334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=3054067485634024334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3054067485634024334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3054067485634024334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/06/sks-syndrome.html' title='SKS Syndrome'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8818527284308646678</id><published>2011-06-22T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T09:01:53.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Late Than Never...Happy Father's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"&gt;We had all my students write a bio poem about their dads for Father's Day.  I wanted to write one about my dad as well (because he rocks).  Be warned that I only had a few minutes to write this.  So here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:Cambria;  panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:"Comic Sans MS";  panose-1:3 15 7 2 3 3 2 2 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt;&lt;/style&gt;           &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:Cambria;  panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:"Comic Sans MS";  panose-1:3 15 7 2 3 3 2 2 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;John&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Successful, Handsome, Loving, Strong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Father of Renee’, Michael, Sandra, James, Rebekah, and Charity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Lover of nature, family, and the gospel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Who feels excited to serve others, peaceful when reading his scriptures, and full after eating mom’s good cooking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Who fears nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Who would like to see his kids get along when they are together, his cholesterol at a healthy level, and his family living close to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Who lives for family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Eaton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:arial;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 24pt;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;font-family:arial;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 24pt;font-size:100%;" &gt;This is my senses poem I wrote about family:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;           &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:Cambria;  panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Monaco;  panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt;&lt;/style&gt;           &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:Cambria;  panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face  {font-family:Monaco;  panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Family &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;looks&lt;/i&gt; like an endless meadow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Family &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;sounds&lt;/i&gt; like laughter around a campfire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Family &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;feels&lt;/i&gt; like a thick, warm quilt, nice to have around when needed and feels smothering at other times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Family &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;tastes&lt;/i&gt; like Sour Patch Kids…first they’re sour, then they’re sweet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;mso-bidi-font-family:Monaco;font-size:12.0pt;"  &gt;Family &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;smells&lt;/i&gt; like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8818527284308646678?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8818527284308646678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8818527284308646678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8818527284308646678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8818527284308646678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/06/better-late-than-neverhappy-fathers-day.html' title='Better Late Than Never...Happy Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-167637015458559556</id><published>2011-06-20T12:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T12:37:14.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo Overload</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9Xu5xHboxA/Tf-hQVzSJ_I/AAAAAAAAAYc/aCkErad8MWc/s1600/IMAG0038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9Xu5xHboxA/Tf-hQVzSJ_I/AAAAAAAAAYc/aCkErad8MWc/s400/IMAG0038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620388162083891186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Releasing  butterflies while student teaching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PzbL_xzB3TA/Tf-gfWrktII/AAAAAAAAAYM/nhgvL2VHotM/s1600/249876_2083287442655_1259188276_2475511_5702334_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PzbL_xzB3TA/Tf-gfWrktII/AAAAAAAAAYM/nhgvL2VHotM/s400/249876_2083287442655_1259188276_2475511_5702334_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620387320506397826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The gum wall in Seattle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--pwXvFIdjNs/Tf-gfDn5LgI/AAAAAAAAAYE/KmR1LL20k40/s1600/248725_2083757814414_1259188276_2476294_6015834_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--pwXvFIdjNs/Tf-gfDn5LgI/AAAAAAAAAYE/KmR1LL20k40/s400/248725_2083757814414_1259188276_2476294_6015834_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620387315390688770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me and on of my besties, Mike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QuwSNwBO43A/Tf-geOV19bI/AAAAAAAAAX8/itk_zlGhYWQ/s1600/IMAG0059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QuwSNwBO43A/Tf-geOV19bI/AAAAAAAAAX8/itk_zlGhYWQ/s400/IMAG0059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620387301087901106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The two-wheeler ride...who needs the fair?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kDVF_1cdY4k/Tf-gfzZ8aCI/AAAAAAAAAYU/0vHR79uDLhY/s1600/252015_2083286122622_1259188276_2475506_2755995_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kDVF_1cdY4k/Tf-gfzZ8aCI/AAAAAAAAAYU/0vHR79uDLhY/s400/252015_2083286122622_1259188276_2475506_2755995_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620387328217081890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me and one of my besties, Shane, at the Seattle Ferry Dock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CF0YszIQnrE/Tf-fjaervDI/AAAAAAAAAX0/edfWs-zCEQU/s1600/215185_10150226776711276_729226275_9190462_5174272_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CF0YszIQnrE/Tf-fjaervDI/AAAAAAAAAX0/edfWs-zCEQU/s400/215185_10150226776711276_729226275_9190462_5174272_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620386290733923378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My favorite teacher/hero, Sister Kay and I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ghf43JOd60/Tf-ffhk1hpI/AAAAAAAAAXs/7BdKZmWjlHw/s1600/210257_205580106133595_100000448216332_710231_4023930_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ghf43JOd60/Tf-ffhk1hpI/AAAAAAAAAXs/7BdKZmWjlHw/s400/210257_205580106133595_100000448216332_710231_4023930_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620386223919302290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After I got my diploma...well diploma cover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-167637015458559556?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/167637015458559556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=167637015458559556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/167637015458559556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/167637015458559556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/06/photo-overload.html' title='Photo Overload'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9Xu5xHboxA/Tf-hQVzSJ_I/AAAAAAAAAYc/aCkErad8MWc/s72-c/IMAG0038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4542242006009138580</id><published>2011-06-17T06:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T06:47:22.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stick a Fork in Me</title><content type='html'>Welp...time to enter the real world.  I am officially &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;DONE&lt;/span&gt; with student teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I still have no idea what I am going to do with my life now.  I am super excited about seeing my family.  I miss them a lot...especially all my nieces and nephews.  I really do have the best family in the world.  I know that I can honestly count on them to be there for me...even after I make a bad choice.  My siblings and parents rock.  It will be amazing to be so close to some of my best friends in the whole wide world!  All my siblings will be back home with the exception of my oldest  brother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4542242006009138580?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4542242006009138580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4542242006009138580' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4542242006009138580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4542242006009138580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/06/stick-fork-in-me.html' title='Stick a Fork in Me'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5169206024640549630</id><published>2011-06-08T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T20:51:49.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seven Days Left</title><content type='html'>Only seven days left of school...that means only seven days left of student teaching...that means only seven days  before I am officially finished with college...that means I should probably figure out what to do with my life...Does that make me a grown up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5169206024640549630?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5169206024640549630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5169206024640549630' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5169206024640549630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5169206024640549630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/06/seven-days-left.html' title='Seven Days Left'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6893892310218941448</id><published>2011-06-05T13:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T17:18:03.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking about Love</title><content type='html'>So, I think a lot about love...Here are some of my random thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking a lot about the quote I blogged about a few weeks ago, "Choose your love.  Then, love your choice every day."  There are times in my life when I feel unlovable because that special someone hasn't came into my life yet.  I counted at least four boys I have loved in my life, some by choice and some I "fell" for.  Then I wondered, "Why didn't these boys choose to love me in return?"  I don't know.  Maybe they were too scared.  Maybe they were too superficial.  Maybe they were too selfish.  Maybe they didn't know how to receive or return love.  For whatever reason these boys chose not to love me in return.  At first, I was somewhat bitter.  Then, I was just comforted.  I learned something from each of these guys.  So, yeah, I should thank them.  After all, like Sandra said, "There always has to be the ones before the one." (P.S.  Boys, I am the last single Eaton woman on the market....and we are the best there is out there...You should be fighting for my affections....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a few weeks ago after a guy decided he didn't like me one of my male friends said, "Beke, He's an idiot because you are the best girl out there."  I got bitter because I thought, "Evidently not!  If I were you would be with me!"  I wish people didn't say things they didn't mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last little rant is how I often say I don't believe in love.  We all know that this is a lie.  Sometimes I lie to myself or others about feelings to make me feel better.  However, I don't want to lie.  I just want to be me.  I don't want to be who a person wants me to be.  They are either going to like me or not.  If not, then I don't need them in my crazy, messed up life.  Do I believe in love?  Yes!  Have I experienced true love?  I don't know.  I like to think so.  Maybe not with all four guys I say I have loved...but with one or two of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6893892310218941448?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6893892310218941448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6893892310218941448' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6893892310218941448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6893892310218941448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/06/whats-on-my-mind.html' title='Thinking about Love'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6913320586228211301</id><published>2011-05-31T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T21:37:06.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye May--Hello June</title><content type='html'>May was definitely not my best month (but at least the world didn't end as predicted)!  The good news is that it is over!  I am super excited about June. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Why?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;1. I officially finish student teaching in June.  Actually, I am done with student teaching in two and a half weeks...not that I am counting.  Then I am going to hang out in Boise for a while. &lt;br /&gt;2. At the end of June, June 29 to be exact, I am flying out to Tacoma (Seattle) to see Britney Spears in concert with one of my best friends!!!!!  I am so excited to see her!  She may be one of my girl crushes. &lt;br /&gt;3. Charity and Riley also come out to visit in June!  Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; So, May&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;YOU SUCKED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; (Only Really)&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;June&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BE PREPARED TO ROCK MY WORLD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6913320586228211301?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6913320586228211301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6913320586228211301' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6913320586228211301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6913320586228211301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/goodbye-may-hello-june.html' title='Goodbye May--Hello June'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4267327092026402340</id><published>2011-05-24T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T19:02:05.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupidity</title><content type='html'>Another quick vent:&lt;br /&gt;I hate to see people make dumb choices.  Yet, I see it all the time.  These people have no clue that their choices are dumb.  Why?  Because they are lovestoned.  Don't get me wrong,  I've been lovestoned before and made the dumbest of choices. Thus, I know where these people are coming from. (I am proud to say that since my experience I have chosen to be realistic and stay off of "love weed".) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, my message is: Don't let yourself become lovestoned.  You should choose love and choose to be "sober" while experiencing it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4267327092026402340?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4267327092026402340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4267327092026402340' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4267327092026402340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4267327092026402340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/stupidity.html' title='Stupidity'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-9121411357411764580</id><published>2011-05-20T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T18:54:59.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday To Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I7xmagGNiEM/Tdhs71wvP8I/AAAAAAAAAXU/G7eKJ_TR4jU/s1600/Photo%2B3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I7xmagGNiEM/Tdhs71wvP8I/AAAAAAAAAXU/G7eKJ_TR4jU/s400/Photo%2B3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609353111189536706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zx-UAH9Ue30/Tdf0FB5AEiI/AAAAAAAAAXM/z7yVVhvZoSk/s1600/Photo%2B3.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and My Birthday Present to Myself&lt;br /&gt;(A right hand ring)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It is exactly one week until my official birthday.  I love my birthday and believe that one day is not enough time to celebrate it.  So, tonight I went out and bought myself a birthday present.   I have been wanting a right hand diamond ring for a while.   Thus, tonight I sent out on a quest to find one.  I tried on a few but I couldn't find one that worked perfectly on my hand.  Then, it happened.  The jewelry lady brought out a white sapphire ring for me to try on.  I tried it one and immediately fell in love with the way it looked on my hand.  It was like the ring was made for me.  It was also a really, really great price.  So, of course I didn't hesitate to buy it.  I don't think it looks too gaudy, which is nice.  I have tried to take pictures to share with ya'll but light reflects off the stones so I can't.  I am sad it is sapphires and not diamonds, but it is still beautiful.  Maybe I will get myself a diamond right hand ring for my graduation present.  As for now, I will keep admiring my great find I purchased as a birthday present to me.  I wonder what I will get for myself to celebrate tomorrow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-9121411357411764580?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/9121411357411764580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=9121411357411764580' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9121411357411764580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9121411357411764580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday To Me!'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I7xmagGNiEM/Tdhs71wvP8I/AAAAAAAAAXU/G7eKJ_TR4jU/s72-c/Photo%2B3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-3841352591065739175</id><published>2011-05-18T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T16:30:00.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of the World...Oh My</title><content type='html'>So, evidently there are some who believe that the end of the world is coming this week.  I hope not...I want to actually see my college diploma before the world ends!  I worked too terribly hard for it.  If the world ended, I would be in decent shape overall. This talk about the world ending made me remember an experience I had in an English class after reading the book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tuesdays with Morrie&lt;/span&gt;.  For those who haven't read it, read it!  The class was an emotional class where we did a simulation as if we were in a cave and we got trapped as a class and would die.  We had a few minutes to write our last thoughts. My letter focused on telling my family that I love them.  Still, I remember writing the letter and thinking that my family already knew how much I loved them.  Suddenly, I regretted not telling the people that I had loved that I loved them.  Since that day, I have gotten much better at saying "I love you" to those important people in my life.  Still, there are a lot of people who I love that I have never verbalized it to or that I haven't verbalized it to in way too long.  So yeah, if the world ended this week I think my biggest regret would be not saying "I love you" enough.  I hope we all find the courage and strength to allow ourselves to truly love all the amazing people that enter our lives in various seasons and choke up the three hardest words to say in the English language "I love you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-3841352591065739175?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/3841352591065739175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=3841352591065739175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3841352591065739175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3841352591065739175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/end-of-worldoh-my.html' title='The End of the World...Oh My'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4317328619723032823</id><published>2011-05-17T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T21:02:47.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Testimony</title><content type='html'>I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (for random readers who don't know).  I don't get to share my testimony often and I have had an urge to share it with somebody for a while.  Thus, I am writing it and sharing it with all who are willing to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are few things I know for sure in this life.  It seems like change is the only constant.  However, this is a fallacy because I know that I have a loving Heavenly Father who knows and loves me.  He is the same "yesterday, today, and forever."  Although others in life may disappoint me or cause me grief, my Heavenly Father never will.  He cares for me and listens to my prayers.  I know that he answers my prayers and provides me comfort when I am feeling down.  I know he sent his son, Jesus Christ, to this Earth to atone for my sins.  It is comforting to know that because of this atonement Christ knows and has felt every sorrow I will ever feel.  He knows the pain I feel when a family member passes away, when I make a huge mistake, I fail a test, or when a boy decides he doesn't like me.  Because of this He is one of my best friends.  I know that Joseph Smith restored the true church to the face of the Earth in this dispensation.  The Book of Mormon is true and is a companion to the Bible.  I can grow closer to my heavenly parents by reading, studying, and following the principles in these books.  I learn how to live a more meaningful life as I study the scriptures and words of living prophets.  Thomas S. Monson is the prophet on the face of the Earth today.  He recieves the guidance necessary to lead the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my teaching program at BYU-Idaho our motto was "Christ as the Master Teacher."  I believe that Christ is a master teacher.  He is a master at differentiated instruction.  He constantly provides me with meaningful and challenging experiences that I need to learn, grow, and reach my full potential as a daughter of God.  I love that as a educator I have such an amazing teacher to strive to be like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4317328619723032823?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4317328619723032823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4317328619723032823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4317328619723032823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4317328619723032823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/testimony.html' title='Testimony'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-3801194020542166819</id><published>2011-05-17T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T20:33:26.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>27 on the 27th</title><content type='html'>Bahahahahah!  I will be 27 in a one and a half weeks.  As to true fashion I wanted to share 27 interesting facts about me!  Here ya go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I enjoy playing in the rain and splashing in mud puddles.&lt;br /&gt;2. I love grilled cheese sandwiches with pepper jack cheese.  Yum!&lt;br /&gt;3. There are certain words that I cannot pronounce correctly no matter how hard I try.&lt;br /&gt;4. Taco Bell has been one of my favorite places to eat since I was a young child.&lt;br /&gt;5. I feel like I talk about myself way too much....like giving you 27 random facts....&lt;br /&gt;6. I am not smarter than a 5th grader.&lt;br /&gt;7. Sometimes I wear boys' deodorant because I love the smell of it.&lt;br /&gt;8. I am working on how to learn to relax.&lt;br /&gt;9. I struggle with not making impulsive, expensive purchases.&lt;br /&gt;10. I bit my nails until I was 21 years old.&lt;br /&gt;11. My parents are my role models.&lt;br /&gt;12. Swings make me nauseous.&lt;br /&gt;13. I think the simplicity of life is what makes life wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;14. I put my hand on a screw every time I go over a railroad track and wish for eternal happiness.&lt;br /&gt;15. No matter what you wish to believe, I really am shy.&lt;br /&gt;16. I still pick my nose.....shhhh.....&lt;br /&gt;17. I would do anything in the world for the people I love.&lt;br /&gt;18. I have the stinkiest feet in the world....only really.&lt;br /&gt;19. I only cry in front of my closest friends...I don't think others should ever see me so vulnerable.&lt;br /&gt;20. I let myself dream way too much at times.&lt;br /&gt;21. My dream car is a Jeep Wrangler.&lt;br /&gt;22. I am sentimental and try to keep everything that has meaning to it.&lt;br /&gt;23. I am not photogenic.&lt;br /&gt;24. I constantly worry about my weight.&lt;br /&gt;25. I am insecure.&lt;br /&gt;26. I won't be your friend unless I think it will help make me a better person.&lt;br /&gt;27. If I had one more day to live, I still wouldn't want to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-3801194020542166819?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/3801194020542166819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=3801194020542166819' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3801194020542166819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/3801194020542166819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/27-on-27th.html' title='27 on the 27th'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7942632272397694039</id><published>2011-05-17T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T17:55:45.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Choose your love...</title><content type='html'>This is actually a post I wrote last week but the site was down and I was unable to post it....Here ya go....&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */ @font-face  {font-family:Cambria;  panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:auto;  mso-font-pitch:variable;  mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}  /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Choose your love, then love your choice everyday….&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This was a quote that a friend had put as their facebook status.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I really enjoyed this quote.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I firmly believe that love is a choice.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Too frequently people look for “the one” or a perfect match for them.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have news for all you dreamers…not gonna happen!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Love doesn’t just coincidentally happen.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A person chooses to spend time with another person.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A person chooses to let another person get to know them.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A person chooses to let themselves accept another person’s flaws.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;A person chooses to want to make another person happy.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In short…life is about choices…even when it comes to love.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As for an update on my life.  Life is going good.  I am over halfway finished with student teaching and I meet my halfway mark for full time teaching tomorrow.  I have really come to love my students.  They cheer me up on the cloudiest of days.  The smiles have really brought so much needed sunshine into my life lately.  My sister, Sandra, reminded me today that life is good, except when it isn't.  I have to keep that in mind and keep on trekking no matter what happens and how the choices other people make effect me.  But then again, I choose to decide how I will allow others' choices to effect me as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7942632272397694039?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7942632272397694039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7942632272397694039' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7942632272397694039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7942632272397694039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/choose-your-love.html' title='Choose your love...'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-9030028770584986410</id><published>2011-05-11T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:35:34.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired By Ginny</title><content type='html'>Ginny is my young nine year old niece.  I love her to pieces.  I got an Easter basket from my family and Ginny made me a card.  In the card she put some long lost advice that I, along with her other aunts, had given her when she was just a toddler (only really) as we let her drive my car in our front yard.  The advice was simply, "Boys break your heart but chocolate makes it all better."  I just want to thank Ginny for the reminder and remind her that the advice her aunts gave her so long ago is probably the best advice she will receive her entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note I was listening to a song today that made me kind of bitter.  Taio Cruz's song lyrics usually don't make me bitter...but today they did.  I was listening to his song "Falling in Love."  The lyrics suggest that "today is a great day for falling in love."  Then I thought, "Liar!  No day is a good day to fall in love."  At first I thought that I was being cynical..but then I realize the correctness of my thoughts.  You shouldn't fall in love because falling isn't a choice and I am a firm believer that love is a choice.  So, Taio, your song is a lie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought about relationships in general.  I hate when relationships end.  It is like having high speed internet your whole life and then one day having it taken away from you.  You then realize that the slow dial up internet is better than no internet at all.  Here is the analogy I am getting to.  Life is full of changes you cannot help.  People move.  People grow.  People change.  So although you might have something great at one point in your life (high speed internet), say a good friend,  if you like it, them, enough you don't want to do without it, them, you accept the change and settle for mere dial-up, say an acquaintance.  So, I think I am just rambling at this point, but I hope you get my point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-9030028770584986410?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/9030028770584986410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=9030028770584986410' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9030028770584986410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9030028770584986410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/inspired-by-ginny.html' title='Inspired By Ginny'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8429871010018470055</id><published>2011-05-09T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T20:53:13.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings of a Beke</title><content type='html'>So, I have decided that few people read my blog so I can really write whatever I feel like...no matter how crazy it sounds at the moment.  But in the end, I blog for me because I find it therapeutic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I feel like I am a horrible verbal communicator.  If you want to know how I am really feeling about something ask me to put it in a letter.  I enjoy writing.  I am also braver and bolder when writing a letter.  A pen empowers me.  I no longer feel vulnerable with a pen in my hand but I feel as if I can be as bold as necessary to convey a point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Nature soothes me.  I love nature and almost everything it consists of.  I remember perfect windy days when I was younger and going outside with the belief that I could fly.  Thus, I would outstretch my arms.  Hunting and fishing with my siblings was also a sweet experience.  I miss the woods behind my house and the sweet smell of honeysuckle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I am an animal lover.  I was looking at a picture of James with our old cat Tiger and recalling sweet memories with those stinkin cats, and I am not a cat person at all.  I remember putting a sleeping bag on the porch and lying in the sleeping bag.  The cats (Socks, Tiger, and Oreo if I remember right) would crawl in the sleeping bags and keep my feet nice and warm.  I loved it.  However, this may be the only time you ever hear me admit that cats aren't too terribly bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I hate being alone at night.  It is no secret that I am a cuddler.  I love the security I feel when I am being cuddled.  I especially loved being cuddled at night because I often have nightmares that horrify me, you know they type that wake you up and you almost fear going back to sleep because the nightmare could continue.  I hate waking up from a nightmare and being alone.  Unfortunately, I usually am alone when waking up from a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Failure and the unknown petrify me.  I want to be a success at life.  I don't know what success for me will look like.  I am finishing up my degree in teaching (currently student teaching) and everyday I hope that I don't mess up the kids.  Charity says believes that "the kids of America will be okay" as long as I am a teacher.  I know this is a joke but I hope she is right.  I don't want to fail my students.  I already love each of my current and future students so much.  Plus, they may be the closest thing I ever get to youngsters of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  My family is the most important thing to me.  I love them each so much.  I often feel guilty because I don't show or express my love for them enough.  They have always been there for me not matter how dumb or crazy I get.  For this fact alone I love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I love, love, did I say love s'mores!  They are like a little bit of heaven in my mouth each time I eat them.  I remember camping when I was younger and eating so many s'mores that my face was covered in sticky marshmallow.  Oh, and I also burn my marshmallows on purpose...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I hate reading blogs about how great someone's spouse is or how much they love marital bliss.  I feel like some people include these subjects in every blog.  Sometimes I want to shout and say, "Thanks for rubbing it my face!"  I want to hear about life when I read my family and friends blog, not a 2,000 word essay on how wonderful and delightful their spouse is.  I don't mind stories about their family and spouses, but I hate the mushy stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welp...that is eight tidbits about me.  I know...random but true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8429871010018470055?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8429871010018470055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8429871010018470055' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8429871010018470055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8429871010018470055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/ramblings-of-beke.html' title='Ramblings of a Beke'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2971157543027515117</id><published>2011-05-08T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T19:12:17.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/dnMv6eRh38g?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is no secret that I absolutely, positively love Taylor Swift.  I know I have been blogging a lot lately but I have had a lot of time to think and ponder this weekend and it hasn't exactly been a weekend of dreams.  If something could go wrong this weekend, it has went wrong.  Things aren't always how you believe they are.  However, that is part of life.  So, this song describes exactly how I have been feeling.  I really have no clue what I am doing with my life and would love someone to objectively help me try to figure it out.  It is hard to figure life out when you seem to aimlessly wonder through so many unnecessary storms.  However, the storms make the stronger and help me be able to see better at other times in my life.  So, yeah...enjoy the song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2971157543027515117?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2971157543027515117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2971157543027515117' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2971157543027515117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2971157543027515117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/another-song.html' title='Another Song'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/dnMv6eRh38g/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4655681688337465615</id><published>2011-05-08T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T08:21:08.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith and Hope: A Serious Post</title><content type='html'>I often think about the concepts of faith and hope and often fear that I lack both.  It isn't that I am a pessimist, I am just scared of having hope and honestly it is hard to have faith when some things in life are so uncertain.  For example, some people have faith that their terminally ill relatives will be healed or that they will land their dream job right out of college.  Although I admire the faith of these people, I don't know how realistic what they have faith for is.  Then, I feel guilty. I think, "If Christ can raise the dead can't he perform these small miracles?"  I don't know if my faith is where is needs to be.  I try to have faith but it is a concept I truly struggle with.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often struggle with having hope.  Did you know that I avoid taking pictures with people because I don't want to have to destroy them when friendships or relationships end?  Yes, pathetic I know.  I don't understand why I would take pictures when they could only come back to haunt me.  Most of my pictures I allow myself to be in are with my family or closest of friends that I don't believe have the capability to hurt me.   If I allow myself to take pictures with mere acquaintances I allow myself to hope for more than a casual friendship.  Not that I am not grateful for casual friendships, I just want to protect myself.  So, why allow yourself to hope for something and then be disappointed when things don't work the way you hoped. I guess I am a realist.  However, I think this point of view has allowed me to get through many of life's disappointments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thought.  I wanted to share a quote a found on a friend's blog:&lt;br /&gt;"You have to find something that you love enough to be able to take risks, jump over the hurdles and break through the brick walls that are always going to be placed in front of you. If you don't have that kind of feeling for what it is you are doing, you'll stop at the first giant hurdle.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4655681688337465615?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4655681688337465615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4655681688337465615' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4655681688337465615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4655681688337465615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/faith-and-hope-serious-post.html' title='Faith and Hope: A Serious Post'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8094986890017666571</id><published>2011-05-07T19:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T19:25:06.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom</title><content type='html'>It is Mother's Day tomorrow and I can not help but to think of what an amazing mom I have been blessed with.  I appreciate the fact that she is always there for me and willing to stand up for me when I am not willing to stand up for myself.  She is the most beautiful woman I know, inside and out, and has a wonderful disposition.  I love her tons!  So mom, I can only aspire to be as wonderful as you.  I love you and hope you have the best day of your life every day you live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8094986890017666571?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8094986890017666571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8094986890017666571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8094986890017666571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8094986890017666571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/mom.html' title='Mom'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8927960067576849495</id><published>2011-05-06T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T19:42:53.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Train - Marry Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ghZt2cILcCU?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely, positively love this song.  Yes, it is one of the "mushiest" songs in the world, but I am a big squish no matter how much I deny it.  However, the first line gets me, "Forever could never be long enough for me to feel like I've had long enough with you."  I love this line because the list I made years ago in Young Women's about my perfect man/boy talked about eternities with this person not being long enough.  Last semester when I was in social dance I learned how to waltz.  I think it would be amazing to fall in love and waltz with the person I fell in love with to this song.  However, love often seems to be more of an idea than a reality.  My waltz is a little rusty now, but maybe one day I will get to waltz to the song.  As for know, I will verbally deny the existence of romantic love and internally realize that I am wrong for doing so and dream of finding such great love myself. Oh, and if you are wondering....here is the complete list I made.  I think I was probably around 16 when I made this list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Look at him and truly believe he is the most beautiful person ever and see us holding hands when we are old&lt;br /&gt;• Be able to sit on a swing, not say a word, and feel like we just had the best conversation ever&lt;br /&gt;• Romantic, but not overly romantic&lt;br /&gt;• Masculine, but still sensitive&lt;br /&gt;• Brave, courageous, and crazy (He doesn’t care what other people think, he will always be himself)&lt;br /&gt;• Can tell how I am feeling without me saying a word&lt;br /&gt;• Can make me laugh and feel happy, whenever, no matter what the circumstances&lt;br /&gt;• Strives for success&lt;br /&gt;• Always smiles (optimistic)&lt;br /&gt;• Funny&lt;br /&gt;• Not to critical&lt;br /&gt;• Righteous&lt;br /&gt;• Understands my faults&lt;br /&gt;• I can’t even think of imagining forever without him&lt;br /&gt;• Dates are more than just dinner and a movie&lt;br /&gt;• Rational thinker, but not to rational (that will stop me from being so irrational)&lt;br /&gt;• The thought of him makes me smile uncontrollably&lt;br /&gt;• Eternities with (loving) him still isn’t enough&lt;br /&gt;• Makes me want to be a better person&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8927960067576849495?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8927960067576849495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8927960067576849495' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8927960067576849495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8927960067576849495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/train-marry-me.html' title='Train - Marry Me'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ghZt2cILcCU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5912627209317961927</id><published>2011-05-06T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T19:02:09.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Places I want to vist</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h7nLJrA5rZ8/TcSoD2k58lI/AAAAAAAAAW8/uu-ZuvkCcDA/s1600/index.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h7nLJrA5rZ8/TcSoD2k58lI/AAAAAAAAAW8/uu-ZuvkCcDA/s400/index.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603788620499120722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An African Safari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4jTKIlu8z4Y/TcSnsmaF2vI/AAAAAAAAAW0/7gxNGYI3PLI/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4jTKIlu8z4Y/TcSnsmaF2vI/AAAAAAAAAW0/7gxNGYI3PLI/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603788221021805298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tokyo, Japan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5J43Xjj6C9Y/TcSm0bSDI0I/AAAAAAAAAWs/mXQiEMzM7Sc/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5J43Xjj6C9Y/TcSm0bSDI0I/AAAAAAAAAWs/mXQiEMzM7Sc/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603787255962608450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Athens, Greece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jhrrPY0WKMg/TcSmJ_WJbPI/AAAAAAAAAWk/YACeAlV2yMM/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jhrrPY0WKMg/TcSmJ_WJbPI/AAAAAAAAAWk/YACeAlV2yMM/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603786526909099250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;India (The Taj Mahal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EfoLb7v5rVE/TcSl1BIBdQI/AAAAAAAAAWc/khPYdMnkQTo/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 182px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EfoLb7v5rVE/TcSl1BIBdQI/AAAAAAAAAWc/khPYdMnkQTo/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603786166609474818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jerusalem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aDiLiyPYKts/TcSleyYn5JI/AAAAAAAAAWU/6omnfOK_Fdc/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aDiLiyPYKts/TcSleyYn5JI/AAAAAAAAAWU/6omnfOK_Fdc/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603785784695448722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Auckland, New Zealand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5912627209317961927?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5912627209317961927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5912627209317961927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5912627209317961927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5912627209317961927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/05/places-i-want-to-vist.html' title='Places I want to vist'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h7nLJrA5rZ8/TcSoD2k58lI/AAAAAAAAAW8/uu-ZuvkCcDA/s72-c/index.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6715779851336136577</id><published>2011-04-25T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T17:44:02.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Student Teaching...The First Weeks</title><content type='html'>So, sometimes I believe that my students think I am an alien.  Communicating with six year old children is hard.  They don't understand my vocabulary and I don't know how to break the words I am using down to mean anything simpler.  However, I have had some gratifying moments.  Here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student: What grade is Miss Eaton teaching next year?&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;Student: I hope she teaches second grade so she can be my teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: What &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;time&lt;/span&gt; do you wake up in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;Student: Whenever I hear a noise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student looking at a book about the solar system&lt;br /&gt;Teacher:  Do you enjoy looking at the planets?&lt;br /&gt;Student: I am just looking for heaven.  Is it on this map?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher dismisses girls and then boys&lt;br /&gt;Boy One (disgruntled):  Why are the boys always last?&lt;br /&gt;Boy Two: Because ladies go first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few stories from the top of my head.  I am continuously learning new things about six year old children and hope I can figure them out before the end of the semester comes.  My evaluation scores are not where I would like them to be but I am still learning.  My teacher tells me that I am where I need to be as a student teacher but low scores for an over achiever are hard.  I know that I am still growing as a teacher and I have already started to work out some of my kinks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6715779851336136577?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6715779851336136577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6715779851336136577' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6715779851336136577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6715779851336136577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/04/student-teachingthe-first-weeks.html' title='Student Teaching...The First Weeks'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1864690205505734206</id><published>2011-04-16T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T17:20:15.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life After Graduation</title><content type='html'>I have been away from Rexburg for a week and I miss it so very much.  I started my student teaching on Monday.  I interviewed and did orientation most of the day.  I also decided to explore Meridian.  It is a nice town and I like it a lot.  I have a feeling it will be difficult for me to leave this city when June comes.  The weather is so much nicer.  I met my students on Tuesday.  They are such a wonderful group of munchkins.  I already love each of them so much and they seem to enjoy having another teacher around.  I hope I am using the knowledge I gained in my past four years of college like my teachers planned on me using it...appropriately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also realize that graduating from college means that I have to have courage.  No one ever prepares for all of the post graduation decisions you have to make.  I feel like no decision is the best decision and I just have to make one and go with it.  So, I am starting the application process for some schools in TN.  I don't want to leave Idaho but I have to be brave and move on to new adventures.  Am I doing the right thing?  Only time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1864690205505734206?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1864690205505734206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1864690205505734206' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1864690205505734206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1864690205505734206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/04/life-after-graduation.html' title='Life After Graduation'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-474557076057910710</id><published>2011-04-08T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T12:14:34.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduation</title><content type='html'>Well, the time has come. Today has been a busy day.  I've packed all my belongings and they are being transported home.  It is amazing to look at your life and see how little you really possess.  These past few years in Southeastern Idaho have been amazing.  It is very difficult for me to leave and I feel like I have been an emotional wreck today.  Yet, I know that it is essential for me to leave in order to continue progressing in life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of life...It is amazing how it rarely works out the way you plan.  This is definitely not how I saw my life going 15 years ago.  Not that I am not okay with my life and I don't love life the majority of the time, but I can not sit and read my journals from adolescent and not mourn my old dreams.  Yet, my new dreams aren't too shabby.  Yes, I still want a lot of the things I wanted when I was younger.  However, my dreams have matured as I have matured and I realize that things happen in their own time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as my plans go for now, it looks like I going to be student teaching and then moving back to Tennessee.  Oh, how I love the South!  It is in my blood.  I love sitting on the porch swing, smelling the sweet honeysuckle in the air, looking at the bright stars, and listening to soft song of the crickets.  I am probably romanticizing home a little (or a lot) too much but if I don't, I will not go back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majority of my family is also in Tennessee.  I love my brothers, sisters, in-laws, and nieces and nephews out that way.  They are all great people.  There is not doubt that I will find opportunities to love and receive love when I go home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Rexburg, I mourn leaving you; Boise, I am excited to meet you, and Tennessee, we will meet again soon.  Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-474557076057910710?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/474557076057910710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=474557076057910710' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/474557076057910710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/474557076057910710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/04/graduation.html' title='Graduation'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8555737081256947</id><published>2011-03-23T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T23:45:08.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is It</title><content type='html'>So, it's official...I will be graduating from college in a matter of weeks.  I am super stoked and super scared at the same time.  I don't want to leave this part of my life.  Some great memories have been made at college.  I remember being hesitant and scared to  embark on the adventure I am getting ready to end and now I wish it could last for forever.  My next adventure is moving back home to Tennessee to live with the parentals until I can get established.  I don't think I will want that adventure to last forever.  I do have hopes that one day, maybe in the mist of another adventure, that my greatest adventure of all will happen.  We will see how life turns out.  I don't want to make plans because when I do the unexpected always rocks my world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8555737081256947?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8555737081256947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8555737081256947' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8555737081256947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8555737081256947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/03/this-is-it.html' title='This is It'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2703164724462702737</id><published>2011-02-24T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T07:46:22.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living the Dream</title><content type='html'>When people ask me how I am doing I usually respond, "Just living the dream." no matter how great or horrible I am doing.  This morning I woke up and thought, "What is the dream?"  Ughh...life is so stressful.  I questioned if I really was living the so called American Dream.  I am always working.  I go to school, come home, do homework, go to work, come back home,  do a little more homework, and try to laugh as much as possible during the process.  Don't get my wrong, I really do love life, but I am so ready for a little Beke time.  The American Dream is great and all but sometimes I wish I could experience a slower paced life.  I have heard that in other countries things are so much more relaxed. Maybe that's the life I would love for me.  But for now, I must keep on working.  I am glad I live in a country where anyone can succeed if they work hard, but I am even beginning to question what success is.  Can you truly succeed with all this hard work?  I might succeed in my professional life but what about my spiritual, emotional, and social self?  I wonder if I really am living the dream our forefathers envisioned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2703164724462702737?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2703164724462702737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2703164724462702737' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2703164724462702737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2703164724462702737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/02/living-dream.html' title='Living the Dream'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8001778953232946379</id><published>2011-01-16T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T14:05:57.658-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year, Real Me</title><content type='html'>I wasn't going to make any New Year's Resolutions this year.  However, that changed this past week.  Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to work on getting to know myself better.  I want to just be myself and stop trying to be who I think other people want me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8001778953232946379?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8001778953232946379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8001778953232946379' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8001778953232946379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8001778953232946379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-real-me.html' title='New Year, Real Me'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7586601720073897416</id><published>2011-01-13T12:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T12:38:53.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Christmas Card Ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;My friend made me a Christmas card and it may be one of the best I have ever gotten.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;He took the time to draw and cut out the letters M-E-R-R-Y.  I am pretty sure he probably realized it wasn't worth the work to do the same for C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S so he just wrote it.  The best part was the inside.  He wrote ten things he loved about me.  Here they are:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;1. The way you snort when you laugh at something super funny.&lt;br /&gt;2. Your cooking.  It's A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!&lt;br /&gt;3. The way you always wait for me to open your door.&lt;br /&gt;4. The "Becky Swagger."&lt;br /&gt;5. How you say, "I'm just living my life" when the quirky things happen.&lt;br /&gt;6. The ways you swear when something catches you off guard.&lt;br /&gt;7. Becky's "Story Time"&lt;br /&gt;8. The way you fall asleep in church.  Super Funny!&lt;br /&gt;9. The way you get all dressed up to go hang out with all your guy friends.&lt;br /&gt;10. How you aren't afraid of anything and how you say you're really a shy person, but I've yet to see it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, this card made my day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7586601720073897416?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7586601720073897416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7586601720073897416' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7586601720073897416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7586601720073897416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2011/01/best-christmas-card-ever.html' title='The Best Christmas Card Ever'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7472111063392688178</id><published>2010-12-25T08:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T08:00:54.871-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Airports</title><content type='html'>Life is full of the unexpected.   I am currently sitting in the Denver Airport during my journey home to Tennessee.  The fact that I am going to be home for the holidays is still very surreal to me.  I love Tennessee.  It is home and always will be.  The grass has always been a little bit greener in Tennessee.  My family and childhood memories are on that sacred southern soil.  However, my love for Tennessee is not the reason for this blog.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are the motivator of this blog.  I have a longs layover here and had had the chance to observe many people.  I saw young couples and families traveling together and slightly envy them for what they have.  I saw people who look like bikers.  I saw a guy covered in hickeys.  I saw rednecks.  I saw people traveling alone and using their computers and iPods for entertainment.  I had the opportunity to talk to a few people: a mother traveling to see their children, a guy who just visited his girlfriend, an middle-aged gentleman traveling to see his parents.   It was so nice talking to these people.  I find their stories fascinating.  I initially made fun on one gentleman in my head.  Needless to say that as I was eating my WolfGang Puck pizza I was shocked when he sat at the table beside me and started to talk to me.  I had a nice conversation with the gentleman and felt guilty for making fun of him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to ramble.  The point of this blog is simply that it is great that we are all connected as members of the human race.  We are all so completely diverse.   Things such as love, family, and self-improvement motivate us all to keep going.  I love the fact that we all seem to want to be our best according to our own personal belief system.  Diversity is a wonderful and beautiful thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7472111063392688178?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7472111063392688178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7472111063392688178' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7472111063392688178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7472111063392688178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/12/airports.html' title='Airports'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5171995643713334289</id><published>2010-12-22T21:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T21:16:23.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Break-So Far</title><content type='html'>School got out last Friday.  I am glad because I really, really needed a break.  Yet, my break really hasn't even started.  I've been working at the candy store a ton. Not that the candy store isn't every kids dream job.  All you can eat chocolate, delicious smells, and sometimes you even find yourself covered in chocolate.  But, I am simply tired of making truffles nonstop and only eating chocolate.  I find myself nibbling a treats I don't even love.  It is like I am just eating them to eat them.  I may never want to see a scale again after this week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side of thing I fly home in less than 48 hours.  I love my family.  I really do believe that my family gives me so much strength.  As I have gotten older I have begun to realize how important family really is.  I am blessed not only to associate with the best people on the planet, but to be related to them as well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do have a lot to be grateful for.  Life really is grand although I don't always see all the beauty it holds.  It takes talent to always pick out the best/good things in life and to not pay close attention to the negative.  Things don't always go my way and that irritates me a ton.  However, I believe I am being provided with the experiences I need to become the best person I am capable of becoming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5171995643713334289?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5171995643713334289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5171995643713334289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5171995643713334289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5171995643713334289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-break-so-far.html' title='My Break-So Far'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-763870624970487803</id><published>2010-12-14T14:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T09:26:30.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>I have the most amazing friends in the world! They have all taught me so much and helped me grow tons.  This is actually my last week living near my three very best friends (outside of my family).  So, in a week I will be taking applications for new best friends! (Joking....but seriously, call me if you wanna be BFFs.)  These friends have taught me so much.  I just want to list a few things I have learned from these amazing people:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Forgive!  I had already learned this lesson but I am a grudge holder.  I ex-friended one of my friends multiple times  However, I was lucky that this person always forgave me and was willing to deal with my crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Be your best self! It is okay to wear baggy clothes and not do your make-up every now and then.  One must realize that these occasions should be few.  My friends taught me how to love myself enough to care. Now, I try to look my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Be flexible!  I learned that it doesn't always matter what I am doing as long as I am spending time with the people I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Listen! Friendships are give and take.  I love how these people are always willing to listen to me and hold me when I need to be held.  It is just as great as a blessing to be able to listen to them.  I am glad they trust me enough to talk to me about life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Laugh often!  One thing I absolutely love about my friends is that we always laugh when we are around each other.  I don't think I have ever been around these people and not shared lots of laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Work Hard and Play Hard!  Life is all about balance.  I hated working hard to get everything done, but it was worth it to be able to be in the company of some of the best people in Rexburg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even think I could write all the things my friends taught me.  Some things are too personal and other things are so significant that they are not even measurable.  It will be hard watching these people move on with their lives.  I hope that we find a way to always be a part of each others lives no matter how many miles we live away from each other.  No matter how things turn out, these people have truly blessed my life.  I believe they are part of my life for a reason.  The scary part is not knowing for sure if this is the only season they will be part of my life.  Like I said earlier; I hope not.  But, I am a realist and know that things don't always happen or turn out the way you want them too.  So, Dear Friends: I love ya'll tons and Good Luck figuring out the rest of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-763870624970487803?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/763870624970487803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=763870624970487803' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/763870624970487803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/763870624970487803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/12/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6189445181589763715</id><published>2010-12-12T08:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T08:44:05.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It happens...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TQT7Qd3DgGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/AVWUu6ZhHeY/s1600/CIMG3642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TQT7Qd3DgGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/AVWUu6ZhHeY/s400/CIMG3642.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549836901139316834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving home from work last night on the highway when suddenly I felt myself loosing control of my vehicle.  It initially tried to slide into oncoming traffic.  Luckily, I was able to prevent that from happening.  I fishtailed between the two lanes for about 10-20 yards before I slid off the road.  I slid into a sign and now the back of my car is messed up.  I called some friends (I have the best friends in the world!) to come and get me.  Before they could even get there, some other guys pushed me back into the road.  The only damage that I can see is this dent and the back of my car is bowed out a little.  My truck doesn't seem to want to stay shut all the way either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I am thankful.  I am thankful I did not slide into oncoming traffic.   I am also really glad I had the sense not to yank my steering wheel and cause myself to flip.  Although it sucks that I have to get my car fixed because of the sign, I am glad it stopped me.  I don't think anything bad would have happened if it didn't, but you never know.  Anyways, that was my drive home from work last night.  I should have called in sick!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6189445181589763715?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6189445181589763715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6189445181589763715' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6189445181589763715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6189445181589763715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/12/it-happens.html' title='It happens...'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TQT7Qd3DgGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/AVWUu6ZhHeY/s72-c/CIMG3642.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1786639346721575197</id><published>2010-12-11T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T11:32:06.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Lessons</title><content type='html'>So, I am 26 years old.  You'd think I'd have life figured out by now, but figuring life out is a little harder than it sounds.  So if anyone would like to figure out my life for me, feel free to do so, but I wish you luck in that endeavor.  I have figured out a few things though.  So, here are 26 life lessons I've learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You can't "make" someone do something such as like you or fall in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;2. Life is about choices, choose wisely.&lt;br /&gt;3. Change is the only constant in life.&lt;br /&gt;4. Expect the impossible to actually happen.&lt;br /&gt;5. Plans don't always work out.&lt;br /&gt;6. Family is the most important thing in the world.&lt;br /&gt;7. Laughter can make a bad day better.&lt;br /&gt;8. Complaining never fixes anything, but it offers some relief.&lt;br /&gt;9. God knows best.&lt;br /&gt;10. Learn everything you can from your friends.&lt;br /&gt;11.  Sometimes it is a blessing when people walk out of your life.&lt;br /&gt;12. Don't be afraid to cry.&lt;br /&gt;13.  Tell people how you feel.  They can't read your mind.&lt;br /&gt;14. Treat your body how you want it to treat you.&lt;br /&gt;15. Chocolate and ice cream really do help when having a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;16.  Being a grown up isn't always fun, but you couldn't get me to relive my teenage years.&lt;br /&gt;17.  You never really grow out of awkwardness.&lt;br /&gt;18.  God has a hand in everything that happens in life.&lt;br /&gt;19. Love doesn't make people change.  Don't think your love can "save" someone from themselves.  They have to make the choice to change.  (See #1 and 2)&lt;br /&gt;20.  Books are one of the best creations ever.&lt;br /&gt;21.  If you need strength, go to the temple.  You will find it there.&lt;br /&gt;22. People will always surprise you, no matter how well you think you know them.&lt;br /&gt;23. Have an attitude of gratitude.&lt;br /&gt;24. Take time to look at the stars.&lt;br /&gt;25. When you love someone, tell them.&lt;br /&gt;26. Finally, as Dr. Seuss said, remember that "life's a great balancing act."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1786639346721575197?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1786639346721575197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1786639346721575197' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1786639346721575197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1786639346721575197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/12/life-lessons.html' title='Life Lessons'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-2464441600087427569</id><published>2010-11-14T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T14:11:24.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Things as They Really Are"</title><content type='html'>Go on, ask me how I am doing.  I will say Fine.  In the movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Italian Job&lt;/span&gt;, fine stands for freaked out, insecure, neurotic, and emotional.  That pretty much sums me up lately.  Anyways, I've had a talk by Elder Bednar on my mind a lot recently.  He gave a talk a few years back entitled, "Things as They Really Are."  In the talk he discussed reality and virtual reality. I don't think by any means I am addicted to virtual gaming.  However, the title of the talk really catches my attention.  How am I suppose to know how things really are?  Usually, I understand my perspective and think I understand other people's perspectives. However I realize that I could have the exact same experiences as someone else, but our realities could be completely different.  Vision in itself is a truly amazing thing.  From my understanding, we really don't see everything we think we see.  We see something, and our brains fill in the rest.  How do I even know I am seeing the exact same thing as the person beside me?  It is impossible to know.  Thus, I don't know if it is possible to really see "things as they really are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am going crazy or thinking about things too much.  I have had a ton on my mind lately and it feels like I have interpreted so many things in my life wrongly.  I hate being wrong.  However, I think one thing that is worse than being wrong is having no definite answer on rather you are right or wrong.  In short, it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the end of my little rant.  In short, life is good and I am fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-2464441600087427569?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/2464441600087427569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=2464441600087427569' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2464441600087427569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/2464441600087427569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-as-they-really-are.html' title='&quot;Things as They Really Are&quot;'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5974985007392039687</id><published>2010-11-08T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T22:46:42.064-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It goes on...</title><content type='html'>Life seems to be and endless struggle.  Yet, it is also filled with smiles, tickle fights, and experiences I'll never forget.  So, I got a little too courageous this weekend; I don't regret it.  I finally asked the boy I had liked for forever why he never took me on a date.  Although his answer was vague (something about "feelings"), I am totally okay with everything now.  I realized that in reality he was a bad idea anyways.  I am glad I am able to let that idea go and be open to new opportunities.  It is amazing how many opportunities we give up at times because we keep waiting for one particular opportunity. I am not going to lie, at first I was bitter, mad, frustrated, liberated, and a bit devastated.  Now, I feel more liberated than anything.  However,  part of me wishes things were different, but for the most part, I really am okay and I am over it.  So, I keep telling myself that. Now, my main concern is awkwardness.  I am probably the most awkward girl in the world and I don't even realize I am awkward until I reflect on different experiences. I know where to go from here, but at the same time, I am so stinking lost!  I look forward to seeing my sisters.  I know that they will have lots of insight for me. That is only 2 weeks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also know that I deserve somebody who can feel for me and fully appreciate me.  Thus, I am glad this little "crush" is over.  Because I know that somewhere, there is an amazing gentleman out there who is capable of making me so happy.  He might not be what I am looking for, but he will be exactly what I need. Until this young man comes into my life, I am going to live it up!  So, maybe I should thank ole boy for never taking me out.  He gave me the opportunity to explore so many other roads.  I am sure some of them will be rough, but if we didn't have rough roads in life how would we learn to appreciate the smooth ones?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5974985007392039687?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5974985007392039687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5974985007392039687' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5974985007392039687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5974985007392039687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/11/it-goes-on.html' title='It goes on...'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7399715732651000427</id><published>2010-10-30T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T12:45:25.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This thing called life...</title><content type='html'>Life is crazy.  I never know what to say or when to say the things I want to say.  It is hard to know what I will or won't regret until I take a certain action.  A lot of times, I feel like I am walking in the dark.  I don't like walking in the dark.  Life is too short to be filled with regrets, but how will I know what I will regret until after I have done or said something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I used to be a lot more confident in my decision making skills.  Now, I feel like I am the worst at making decisions.  I think I used to think more with my head and now I think more with my heart.  I hate that.  My heart allows me to hope for things when I shouldn't always hope for them.  It is my hope that life will magically work out.  It takes more than hoping to live a fulfilling life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been having a super hard time thinking about this semester coming to an end.  Two of my good friends will be graduating and leaving.  I have a fear of being alone when they move home.  The solution would be to make more friends now, but I don't want to.  I want to soak up every moment I can with these amazing friends before they leave.  The problem is, life happens and time flies.  Before you realize it, you are out of time and you haven't gotten all the things you wanted to accomplish accomplished.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my head it all boils down to priorities.  I understand that school and family should takes highest priority.  But, I would like to make it high up on other peoples priority list, especially when I make them high on my list.  Does that make me high maintenance?  I sometimes feel guilty for this having particular mindset.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my life. Don't get me wrong, I am happy, but I am also confused.  That doesn't make me happily confused.  I think it makes me more naive than anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7399715732651000427?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7399715732651000427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7399715732651000427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7399715732651000427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7399715732651000427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-thing-called-life.html' title='This thing called life...'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-353001291302302450</id><published>2010-10-26T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T20:48:41.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Life I Love</title><content type='html'>Life has been crazy busy for me.  I wake up, go to school, and then go to the library.  At last, I get to go home and go to bed.  However, I find myself extremely happy!  Why?  I really have no clue.  The boy I like doesn't like me back, I don't always get my way, school is overwhelming, and sometimes I feel like I am barely making it.  What can you do though?  Maybe, I have finally come to understand how to accept all the chaos and uncertainty life brings.  Maybe, I stay so busy that I have less time to think.  Maybe, I have chosen not to let other people's choices negatively affect me.  Maybe, I have learned that it is okay that I am not perfect.  Maybe, I am finally really okay with the way my life is turning out.  I don't know the cause, but I truly am happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my family back home a ton.  I am excited to see them all at Sandra's wedding.  I really am so happy for Sandra.  It will be fun to get to know Brent a little better when I go home.  I am excited to see all the kids when I go home as well.  Those little munchkins bring so much joy in my life.  I have to get enough love to last me at least a year every time I see those kids.  I have been doing a service practicum at a pre-school lately.  I have fallen in love with those little kids as well, even if they are bad...and I mean really, really bad!  I get to student teach next summer.  I really am excited to work with the kids.  I love them so much.  It is amazing how much joy those little squirts can bring into your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I am just living my life.  We had our first snow in Rexburg this week.  I am not excited about the winter, but it must come eventually.  I smile because I think this will be my last winter here in Rexburg.  However, I know I will miss this town so much.  I really am doing okay here.  I'll admit, I get homesick at times and wish I had my Charity here, but I have the most amazing friends in the world.  They have no clue how much they have positively influenced my life and sadly I am too prideful to let them know the full effect they have had on my life.  Yes, sometimes they make me so mad, but they are willing to deal with my crazy, and I love them for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my life...and I love it.  I only have short period of time left in this season of my life.  Soon, it will be time to move to another season.  It is scary not knowing what that season is or where it will for sure take place, but I trust that my Heavenly Father knows better than me.  It truly is comforting when you learn how to truly put your trust in him.  Honestly, I don't know how much I really trust him with my life, but I am learning how to trust him more and more everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-353001291302302450?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/353001291302302450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=353001291302302450' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/353001291302302450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/353001291302302450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/10/life-i-love.html' title='The Life I Love'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-463335181881919291</id><published>2010-10-02T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T21:55:23.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Facts</title><content type='html'>I wrote 26 things you might not know about me for my 26th birthday.  Now, I am just writing more random facts about me for the fun of it.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I love to star gaze and cuddle.  It would be amazing to do this as a date with someone I care about.&lt;br /&gt;2) Tootsie Roll pops rock my world.  I can successfully eat them without biting them most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;3) I often dream of falling in love and being loved in return.  When I wake up I am disappointed that my dream had to end.  In reality, I am not sure I will really ever find someone to fall in love with that will love me back.&lt;br /&gt;4)  I can't wait to have kids!  They are adorable.  I think being a woman is great. &lt;br /&gt;5) When no one is home, I run around in my undies or without clothes.&lt;br /&gt;6) Sometimes I cry for the most ridiculous reasons.&lt;br /&gt;7) I am paranoid and insecure.  I hope for the best and usually assume the worst.&lt;br /&gt;8) I love a good pedicure.  I feel like such a girl when my nails are actually done and look nice.&lt;br /&gt;9) Pizza is one of my favorite foods! &lt;br /&gt;10) I fear I might not be a successful teacher.&lt;br /&gt;11) I collect books.  I really do love them and try to read often.&lt;br /&gt;12) I care way to much about what other people think.&lt;br /&gt;13) The library may or may not be my official second home.&lt;br /&gt;14) I am shy.&lt;br /&gt;15) I have a ton of walls up.  When I get scared, paranoid, sad, feel vulnerable, or start feeling a little insecure I put up even more walls.&lt;br /&gt;16) Part of the reason I fear the unknown so much is because I fear failure so much.&lt;br /&gt;17) My family is the best.  They rock my world.&lt;br /&gt;18) If my life were a movie, it would be a comedy.&lt;br /&gt;19) I have a hard time using commas appropriately.&lt;br /&gt;20) I still wouldn't want to know if I had one more day to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 20 new facts about me.  Hope you enjoyed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-463335181881919291?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/463335181881919291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=463335181881919291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/463335181881919291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/463335181881919291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/10/more-facts.html' title='More Facts'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6396096042515518129</id><published>2010-09-25T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T18:09:48.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Sandra, With Love</title><content type='html'>I have been contemplating our phone conversation the other day.  You know, the one where you bluntly told me that I need to stop looking for the perfect man and start looking for the man that is perfect for me.  Here is my official response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is much easier to look for a perfect man.  Why?  Because perfect is easily defined:  attractive, strong (bulging  biceps and all), smart, ambitious, great kisser, potential to be a great father one day,  fun, outgoing, ability to love me even when I am crazy, loves sunsets and stargazing, clean, smells good all the time, makes me laugh, and can have intelligent arguments with me one minute and make me giggle like I am five the next.  I am sure I could add many, many more things to my list.  However, this is not addressing the issue.  I am absolutely positive there are very few, if any, men who are deserving of the title perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The issue is that I have no clue what the perfect man for me is like.  I cannot define him.  I don't think I can define him without getting to know him first.  Maybe I should take the time to get to know myself better as well.  Getting to know him and myself are both very scary things.  I don't want to take the chance to get to know him.  For taking that chance means chancing rejection.  I have had enough rejection to last me for a lifetime.  But even worse, what if as I get to know myself I find myself so flawed that I begin not to like myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, I think I will maintain my stance that I should be overly picky and look for the perfect guy.  It is easier and seems to be much less risky.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Always,&lt;br /&gt;Becky&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6396096042515518129?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6396096042515518129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6396096042515518129' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6396096042515518129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6396096042515518129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/09/dear-sandra-with-love.html' title='Dear Sandra, With Love'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-9013823315489760138</id><published>2010-09-11T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T22:26:14.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Where were you when the world stopped turning?"</title><content type='html'>Nine years ago our lives were forever changed.  It is crazy that time passes so quickly.  As I contemplate 9/11 I can't help but to wonder where the families of those who died that day are today.  Then, I think of the fallen soldiers that have been fighting for our rights.  It is so easy to take our lives and our rights for granted.  This is a day that I believe I will always solemnly remember that people continue to fight and perish so I can listen to my favorite radio station or pray to my God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, I never believed I would experience something as "big" as 9/11.  During elementary school I was prompted to ask the older generations about The Great Depression or Vietnam War.  My nieces, nephews, and other children will ask me about 9/11.  I will provide them with my story.  No one who was alive and old enough to remember will forget where they were on 9/11.  The nation's eyes were glued to the news coverage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my prayer that we remember those who lost their lives and continue to do so. I also hope that we will be able to share our story of 9/11 with future generations.  This is my plan!  Then I will boldly stand and say, "I'm proud to be an American!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-9013823315489760138?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/9013823315489760138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=9013823315489760138' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9013823315489760138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9013823315489760138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/09/where-were-you-when-world-stopped.html' title='&quot;Where were you when the world stopped turning?&quot;'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-652623609133311043</id><published>2010-09-10T21:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T21:39:11.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Armor, Flaws, and Testimony</title><content type='html'>My mind has been going crazy lately.  I feel as if I've had more changes than usual in my life.  It is crazy.  But the three things that have occupied my mind the most are armor, flaws, and testimony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Armor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I wear so much armor and I can't figure out why I protect myself so much.  Honestly, I feel as if I don't let people know the real me.  People usually only see the strong Becky, but I am a complete squish.  Really, I hate being tenderhearted, but my only other option is to be hardhearted.   I feel too much and show my feelings too little.  I don't want to keep people out, but I am too scared to really let them in.  This really is something I need to work on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Flaws&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I am so flawed.  I don't like not being perfect.  When I make a mistake, I feel so bad.  I am constantly recognizing things I could improve on, but it seems like I do little to improve.  This is difficult because I really do try.  I know I could be quieter and more tactful, but I fail every time I try to be these things.  I really am a shy person, so I don't know why I struggle with these things.  Maybe they are part of my armor.  I may never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Testimony&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Don't get me wrong, I know the church is true and I am loved by my Heavenly Father.  However, I feel as if my testimony could be so much stronger.  I really want to work on strengthening my testimony.  Not that it is weak, but I know it could be so much stronger.  I have truly felt Heavenly Father's love for me recently.  However, I often feel so inadequate and undeserving of such a pure love.  This isn't how I should be feeling.   It is comforting to know that I am not the only person who has ever felt this way.  There are multiple examples of prophets feeling the same way in the scriptures.  I also know that this isn't the way my Heavenly Father would want me to feel.  I really want to become perfect, even as his son Jesus Christ.  I know I can, but it isn't such an easy thing to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-652623609133311043?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/652623609133311043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=652623609133311043' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/652623609133311043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/652623609133311043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/09/armor-flaws-and-testimony.html' title='Armor, Flaws, and Testimony'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-4086486490119618927</id><published>2010-08-02T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T22:43:06.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Risks</title><content type='html'>It seems as if life is simply one big risk.  Really, everything we do is a risk.  When I drive somewhere I risk wrecking.  When I straighten my hair by the sink I risk being electrocuted.  When I am honest (or lie) we risk hurting other people.   Then there are the risks such as falling in love or putting yourself "out there." It is amazing how nothing in life is certain. There is a quote that I really enjoy that says something to the extent of, "The greatest risk in life is not to take risks." Although I really do love that quote, I don't understand how we cannot not take risks.  Yet, risks come is sizes.  You could rate them on a scale from one to ten.  Straightening my hair is probably a one while dropping out of school would be a seven or eight.  But then, what type of risk constitutes a ten.  I thought about "single" people issues such as  telling a boy you like him, but then I thought, that'd only be a three or four on the risk scale.  Sure, it's an emotional risk, but what's the worse that can happen?  Exactly, you don't end up with him and you soon find another boy to like.  So, if taking risks (and I should specify moral ones) defines an individual to point and is what life is all about, I am curious what a ten would be.  I love adrenaline rushes!  I even went skydiving last year, but I don't think that would even be a ten.  One thought crossed my mind that  having the courage to face each new day could be a ten.  Life is hard.  I think everyone has wanted to give up at some point.  You know, when you get to the point where you dread the next day because things could always get worse, but you also look forward to it because it could be a turning point where everything begins to get better.  I don't know if I am making any sense to ya'll or myself.  I honestly want to live everyday to the fullest, but it seems like in order to do that I have to take bigger risks.  It is hard to figure out what type of risks I want to take.  I really don't mind the physical risks.  The emotional risks are what will get me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-4086486490119618927?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/4086486490119618927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=4086486490119618927' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4086486490119618927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/4086486490119618927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/08/risks.html' title='Risks'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-9153404172757372766</id><published>2010-07-28T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T17:15:55.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TFDILdcnP7I/AAAAAAAAAT4/UpH7JQAlStM/s1600/CIMG3574.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TFDILdcnP7I/AAAAAAAAAT4/UpH7JQAlStM/s400/CIMG3574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499115244228132786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TFDIKu0a-gI/AAAAAAAAATw/5ADhBqsn7rg/s1600/CIMG3573.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TFDIKu0a-gI/AAAAAAAAATw/5ADhBqsn7rg/s400/CIMG3573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499115231711525378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am out of school for 7 weeks.  What's a girl to do when she has nothing to do?  The answer...Cook.  That's exactly what Megan and I did on Monday.  We made pineapple steak, potatoes, salad, rolls, and fun drinks.  We even set the table all kinds of cute.  Our only downfall was that we are grill incompetent.  It took us forever to figure out how to work the grill and get it lighted!  I wanted to show you guys how cute we are, so here's a picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-9153404172757372766?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/9153404172757372766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=9153404172757372766' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9153404172757372766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/9153404172757372766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/07/amazing-dinner.html' title='Amazing Dinner'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/TFDILdcnP7I/AAAAAAAAAT4/UpH7JQAlStM/s72-c/CIMG3574.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6115266862093654492</id><published>2010-07-07T08:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T09:02:19.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very Fun Weekend!</title><content type='html'>I love the 4th of July.  It is pretty much my favorite holiday.  Parades, sunshine, grilling out, ice cream, and fireworks--what more could a girl ask more? (Don't answer that question.)  My weekend was full of fun.  After work on Friday night, I went over a friend's house and played night games.  Saturday morning I went to the Rexburg parade.  It was so cold!  By cold, I mean 55 degrees and very windy.  The 4th of July is supposed to be warm, but it wasn't :(.  That wasn't going to be a day ruin-er for me though.  After the parade, I went to a bbq.  Grilled out foods are bomb.  That night, I ate with mom and Charity.  We went to the fireworks on the Snake River.  They were so beautiful.  There is something about fireworks that almost make me believe in magic, almost.  I feel as if I two again and all my dreams really will come true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, I spent the morning with Charity.  That evening was filled with a water fight, dinner, and (you guessed it) more fireworks.  These fireworks were unique though.  It was put on by a group in Idaho Falls who protested to keep the 4th on the 4th.  I felt as if I were at the Boston Tea Party.  The people were yelling and screaming because, "This is proof that one person could make a difference."  The fireworks weren't amazing, but they were fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I went swimming in a lake.  It was kind of chilly, but it was fun.  Everyone loves a relaxing day in the sun.  Monday night I went to a carnival and more fireworks.  They were right over my head and filled the sky as I laid under them.  It was nice.  Mom came with me Monday.  She is way cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do enjoy having mom in town.  I know she misses home and is so sad she isn't with all her grandchildren there.  It is such a blessing to have her out here.  Charity is really glad she is around too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a brief overview of my weekend.  In short, it was amazing!  I am so glad to live in this amazing country and for all the freedoms we enjoy.  We really are blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6115266862093654492?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6115266862093654492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6115266862093654492' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6115266862093654492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6115266862093654492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/07/very-fun-weekend.html' title='A Very Fun Weekend!'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-7606745504556407348</id><published>2010-06-16T08:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T09:05:29.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Student</title><content type='html'>I know, its been a while since I blogged.  I have a legit reason though, my life is boring.  Between school and work, I stay so busy!  It is no fun.  What can you do though?  So inspired by the movie and book, "Confessions of a Shopoholic", I thought I would write a blog entitled, "Confessions of a student."  I don't have much to confess, but here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't shower every day.  If I don't shower, I don't have to worry about blow drying my hair.  If my hair isn't done, is there really a point to putting on make-up?  So lets take 15 minutes for the shower and 30 minutes for the hair and make-up and voila, I get to sleep in an extra 45 minutes.  Then if I don't look good, I can't go play.  This gives me an extra hour for homework or a nap during the day.  Yes, I have thought the whole "no shower" thing through this much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love, I mean really LOVE, sleep.  Sleep is one of my favorite things.  I find myself sleeping whenever I can.  Something about school makes me sleepy.  Naptime during class should be mandatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a texter.  I made a goal one day to not text in class or while driving.  I failed.  Is it really my fault if I don't find the teacher engaging enough to keep my attention?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My diet is horrible.  There is no balance.  I get lots of bread and very little of everything else.  Is there a way to balance it?  Eating good takes time.  Whenever I buy fresh produce, it goes bad before I have time to eat it.  My meals are usually on the go.  Crackers, carrots, and P&amp;amp;B sandwiches keep me full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, instead of studying I stare at a blank computer screen.  Often, this is more stimulating than studying.  Then I ask, "Can I drop out of school?"  Lame.  I actually make a list of pros and cons of dropping out.  Even before I make the list, I know I will not drop out.  However, this keeps me from studying.  I wonder how much time is wasted making my little lists.  Ironically, a lot of times the pros of dropping out outweigh the cons.  What am I doing with my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is time to do laundry when I run out of underwear.  Laundry takes so long;  an hour in the wash then another hour to dry!  This doesn't include the time it takes to put away the laundry.  I can't leave it unfolded.  My OCD creeps up on me.  But yes, I will wear the same clothes over and over again, until I run out of undies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, those are a few of my lame confessions.  My life is pretty boring.  Most of the time, I have to make things sound much more exciting than they really are.  One thing that is kind of pathetic is that I have to look for a guy to force myself to have a crush on.  Crushes make life exciting because you wonder if they like you back.  The problem is, I have to find a guy that I can care if he likes me back or not.  No need for to me to exaggerate how lame and pathetic my life can be though.  Wish me luck with life!  Until next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-7606745504556407348?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/7606745504556407348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=7606745504556407348' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7606745504556407348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/7606745504556407348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/06/confessions-of-student.html' title='Confessions of a Student'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-926093599736968469</id><published>2010-05-31T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T10:06:51.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day</title><content type='html'>I absolutely, positively love America.  Honestly, I don't know if it is because it is the land I was born in or if is the land of opportunity.  Today, Memorial Day, not only marks the beginning of summer, it is a day of remembrance.  It is difficult not to remember the fallen soldiers who have taken and stand and have diligently fought for what they  believe in.  These brave men and women have helped paved the way for us to enjoy so many things that others are not blessed enough to enjoy.  There is a quote that states something like this, "How fortunate we are to live in a country where happiness is more than absence of tragedy."  Hopefully, we will all remember this when life gets a little bit harder than we wish it were.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-926093599736968469?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/926093599736968469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=926093599736968469' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/926093599736968469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/926093599736968469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/05/memorial-day.html' title='Memorial Day'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-309709586754254353</id><published>2010-05-28T07:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T08:24:48.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Birthday!</title><content type='html'>I had a birthday celebration yesterday, and it was pretty much amazing!  I started celebrating on my birthday eve.  My roommates and I went to get late night ice cream.  We had a fun car ride filled with music from various musicals and Disney movies.  We initially went to Wendy's, but they had closed.  It was off to Dairy Queen we went.  I was so excited!  Everything was birthday eve stuff.  I had birthday eve ice cream and water.  My order number was 45.  I was so out of it.  This kid asked me if I was 45 and I replied, "Almost."  He was talking about my number, not my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S__eTZYkSgI/AAAAAAAAATg/tuzPwly7778/s1600/CIMG3428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S__eTZYkSgI/AAAAAAAAATg/tuzPwly7778/s400/CIMG3428.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476340096718621186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S__eS-0sHBI/AAAAAAAAATY/0cQW4dixK40/s1600/CIMG3422.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a crazy Dairy Queen trip, I went to pick up some papers from our guy friends.  They took forever printing them off.  It was fun playing with those kids for a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S__eT4tlAJI/AAAAAAAAATo/su_zAy7mRVQ/s1600/CIMG3435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S__eT4tlAJI/AAAAAAAAATo/su_zAy7mRVQ/s400/CIMG3435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476340105128247442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it home!  How else do you bring in a birthday besides a dance party?  We all (roommates and I) put on fun dresses and danced until midnight.  At midnight we toasted 26 years of Becky's life with sparkling cider.  It was definitely a fun night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up on my birthday to a door decorated with balloons and ribbons.  When I walked into the living area to thank my roommates for such a pleasant surprise, I found it was filled with balloons and ribbons as well.  I loved it and could not stop smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to go to school.  I wasn't skipping.  After class, I went to work on a project, but the girl that I was working on it with and I could not figure it out. Charity had invited me to go to the temple with her, so I went.  It was nice. The ladies at the temple were so funny.  I am glad that Charity invited me.  What a great way to show thanks for life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the temple, Charity took me to get a cupcake from the CoCo Bean.  I love their cupcakes.  We just hung out and played together until I took a little birthday nap and then headed off to a group.  After my group, Rob taught me how to ride his motorcycle.  I love it!  I want a motorcycle so badly now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After learning how to ride a bike, Charity took me to dinner at Craigo's.  She planned a surprise party for me with my favorite people there.  I loved it.  For ya'll who know about  my farmville addiction, one of my friends got me a farmiville gift certificate, along with yummy chocolates.  Gotta love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, it was off to my apartment for cake and ice cream.  Earlier in the day, Charity and I made funfetti cupcakes colored orange and pink.  We swirled the colors together and they turned out beautiful.  We played and laughed at my apartment.  It was a fun night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really did have a great day.  It was crazy, fun, and busy.  I couldn't have asked for a better birthday.  Charity has more pictures from my actual birthday.  When I get them on my computer, I will post more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-309709586754254353?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/309709586754254353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=309709586754254353' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/309709586754254353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/309709586754254353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/05/birthday.html' title='The Birthday!'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S__eTZYkSgI/AAAAAAAAATg/tuzPwly7778/s72-c/CIMG3428.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-1171848161173620778</id><published>2010-05-26T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T08:23:30.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>26 Things You May Not Know About Becky</title><content type='html'>Last year I wrote 25 things I was grateful for on my birthday.  This year, you get to learn 26 things you might not know about me to celebrate my birthday.  I am sure you will know a lot of it already because I am a pretty open person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I love raw pasta.&lt;br /&gt;2) Dance parties with my roommates rock my socks.&lt;br /&gt;3) If I could be an animal, I'd be a monkey.&lt;br /&gt;4) I don't know everything...yes, I know that's a shocker.&lt;br /&gt;5) My favorite candy bar (you can get at any store) is Twix.&lt;br /&gt;6) I love plaid.&lt;br /&gt;7) Sometimes I randomly buy men's neck ties.&lt;br /&gt;8) The Millionaire Match Maker (a t.v. show) is one of my guilty pleasures.&lt;br /&gt;9) I rely on spell check way too much, my real spelling kind of stinks.&lt;br /&gt;10) I secretly like doing art, even if I'm not that great at it.&lt;br /&gt;11) I use shower crayons to write and draw in the shower.&lt;br /&gt;12) I am somewhat OCD.&lt;br /&gt;13) Ryan Reynolds may or may not be the most attractive actor out there.&lt;br /&gt;14) I don't like wearing clothes if I am at home.&lt;br /&gt;15) I love Dr. Pepper and drink it often, even though I say I don't drink carbonated beverages.&lt;br /&gt;16) I think grilling out should be a man's job...and the woman's job is to eat the medium rare steak he cooks for her.&lt;br /&gt;17) I'm a procrastinator.&lt;br /&gt;18) When I get bored in class, I use my laptop to do online shopping.&lt;br /&gt;19) Sometimes I let myself believe in fairy tales.&lt;br /&gt;20) When making s'mores, I purposely burn my marshmallows.&lt;br /&gt;21) I have a crush on Micheal Scott and Dwight Shrute.&lt;br /&gt;22) I google random things...like mail order husbands.&lt;br /&gt;23) I can watch chick flicks 24/7.  They make me want to dream.  Yes, I'm a hopeless romantic.&lt;br /&gt;24) I don't think their are many people out there who really know me as a person.&lt;br /&gt;25) I wouldn't want to know if I only had one day left to live.&lt;br /&gt;26) I enjoy making people feel awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for my one to grow on...The park may be my favorite place on the face of the Earth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you learned something new about me.  Enjoy the day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-1171848161173620778?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/1171848161173620778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=1171848161173620778' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1171848161173620778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/1171848161173620778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/05/26-things-you-may-not-know-about-becky.html' title='26 Things You May Not Know About Becky'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-6051304213370688380</id><published>2010-05-25T23:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T23:52:41.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The 25th Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S_zFLEpzaTI/AAAAAAAAATQ/GNX2uJLaYoQ/s1600/CIMG3412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 323px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S_zFLEpzaTI/AAAAAAAAATQ/GNX2uJLaYoQ/s400/CIMG3412.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475468040993990962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to believe that my 25th year of life will be ending in less than 24 hours.  I am mildly depressed that so much of my life has passed by and I haven't accomplished the things I feel as if I should have accomplished by now.  I wonder what my self 10 years ago would have said if she could see me now.  Would I be proud of myself or wonder where my life has went?  Life is truly a growing experience.  Although I don't feel like it, I am sure I have grown a lot over the past year.  I finished another year of school and even had some fun along the way.  Although I am not blessed enough to have a family of my own, I am blessed with a wonderful family and many beautiful nieces and nephews.  I really do love kids.  I struggle with the fact that I may not have the opportunity to become a mother (Although, I still feel it could happen.)  It is a blessing to have Mike and Amy's kids near and to interact with kids at elementary schools.  If I never have kids, I will be able to love my students as my own.  Part of me believes I choose to major in Elementary Education so I could for sure always be around children.  They are delightful...except when they're not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 26th year probably holds some pretty exciting adventures in it as well.  It will be fun to face them.  This is my last year in Idaho.  I will not lie, I am excited to leave but I will miss Idaho a lot (not that I have a desire to stay here).  I have grown a lot here and I feel like I have spent a lot of time here discovering myself.  I don't know if we ever "really" know ourselves.  We are constantly changing.  As soon as we think we have it all figured out, we realize how clueless we are.  I know I am starting to ramble, but I felt as if I needed to write one more blog as a 25 year old.  Half my twenties are over!  Goodbye 25 and welcome new experiences with 26.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-6051304213370688380?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/6051304213370688380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=6051304213370688380' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6051304213370688380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/6051304213370688380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/05/25th-year.html' title='The 25th Year'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S_zFLEpzaTI/AAAAAAAAATQ/GNX2uJLaYoQ/s72-c/CIMG3412.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8473020613629959612</id><published>2010-05-24T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T09:08:14.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Much Am I Worth?</title><content type='html'>This is an article I found on line.  I was first introduced to a chart that showed this information in my anatomy class.  Anyways, if you are ever feeling down about yourself or life, this will just make you feel worse.  Nonetheless, we can still take comfort that we are made out of stardust!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great number of people have spent a great deal of human and&lt;br /&gt;financial resources calculating the composition of, prior to the&lt;br /&gt;decomposition of, and the worth, or worthlessness of, the human body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we total the monetary value of the elements in our bodies and the&lt;br /&gt;value of the average person's skin, we arrive at a net worth of $4.50!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This value is, however, subject to change, due to stock market&lt;br /&gt;fluctuations. Since the studies leading to this conclusion were&lt;br /&gt;conducted by the U.S. and by Japan respectively, it might be wise to&lt;br /&gt;consult the New York Stock Exchange and the Nikkei Index before&lt;br /&gt;deciding when to sell!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The U.S. Bureau of Chemistry and Soils invested many a hard-earned tax&lt;br /&gt;dollar in calculating the chemical and mineral composition of the&lt;br /&gt;human body, which breaks down as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65% Oxygen (yes, we are mostly hot air)&lt;br /&gt;18% Carbon&lt;br /&gt;10% Hydrogen&lt;br /&gt;3% Nitrogen&lt;br /&gt;1.5% Calcium&lt;br /&gt;1% Phosphorous&lt;br /&gt;0.35% Potassium&lt;br /&gt;0.25% Sulfur&lt;br /&gt;0.15% Sodium&lt;br /&gt;0.15% Chlorine&lt;br /&gt;0.05% Magnesium&lt;br /&gt;0.0004% Iron&lt;br /&gt;0.00004% Iodine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Additionally, it was discovered that our bodies contain trace&lt;br /&gt;quantities of fluorine, silicon, manganese, zinc, copper, aluminum,&lt;br /&gt;and arsenic. Together, all of the above amounts to less than one&lt;br /&gt;dollar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our most valuable asset is our skin, which the Japanese invested their&lt;br /&gt;time and money in measuring. The method the Imperial State Institute&lt;br /&gt;for Nutrition at Tokyo developed for measuring the amount of a&lt;br /&gt;person's skin is to take a naked person, and to apply a strong, thin&lt;br /&gt;paper to every surface of his body. After the paper dries, they&lt;br /&gt;carefully remove it, cut it into small pieces, and painstakingly total&lt;br /&gt;the person's measurements. Cut and dried, the average person is the&lt;br /&gt;proud owner of fourteen to eighteen square feet of skin, with the&lt;br /&gt;variables in this figure being height, weight, and breast size. Basing&lt;br /&gt;the skin's value on the selling price of cowhide, which is&lt;br /&gt;approximately $.25 per square foot, the value of an average person's&lt;br /&gt;skin is about $3.50.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8473020613629959612?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8473020613629959612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8473020613629959612' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8473020613629959612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8473020613629959612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-much-am-i-worth.html' title='How Much Am I Worth?'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-5894525758829176217</id><published>2010-05-09T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T08:10:08.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Take It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S-eeODSi72I/AAAAAAAAATI/SPeH-o2XXH4/s1600/Feb+2009+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S-eeODSi72I/AAAAAAAAATI/SPeH-o2XXH4/s400/Feb+2009+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469514236703207266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have a year left at BYU-Idaho.  I will confess that I am stoked.  Yet, my life hasn't turned out quite how I imagined it would.  I even have a dream board full of dreams that were suppose to be coming true by this point in my life.  I am almost 26 years old.  Surely by this time in my life prince charming was supposed to have found me and we should be on our way to eternal bliss.  Yet, here I am, single and wondering if this prince will ever come and find me.  I remember a guy friend saying a while ago that he imagined finding a girl and being some sort of hero by saving her.  I think some people view saving as some heroic act, yet it would be nice for a guy to come into my life and save me from myself.  At times, I feel like I can be quite the narcissist and not even realize it.  Yes, I'll admit, I want the whole marriage thing.  I would like to find my best friend and spend everyday for eternity with him. (Or he could find me.)  Still, I feel as if I have a ton of walls up and it will take a bulldozer to knock them down.  Not only do I want a best friend to come home to, I want someone to cuddle whenever and to take care of and they take care of me.  Growing up, I had three main qualities I'd like in a husband, and I am still sure I want just those three.  The three are:&lt;br /&gt;1) He makes me happy and can make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;2) He makes me want to be a better person.&lt;br /&gt;3) He honors his priesthood.&lt;br /&gt;Really, is that too much to ask for?  (I will admit, each quality has subcategories, such as physical attraction and ambition.) I think if me and this person ever meet, it will be worth the wait, but it is super hard to be patient.  One this person finds me (or I find him) I know eternities could never be enough time for me to spend with him.  It will be fun growing in so many ways with this person.  Until then though, I guess I'll just be "wishin and hopin and thinkin and dreamin each night of his charms."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-5894525758829176217?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/5894525758829176217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=5894525758829176217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5894525758829176217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/5894525758829176217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/05/ill-take-it.html' title='I&apos;ll Take It'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/S-eeODSi72I/AAAAAAAAATI/SPeH-o2XXH4/s72-c/Feb+2009+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6194076044160971616.post-8333679306086923279</id><published>2010-05-09T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T21:19:18.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom</title><content type='html'>I will not lie, I have been easily influenced by many people in my life.  Sometimes, it is for the best, and sometimes it isn't.  Out of all the people that have had any influence on my life, my mom is at the top of the list.  I love my mom so much.  She is a magnificent lady, even if she doesn't recognize.  It is hard to see that she doesn't always realize her talents and potential.  My mom is one of the people in my life that let me know it is okay to dream.  I am sure everyone's mom told them they could be anything they wanted when they "grew up."  I am still growing up and I still believe my mom when she tells me I can be anything I want to be when I "grow up."  Mom is also a great person to talk to most of the time.  She always wants to solve our problems for us.  I think it is because she is such a nurturer.  She is also one of the best people in the world to snuggle up to.  I live far away from my mom, so I don't get to snuggle with her often, but I love it when I do.  It is very intimidating for me to know that if I get the chance to be a mother, I have such high expectations to live up to.  I am not saying I want to do everything as she did,  but I am saying she performed, and continues to perform, the job of motherhood well.  She is one of the elite women in the world that is worthy of the name, "Mother."  I love you mom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6194076044160971616-8333679306086923279?l=rebekahdiane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/feeds/8333679306086923279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6194076044160971616&amp;postID=8333679306086923279' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8333679306086923279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6194076044160971616/posts/default/8333679306086923279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rebekahdiane.blogspot.com/2010/05/mom.html' title='Mom'/><author><name>Beke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14425557029670488238</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oC8mQFkJBCk/SRxo3vuq_7I/AAAAAAAAAGw/e1OttqvGIPw/S220/Syd%27s+new+piercing+007.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
