<?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-8306469578044978052</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:08:24.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Not- So Rookie Reporter</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-7311054647609356334</id><published>2010-05-30T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T09:07:51.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Is The Last Time You Laughed Really Hard?</title><content type='html'>A simple question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you laughed so hard, so hard that tears started streaming from your eyes, or your stomach hurt after laughing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had one of those moments this weekend and it made me start to think... when was the last time I laughed this hard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="500" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sipdtynegX8&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sipdtynegX8&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been forever! Okay not forever, but maybe at least almost two years. Sad? Maybe... but I realized that sometimes we get so caught up with work, and daily stresses that we forget to laugh, we forget to enjoy life, take a deep breath, or just giggle at our mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flies by so quickly, minutes turn into hours, days, and weeks, and next thing you know you are sitting there asking when is the last time I laughed really hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is me taking a deep breath, and happy that Manny Diaz made me laugh!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-7311054647609356334?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/7311054647609356334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-is-last-time-you-laughed-really.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7311054647609356334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7311054647609356334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-is-last-time-you-laughed-really.html' title='When Is The Last Time You Laughed Really Hard?'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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-8306469578044978052.post-3269831563182000009</id><published>2010-04-25T11:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T11:40:00.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My "Oopsy" Moment On Air</title><content type='html'>We all have our "oopsy" moments on air, if we didn't then there wouldn't be blooper shows!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, I've had my moments, but somehow, someway, I slipped and changed the vowel in the word six!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the background info!&lt;br /&gt;My show was running a little heavy (meaning I was running out of time) I had about 10 seconds coming out of commercial break to say goodbye and close the show. So I tried to get everything in by talking fast and that is when the wrong word came out!&lt;br /&gt;I tried to recover and move on but the look on my cameraman's face, I knew what I said and couldn't hold my composure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at my "oopsy" moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0_FTnkSdqiY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0_FTnkSdqiY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-3269831563182000009?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/3269831563182000009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-oopsy-moment-on-air.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/3269831563182000009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/3269831563182000009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-oopsy-moment-on-air.html' title='My &quot;Oopsy&quot; Moment On Air'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-1041343722144348014</id><published>2010-03-31T15:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T15:37:07.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ronald McDonald Is Missing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S7PMTRs3nQI/AAAAAAAAAJE/PXgDpyjdWn0/s1600/Ron+mc+Don.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S7PMTRs3nQI/AAAAAAAAAJE/PXgDpyjdWn0/s320/Ron+mc+Don.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454928205216980226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you watch KRBC News, you know that Ronald McDonald has been taken from Safety City!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you aren't sure what he looks like, that's my amateur sketch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the police report Ronald was taken from Safety City sometime between Friday and Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who could've taken him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The King (Burger King) did steal the McMuffin Recipe recently.. hmmmm.. kind of sketchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No all kidding aside, the statue is valued at $5,000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have any information you are asked to call crime stoppers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let me know who could have taken Ronald McDonald!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-1041343722144348014?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/1041343722144348014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/03/ronald-mcdonald-is-missing.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1041343722144348014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1041343722144348014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/03/ronald-mcdonald-is-missing.html' title='Ronald McDonald Is Missing!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S7PMTRs3nQI/AAAAAAAAAJE/PXgDpyjdWn0/s72-c/Ron+mc+Don.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-6991886533506363920</id><published>2010-02-28T12:56:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T21:22:08.745-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How One DWI Crash Led Another Drunk Driver Right Into The Hands Of Police!</title><content type='html'>First, the police department, fire departments, and emergency personnel need to know that we appreciate them. They are constantly risking their lives to make ours safer. A BIG thanks from all of us :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there is nothing, I mean nothing, some of us hate more than being on-call during the night. Not a big deal for some, but as a woman heading to shootings, or stabbings, even accidents in remote locations can be pretty scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brave it out and I've gone to plenty of the above, I've been scared and nervous, but this time I froze in fear, just for a few seconds, then I knew I had to get my camera rolling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now some of you might think I'm a chicken, I could be-- but here is how my night went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little before midnight or so, I hear a 10-50 major go over scanner, meaning a major accident. Then they said rollover and something along the lines of a 10-55 meaning drunk driver. (Besides hating being on-call, I also dislike drunk drivers!) I head out to 277 and Bishop, guy rolls truck over, girlfriend is hurt, he tries to make excuses, he gets arrested, she is sent to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back at work around 12:45 and I hear 10-50 major, South 14th and Ross Ave. Dispatch says, driver attempting to leave the scene. I get my gear once again and head back out. One driver had the yellow blinking lights, the suspected drunk failed to stop for his blinking red, hit the vehicle, driver hits the windshield BUT is OK :)End of story!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I pack my gear up, I hear a car rattling and speeding towards the crash scene. Then everything went slow motion for me. One officer is yelling at us, I couldn't hear what he was saying, but right away I knew, I needed to get out of the way. I froze! I froze, just like a deer in the headlights of this oncoming car. One cop near me starts to move over, then I notice the car coming towards us was driving on his rim. Get this, three wheels! Anyways, as the loud noise and car get closer I'm thinking, this isn't good. He wont be able to stop, he'll hit the patrol car and that will hit the cars involved in the crash and here I am in the middle of it. I felt my heart stop, I really didn't know how the next few minutes of my life were going to turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But lucky for me, officers had it all under control! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The car then slowed down, two officers surrounded the car, they pulled out their guns, they were probably unsure who the driver was, why he was speeding towards us with a missing tire, and of course they had to be cautious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, after witnessing officers take action so quickly, and ensuring no one else was hurt in this crash scene, I felt relieved to have a police department that put their lives at risk to make sure the rest of us are safe. (Again, thank you!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is how this drunk driver drove right into the hands of the Abilene Police Department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take A Look At The Video!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bigcountryhomepage.com/content/fulltext/?cid=222551"&gt;3-Tire Driver Rolls Up To Crash Scene, Goes To Jail&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-6991886533506363920?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/6991886533506363920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-one-dwi-crash-led-another-drunk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6991886533506363920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6991886533506363920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-one-dwi-crash-led-another-drunk.html' title='How One DWI Crash Led Another Drunk Driver Right Into The Hands Of Police!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-55569525612857194</id><published>2010-02-16T18:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T20:11:02.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Facebook For A Week.. Easy Right? Wrong!</title><content type='html'>For those of you who've decided to take part in that thing called "social networking," you know that once you are "hooked" it's hard to imagine your life with out it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe it was my constant status updates that made my boss put me up to the challenge of going 5 days without Facebook. Hard? No! Easy? Definitely not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how exactly did I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I am not going to lie I was a little stressed out. Maybe I am just weird but I hate having an icon on my phone whether it's the little Facebook symbol, or the little envelopes, or the voice mail icon. It bothers me! Therefore, having all these Facebook notifications on my phone were very frustrating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit it... I log on Facebook at work.&lt;br /&gt;I do use Facebook for work purposes not just for my own personal use. I have sources that will shoot me a Facebook email me or message me on Facebook chat letting me know what's going on. Even the first day, I had logged on to say that I wasn't going to be able to get on Facebook for 5 days, one of my sources sent me a message before I could finish updating my status!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I also have family in Colombia, South America and in Switzerland, Facebook is a way for me to communicate with them since I can't afford the long distance phone calls! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, like many of you,I have reconnected with old friends from high school, middle school, even from my kindergarten days!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facebook also gives me the opportunity to meet some of our KRBC viewers!&lt;br /&gt;Will I ever go without Facebook again? Nope, at least not willingly! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could you make it with facebook for a week? What about other websites or technology that we didn't have 15-20 years ago?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-55569525612857194?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/55569525612857194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-facebook-for-week-easy-right-wrong.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/55569525612857194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/55569525612857194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-facebook-for-week-easy-right-wrong.html' title='No Facebook For A Week.. Easy Right? Wrong!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-7718621404917662867</id><published>2010-01-29T09:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T13:19:14.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MLK Bridge ALL Icy- No Wonder There Were Wrecks!</title><content type='html'>Got to love days when you get called in at 4 a.m. to cover weather issues!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning it was absolutely freezing out! And after yesterday's rainfall, we knew the roads would get icy, you would think everyone else would realize that too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in this case, for the most part, I don't blame the drivers. Maybe they were traveling at high speeds, but in their defense MLK Bridge was absolutely icy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we heard so many wrecks occurring on the bridge, we headed over there to get video. Police had closed off the eastbound lanes of the bridge, so as we walked across it, we were slipping and sliding, I even ice skated with my rain boots! (not kidding)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although luckily- there weren't serious injuries, about 6 or so cars were involved. One woman was really startled over her crash. &lt;br /&gt;From what I understand it was a chain reaction and the more cars that attempted to cross the icy bridge, the more cars got involved with the wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who's fault?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would think TXDot needed to be out treating the bridges, we all knew yesterday's rainfall, mixed with today's temperatures would make it icy for drivers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the officers at the scene even said, something along the lines like "I had to call TXDot myself to get them to come out here!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been warning drivers, residents, and city officials about these conditions for days, hopefully next time roads, highways, and bridges will be treated, and maybe sweet Esmeralda wouldn't of gotten in a crash, along with the 6 or 7 others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-7718621404917662867?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/7718621404917662867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/01/mlk-bridge-all-icy-no-wonder-there-were.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7718621404917662867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7718621404917662867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/01/mlk-bridge-all-icy-no-wonder-there-were.html' title='MLK Bridge ALL Icy- No Wonder There Were Wrecks!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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-8306469578044978052.post-4332431692642811760</id><published>2010-01-18T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T07:34:51.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Close The Door When You Go To The Bathroom!</title><content type='html'>On Friday, we decided to head to the movies. We watched Lovely Bones (by the way it was great!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to use the restroom in the middle of the movie, so I got up and went to the bathroom. I walked in and turned to my right to hit the first stall, but to my surprise there was a lady sitting on the toilet seat going about her own business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked! This is definitely not something I am use to seeing! Why not just close the bathroom stall!? It's a public restroom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am just a private person, especially when it comes to using the restroom, but do people not care? I understand if you are in the locker room of a gym and changing, but when you are going to the bathroom for a number one or two, don't you think you should be respectful and close the stall door?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-4332431692642811760?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/4332431692642811760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/01/please-close-door-when-you-go-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/4332431692642811760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/4332431692642811760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/01/please-close-door-when-you-go-to.html' title='Please Close The Door When You Go To The Bathroom!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-6028577055246806134</id><published>2010-01-14T13:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T16:03:49.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ghost and Spirits didn't bother me... Until...</title><content type='html'>After booking a room at the Driskill on 6th Street and Brazos in Austin, we did a little research (see December Blog) It was HAUNTED!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were so excited to stay there that when we got there we were amazed at the size and beauty of it!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-IetruQaI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/x13PH6ZBslA/s1600-h/DSCN0073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-IetruQaI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/x13PH6ZBslA/s320/DSCN0073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426706137245172130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So here is the full story!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We checked in and were given our room key (429 in the historic wing) she said the rooms just have the last two digits so you are room 29 on the fourth floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we are taking the elevator up, it was of course creaking because the hotel was so old but we joked around about it. We got to our room, and at the time we didn't remember which room was the haunted one, so I said, I think we are directly below the haunted room! (thinking the haunted room was 529) We continued to joke but I felt like a heavy presence, it was a little tough to breath, so then I decided to pull out my blackberry to double check. I read several different articles, and they said one committed suicide on the 5th floor, another on the fourth... room.... &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-Jvu2VjxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/nkJ0n-EmTro/s1600-h/DSCN0068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-Jvu2VjxI/AAAAAAAAAIY/nkJ0n-EmTro/s320/DSCN0068.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426707529127530258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;29!!!! WHAT?! (some reports say Room 29 others Room 27) My heart started to pound, I told John, I think we are in the room!! And he didn't believe me, so we continued to look at more and more articles and we come to find out, we were in the room where a bride to be committed suicide! We weren't at all scared so we decided to stay and not change rooms. We decided to go out to 6th street but stopped at the front desk to ask about the "hauntings." And we were given a piece of paper with the all hauntings. The article mentioned about the fourth and fifth floor suicides, so I had to ask with out telling them what room we were in. And the employee said, you guys can check those floors out but it's room 29, and there are people already staying there so please don't disturb them. (uh.. YEAH.. those people were us!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to get a little nervous every time John would leave me in the room by myself, but nothing happened. At one point we turned the shower on and decided to be silly.&lt;br /&gt;Yes.. redruM!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-LbXQC3wI/AAAAAAAAAIg/FDzTmOSlUVg/s1600-h/DSCN0122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-LbXQC3wI/AAAAAAAAAIg/FDzTmOSlUVg/s320/DSCN0122.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426709378218778370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that night we went out on 6th street, had a great time, we even took a horse and carriage ride to the Capitol Building. We took these pictures before heading out...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-NIuYbsII/AAAAAAAAAIo/Q_qdAbKinIY/s1600-h/FSCN0174.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-NIuYbsII/AAAAAAAAAIo/Q_qdAbKinIY/s320/FSCN0174.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426711257033715842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-NJlwoBxI/AAAAAAAAAIw/aWacmi1w-qE/s1600-h/FSCN0153.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-NJlwoBxI/AAAAAAAAAIw/aWacmi1w-qE/s320/FSCN0153.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426711271899137810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-OKCZOUQI/AAAAAAAAAI4/sVaHniVm9Uw/s1600-h/DSCN0155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-OKCZOUQI/AAAAAAAAAI4/sVaHniVm9Uw/s320/DSCN0155.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426712379097239810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT... THIS ONE CREEPED US OUT!&lt;br /&gt;You can see right through John!! (this photo has not been edited, and we tried to reenact it several times but it wouldn't do the same thing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day we woke up early took a walk to the shopping district which we didn't realize how far it was! Got back to the room and got ready for dinner at Ruth Chris Steak House, we headed back to the room to relax and then go back out to 6th street, but we were so full from Ruth Chris we stayed in. John stepped out for a minute, and left me in the room, it was dark and instantly I felt cold, but I was laying on my side, when I felt my pillow inflate by my neck. I froze!! I couldn't move, I honestly was about to start crying, and I kept thinking don't look, don't move, John hurry! I was so scared!! As soon as I heard john open the room door i screamed TURN THE LIGHTS ON!! My stomach was turned upside down from the nerves and how scared I was, I didn't feel good for the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we then decided to call it a night, and I tossed and turned all night, I felt like someone was in the room with us and but no one was around. Then I woke up to really old music playing in our room I got scared again but I couldn't budge or move or call for John to wake up. But I fell asleep, woke up again no music. Kept tossing and turning, and woke up again, music was playing, again I was frozen, (john was sleeping) then the music turned off. I ended up getting a little bit of sleep at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time, I will not be joking around about a haunted place because sooner or later, I know I will be spooked! BUT I will stay at the Driskill over and over again, it was a great hotel/experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you stayed at the Driskill?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here are some pics of our trip!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width: 400px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w78.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w78.photobucket.com/albums/j95/babybear46/A%20Haunted%20Experience/819e6710.pbw" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s78.photobucket.com/albums/j95/babybear46/A%20Haunted%20Experience/?action=view&amp;amp;current=819e6710.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And here is more info on the Haunting:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ghost called the "Houston Bride" is the tragic tale of sorrow after the woman's fiance called off wedding plans at the last moment, in the 1990's. The woman stayed in room 29 and helped herself to her fiance's credit cards. She went on a shopping spree, and was last seen on the elevator of the fourth floor with arms full of packages. Three days later her body was discovered. She had committed suicide by shooting herself in the stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late one night, two women who wanted to see a ghost decided to stop on the fourth floor and look around. The fourth floor was undergoing restoration and the halls were lined with plastic. They decided it was not a good idea to wander around and returned to the elevator. A young woman stepped out with her arms full of bags and packages. She walked past them without a word and headed to room 29. The women asked her if the restoration bothered her and she replied that it was not bothering her. The next morning the clerk showed them the room, which had been taken apart for the restoration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Also Check Out: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://driskillhotel.com/"&gt;The Driskill&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/408619/haunted_driskill_hotel_in_austin_tx.html"&gt;Haunted Driskill Hotel in Austin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hauntedtexas.com/index.php?option=com_k2&amp;amp;view=item&amp;amp;id=29:the-driskill-hotel-austin-texas&amp;amp;Itemid=39"&gt;HauntedTexas.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-6028577055246806134?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/6028577055246806134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/01/ghost-and-spirits-didnt-bother-me-until.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6028577055246806134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6028577055246806134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2010/01/ghost-and-spirits-didnt-bother-me-until.html' title='Ghost and Spirits didn&apos;t bother me... Until...'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/S0-IetruQaI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/x13PH6ZBslA/s72-c/DSCN0073.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-214488284643809565</id><published>2009-12-22T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T10:09:16.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Write The Caption!!</title><content type='html'>This morning I got the chance to fill-in for Megan Dobbs on Abilene Today and I thought I'd have a little fun with Chris Whited and did this screen shot of him and I talking at the end of the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You guys write the caption...&lt;br /&gt;What could Chris be saying to me, and what am I thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SzDcrCDAcLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/MT5DnP5O5iA/s1600-h/MORNING+SHOW.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SzDcrCDAcLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/MT5DnP5O5iA/s320/MORNING+SHOW.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418072983568674994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-214488284643809565?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/214488284643809565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-morning-i-got-chance-to-fill-in.html#comment-form' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/214488284643809565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/214488284643809565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-morning-i-got-chance-to-fill-in.html' title='You Write The Caption!!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SzDcrCDAcLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/MT5DnP5O5iA/s72-c/MORNING+SHOW.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-4619731019339087810</id><published>2009-12-20T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T23:09:42.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Haunted Hotels Don't Scare Me!</title><content type='html'>I'm heading to Austin in a couple of weeks and I'm so excited! I've never been, so when booking our hotel, I really didn't know which one was going to be the nice one, and close to the capitol, restaurants, and shops so I randomly googled... saw the Driskill, thought this is nice and booked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't take time to look anywhere else so we were both crossing our fingers we weren't going to a bedbug hotel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/Sy8erk7cq3I/AAAAAAAAAHg/VmogjRiOLuM/s1600-h/driskill.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/Sy8erk7cq3I/AAAAAAAAAHg/VmogjRiOLuM/s320/driskill.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417582610746223474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we did our research.... it is one of the most haunted places in the US!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought no way, I've seen Unsolved Mysteries, I've seen Ghost Haunting, I've seen the Most Haunted Places show... no way am I going to spend my weekend seeing, hearing, or imagining ghosts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then the excitement kicked in! I watch all those shows because I find it intriguing! I do believe in spirits, and I think to a certain extent some aren't at peace and still roam? maybe? I don't know, but as I am typing this I'm sounding crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not sure if this has to do with anything, but the night after we booked this hotel, I was talking to one of my co-workers from our sister station and I was telling her how cool it was and that I wasn't really scared but more excited about my trip.&lt;br /&gt;And I was... until I went to bed that evening and started dreaming and maybe feeling spirits? (again, I might sound crazzzzyy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I went to bed, I felt as if someone was throwing something at my face, I kept jolting back and opening my eyes but nothing or no one was there and then I felt something hit my eyelashes, again nothing was around so I just fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Then I had a dream. (side note-my grandfather died almost 3 months ago, and he was my second father) My dream was about him, and he came to me and finally told me he was proud of me, he said he never understand all I had to go through to get to where I am today, but now he does know, and he is proud. I woke up thinking, wow, he finally said it to me and I truly believe that it was him coming through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next night. I tossed and turned all night, I wasn't felling too well, just kind of an anxious feeling... anyways, when I finally fell asleep.. when I hear a big bang, I jump up and look towards my window and one side of my blinds unhooked itself and fell. Creepppy! The next couple of night, same feeling as if someone was there but no one was. Anyways, I don't think this has to do with booking the hotel at all but talking about ghosts and spirits definitely has kicked my paranoia up a notch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the hotel...&lt;br /&gt;HERE ARE JUST A FEW OF THE DRISKILL'S HAUNTINGS (from HauntedTexas.com)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Colonel Driskill himself is said to wander through the original side of the hotel. His ghost is marked by the smell of cigar smoke and a fascination with bathroom lights.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;* The spirit of a young child bouncing a ball haunts the first floor lobby, the ladies bathroom on the second floor near the bar, and along the stairs leading to the mezzanine. In 1887, while the Texas Senate was in session, the daughter of a Senator fell to her death while chasing a ball down the grand staircase. Her death was the first at the hotel. Within a week she was back running around and playing. Her spirit is also the first recorded ghost at the Driskill.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Singer Annie Lennox and her band, the Eurythmics, enjoyed more than just "sweet dreams" during a stay in the 1980s. In her room before a show she laid out two dresses on the bed. Unable to decide which to wear, she decided to take a shower. After nearly 45 minutes of primping, she stepped out of the bathroom to discover only one dress left lying on the bed. The other was hung up nicely in the closet! Taking the recommendation of her visitor, she wore the dress on the bed. What's even more interesting is that her room was locked, and she was the only one with the key. Also, she had not yet unpacked, and the closet was completely empty except for the dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* During a conference held by IBM, a man returned to his room to find that his bathroom was full of steam, as though someone had taken a shower. The pad of paper next to the phone had been moved and was covered with illegible scribbling. Only a few years later, in 1998, the exact same haunting was reported by a couple staying in same room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* In the first floor lobby, usually in and around the elevators, can be seen P.J. Lawless. Lawless was a ticket agent for the International Great Northern Railroad (later merging into the Missouri Pacific Railroad -- the MoPac Austinites know today.) Perhaps unable to get out of his lease, he actually lived in the Driskill for about 31 years, even while it was closed and between owners. He is easily spotted amongst guests due to his early 20th century ticket taker's uniform and is known to check his railorad watch as though still tracking phantom trains! Lawless will look at and acknowledge the living, unlike other spirits who don't seem to be aware of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Room 525, which in 1998 re-opened after years of unuse, is one of the hubs of ghostly activity in guest rooms. For years the Driskill staff had closed the room and used it as storage. The doorway leading into the bathroom had been bricked up due to an Austin urban legend known as the "suicide brides." This legend claims that two women had committed suicide in that bathroom 20 years apart to the day. This is far from confirmed. Although a woman is known to have ended her life on the 4th floor, room 525 is one floor up and had already been closed off by then. The exact history of 525 may never be known, since the room's closing predates all current staff members. When reconstruction forced the re-opening in 1998, many strange things happened. The room needed to be painted four times, as the walls kept peeling. An air conditioning vent that was left lying on the floor blew cold air. When it was moved the blowing stopped. One of the workers described an unusual but distinct humming in his chest upon entering the bathroom. When the brick was torn down, the bathtub was full of crystal clear water. The faucet was not dripping, the floor was dry, and that room had been closed off for years!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say I'm not scared but the moment we get there I bet I wont be able to sleep! I'll be too paranoid and with every little noise I hear, I will probably scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you believe in Ghosts? Have you stayed at the Driskill? Any advice before I head down to Austin?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-4619731019339087810?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/4619731019339087810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/12/haunted-hotels-dont-scare-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/4619731019339087810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/4619731019339087810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/12/haunted-hotels-dont-scare-me.html' title='Haunted Hotels Don&apos;t Scare Me!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/Sy8erk7cq3I/AAAAAAAAAHg/VmogjRiOLuM/s72-c/driskill.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-1712975710899609846</id><published>2009-11-23T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T16:37:28.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scratch Off Ticket Saves The Day!</title><content type='html'>This is such a silly story, but here goes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Night I am at work producing my newscast, when Coach Sandifer from Wylie High School came by to talk to our sports guys. He made me aware that my tire was really low. I went outside and the tire was low enough to have me questioning whether I could make it to the gas station and fill it up or if I needed to change the spare. So I asked a friend what his thoughts were, so he came up to the station to help out. He said I could probably make it to the gas station and that he would follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the gas station on South 14th, and it costs $1 for air! When did it change from 25 cents?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I had left my purse at the station so I was looking all over my car for change and I was able to find 3 quarters, he didn't have change  so it was one of those, I need air, do I need to go beg for a quarter from some stranger?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I kept looking in my car, and I found in a compartment of my car a scratch off ticket that my dad bought when he was in town last Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it said I won a dollar!! CHA-CHING!! I got so excited I ran in to the gas station and asked for my prize in quarters so I can fill up my tire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was as if I won the lottery!! Ok, I did.. well a dollar, but it was very exciting!!! I laughed so hard when I was turning in my scratch ticket--for change so I can get air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you need a good laugh, and although this story sounds silly.. it was a much needed good laugh that turned a bad night into a silly night all over a flat tire and a scratch ticket saving the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, Ok, My friend saved the day too for making sure I didn't get stuck on the road or get stuck riding on my rim. So thank you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND by the way, my scratch off ticket, it was the Lucky Duck one... which makes this funnier to me.. hehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-1712975710899609846?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/1712975710899609846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/11/scratch-off-ticket-saves-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1712975710899609846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1712975710899609846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/11/scratch-off-ticket-saves-day.html' title='Scratch Off Ticket Saves The Day!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-8097003454197403492</id><published>2009-11-11T18:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T18:39:01.868-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Clock Is Tickin'?!</title><content type='html'>Let me first explain my title, yes, it is what you are thinking, my biological clock... I don't really think it is ticking, but some folks here do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I go out on stories, I meet so many people, sometime we chat for a little while, and they ask me (women do) how old am I.&lt;br /&gt;To me it's not a big deal so I say 26. Next question, are you married? I reply, NOPE! Then here comes the next one, do you have any kids? No, maam I dont. (these two questions are asked in either order).&lt;br /&gt;Then comes the dreaded, 'oh, hunny, I'm sorry." or "You'll find yourself a good man one day." or "26 and no kids or husband?"or the big one, "What is wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking, wow, am I damaged? Many people here seem to obviously think so! I've met many women here, who are 22, 23, even 24 and married and with kids, nothing wrong with that, but I chose a different route. I also know women, those same ages, that are divorced, unhappy, and yes with kids. I chose a different route.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got the opportunity to come to Abilene, I chose my career. I have/had someone in my life that I spent 8 great years with. He is now my best friend, but before saying yes to the job, I had a day or two to decide, whether I would be going with him to North Carolina, or coming to Abilene. I chose Me. I needed to follow my dreams, I needed to make my 20k in loans I have left at least worth it, I needed to see if this is something I want to do for the rest of my life. I needed for once, to choose me. I did.&lt;br /&gt;So I'm not damage, I'll have that husband and kids one day, and it will be wonderful, but I'm 26 and I am following my dreams, and living life for me.&lt;br /&gt;And there is nothing wrong with being single, having a career, and making the choice to leave everything behind and go off on my own, to find myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-8097003454197403492?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/8097003454197403492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-clock-is-tickin.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/8097003454197403492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/8097003454197403492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-clock-is-tickin.html' title='My Clock Is Tickin&apos;?!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-1416642925104438593</id><published>2009-10-26T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T20:31:11.924-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being An Abilene Fire Fighter</title><content type='html'>As a reporter, day in and day out, we deal with many people, especially police officers and fire fighters, we talk to them to get information about an accident scene, about a house fire, etc. They give us the information we need, like the who, what, when, where, why? And we get on our way to get the story together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for 8 weeks, I had the opportunity to take part in Abilene's Citizens Fire Academy. (I am one lucky girl!) I have to tell you... I am honored, I am blessed, and I feel privileged that I had this opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me brief you on a little of what we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met every Thursday from 6 to 9pm. Every week we went over something the fire department did, from learning about the actual department, to learning about the different ladders, hoses, equipment, to having a search and rescue night, to riding in the bucket, shooting the water hose, to spending two evenings with the guys going to medical calls, fires, and accidents. It was very exciting! (my favorite part: blowing the horn!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met so many amazing people during the academy. Citizens like Shane Price, David Vela, Raymon Ince, Winona Henry, Lesa hart Crosswhite, Kelly Wright, Robert Laird, Joe Spano Jr., Rita, Kris, Diana, Aaron Vannoy and soo many more, were all part of this class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am truly going to miss these guys! they made me laugh on so many nights! Despite a rough patch in my life, these guys made me smile every Thursday, the one thing I looked forward to every week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, every week we had a pop quiz about the class before. I've never been a good student lol so I failed. Aaron Vannoy won with the most wins! GREAT JOB AARON!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let's talk about PLAY DAY!&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, October 24, we got the chance to head to the fire department's training field. Something each and everyone of us looked forward to since day 1!&lt;br /&gt;We were finally able to put everything we learned in 8 weeks to the test! (although I failed every quiz.. I dont think I did so bad on play day :) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the training field at around 9 am, and we were put in different groups, my group was Courtnee Hembree, Raymon Ince, &amp;amp; Kris Kowatch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We started with Search and Rescue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Courtnee and I partnered up and went into a room full of fog smoke, trying to find "a body" (a cone) but then we had to break down a wall with an ax, and then crawl through a small opening to get to the other side. It was scary, not being able to see anything at all... not even your own hand right infront of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that was nothing, not even a little bit of what fire fighters have to go through during a fire. Not knowing the layout of a random house, not knowing if there is a victim in the home, if you turn right, and work your way around the room or house, and your victim was on the left the whole time, I mean, it was stressful in a room full of fog.. I can't imagine a house on fire, and trying to stay calm, while trying to find victims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then it was Repelling!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As our group got all geared up to repel off the 6 story building, we first started with baby steps, repelling off the second floor, not too bad! We get to the top, and Courtnee starts to get a little upset, plus her gloves were too big and she couldn't grip the ropes. I handed her my gloves that were smaller and tighter, and she went off and repelled! Now it's my turn, put on the gloves that Court gave me, and I suddenly feel a sting... it hurt like crazy! I GOT STUNG BY A YELLOW JACKET! The little bugar was in my glove, or Court's glove and it stung me, I've never been stung before so I was just in a pain I never felt before! Luckily, I had great fire fighter/paramedics at the scene to care of me!! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Side Note: Lunch Time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an amazing Lunch :) The Chief of the Abilene Fire Department Chief Dozier cooked us hamburgers! And they were really good! Thanks Chief!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hot, Hot, Hot-- Burn House!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My team got all geared up to take on the burn house. It's a building in which you have to drag a fire house up the stairs and into a room where there is a fire. Sounds easy, not so much! When you turn the nozzle on and put the fire out, it gets like a bazillion degrees (ok, not a bazillion but it gets extremely hot) We are all suited up, gloves, boots, pants, jackets, masks with our air bottle, everything, but you start sweating immediately! I'm not going to lie, I couldn't take the heat and had to step out during the burn house :(&lt;br /&gt;Now, this is just a few minutes of us in this room, Fire Fighters sometimes battle a blaze for hours and hours, or grass fires that never seem to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cutting Up Cars!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we headed over to the car our group was going to cut up! When the fire department has to extricate, it's serious because that means someone is stuck in the car. So we took out the tools, and started to cut the car! It's was amazing how powerful these tools are, that can break a door right off a car so easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt that I knew what a fire department does on a daily basis. I had no clue. I am amazed by the Abilene Fire Department. After this academy, I have a new found respect for these guys.&lt;br /&gt;As most of you know, I am not from Abilene BUT I am so proud to be in Abilene and have the fire department that we have. They work hard to ensure the safety of each and everyone of us here. I wish every citizens could go through this class, and see exactly what they are all about. You would be so impressed.&lt;br /&gt;They deal with harsh conditions, while fighting fires, they deal with seeing things like fatal accidents that, they all wish they didn't have to, they deal with long hours, and so much more.&lt;br /&gt;If you see a fire fighter around town, just say thanks, because they deserve the appreciation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the Chief and all the amazing Fire Fighters I met, THANK YOU! You guys are amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width: 480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w78.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w78.photobucket.com/albums/j95/babybear46/Abilene%20Citizens%20Fire%20Academy/f1a955e7.pbw" width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s78.photobucket.com/albums/j95/babybear46/Abilene%20Citizens%20Fire%20Academy/?action=view&amp;amp;current=f1a955e7.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-1416642925104438593?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/1416642925104438593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/10/being-abilene-fire-fighter.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1416642925104438593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1416642925104438593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/10/being-abilene-fire-fighter.html' title='Being An Abilene Fire Fighter'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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-8306469578044978052.post-6598042554802095043</id><published>2009-06-24T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T19:41:03.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Sexting,' "...no big deal, really."</title><content type='html'>The title of this blog probably caught your attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me first explain what a "SEXT" is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a sexually suggestive text message, could be a nude photo, some what nude photo, or erotic message. I'm sure you've heard of phone sex, like it but through texts and pictures sent a long with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, all my friends do it,  and a lot of people at school do it like maybe half of the kids in school do this, it's just common, no big deal really."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the words of a 14 year old, that sends explicit photos of himself to others, and receives some in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I read the article about a survey that one in five teens do it... YIKES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went out to see if this was true, thinking no teenager would admit it and especially with their parent right there, but my first try, first parent and teenager I went up to, I got what I was looking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only is this illegal because they are underage, but aren't the kids concerned it will get on the web? On all those social-networking sites? Even in the hands of the mean girl at school that would send it to everyone and anyone? WHY RISK IT? There are enough bullying, and hurtful things going around about kids in schools these days, why be labeled as the "skank" or "slut" of the school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I think it's the job of the parent to keep their kids in check, and I do have to say, after hearing all this about "sexting," I am glad AISD will be charging kids a fee if they have their phones during class time, yeah you got it, it happens while they are in class too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I have two younger brothers, one will be 15 years old this year--he doesn't have a cellphone :) the other does have one and will be 17 in July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scares me as a big sister, and if you are a parent, I'm sure you are feeling the same way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what can parents do to avoid this from happening? The mom I spoke with said she checks her son's phone every night. Then, he admits he deletes them "after he is done" with the picture, so you tell me, what else can we do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, you might say take the phone away, that leaves, instant messaging, it leaves myspace, facebook, e-mailing, is there no way around technology?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geez, I'm sorry but I think our parent's had it easier, although they say, "I had to do this and work this and walk 15 miles to school,"  I am 25, and when I have kids, I don't even want to know what I will have to deal with when they are of school age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until Next Time! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Links you might want to check out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bigcountryhomepage.com/content/fulltext/?cid=150001"&gt;'Sexting' A Growing Problem In The Big Country&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a mce_href="http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/2009-06-23-onlinekids_N.htm" href="http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/2009-06-23-onlinekids_N.htm"&gt;&lt;span class="inside-head"&gt;Survey: 1 in 5 teens 'sext' despite risks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a mce_href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/education/2009-06-17-cellphones-in-class_N.htm" href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/education/2009-06-17-cellphones-in-class_N.htm"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="inside-head"&gt;Survey: Many teens use phones in class to text or cheat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a mce_href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/education/2009-06-17-cellphones-in-class_N.htm" href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/education/2009-06-17-cellphones-in-class_N.htm"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-6598042554802095043?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/6598042554802095043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/06/sexting-no-big-deal-really.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6598042554802095043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6598042554802095043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/06/sexting-no-big-deal-really.html' title='&apos;Sexting,&apos; &quot;...no big deal, really.&quot;'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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-8306469578044978052.post-5493280080963024227</id><published>2009-05-19T17:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T17:26:54.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Abilene, TX. Where Dreams Go To Die." WHAT!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/ShNM7orx5iI/AAAAAAAAAHI/HgxchTw9gXY/s1600-h/100_6923-1+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/ShNM7orx5iI/AAAAAAAAAHI/HgxchTw9gXY/s320/100_6923-1+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337694570781206050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, so you might have already seen the bumper stickers on a couple of stop and yield signs around town. If not, here is what they look like!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some think it's funny, some residents don't. I did a story on this, and this is what Abilene residents had to say. &lt;a href="http://bigcountryhomepage.com/content/fulltext/?cid=138042"&gt;Abilenians Offended By Anti-Abilene Bumper Sticker&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/ShNNE27QtxI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/m-_CAOF1-k0/s1600-h/100_6925-2+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/ShNNE27QtxI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/m-_CAOF1-k0/s320/100_6925-2+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337694729223059218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Some think it's a joke, other say maybe it's some one who just is miserable in Abilene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real question is, who would take the time and let's not forget the money to get this printed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What exactly do you think about this sign, are people over reacting over a bumper sticker?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/ShNNOvPtzWI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ueu0aJkO_b8/s1600-h/100_6927-3+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/ShNNOvPtzWI/AAAAAAAAAHY/ueu0aJkO_b8/s320/100_6927-3+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337694898960059746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you like the city/police to do something about them, or do they not bother you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Let's not forget it's against the law to post or do anything to traffic signs....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-5493280080963024227?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/5493280080963024227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/05/abilene-tx-where-dreams-go-to-die-what.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/5493280080963024227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/5493280080963024227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/05/abilene-tx-where-dreams-go-to-die-what.html' title='&quot;Abilene, TX. Where Dreams Go To Die.&quot; WHAT!?'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/ShNM7orx5iI/AAAAAAAAAHI/HgxchTw9gXY/s72-c/100_6923-1+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-1609975142688461178</id><published>2009-04-02T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T15:13:31.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Life Changing Story</title><content type='html'>We are constantly hearing and telling stories on the news about tragedies. This one in particular took up a huge place in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZd6CADI/AAAAAAAAAGo/_plN99WrTYM/s1600-h/P3261193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZd6CADI/AAAAAAAAAGo/_plN99WrTYM/s320/P3261193.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320208450356117554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;20 year old Rachelle Rueda was killed by a drunk driver, her boyfriend, Andrew Lugo Jr. It happened in November 2007, Andrew was driving when he slammed into a Texas Alcohol Beverage Commissions vehicle that was stopped at a red light on Buffalo Gap Road and South Clack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachelle and her unborn child were killed instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since moving to Abilene, I always seem to hear&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUslfVvs1I/AAAAAAAAAF4/CBmM5I3B1iY/s1600-h/P3261183.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUslfVvs1I/AAAAAAAAAF4/CBmM5I3B1iY/s320/P3261183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320207557387596626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; about drunk drivers. In December right before New Year's Eve, I did two stories on drunk driving, one about the consequences and they other about Zach Robinson and Officer McCoy, both killed by drunks. I was hoping my story would make an impact, my thoughts are in my blog one of my first blogs published. New Year's Eve, a young woman was killed by drunk. Another life taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided I wanted to continue to do stories on DWI's and this month I had the opportunity to ride a long with a police officer to catch DWI offenders and then do the victim side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just never imagined that these two stories would have such an impact in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZv3Eq4I/AAAAAAAAAG4/f9RZ0n-vVHo/s1600-h/P3261196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZv3Eq4I/AAAAAAAAAG4/f9RZ0n-vVHo/s320/P3261196.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320208455175547778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know I am supposed to be tough and do the story and move on, but this one wasn't one of those. I know Rose Rueda and her family will be making a difference after people see this story air... so far they've made a difference in my life, especially Brooklyn, she doesn't know it but she's made a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Rose and her family put up Rachelle and her baby's cross at the corner of Buffalo Gap and Clack. I cried. I couldn't imagine losing a child, for a reason that could have been 100% avoided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZvBodnI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Xk_sn0N3kRA/s1600-h/P3261194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZvBodnI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Xk_sn0N3kRA/s320/P3261194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320208454951401074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Rose is one strong woman. She is currently raising Brooklyn. Brooklyn is Rachelle and Andrew's daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope when people hear this story tonight, they will think twice about getting behind the wheel drunk.&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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUsmOuGj_I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/vWNUvsbj4Yk/s1600-h/P3261189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUsmOuGj_I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/vWNUvsbj4Yk/s320/P3261189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320207570106224626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZYkKJpI/AAAAAAAAAGg/GaBcYMdp-tE/s1600-h/P3261191.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZYkKJpI/AAAAAAAAAGg/GaBcYMdp-tE/s320/P3261191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320208448922199698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUsl0CVFEI/AAAAAAAAAGI/tC9g0UvI5uo/s1600-h/P3261185.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUsl0CVFEI/AAAAAAAAAGI/tC9g0UvI5uo/s320/P3261185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320207562943304770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZIzuJPI/AAAAAAAAAGY/4qfuRVvEBI8/s1600-h/P3261190.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZIzuJPI/AAAAAAAAAGY/4qfuRVvEBI8/s320/P3261190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320208444692505842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A story hasn't touched my heart like this one did. I am grateful, thankful, and honored to been able to talk to Rose Rueda and get Rachelle's story and message out.&lt;br /&gt;Thank You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some links: &lt;a href="http://bigcountryhomepage.com/content/fulltext/?cid=121351"&gt;DWI PT1 &lt;/a&gt;&amp;amp; &lt;a href="http://bigcountryhomepage.com/content/fulltext/?cid=122281"&gt;DWI PT2&lt;/a&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/8306469578044978052-1609975142688461178?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/1609975142688461178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/04/life-changing-story.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1609975142688461178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/1609975142688461178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/04/life-changing-story.html' title='A Life Changing Story'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SdUtZd6CADI/AAAAAAAAAGo/_plN99WrTYM/s72-c/P3261193.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-6290522988029648647</id><published>2009-03-18T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T18:40:21.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>39 Days To Go... Of Fit Camp That Is!</title><content type='html'>Today was day one of fitness boot camp... while I am feeling exhausted, I do feel very motivated! I've been eating healthier and when I get e-mails from Mica and it says do 25 push-ups.. I do them (although, I do like 5 at a time... I'm still weak)! But everyone in that class are great motivators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part of today was hearing.. "39 more days to go, 39 days more to go!" I thought to myself.. that's forever away, how will I make it!? With Kyna pushing me, and the people that are in the class wahoooooing all morning... I know I'll make it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, today we did a lot of running, lunges, leg work, but I will never hear the "Walk it Out" song the same ever again! Some of you know what I am talking about and for others, all I can say is, "walk it out" better give me super thighs and a butt that looks better than J.Lo's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't feeling at all good this morning, during the whole hour I felt that the half piece of whole wheat pita bread was about to come out along with the orange juice. I have to figure out what works for me in the morning because that didn't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll be feeling the muscle pain tomorrow :( but although it hurts.. it's an amazing feeling at the same time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what? I SURVIVED DAY ONE!! Day 2--here I come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now walk it out.. now walk it out.. now walk it out!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Give me 25 push ups!!! Yup!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-6290522988029648647?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/6290522988029648647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/03/39-days-to-go-of-fit-camp-that-is.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6290522988029648647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6290522988029648647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/03/39-days-to-go-of-fit-camp-that-is.html' title='39 Days To Go... Of Fit Camp That Is!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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-8306469578044978052.post-6219086973062896921</id><published>2009-03-11T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T17:02:28.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Messages From The Dead</title><content type='html'>I've heard many times people say that a loved one that has passed away has come back in one way or another to give them some kind of message. Now I have some stories I've heard but first let's get to Travis and Joey's Story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SbhGzDl-HmI/AAAAAAAAAFY/3MggoPDjMYo/s1600-h/ball.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SbhGzDl-HmI/AAAAAAAAAFY/3MggoPDjMYo/s320/ball.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312073603435339362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Travis and Joey's grandmother passed away on March 8. On March 10, they attended her funeral. When Travis got home he went out to his yard and noticed a yellow tennis ball and a dandelion flower with the dandelion clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thought it was odd because grass doesn't grow in his backyard. It's all dirt but yet there was this yellow dandelion in the center of dried land... weird. Weirder is this random tennis ball that was in his backyard in the first place! The way the ball was sitting on the ground the letters from the ball WTi2 looked like N-F-B. Travis thought this could be Never Forget Butch (Butch was her nickname). &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SbhHCz7xriI/AAAAAAAAAFg/32vZnMLewoM/s1600-h/flower.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SbhHCz7xriI/AAAAAAAAAFg/32vZnMLewoM/s320/flower.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312073874109738530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As he was trying to put the pieces together on why this flower was blooming with no other flowers around and the tennis ball sitting the way its, a yellow butterfly floated around the flowers. Did I mention her favorite color was yellow? When he saw the butterfly he remembered what the sermon said earlier that day. He said a passing should be looked at like a caterpillar changing into a beautiful butterfly. At that moment he knew it was a sign from his grandmother, letting him know she was happy and ok.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SbhHDBRuADI/AAAAAAAAAFo/M8LKT7pf9Sc/s1600-h/ball+flower.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SbhHDBRuADI/AAAAAAAAAFo/M8LKT7pf9Sc/s320/ball+flower.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312073877691433010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the dandelion clock, Travis always called them "grandpa whiskers" he felt that the beautiful dandelion is his grandmother and the "grandpa whiskers" his grandfather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I hear stories like these my first reaction is yeah right. Then, I hear more about it, I see the person's expressions, their sincerity, and you know right then they feel it in their heart that this real and it makes you believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to experience it, maybe I have and haven't noticed. I've been very lucky not have anyone close to me pass away but when the doors of heaven open for them, I hope to get a message from them letting me know they are happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I've heard so far.&lt;br /&gt;My mom once told me, (and I actually heard her scream that night because she got scared) that her first love, her first boyfriend came to her. According to her not technically in a dream but it felt real to her. She hadn't thought about him in decades but he was standing next to her bed when he appeared. The more she thought about it during the day she realized that it was the anniversary of when they first met. She thought it was weird that it felt is so real but didn't think it could be possible. A few weeks later she was talking to my aunt in Colombia and she had asked if she's ever run into him again and my aunt told her, that he was killed a few weeks before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another time, she had a dream of going to a funeral but there were so many people around she couldn't see who's funeral she was attending. Then an old co-worker John tapped her on the shoulder and she asked him what he was doing there and who's funeral it was. He responded that it was his. A few days later she spoke with former co-workers... John had died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just this week I was interviewing an amazing woman, whose daughter was killed by a drunk driver. (you will see this story air at the end of March) Many of you may recall this accident a couple of years ago. Rachaelle was pregnant when she died. Rose, her mother, is currently taking care of Rachaelle's two year old. The baby she was carrying died instantly with her. Rose always wanted to find out what grandchild she would have had, and at the same time being able to tell the two year whether or not she would have had a baby brother or sister. Rose prayed and asked god to please tell her if they baby was going to be a boy or girl, after several prayers, Rachaelle came to Rose in a dream holding a baby boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think these stories are amazing.&lt;br /&gt;Have you had any experiences like this? If so, when was the moment you found out that those signs were from a loved one?&lt;br /&gt;And if you don't believe in spiritual messages, why not?&lt;br /&gt;Let me know what you think! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-6219086973062896921?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/6219086973062896921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/03/messages-from-dead.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6219086973062896921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6219086973062896921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/03/messages-from-dead.html' title='Messages From The Dead'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SbhGzDl-HmI/AAAAAAAAAFY/3MggoPDjMYo/s72-c/ball.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-692253036704358409</id><published>2009-03-05T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T10:34:30.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting a Little Sister</title><content type='html'>Every other Sunday, I see these adorable kids on our newscast for Kyna's Kids.&lt;br /&gt;Kyna has been a Big Sister to a Little in the community and she always talks about how fun and rewarding it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to apply and go through the whole interview process to be a "Big Sister." It was a long process, which it should be because they don't obviously want to match a "Little" with just any random person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this week I got the call that they have matched me up with a Little Sister!&lt;br /&gt;Now I am already a big sister to two little brothers which I love and adore. They are both back home with my mom. They could be trouble at times, but they are really good kids. Both teenagers.. YIKES!!! It worries me because I am not back home to watch them like a hawk! lol&lt;br /&gt;I know what it's like to be a sister to three brothers total, but I've never had a sister!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited... and I am so nervous! What will she be like? Will she like me? What's her name? I just know a few things so far like she is 10 and loves the Jonas Brothers... they are singers right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; going to need some advice from moms out there about what a 10 year old likes, doesn't like, about their school work and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although nervous and excited, I am really glad I can be a mentor and a friend to someone in Abilene, and have this girl look up to me and know she can count on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to meet her really soon, I will keep you updated on my journey and will ask you for advice on fun things to do in Abilene with a 10 year old!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-692253036704358409?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/692253036704358409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/03/getting-little-sister.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/692253036704358409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/692253036704358409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/03/getting-little-sister.html' title='Getting a Little Sister'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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-8306469578044978052.post-6957018676026060751</id><published>2009-02-20T17:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T17:33:35.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She Must Be Crazy!</title><content type='html'>I'm talking about Kyna and her fitness boot camp at Dyess Air Force Base!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to join her on Thursday to see what this fitness camp was all about and if I wanted to join in March. Camp starts at 4:45am and ends at 5:45am but it was the looonngest, I mean longest hour of my life! I kept looking at the clock hoping it would be 5:45 but at that point it was about 4:58am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did a lot of cardio... running, skipping, push ups, lunges, but it was all really intense. At times they would send you to the pit. YOU DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE PIT, TRUST ME! They make you do 25 push ups, (I can barely do about 3). They send you whenever they want and sometimes its over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although that morning was pretty intense, I did not realize how much worse it was going to get until I woke up Friday morning. Even Thursday night I was already feeling my muscles ache but Friday morning was bad. I couldn't get out of bed! I couldn't bend my legs and let's not talk about trying to go the bathroom when I couldn't bend. I wobbled all day and realized there were some muscles in places, I never knew exsisted!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give lots of props to Kyna for going everyday at 4:45am! I did one day and I want to lay in a bath of icy hot for the next few days, so she is definitly a trooper for sticking with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These are my confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joined! ha ha!! It starts March 16 for 6 weeks. I know I will be in much pain but I am hoping by the end of the 6 weeks, I've lost several pounds and gained more energy and strength.&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you updated on how it goes!&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, I must be crazy too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-6957018676026060751?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/6957018676026060751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/02/she-must-be-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6957018676026060751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6957018676026060751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/02/she-must-be-crazy.html' title='She Must Be Crazy!'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-380410195197449445</id><published>2009-02-04T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T18:56:08.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where To Go and What To Do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpL9VqZx4I/AAAAAAAAADo/n7BYbRhYKWk/s1600-h/kensington.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpL9VqZx4I/AAAAAAAAADo/n7BYbRhYKWk/s200/kensington.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299131428713908098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpLcaS6HxI/AAAAAAAAADg/JTUAShKdDLw/s1600-h/sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpLcaS6HxI/AAAAAAAAADg/JTUAShKdDLw/s200/sunset.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299130863021858578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been here over four months now and I still need to travel and get to know Texas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've heard so many good things about this state and I feel that it is time that I explore it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, back home when I drove anywhere there were trees with all different colored leaves, sparkling snow, or the beautiful sunrise like you see in this picture on the left or the sunset on the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpSsR7r1aI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SKRT0WwGBdo/s1600-h/P1291125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpSsR7r1aI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SKRT0WwGBdo/s200/P1291125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299138832236271010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpSYv9GR-I/AAAAAAAAAEY/4E99S4MI4ew/s1600-h/P1291104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpSYv9GR-I/AAAAAAAAAEY/4E99S4MI4ew/s200/P1291104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299138496697878498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last week I headed to Midland for a story and it was not at all like home on our way to Midland, but I was constantly amazed at the Wind Turbines and at the large acre farms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some would say there is no scenery at all but I love to appreciate every type, it doesn't have to be those trees with orange and red l&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpSYthu6eI/AAAAAAAAAEg/xdL5smhdwiU/s1600-h/P1291105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpSYthu6eI/AAAAAAAAAEg/xdL5smhdwiU/s200/P1291105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299138496046229986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;eaves, or the sparkling snow but the lands and farm land I saw on my way to Midland were pretty neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's now time for me to explore other parts of Texas and see what this big beautiful state has to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These are my confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to travel but not sure where to go.&lt;br /&gt;I know I can look on the web and find places to travel, but the best locations are places locals have been or traveled to, not a place where some "traveling expert" says it's great! Do you have any ideas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-380410195197449445?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/380410195197449445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/02/where-to-go-and-what-to-do.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/380410195197449445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/380410195197449445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/02/where-to-go-and-what-to-do.html' title='Where To Go and What To Do?'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SYpL9VqZx4I/AAAAAAAAADo/n7BYbRhYKWk/s72-c/kensington.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-7341102883622286044</id><published>2009-01-19T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T19:57:36.034-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Behind The Scenes On The Weekends</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I hear, "You just sit there and read the teleprompter, right?" I wish! As a Weekend Anchor, just as any other anchor at our station we have multiple job duties and although it seems quiet on the weekends, it sometimes gets a little hectic but we have a great weekend crew which you will see in the below pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let's start! Here is a look at behind the scenes on &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;KRBC Weekends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually go into work anytime from 1 to 2 p.m. to prepare for Saturday 6pm and 10pm newscast as well as Sunday's 5pm and 10pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUAY4ojmcI/AAAAAAAAABg/55vYLSFRc78/s1600-h/P1181085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 125px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUAY4ojmcI/AAAAAAAAABg/55vYLSFRc78/s320/P1181085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293137364563237314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The first thing is, I find out what the weekend reporter has for the day, what else he/she could do, what kind of story it could be, and for which newscast it will be ready for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular weekend, Tim Johnston was our weekend reporter and in this picture he was working on a couple of stories for Sunday's 5pm and 10pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then sit down and start producing the show. Meaning, I get all the local stories we have, look up other sources locally and statewide to see what is going on in Texas and start building my show.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUBU0Z7y6I/AAAAAAAAABo/SCk5V_FBet8/s1600-h/P1171071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 144px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUBU0Z7y6I/AAAAAAAAABo/SCk5V_FBet8/s320/P1171071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293138394220317602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Trust me, it's not easy, when the weekends are slow story days. After finding local or statewide news, I start looking for national headline news, and even go international at times. I edit some stories, I write, and add them to my show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times I even run out and be reporter, as I am trying to produce the show. Those days get a little crazy, when I am running out to a scene of an accident or checking on a structure fire, getting footage and interviews when I should really be back at the station trying to get my show organized, my timing, and stories accurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, as &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUEWrRdzPI/AAAAAAAAACA/R4KVUkyFGBo/s1600-h/P1181084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 140px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUEWrRdzPI/AAAAAAAAACA/R4KVUkyFGBo/s200/P1181084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293141724663500018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am stacking my shows together or running around getting more local stories, Tyler Edwards the Weekend Sports Anchor is also getting his sports headlines together and editing compelling highlight video for you. He does a great job of keeping viewers entertained with his sports videos and his energetic attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUHMktkuII/AAAAAAAAACI/1zvqleYDJNc/s1600-h/P1171079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 147px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUHMktkuII/AAAAAAAAACI/1zvqleYDJNc/s200/P1171079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293144849638537346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my show is all stacked ready to go, I go over scripts, make any necessary adjustments and then.... I print. Big relief!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then head to the dressing room to get changed and do my make up. Even on the set, sometimes I touch up and our production crews are always laughing about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do our mic checks, our camera crews set up shots. I usually&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUJ2PRkm8I/AAAAAAAAACQ/7vtzwnvJyiA/s1600-h/P1171076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUJ2PRkm8I/AAAAAAAAACQ/7vtzwnvJyiA/s200/P1171076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293147764461706178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;give the guys a hard time, I am jittery before the news cast, drinking my water or pop, adding last minute touches to my make up or moving around looking at my scripts and laptop but the guys are really great about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXULI_m4krI/AAAAAAAAACo/m8iTN_hsP_Y/s1600-h/P1181090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXULI_m4krI/AAAAAAAAACo/m8iTN_hsP_Y/s200/P1181090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293149186185269938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As we do our last minute preparations we are ready to roll!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUM2W6QuWI/AAAAAAAAADA/ukpsJ928bEw/s1600-h/P1171077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUM2W6QuWI/AAAAAAAAADA/ukpsJ928bEw/s200/P1171077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293151065046301026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh yeah, did I mention I run my own teleprompter as well? Ha, it's not so bad because if I mess up or something goes wrong I can slow it down or stop it. (It's a foot pedal by the way)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we are now underway with our newscast but how do all the video, audio, and graphics come up? We have a great crew for that as well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUNaz6PafI/AAAAAAAAADI/4tDFZbfVWfc/s1600-h/P1181087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUNaz6PafI/AAAAAAAAADI/4tDFZbfVWfc/s200/P1181087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293151691306134002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is someone on audio to turn our mics on and off when needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, our director thought we were on, it was after a football game and since we don't have an accurate time we kind of have to go with the flow. So, after the post game show, our news channel went to black so my mic was turned on because she thought we were going on but actually a commercial was about to run and at the time I didn't realize my mic was turned on and the 695-1181 commercial came on, normally I always bust out singing it and being silly during commercial times... luckily this time I didn't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXfl0Vv5XJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/jpteDTX2MD4/s1600-h/P1181089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXfl0Vv5XJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/jpteDTX2MD4/s200/P1181089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293952574351301778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to lie, when I am cued to start the top of the show, my heart starts pounding but there is no turning back!! The worst part of it is, when you don't go over scripts in full detail, because if there is a misspelled word.. or the sentence that was written doesn't make sense, it could trip you up completely!! As you are trying to make sense of what in the world you just said.. you need to get back on track but you lose your concentration and sometimes it gets ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, after the newscast is done and over with, Tyler, Randy, and I, or if it's a Saturday with &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXfmhpcGIaI/AAAAAAAAADY/g9rEQ_tiJyc/s1600-h/P1171082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXfmhpcGIaI/AAAAAAAAADY/g9rEQ_tiJyc/s200/P1171082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293953352731074978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Clemente we get together with our production crew and we discuss things that went wrong in the newscast. For example, video didn't come up at the right time, or they have "Mary Jo's" name on "Joe Smith's" soundbite, or maybe a tun time for a story wasn't on the script. This makes us (both production and talent) make sure those errors aren't made again and sometimes it happens but we try to improve each newscast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These Are My Confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day I should roll an extra camera during the newscast so you can get a real look at what happens before, during, and after the newscast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love anchoring! It's my favorite part of my job at KRBC. I'm not even close to those big time anchors you see on CNN or MSNBC, but this is where I start, where I grow as a reporter/anchor, and as a person. I am really glad that Abilene is my first TV job. Every day I learn more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are amazing anchors at KRBC. Downing, Kyna, and Stephanie, which I don't come close to their knowledge and expertise but this is why I am here. I am here to learn from them and become better as each day goes by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-7341102883622286044?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/7341102883622286044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/behind-scenes-on-weekends.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7341102883622286044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7341102883622286044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/behind-scenes-on-weekends.html' title='Behind The Scenes On The Weekends'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_klye9U3K_Is/SXUAY4ojmcI/AAAAAAAAABg/55vYLSFRc78/s72-c/P1181085.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-6359772548073435138</id><published>2009-01-13T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T21:00:52.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Over For Uncle Jack!"</title><content type='html'>Abilene Police finally decided to unseal "Uncle Jack's" Urn. As many of us questioned but some of us couldn't believe... it was a prank! The ashes inside of the urn were confirmed as fireplace ashes. Who would take the time to place fireplace ashes in an urn. Now whoever did it, just lost about $500 to $1,000!! That's right! The urn is worth that much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These are my confessions&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad we figured out the big mystery of Uncle Jack but I wish this wasn't a prank, I would have loved to find out who "Uncle Jack" was!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-6359772548073435138?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/6359772548073435138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-over-for-uncle-jack.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6359772548073435138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/6359772548073435138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-over-for-uncle-jack.html' title='It&apos;s Over For Uncle Jack!&quot;'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-7395089190280325005</id><published>2009-01-06T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T07:09:59.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Is Uncle Jack?</title><content type='html'>Who is Uncle Jack? Are you wondering the same thing? Ever since I heard this story I've been wanting to find out who "Uncle Jack" is. Was he an amazing man that had many accomplishments in life? Maybe an Air Force pilot? A father that guided his sons to a successful life. I guess for sometime we wont know.. or maybe we'll never find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terry Diamond from KBCY called to tell me the story of the urn on her front porch. When I went to the radio station on Monday, I couldn't believe this urn was real! How could someone randomly leave an urn with possible ashes inside at a home that wasn't the right one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The note on the urn read: Domi, I've called many times!! Your new home is nice. Had to drive back. Take care of Uncle Jack. Love, Eddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terry gave the urn to the police and this is why I think we might not find out who Uncle Jack really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke with a Jack North from North's Funeral Home, and he told me that if the urn is unsealed there could be a coin in there that identifies the funeral home it came from or a document that has information on the person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How GREAT would that be if we can find out who Jack is and why someone left him at the wrong home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait... not so easy. Police have Uncle Jack's urn and they will not unseal it. They don't want to be held responsible or "liable" for opening the urn. I understand that opening an urn is like opening a casket, very disrespectful but it could help identify Uncle Jack. It would also give Uncle Jack a resting other than the Abilene Police Department's Property and Evidence storage area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These are my confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would rather have someone open my urn to identify me and find my family. I would much rather have police unseal it then leaving me in property and evidence for sometime. Maybe Jack wasn't a great man but no matter who he was he deserves to be with family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong. I understand where the Abilene PD are coming from. I respect that. I'm just curious who is inside the urn, the story of his life, and have him back to the person that was intended to receive the delivery of the urn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8306469578044978052-7395089190280325005?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/7395089190280325005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/who-is-uncle-jack.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7395089190280325005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/7395089190280325005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/who-is-uncle-jack.html' title='Who Is Uncle Jack?'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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-8306469578044978052.post-2182719322947120124</id><published>2009-01-02T13:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T14:46:13.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunk Driving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" &gt;On December 30, I did a story about drunk driving and how you should think twice about driving while intoxicated. New Year's Eve is a big day for celebrations. We say goodbye to 2008, the good and bad times and we welcome in a new year but it’s a day that many people get behind the wheel drunk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";color:black;" &gt;On December 31, I did another story, this time highlighting a family that went through the heartache of their 20-year-old son being killed by a drunk driver. It's sad to me that ONE choice changed the lives of so many. It really touched my heart talking with Mr. and Mrs. Robinson about Zach. I thought this would also touch the lives of others and make a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I was hoping my story would change people's minds about driving drunk. I don't think I'm superwoman but I thought if I could make some kind of difference, I did something right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;I feel like I didn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;On New Year's Day early in the morning about 1:30, there was a terrible collision on South First and Arnold. Krystal Limonez, Mazie Paulino, and Clifford Cartwright were all involved in the collision. Krystal passed away after being on life support for a day, Mazie is still in critical condition, and now Clifford has many questions to answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received that phone call from Sgt. Doug Wrenn from the Abilene Police Department on New Year's Day about what happened because just the day before we did the story about drunk driving. The whole day I couldn't stop thinking about these two young girls that got in the car with this guy that changed their lives and their families lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;color:black;" &gt;These are my confessions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;I am not calling this an accident as most media have. As Sgt. Wrenn and I discussed on New Year's Eve, getting behind the wheel drunk is intentional and accidents are unintentional.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;I am not here to try to save the world, but I feel like I need to try to make a difference, whether it's doing a story about a non-profit organization to promote donations, or about a teacher that is making a difference in a student's life, or getting people to think twice about drunk driving. I want to make an impact and I am hoping I did in someone's life but I feel this week I failed because Krystal is no longer on this earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;Always, Maria&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/8306469578044978052-2182719322947120124?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/2182719322947120124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/drunk-driving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/2182719322947120124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/2182719322947120124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/drunk-driving.html' title='Drunk Driving'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8306469578044978052.post-8633531856614527544</id><published>2009-01-02T13:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T14:43:44.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Confessions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;As each day goes by, I continue to learn what a Reporter and Anchor does and what it means to be one and I am happy to say I now get to share these moments with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;These are my confessions. My moments out in the field reporting or in studio anchoring. They could be embarrassing, funny, things I didn't expect, hard times, or about interesting people I am meeting along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;I am very excited to take this journey with you!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Feel free to comment, ask questions, make suggestions... or just anything at all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Always, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Maria&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/8306469578044978052-8633531856614527544?l=mariaoliver2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/feeds/8633531856614527544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-confessions.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/8633531856614527544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8306469578044978052/posts/default/8633531856614527544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariaoliver2.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-confessions.html' title='My Confessions'/><author><name>Maria Oliver</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09282301554523751962</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></feed>
