<?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-18495665</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:03:59.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unknown Path</title><subtitle type='html'>The story of life after college but before the real world: grad school</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-115522584398419843</id><published>2006-08-10T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T09:04:04.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty</title><content type='html'>So I have this blog, right and usually when I have a thought I share it.  Lately though, I have not had too much to share, but I feel like I have to write a blog.  This isn't what a blog is for, to make you write something because you feel guilty.  What is this world coming to? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I am here I guess I will report something.  There is a distinct smell around our coffee bar/kitchen area up at work.  Someone said a drain was backed up.  Apparently someone poured bleach to try and get rid of the smell; they failed.  I sure hope my lunch doesn't smell like sewage and bleach, gross.  Maybe I will go out for lunch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-115522584398419843?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/115522584398419843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=115522584398419843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115522584398419843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115522584398419843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/08/guilty.html' title='Guilty'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-115448920583604266</id><published>2006-08-01T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T20:26:45.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why didn't I . . .</title><content type='html'>The older I get the more I realize what I don't know, what I should have done, and wonder why the world sucks.  How do you fix things in the past?  I guess you can't.  How do you let go of regrets?    I wish there was a public box sort of like a confession but instead of telling things you had done, you told things you wish you would have done and let someone else take the burden.  Hmm . . . I guess there is someone for that.  But why am I constantly reminded of things I wished I would have done.  No one purposely wants to live in the past, sometimes it just happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To repeat my good friend Marcos, "Whoa".  I can't live like Unlce Rico.  I must move on and trust that everything happens for a reason.  It's weird to think that one small decision can make a huge impact on your life.  (That one was for you Ros). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't change the past, but I can mold the future.  That is what I have to do.  Learn from the past to help the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-115448920583604266?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/115448920583604266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=115448920583604266' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115448920583604266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115448920583604266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/08/why-didnt-i.html' title='Why didn&apos;t I . . .'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-115221571285227725</id><published>2006-07-06T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T12:55:12.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Man's Land</title><content type='html'>Sixth Grade&lt;br /&gt;Teenager&lt;br /&gt;Training bra&lt;br /&gt;Driver's Permit&lt;br /&gt;First Date&lt;br /&gt;Bad Haircut&lt;br /&gt;TWENTY-SOMETHING&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do all of these things have in common? They are all awkward instances where you or it must grow up, in, out to not be in an in between stage or No man's land (for those of you who follow tennis).  Currently I fall under the twenty-something category which I want to preface goes beyond age it encompasses graduating, jobs, friends, relationships, etc.  This age is filled with awkward, unstable, frustrating situations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I am asking for is a little stability.  I don't need to know where I will be in 5 years (ok that would be great to know) but I just want something stable.  What is that you ask?  I don't know what kind of stability I want.  Is it friendships?  Luckily I was blessed with amazing friends.  Is it a permanent place to live?  Possibly.  A dating relationship?  Could be.  A firm direction of where my life should go?  That would be nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever you TWENTY-SOMETHINGS need, I hope you find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Listening to: Girl Next Door - Saving Jane&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-115221571285227725?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/115221571285227725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=115221571285227725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115221571285227725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115221571285227725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/07/no-mans-land.html' title='No Man&apos;s Land'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-115039309815847040</id><published>2006-06-15T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T10:38:18.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Real World (RW)</title><content type='html'>Quickly, I have started my internship which is in Austin, TX at the State Auditor's Office.  I am definitely getting a taste of the real world. I like it so far.  Austin is a cool place to stay except, the traffic is not so great but what can you do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately I have to work everyday, seriously, but again what can you do?  I am actually looking forward to one more year of graduate school and a flexible schedule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well thats all for now . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-115039309815847040?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/115039309815847040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=115039309815847040' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115039309815847040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/115039309815847040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/06/real-world-rw.html' title='The Real World (RW)'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-114720994465690664</id><published>2006-05-09T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T14:28:06.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a difference a day, point, grade makes.</title><content type='html'>An A is an A is an A.&lt;br /&gt;A B is a B is a B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An 80 is a B just like an 88 is a B.&lt;br /&gt;A 90 is an A just like a 98 is an A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy will I be relieved when my performance is not based on grades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked extremely hard this semester to end up with well one B for sure. That SUCKS. I have worked harder than I ever did in undergrad. Oh well, I guess. Such is life. Hopefully the hard work I have done in my other three classes will reward me with As. Only time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily only one more year and its over. No more grades.   At a job I will be measured for the work I do. Hmm . . . that sounds like a grading system. Nah, surely not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-114720994465690664?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/114720994465690664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=114720994465690664' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114720994465690664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114720994465690664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-difference-day-point-grade-makes.html' title='What a difference a day, point, grade makes.'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-114677296399959440</id><published>2006-05-04T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T13:02:44.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY.</title><content type='html'>Why are we here?&lt;br /&gt;Why do we meet the people we meet?&lt;br /&gt;Why are some people given to us and others taken away?&lt;br /&gt;Why do we feel the way we do?&lt;br /&gt;Why do we get happy, sad, nervous, depressed?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have the friends I have?&lt;br /&gt;Why was I blessed in the ways I was blessed?&lt;br /&gt;Why was I born with food and shelter?&lt;br /&gt;Why am I in grad school?&lt;br /&gt;What is my purpose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These thoughts are not near as good as the blog I wrote the other day and then lost before I could post it, yet they serve the same purpose.  They help me express the emotions I am feeling.  They help me to let out the stress I bottle up.  Take note there are many more questions I want to ask and still more answers I would like to receive.  You would think the older you get the more answers you would receive.  Funny thing though, the older I get the more questions I have and the less answers I get.  I guess growing up opens your perspective to the world around you which consequently opens up more issues and more questions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I do not know why there are currently genocides occurring in Africa, sex trafficking occurring in all of Asia, Europe, and the Americas, and war occurring in the Middle East, I do know that there is something more.  There has to be something more.  I believe people who want more will find it, whether it be a friend, a soulmate, a job, a house, or a purpose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep looking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-114677296399959440?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/114677296399959440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=114677296399959440' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114677296399959440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114677296399959440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/05/why.html' title='WHY.'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-114565575510615276</id><published>2006-04-21T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T14:42:35.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting . . .</title><content type='html'>At the moment I am working on a paper . . . yes I know many of you are suprised.  I am starting to wonder if homework will always be apart of my life.  It is sure starting to seem like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I was in my bathroom just a minute ago and noticed something interesting.  In my shower caddy (for those of you who don't know, mine is the wall to tub kind) every basket is full.  I begin thinking, I wonder what I will do when I get married?  Will I have to cut down on products? No that won't work.  Will I have to keep some items in the cabinet?  I would prefer not to do that either.  Hmm . . . maybe I will marry a low maintenance guy who uses only 2-in-1 shampoo and a razor.  I think I have room for those two things!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-114565575510615276?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/114565575510615276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=114565575510615276' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114565575510615276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114565575510615276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/04/interesting.html' title='Interesting . . .'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-114537715904248456</id><published>2006-04-18T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T09:19:19.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One More Year</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe I have almost completed my first year of grad school.  It has gone by slow (first semester) and fast (second semester).  However, I have quite a few tests and papers to complete before I am finished. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer I will be working at a location and place that has yet to be determined.  I am excited about this opportunity.  Hopefully during this summer I will also get to visit some of my best friends: Ky and MB in particular.  If my internship is paid, I will definitely get to do some traveling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all right now.  I must go study for a public finance test (get excited)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-114537715904248456?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/114537715904248456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=114537715904248456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114537715904248456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114537715904248456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/04/one-more-year.html' title='One More Year'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-114487428073192486</id><published>2006-04-12T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T13:38:00.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day To Be in Oxford</title><content type='html'>Wow, it has been a long time since I have made an entry.  Well today will be short.  All I have to say is this: today is a day I wish I was in Oxford.  No troubles, no problems (for the most part), and no real life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can almost feel the wind on my face just as if I was jogging around in Summertown.  What I would not give to be back there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-114487428073192486?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/114487428073192486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=114487428073192486' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114487428073192486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114487428073192486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/04/day-to-be-in-oxford.html' title='A Day To Be in Oxford'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-114193524411514539</id><published>2006-03-09T11:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T12:14:04.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Look</title><content type='html'>Wow, it has been a month since I wrote anything,  I have been quite busy lately.  Anyway I decided to change my blog to a more summery look. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, school is going ok.  I am extremely glad it is spring break next week!  I need a break.  Depsite the difficulties of school, I actually think my skills are improving.  This knowledge makes going to class and doing the work easier and more worthwhile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides spring break, my only other concern is obtaining an internship for the summer.  I have applied to several places, but I have not heard back yet.  I would like to be in Washington, D.C., so hopefully that will work out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-114193524411514539?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/114193524411514539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=114193524411514539' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114193524411514539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/114193524411514539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/03/new-look.html' title='New Look'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113925206769074302</id><published>2006-02-06T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T10:54:29.540-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time and Money</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Two things we never have enough of. This semester I am trying to make effective use of my time. So far so good, minus a few slipups. Money on the other hand seems to disappear. It is weird really. I think I need to buy stock in HEB or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny, we go to school (pay money) to get a job so that we can earn money and then our job takes up our valuable time. We go to school (use time) to get a job so that we can do cool things with our time, but we don't have much time because we have a job. The older I get the more important it seems to me to have a job that I like doing because regardless of what it is, I will spend most of my time doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this to say, if I have to be somewhere else than Texas to have a job I like and hopefully free time I can spend, I guess that is what I will have to do.&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/18495665-113925206769074302?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113925206769074302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113925206769074302' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113925206769074302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113925206769074302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/02/time-and-money.html' title='Time and Money'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113872223055669688</id><published>2006-01-31T07:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T07:44:21.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrong side of the bed</title><content type='html'>Don't you hate waking up on the wrong side of the bed? I do. In fact today was one of those days for about three reasons: 1. I woke up later than expected because I have lost my portable alarm clock (if you know me you know how much I like that clock). And I was supposed to read some articles this morning and obviously that didn't get done. 2. I am wearing track pants and a t-shirt which sometimes just makes you feel gross (especially during a certain time). 3. Finally on the way to school I ran into a train (not literally but at a light) and to make matters worse I decided to take a, what I thought was a shortcut, and then realized that my school is across the railroad tracks and no matter what shortcut I take I still have to get past the stupid train. So I ended up sitting through some lights and then I was late for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I wish I could go back to bed. Oh well I guess some days are just like this. I am going to have to put on my big girl panties and deal with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113872223055669688?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113872223055669688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113872223055669688' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113872223055669688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113872223055669688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/01/wrong-side-of-bed.html' title='Wrong side of the bed'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113820324952058650</id><published>2006-01-25T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T07:34:09.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting Back</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had a pop quiz that was in essence a blank sheet of paper with one question at the top? I hadn't . . . until today. That's grad school for you. Read five articles and then have pop quiz with one question to see if you read every article. Seriously? I guess this will help later on, sometime. As for now I am stuck taking classes that I sort of like, but do not yet know how they will help me in the specific job I will end up getting. Thank goodness this program is only two years. I am ready to get out there and get a job. At least that is what I say now, I am sure when the time comes I will want to stay in school. The grass always looks greener on the other side!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113820324952058650?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113820324952058650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113820324952058650' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113820324952058650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113820324952058650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/01/starting-back.html' title='Starting Back'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113712872195463988</id><published>2006-01-12T20:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T11:12:21.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that Help Me Unwind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/1600/james%20blunt.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/320/james%20blunt.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't he dreamy? I may not can see, touch, or talk to him, but never fear, I can listen to James Blunt twenty four hours a day! Girls, get ready he has a U.S. tour coming up! Thanks to my friends and editors of The Rolling Stones (Eric and Kylie Lyons), I have gained a greater appreciation for music. What would I do without my ipod?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/1600/seinfeld.1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/320/seinfeld.1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Number two on my list of things that destress me if of course, you guessed it: Many episodes of Seinfeld! I know that you all don't share my insane obsession for Seinfeld, but don't worry we can still be friends. I mean this show is just so dadgum funny! You can't help but laugh. Sure some parts are a bit stupid, but most of the time these things could happen to anyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/1600/godiva.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/320/godiva.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmm . . . chocolate! I am a lover of chocolate whether it be chocolate cookies, chocolate cake, chocolate candy, chocolate creme brulee, chocolate fudge. I love the stuff! My new favs include dark chocolate with raspberries or oranges or mint! And of course, though not related to the cocoa bean, I like white chocolate (that one is for you MB!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/1600/whitecosmo.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/320/whitecosmo.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, no need to panic, I only use this vice on occasion! What is better than sitting around with the ones you love and having a drink?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/1600/big%20ben.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/200/big%20ben.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/1600/london%20bridge.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/200/london%20bridge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite things to think about LONDON! Well actually most anywhere in Europe. I love to travel! Sometimes I get out my Oxford Scrapbooks and just reminisce. It's pathetic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/1600/girls.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1467/1757/320/girls.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the number one thing that makes me happy is all of my friends! If it wasn't for them I could go crazy. They make me laugh, hug me when I am sad, listen to me when I vent, and they give me great advice. They are amazing! God truly blessed me with them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113712872195463988?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113712872195463988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113712872195463988' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113712872195463988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113712872195463988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/01/things-that-help-me-unwind.html' title='Things that Help Me Unwind'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113700942434924192</id><published>2006-01-11T11:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T11:57:04.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I am not doing so well on my new year resolution.  Currently I am getting ready to send off my summer internship application which is accompanied by butterflies in my stomach.  I really want to get this position, so I am nervous about it.  However, now that I have acknowledged my worry maybe I can give it up to God.  That is what I am shooting for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, not much else is happening.  I do want to second MB's blog that "Boys suck".  Most of them anyway.  I would also like to add the comment "People suck".  Most of them anyway.  You know, if you work in a service industry you need to be nice, especially if the customer is nice to you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I do want to leave all of you going through major life changes with this thought:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep doubts, deep wisdom; small doubts, little wisdom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;                                                                                         -Chinese Proverb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113700942434924192?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113700942434924192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113700942434924192' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113700942434924192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113700942434924192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/01/so-i-am-not-doing-so-well-on-my-new.html' title=''/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113634988586677459</id><published>2006-01-03T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T20:44:45.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I just can't care anymore</title><content type='html'>I realized today that if I could in some nice way eliminate those that cause me pain, grief, and ulcers, my life would run much smoother. The funny thing is the people I am talking about are in my family! Why is it that families often give each other the most trouble. Not to say that I wouldn't be on someone else's elimination list because I am not guilt-free by any means. But why is it that friends and family tend to give us pain. On the other hand though maybe it is me. Maybe I am the one who worries too much. Maybe I need to just let go. Ok, though I am not a new year's resolution maker, this could be an exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;New year's resolution: Worry about myself, not others. Do not dwell on things, let them go. Confront the person I have a problem with rather than gossip with everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If you are reading this, could you please keep me accountable? I would appreciate it. I have enough to worry about in my own life as it is. We humans are funny. We tend to dwell on our problems instead of fix them and tell everyone but the person with whom we have our problem. In this respect maybe it would be better to act like animals. It seems they either get over their issues or kill each other. Hmm . . . ok maybe we humans can do better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113634988586677459?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113634988586677459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113634988586677459' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113634988586677459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113634988586677459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-just-cant-care-anymore.html' title='I just can&apos;t care anymore'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113461461871073240</id><published>2005-12-14T18:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T07:00:18.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One semester down, three to go</title><content type='html'>Well I survived. I am officially finished with my first semester of grad school. Looking back I enjoyed it, for the most part. I definitely worked harder this semester than any other semester in college. On the positive side, I am learning how to write, read, and communicate better. On the negative side I am not much closer to knowing what I want to do when I grow up. Law school, CPA, non-profit organization, who knows?! At least I have some time. That is one thing about being single and 23, I have time to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. However, that is also one of the downers to being single and 23, I do not know who or when I will start the rest of my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, I am going to Dimmit, Tx this weekend to be in one of my best friends wedding. I am excited for her. She has found her prince charming. Ahh, so fairytale-like. Though I am perfectly fine being single, it is refreshing when people find their soul mates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113461461871073240?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113461461871073240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113461461871073240' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113461461871073240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113461461871073240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/12/one-semester-down-three-to-go.html' title='One semester down, three to go'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113319498549980111</id><published>2005-11-28T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T13:00:56.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Beyond Borders</title><content type='html'>Lately I have been thinking a lot about the internship I have to do next summer and what job I might want to take when I graduate. When I graduate from grad school, I will have a degree in accounting and a master in public administration. Unless I go to law school (I know I know, I cannot seem to get away from school), I think I want to work at a non profit organization dealing with human trafficking. I am hoping to do my internship in Washington, D.C. next summer. I am excited about that. So I was thinking that I might find a job in D.C. or New York City after I graduate. I don't know. There are many options. I just do not know which to pick. One thing I do know, however, is that I want to do something that I have a passion for and that I would love doing. All jobs have their ups and down, you might as well pick one you like doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113319498549980111?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113319498549980111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113319498549980111' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113319498549980111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113319498549980111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/11/going-beyond-borders.html' title='Going Beyond Borders'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113215633039317653</id><published>2005-11-16T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T19:42:38.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Overwhelmed to an extent</title><content type='html'>Between now and the time I leave for the Christmas holidays, I have 4 papers due, 3 tests, and 2 presentations. Wow. It may seem like a lot of work and partly it is, but partly it is my fault that some of it is not complete. Well at least I am learning. Grad school is definitely more work than undergrad, although looking back on undergrad, I could have pushed myself more. Live and learn I guess. I do have 4 weeks to recover before the next semester, so I cannot complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much else going on in the great city of College Station. I bet this place is like a ghost town during the holidays. Too bad I won't get to find out! Haha. I know we haven't even had Thanksgiving, but because all of the stores have Christmas decorations up and Christmas candies on the shelves, it is hard not to get pulled in. Christmas is however, one of my favorite holidays. Not because of the presents, though those are nice, but because everyone come together in merriment. That was one thing I did not like about college, everyone went home (myself included) during the Christmas holidays. Nonetheless, Christmas is still one of my favorite holidays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113215633039317653?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113215633039317653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113215633039317653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113215633039317653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113215633039317653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/11/overwhelmed-to-extent.html' title='Overwhelmed to an extent'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113155354519805208</id><published>2005-11-09T08:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T17:05:44.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Men of 2005</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Today, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I just want to comment on guys here in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: arial;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;College   Station&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;.  Based on my observations, I have developed a theory of guys of 2005.  I have used the rec center several times these past few months and of course noticed the guys there.  Besides the normal weight lifting and cardio activities I normally see guys doing, I have seen them do an additional workout that you mostly only see girls do: the ab workout.  These boys seem more obsessed with their ad muscles than us girls.  It is strange.  Along with this observation I have noticed that guys in general seem more preoccupied with their appearance than girls.  So I ask: What happened to the "real man"?  Where are the guys who like to play sports, go hunting, work on their car, fix stuff, and eat whatever they please?  (Granted in these days everyone must for the sake of their health watch what they eat.)  But where are the real men? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cosmo had a fascinating article in November's issue about the guys of 2oo5 and the guys of 1995.  The guys are '95 were in their mid-20s wearing suits, had jobs, and sought goals.  The boys of '05 are still in school, live at home, and are waiting for the "right" job to come along.  The article went on to say that '95 guys were more risk-adverse and willing to take a job at the bottom and work up.  Where as, the guys of '05 have been told all of their lives that they could do anything.  Therefore, they are waiting for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: arial;"&gt;the &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;job, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: arial;"&gt;the &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;relationship (to commit to), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: arial;"&gt;the &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;life goal, etc.  On the upside the article does say that these boys will grow up and realize they may have to take a lower level job first in order to get their dream job; they will also soon realize that they do have goals and ambition and ultimately want to share that will someone.  So girls, there is hope.  It may take some time, but there is hope.  The &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;real man&lt;/span&gt; does exist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113155354519805208?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113155354519805208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113155354519805208' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113155354519805208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113155354519805208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/11/men-of-2005.html' title='The Men of 2005'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113155307154497462</id><published>2005-11-09T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T08:17:51.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How old am I?</title><content type='html'>Oringially I was going to start out this thought for the day concerning men/boys/guys whatever they are called at our age.  However I feel the need to bring some attention to my memory today.  I am sitting in class unable to get on yahoo messenger and talk to Linds and MB, so I began writing an email to tell them something; however, by the time I realized I had to use email I had forgotten what I was going to say!  Unfortunately it does not stop there, I thought of something to tell Tara and the same thing happened.  I am only 23, what is happening to me?  I also just had a mug full of coffee.  This is weird.  Oh well maybe I will invest in a memory book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113155307154497462?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113155307154497462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113155307154497462' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113155307154497462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113155307154497462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/11/how-old-am-i.html' title='How old am I?'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113137794059580489</id><published>2005-11-07T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T07:39:00.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here and Now</title><content type='html'>Right now, I am in class listening to a lecture. This class though not supposed to be all lecture has definitely turned into that. Today's lecture is on "Key Characteristics of the Budgeting Process". Sounds interesting doesn't it. Usually I take notes, but not today. I figured I should be allowed one skip day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So life here at the Bush School is going ok. Yesterday we (1st and 2nd year students at Bush School) got to have a Q&amp;A with Bush 41 (Bush Sr.). It was really cool. We sat in an auditorium and he sat in a chair right there in front of us! That is one of the perks of being here at the Bush School. I have been thinking lately (yes I seem to do that a lot here) and I am really ok with being here. Though scared out of my wits, I think I might actually use this degree after all. Even scarier I think I might use this degree in Washington, D.C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whoa.  That's a surprise.  Well I was watching this mini-series on Lifetime last weekend called &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Human Trafficking&lt;/span&gt;. This of course is right up my alley of interests. So I began thinking that maybe I want to go to D.C. and maybe lobby for this cause or work for an organization for this cause. My passion on this topic isn't new, but this career choice is. I don't know for sure, that is just something I am thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, well I guess I should go. Oh yeah one new cool thing: Camille, one of my best friends from college got engaged last weekend! Yea for her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113137794059580489?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113137794059580489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113137794059580489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113137794059580489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113137794059580489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/11/here-and-now.html' title='Here and Now'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113105799126575759</id><published>2005-11-03T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T14:46:31.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>So, I just got some good advice from a friend. It was about something I have given much thought to these past couple of months. Ironically what she said to me was something that had crossed my mind just last night. But hearing her say it turned on the light. As I have said before I don't really know why I am here. This is obviously not what I want to do, I guess. I mean you can't go through life wandering what things would have been like on the other side. As we all know the grass always looks greener on the other side (sorry I know it's a cliche, but it's true). So from the point forward I have decided to quit my complaining and make the most of my time here. I may not know exactly what my purpose here is, but do we ever really know? I came here so I would not have any regrets. From now on I will not look back to see what could have happened, I will only look forward to see what &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113105799126575759?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113105799126575759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113105799126575759' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113105799126575759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113105799126575759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/11/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113088085629684867</id><published>2005-11-01T13:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T13:34:16.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>So I am sitting here supposedly working on statistics homework; however I felt the need the computer seemed more enticing . . . So I just finished talking with a friend about life issues and I am wondering why do some people have their life figured out at age 4 and some not until age 40? Why do some people graduate college and head straight for the path to their dream job? When do you know what your dream job is? Why do some people find that special person at 16 and some 56? What is the logic to all of this? I guess I am asking heavy and loaded questions that could essentially pertain to any situation. I mean one could ask why some people suffer more than others, why do some people have excess amounts of food and other no food at all. But still I feel the need to ask why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, I have no earthy idea of why I am here. I know that "God has a bigger plan" or so the saying goes, but when will I find out? I guess "in His time" another common saying. It is just hard to grasp this concept. However, in the meantime I guess I will have to take hold of what I have and run with it. Maybe that is what I am supposed to do all along . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113088085629684867?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113088085629684867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113088085629684867' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113088085629684867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113088085629684867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/11/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18495665.post-113077641551835799</id><published>2005-10-31T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T13:04:40.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I am . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am sitting in class, with my laptop, which is so cool because if you get bored, you can search the internet, check your email, etc. Let me back up a bit. I graduated last May from ACU with an accounting degree. However, last spring I had decided I didn't want to pursue accounting, so I started looking for something else. I found the George Bush School of Governement and Public Service, a part of Texas A&amp;M University. I applied, got in, and I that is where I am today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to start one of these every popular venues mainly so that when peoplel asked me what I was doing and how I liked it, I could tell them to read my blog. So here it is, I am getting a Master's of Public Service and Administration. What will I do with this? I have no idea. That is another reason to start a blog, maybe by writing out what I am doing, thinking, feeling, I will discover this. How do I like being in College Station and the Bush School?  Well I won't go into too much detail, but grad school is hard and at times not interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depsite these factors, the only thing I know is that I am here for a reason. I don't know the reason yet and I may never know, but I thought keeps me going. Well class is ending. More next time . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18495665-113077641551835799?l=beccalt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/feeds/113077641551835799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18495665&amp;postID=113077641551835799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113077641551835799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18495665/posts/default/113077641551835799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beccalt.blogspot.com/2005/10/where-i-am.html' title='Where I am . . .'/><author><name>beccalt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04261542187999640846</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
