<?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-5949965569295621039</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:31:34.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me, Myself and Katie</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5949965569295621039.post-4782900723751945352</id><published>2009-04-23T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T08:56:27.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Musings</title><content type='html'>Chocolate and cheese are my mortal enemies, yet I love them so. It's the textbook definition of a love-hate relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there any way to VOLUNTARILY MAKE yourself lactose intolerant?!? Can your doctor give you some sort of shot to become allergic to chocolate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, if I didn't have such cravings for these things, my life would be so much easier. I'd weigh 140lbs instead of...well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-4782900723751945352?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/4782900723751945352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=4782900723751945352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/4782900723751945352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/4782900723751945352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2009/04/musings.html' title='Musings'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-8343257673092377763</id><published>2009-03-30T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T10:24:00.565-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Blogspot, My Old Friend</title><content type='html'>I just never keep up with this blog because I'm mostly on Facebook...and more recently, Twitter. Also, not much exciting happens in my life so it tends to be a little boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER, as a member of the Villanova University Class of 2003, I am pleased to inform you that my Villanova Wildcats men's basketball teem has made it to the Final Four!!!!! This is exciting for several reasons: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(1). This means my alma mater is, at this point, one of the 4 best college basketball teams in the country. &lt;br /&gt;(2). The last time we went to the Final Four, we went on to win the National Championship.&lt;br /&gt;(3). The last time we won the National Championship, we also had to beat the University of North Carolina Tarheels (WTF is a Tarheeel anyway?!?!?!?), who are our Final Four matchup in Saturday night's game.&lt;br /&gt;(4). The men's basketball team at Villanova pretty much sucked when I was there from 1999 to 2003. I'm not even sure we made it to the NCAA tourney. If we did, we lost in the first round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than this VERY EXCITING March Madness news, nothing much is going on. My mother is having gallbladder surgery the day after Easter. After 6 months of being able to keep hardly any decent food down, thus relegating her diet to that similar to a baby, they finally figured out the problem was her gallbladder! Seriously? That would have been one of the first 3 places I looked. Apparently, our gallbladders should work at a minimum of 50% capacity to live a normal, comfortable life. Her is working at 19%, thus making it very difficult to digest food because the bile isn't being released to the stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than all that, I'm having a silly old fun time with my roommate. She loves to cook and I love to eat so we get along great! But seriously, she is so much of any improvement over my last roommates, it's like night and day. On that front, I did have a self-imposed detox period of about 2 months from seeing one of those former roommates, although we argued back and forth via email about various final utility bills-related issues. However, since we no longer live together and are no longer financially tied to each other, we have mended our relationship and do actually enjoy each other's company again. We do make each other laugh quite a bit and it has been a long time since I've been able to make her spit take, but it happened last weekend and it was glorious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the time since my last post, I also had a brief romance with a tall drink of water I went to high school with...though we weren't really friends then. All I'll say about it is he served his purpose and Katie has moved on. My attitude about the whole thing was very much like a Sex and the City episode, which was kinda great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK...I guess that's it for now. See you in 3 months!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-8343257673092377763?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/8343257673092377763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=8343257673092377763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/8343257673092377763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/8343257673092377763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2009/03/hello-blogspot-my-old-friend.html' title='Hello Blogspot, My Old Friend'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-6687101477556384876</id><published>2008-12-04T07:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T07:27:56.405-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Hello everybody (and by everybody, I mean Emily b/c I think she's the only person who reads this),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm totally moving tomorrow and I'm totally excited. I will no longer be residing in the house where Berber carpet and my roommates' beer bottles go to die. Needless to say, I am not moving with any of my current roommates. This is my new house:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/STf1yFBpLxI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fkcJ_Nxy-Z4/s1600-h/Acworth+House.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/STf1yFBpLxI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fkcJ_Nxy-Z4/s200/Acworth+House.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275955729179160338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow I load up the UHaul with everything I can physically move myself and on Saturday, my brother comes over to help with all the furniture. On Sunday, we reconvene to do a day of really cleaning the house and a little grass cutting/shrubbery trimming and by Monday, I should be free and clear of the home and neighborhood I've come to hate. Note to anyone thinking of moving into the duplex wonderland known as Lake Mist subdivision, don't. The neighbors are lonely, old bitches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-6687101477556384876?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/6687101477556384876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=6687101477556384876' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/6687101477556384876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/6687101477556384876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/12/moving.html' title='Moving'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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/_tNqv1ojN0lI/STf1yFBpLxI/AAAAAAAAAC0/fkcJ_Nxy-Z4/s72-c/Acworth+House.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5949965569295621039.post-6992104040713567908</id><published>2008-11-03T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T09:28:34.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay Democracy</title><content type='html'>So besides the obvious reasons for voting in America, here's one more: FREE FOOD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This also just goes to show what a bunch of freeloading fat asses we are, but tomorrow, several food chains across the country are offering free stuff if you come in after voting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In particular (just what I've heard in the last half hour), you can get:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A free coffee at Starbucks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SQ80ofafJtI/AAAAAAAAACs/4Q-SBdhgYWI/s1600-h/Starbucks+Logo.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 151px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SQ80ofafJtI/AAAAAAAAACs/4Q-SBdhgYWI/s200/Starbucks+Logo.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264484359651403474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A free red white and blue doughnut at Krispy Kreme &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SQ8z0rqz0oI/AAAAAAAAACc/cDR9Ius6L5Q/s1600-h/Krispy+Kreme+Election+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 114px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SQ8z0rqz0oI/AAAAAAAAACc/cDR9Ius6L5Q/s200/Krispy+Kreme+Election+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264483469587894914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A free scoop of ice cream at Ben and Jerry's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SQ80GMV29tI/AAAAAAAAACk/Ckvme98HiUI/s1600-h/Ben+and+Jerry%27s+Election+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SQ80GMV29tI/AAAAAAAAACk/Ckvme98HiUI/s200/Ben+and+Jerry%27s+Election+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264483770416166610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-6992104040713567908?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/6992104040713567908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=6992104040713567908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/6992104040713567908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/6992104040713567908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/11/yay-democracy.html' title='Yay Democracy'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SQ80ofafJtI/AAAAAAAAACs/4Q-SBdhgYWI/s72-c/Starbucks+Logo.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5949965569295621039.post-5621960702708291958</id><published>2008-11-03T08:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T09:08:07.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Interpretation</title><content type='html'>There are a handful of recurring dreams I have (one of which happened last night) that I'm always curious about as to their meaning. I just did a random Google search for dream interpretation and this is what www.dreammoods.com tells me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teeth Falling Out Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams that your teeth are falling out are the most common dreams we here at Dream Moods receive. Common dream scenarios include having your teeth crumbling in your hands or your teeth falling out one by one with just a light tap.�Such dreams are not only horrifying and shocking, but often leaves the dreamer with a lasting image of the dream. So what does it mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One theory is that dreams about your teeth reflect your anxiety about your appearance and how others perceive you. Sadly, we live in a world where good looks are valued highly and your teeth play an important role in conveying that image. Teeth are used in the game of flirtations, whether it be a dazzling and gleaming smile or affectionate necking. These dreams may stem from a fear of your sexual impotence or the consequences of getting old. Teeth are an important feature of our attractiveness and presentation to others. Everybody worries about how they appear to others. Caring about our appearance is natural and healthy.�&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another rationalization for these falling teeth dream may be rooted in your fear of being embarrassed or making a fool of yourself in some specific situation. These dreams are an over-exaggeration of your worries and anxiety.�&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teeth are used to bite, tear, chew and gnaw. In this regard, teeth represent power. And the loss of teeth in your dream may be from a sense of powerlessness. Are you lacking power in some current situation? Perhaps you are having difficulties expressing yourself or getting your point across. You feel frustrated when your voice is not being heard. You may be experiencing feelings of inferiority and a lack of self-confidence in some situation or relationship in your life. This dream is an indication that you need to be more assertive and believe in the value of your own opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the latest research, it has been shown that women in menopause have frequent dreams about teeth. This may be related to getting older and/or feeling unattractive and less feminine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traditionally, it was thought that dreaming that you did not have teeth, represent malnutrition which may be applicable to some dreamers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Perspectives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A scriptural interpretation for bad or falling teeth indicate that you are putting your faith, trust, and beliefs in what man thinks rather than in the word of God. The bible says that God speaks once, yea twice in a dream or a vision in order to hide pride from us, to keep us back from the pit, to open our ears (spiritually) and to instruct and correct us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Greek culture, when you dream about loose, rotten, or missing teeth, it indicates that a family member or close friend is very sick or even near death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the Chinese, there is a saying that your teeth will fall out if your are telling lies.�&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has also been said that if you dream of your teeth falling out, then it symbolizes money. This is based on the old tooth fairy story. If you lose a tooth and leave it under the pillow, a tooth fairy would bring you money.�&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being Pregnant Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To dream that you are pregnant, symbolizes an aspect of yourself or some aspect of your personal life that is growing and developing. You may not be ready to talk about it or act on it.  This may also represent the birth of a new idea, direction, project or goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To dream that you are pregnant with the baby dying inside of you suggests that a project you had put a lot of effort into is falling apart and slowly deteriorating. Nothing works out the way you want it to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are really pregnant and having this dream, then it represents your anxieties about the pregnancy.  Women in the first  trimester of their pregnancy tend to dream of tiny creatures, fuzzy animals, flowers, fruit and water. In the second trimester, dreams will reflect your anxieties about being a good mother and concerns about possible complications with the birth. Dreams of giving birth to a non-human baby are also common during this period of the pregnancy. Finally, in the third trimester, dreams consists of your own mother. As your body changes and grows, dreams of whales, elephants and dinosaurs and other larger animals may also start appearing at this stage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other dream I've had since I was a kid involves driving into water. In essence, I'll just be driving along a road (that may or may not be surrounded by a body of water) and then the road will all of a sudden just descend into the water. I couldn't really find an accurate interpretation of this dream because it involves several elements...mainly water and driving. I'm usually driving myself (which apparently makes a difference), but then there's the water element. It's not really about drowning, but more of being scared how to get out. Then again it's not scary enough to be a nightmare, it's just more of a sense of dread. I really do believe, though, that this particular dream is inspired by something specific, although I don't know what triggers when I have it. when my family lived in New York, there was a nearby town that had a reservoir. To get to the town (or rather to my friend's house in that town), we had to drive over the road that went across the reservoir. I always thought the road was a little too close to the water (i.e. unlike a bridge) and the guardrails a little too flimsy. So yeah, I think that's why I have that dream today and why, to this day, I still quite dislike driving over bridges...like the Talmadge Bridge over Savannah River...not fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-5621960702708291958?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/5621960702708291958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=5621960702708291958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/5621960702708291958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/5621960702708291958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/11/dream-interpretation.html' title='Dream Interpretation'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-3975529106321399815</id><published>2008-10-16T18:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T18:16:39.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hallelujah</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Jeff Buckley version of "Hallelujah" has really been haunting me lately. I don't know why...actually I do. The other day, I had the urge to look up a couple scenes from "West Wing" on YouTube. Although I never watched the show on a regular basis (except of course in the last season when Jon Bon Jovi himself made a cameo as himself as a supporter of the Jimmy Smitts character's on the campaign trail), I saw a couple big episodes over the years. One in particular was where Mrs. Landingham is killed by a drunk driver and following her funeral in the national cathedral, Martin Sheen (the President) takes a moment by himself, cusses out God in Latin, lights a cigarette and immediately puts it out on the floor of the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the Jeff Buckley song plays during the end of that episode so now I've been playing it over and over on Project Playlist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um yeah, so that's it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-3975529106321399815?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/3975529106321399815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=3975529106321399815' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/3975529106321399815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/3975529106321399815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/10/hallelujah.html' title='Hallelujah'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-8902927275110681290</id><published>2008-10-14T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T11:11:38.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Like To Complain About Cops, This Post Is For You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;This post is especially for all those people who've ever complained about "speed traps" (how can it be a trap if you're breaking the law?), quotas, ticket revenue or "don't cops have something better to do than..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this doesn't break your heart, then you have no soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://onlineathens.com/multimedia/fea/101308_DeputyMemorialService/&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/5949965569295621039-8902927275110681290?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/8902927275110681290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=8902927275110681290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/8902927275110681290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/8902927275110681290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/10/if-you-like-to-complain-about-cops-this.html' title='If You Like To Complain About Cops, This Post Is For You'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-4831922216699585443</id><published>2008-10-04T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T15:12:19.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Something very simple happened recently that put me in a funk for the rest of the day. It's no big deal and I'm pretty over it, but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I was walking to the Wachovia building around the corner from my office to get some cash for lunch. It was a lovely day, if not mildly chilly. Then the cutest thing happened that put me into the aforementioned funk. I know it doesn't make sense, but let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this woman walking next to me about my age...maybe a tad younger. Then there was this older man walking in the opposite direction. He was probably late-50's. As it turns out, they were father and daughter because suddenly the girl says. "Hey Dad!" and they give each other a nice hug. He says "Hey honey. Ready to get something to eat?". He then laughs as the wind blows and says "At least you're wearing something a little warmer today." She just laughed and they went on their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it...just a father and daughter, both of whom probably work in the city and who appeared to be meeting each other for lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a Dad who despite me being an adult, cared enough to remind me to wear a jacket when the weather starts to get cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a Dad I could meet for a bite to eat on our lunch hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a Dad who still called me Honey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a Dad who called me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had a Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-4831922216699585443?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/4831922216699585443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=4831922216699585443' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/4831922216699585443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/4831922216699585443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-wish.html' title='I Wish'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-6434880497698791044</id><published>2008-09-28T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:21:55.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies I Must See</title><content type='html'>OK...so I know it's absolutely unheard of for me to blog 3 times in one night, but I had to get this down before I forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I saw "Nights in Rodanthe" at the theater (as a film adapted from a Nicholas Sparks novel, it was of course a tear jerker) and saw a bunch of great previews, some fun comedies and some serious epics that looked really good. I just need to write them down before I forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1).  "Australia": I'm not a Nicole Kidman fan, but I cannot wait for this movie. It looks epic. I bet she gets another Oscar nomination for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2). "She's Just Not That Into You": I love Drew Barrymore, but this movie looks really cute as a whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3). "Changeling": Again, I'm not a big fan of the lead actress, Angelina Jolie, but this movie just looks insanely good...really emotional. Also, it was based on a true story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4). "Nothing Like the Hoidays": This movie just looks fun. It's one of those family holiday movies where everybody argues, laughs and it looks like in the end, discover how much they actually love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also, of course, am looking forward to seeing the new James Bond Movie, "Quantum of Solace", in November, in addition to the romantic comedy "The Accidental Husband" (Jeffrey Dean Morgan as a fire fighter = YUM!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I really must go to work now. It's back to the grind tomorrow. I've got expense reports to complete, timesheets to file and a meeting to have with 2 of my agency's planners who want to put on a press conference in the middle of one of our busiest media times of the year. Damn fools!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-6434880497698791044?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/6434880497698791044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=6434880497698791044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/6434880497698791044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/6434880497698791044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/09/movies-i-must-see.html' title='Movies I Must See'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-26119111088478044</id><published>2008-09-28T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T19:53:35.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Note On Last Post</title><content type='html'>I felt the need to explain that that photo of me in my last post. The wind was blowing...duh, I was at the beach...and that's why my hair looks so stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thought I'd clear that up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-26119111088478044?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/26119111088478044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=26119111088478044' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/26119111088478044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/26119111088478044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/09/quick-note-on-last-post.html' title='Quick Note On Last Post'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-3471282394087528859</id><published>2008-09-28T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T19:50:41.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goings On and the Whatnot</title><content type='html'>I think there's maybe 2 people in the whole world who know about this blog, much less actually read it, so for those select few, I give you my monthly blog. It's not always eloquent or particularly insightful, but rather a way of me telling someone about my day without actually having to carry on a conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just got back from a great business trip to California for a conference with a bunch of people who do what I do. It was a short trip, but nonetheless memorable. I flew into LAX, which I must admit I was a bit worried about because I'd heard from a couple people several days prior that LAX is actually quite a dump and hell to get in and out of. However, I had a perfectly normal experience both coming and going. I didn't check any luggage as mine was only a 2-night stay so that cut the airport time considerably. It was easy to find the outdoor area where I wait for my SuperShuttle van and off I went.  Oh...by the way, did I mention I'd never been to California or seen the Pacific Ocean up until that point.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hotel was also where the conference was held and it was quite lovely except for one MAJOR problem. It's the Marina del Rey Marriott and it's about 6 miles from the airport so it was a short trip. Lovely lobby, great view from balcony, blah, blah, blah. HOWEVER, the aforementioned drawback involves the outdoor lounge/club right off the lobby. The lounge, called Glow, was nice enough. We had our opening night reception there and it had these cool outdoor fireplaces with a slightly Moroccan feel to it...so they get a gold star for ambiance. But what they DIDN'T TELL US was that on Friday night, they play music unitl 2AM IN THE MORNING. Just my luck, my room was on the 6th floor RIGHT ABOVE the lounge. Needless to say, I ended up calling down to the front desk at about 12:45 am and the following conversation followed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Front Desk Dude: &lt;/span&gt;"Hello Ms. Fallon, how may I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt;Good lord, how long is that damn music in the lounge going to continue?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Front Desk Dude: &lt;/span&gt;Unfortunately, they go until 2am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt;Jesus Christ, fuck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Followed by me hanging up the phone)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I was so furious (seriously, I was getting more and more aggravated by the minute) is for a few reasons. The hotel knows they had a conference of business folks staying there and that the breakfast the hotel served us had to be set up by 7am and that our first session started at 8am. Music ended at 2am. I didn't get to sleep until 3am and had to get up at 6am in time to be ready for breakfast on time. You do the math. The funny thing is that when I checked out on Saturday, the girl at the girl at the front desk gave me the obligatory "And how was your stay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to just say "Oh, it was fine." But then I added in a very calm manner "Until Friday night when the music in the lounge kept me up until 3am when I had to get up at 6." I really just expected her to give the company apology and get on with checking me out. But much to my surprise, she not only offered a sincere apology, but took my room service charge off my bill. Sure, it was a mere $30 off what have been an almost $300 bill, but it was appreciated nonetheless. Now don't get me wrong, I still wrote an angry email to Marriott when I got home. What do you expect? You know that's my answer to everything. Write a letter! I even demanded a complete refund...wasn't that quite cheeky of me?!! You know what, I don't care. It couldn't hurt. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if they refunded at least some of my bill or sent me a one night's free stay somewhere. These days, they sure as hell don't want to lose the few clients they have what with the economy being so bad and people abondoning vacation and travel plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress. Let me get on to the good stuff. You might have noticed I mentioned room service. Well that really was a splurge...though I do get per diem from the state, we don't get reimbursed for expenses until after we get back, submit an expense report and wait the month it takes to get us our money. Anyway, I never ordered room service before and to do it at what really was a nice hotel in sunny California felt quite self-indulgent, but that was the best part! As Exhibit A, I give you the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOA_GZnyznI/AAAAAAAAABY/LfRnF4UkDk0/s1600-h/ca+15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOA_GZnyznI/AAAAAAAAABY/LfRnF4UkDk0/s320/ca+15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251266544703557234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be the remnants of the toffee cheesecake I had for dessert. Uh huh...yeah, I did it. So what of it? I also had a personal pizza with portobello mushrooms, carmelized onions, spinach and pesto on it for dinner. It was all yummy no matter how many calories I ingested. Plus the leftovers also served as my lunch the next day so it was economical, I swear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, the best part of the trip was walking the 4 blocks to Venice Beach, putting my feet in the sand and feeling the PAcific Ocean wash over my toes for the first time. I saw surfers, I watched the sunset and I got sushi afterwards. It was the definition of awesome. Truly. I even called my mother so she could hear the waves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBBRhRnOnI/AAAAAAAAABw/r_fbL3AERII/s1600-h/ca+37.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBBRhRnOnI/AAAAAAAAABw/r_fbL3AERII/s200/ca+37.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251268934759823986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBBi0AF2LI/AAAAAAAAAB4/tjhlR9ch9j4/s1600-h/ca+33.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBBi0AF2LI/AAAAAAAAAB4/tjhlR9ch9j4/s320/ca+33.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251269231844382898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBBwa0rxCI/AAAAAAAAACA/Zxpfhu1Rw0M/s1600-h/ca+40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBBwa0rxCI/AAAAAAAAACA/Zxpfhu1Rw0M/s320/ca+40.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251269465603818530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBB_j1JMWI/AAAAAAAAACI/jyADzZFYihA/s1600-h/ca+27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBB_j1JMWI/AAAAAAAAACI/jyADzZFYihA/s200/ca+27.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251269725719703906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the conference was cool. It was put on by my agency's federal partners, the&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; N&lt;/span&gt;ational &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;ighway &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;raffic &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;afety &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;dministration (which we phonetically refer to as "Nit-sa") and the Governors Highway Safety Association (GHSA). People who are PIO types like myself came from all over the country...seriously, there were even two chicks from North Dakota. Is there even a state government in North Dakota???  Anyway, it was informative and all that stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's really that about the business trip. Oh wait, one more thing. I was very disappointed I didn't see any celebrities at LAX. Every time I open up People Magazine or read PerezHilton, they always got a picture of some celeb going thru security...i.e. the "celebrities are just like us" shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever, on to other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm really excited about is the suprise party my brother's friends are throwing for his 30th birthday in November. They were nice enough to invite me and when I asked if I could do or bring anything, they asked if I could take care of the cake. Of course, I was delighted to take care of it and after some searching, I found someone who could do exactly what we were looking for, which was a poker themed cake. My brother likes poker and Blackjack and all that and originally,  he and a bunch of friends were supposed to go to Vegas for his birthday, but plans fell through. So what do you do when you cna't bring your brother to Vegas? Bring Vegas to your brother!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of the cake I'm going to get him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBADfA8dVI/AAAAAAAAABg/7V1I2pqpoW4/s1600-h/Poker+Cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOBADfA8dVI/AAAAAAAAABg/7V1I2pqpoW4/s320/Poker+Cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251267594123244882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I guess that's all for now. I do actually have to be at work tomorrow. So yeah, nothing too intellectual here, but when I have more time, I flip the script and drop some knowledge on ya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-3471282394087528859?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/3471282394087528859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=3471282394087528859' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/3471282394087528859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/3471282394087528859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-think-theres-maybe-2-people-in-whole.html' title='Goings On and the Whatnot'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SOA_GZnyznI/AAAAAAAAABY/LfRnF4UkDk0/s72-c/ca+15.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5949965569295621039.post-241208810419432267</id><published>2008-08-31T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T09:05:06.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I'm Listening To Now</title><content type='html'>So these are my two guilty pleasures (musically speaking) right now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coldplay's "Viva La Vida)...I literally squeal every time this song comes on the radio.&lt;br /&gt;"Just Stand Up"...this is a new "various artists" song with (all women) singers like Beyonce, Melissa Etheridge, Carrie Underwood, Mariah Carey, Mary J Blige (my personal homegirl), etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been a Coldplay fan so the first song is a surprise. There's just something about it that really gets me going. I can't explain it. the second song will actually be released on Tuesday. ALL proceeds of the song's sale on iTunes will go toward the Just Stand Up To Cancer! benefit/organization. It's just an uplifting song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also really digging Ne-Yo's "Closer" and Chris Brown's "Forever"...despite the fact that the full version of "Forever" is really an extended version of the new "Doublemint" jingle. Whatever...I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got all these songs on a playlist on www.projectplaylist.com. I love that website. Let me just say, however, that I will actually go buy 'Just Stand Up!" so another dollar goes to cancer research because genetically speaking, there's a very good chance that I'll actually die of cancer when my time comes so I'm better off spending the dollar and hopefully delaying my own mortality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody have a safe and fun Labor Day weekend. And remember...Speed Kills, Click It or Ticket and Over the Limit/Under Arrest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-241208810419432267?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/241208810419432267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=241208810419432267' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/241208810419432267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/241208810419432267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-im-listening-to-now.html' title='What I&apos;m Listening To Now'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-439362293569701257</id><published>2008-07-29T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T10:26:26.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some People</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;I love misdirected, interstate passive aggressive immaturity. Yeah...keep going with that. You wear it so well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-439362293569701257?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/439362293569701257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=439362293569701257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/439362293569701257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/439362293569701257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/07/some-people.html' title='Some People'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-437313253560971381</id><published>2008-07-16T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T15:26:57.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SH374P2eLNI/AAAAAAAAABA/IiGyPyMwrT0/s1600-h/Car+Photo+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SH374P2eLNI/AAAAAAAAABA/IiGyPyMwrT0/s320/Car+Photo+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223608086565891282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um yeah, so I don't update this very often but here I go. Some things have indeed changed since my last post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FINALLY got a new car. The Saturn's transmission died two months ago and there was no way in hell I was going to replace a transmission so two days later, I had a new car. Though the purchase was out of shear necessity, it was still delightful. I got a new Jeep Patriot, which is one of Jeep's small SUV's. It gets pretty good gas milage. I got it because I knew I was not going to be happy in a sedan. I'm sick of driving small sedans. The Saturn made me hate them. so a small SUV was the logical choice and you can find good deals on Patriots these days. They get good marks from MSN (all 7's and above on a scale of 1 to 10) in a bunch of categories like safety and gas milage so I was confident with my choice. Plus, the west coast brother said he thought it was a good choice for me and that meant a lot because I greatly value his opinion. My other brother came with me when I bought the car merely as a male presence and for me to have a sounding board. He told me after everything was over that he was proud of the questions I asked and my haggling skills and that meant a lot as well. Overall, it was a pretty good experience...I say "pretty good" only because buying a car is never "fun," but rather lesser degrees. Unless you're fabulously wealthy and are just paying for the car in cash and can buy anything you want that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, not much has changed. My birthday is in less than two months and I really only want two things...either tickets to see Kathy Griffin here in Atlanta at the Fox Theater on Sept. 5 OR a gift certificate to Psycho Tattoo...actually a Glock .45 handgun would be pretty cool too. I can't believe I just typed that, but it's true. For some reason, people already think I own a gun. I'm not sure why. everybody knows I tremendously enjoyed my afternoon at a shooting range with the Sandy Springs Police Department when I was writing an article about their new service weapons. but that was my first time ever shooting a gun and I haven't shot one since. when I went with my brother who lives locally when he bought a new car a couple weekends ago, he was not looking forward to the experience and asked me if I brought my gun. Why do people think I would own a firearm? Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the next thing. This is completely non-related to anything I just talked about, but I'm just going with the flow here. I can write anything I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was thinking yesterday about my top 5 favorite meal ingredients...as in the top 5 items that if you see them in the description of an menu item, your mouth will automatically start watering. So my 5 are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1). Portabello Mushrooms&lt;br /&gt;2). Balsamic Vinegar&lt;br /&gt;3). Gorgonzola&lt;br /&gt;4). Artichokes&lt;br /&gt;5). Spinach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another completely unrelated topic, I think the movie Steel Magnolias was on the Oxygen network EVERY day this past weekend. Seems like it would get tiresome, but ask me if I watched it 3 days in a row? Whatever. I love that movie. but on the topic of movies, I have to say that shwashank Redemption and American President are my top 2 favorite of all time. If they're on TV, I'll always watch them...even though I've seen them a million times. In particular, I love that monologue towards the end of American President when Michael Douglas' character (POTUS) makes the speech at the press conference right before the State of the Union. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And it goes a little something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"For the last couple of months, Senator Rumson has suggested that being president of this country was, to a certain extent, about character, and although I have not been willing to engage in his attacks on me, I've been here three years and three days, and I can tell you without hesitation: Being President of this country is entirely about character. For the record: yes, I am a card-carrying member of the ACLU. But the more important question is why aren't you, Bob? Now, this is an organization whose sole purpose is to defend the Bill of Rights, so it naturally begs the question: Why would a senator, his party's most powerful spokesman and a candidate for President, choose to reject upholding the Constitution? If you can answer that question, folks, then you're smarter than I am, because I didn't understand it until a few hours ago. America isn't easy. America is advanced citizenship. You gotta want it bad, 'cause it's gonna put up a fight. It's gonna say "You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours. You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country can't just be a flag; the symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then, you can stand up and sing about the "land of the free". I've known Bob Rumson for years, and I've been operating under the assumption that the reason Bob devotes so much time and energy to shouting at the rain was that he simply didn't get it. Well, I was wrong. Bob's problem isn't that he doesn't get it. Bob's problem is that he can't sell it! We have serious problems to solve, and we need serious people to solve them. And whatever your particular problem is, I promise you, Bob Rumson is not the least bit interested in solving it. He is interested in two things and two things only: making you afraid of it and telling you who's to blame for it. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you win elections. You gather a group of middle-aged, middle-class, middle-income voters who remember with longing an easier time, and you talk to them about family and American values and character. And wave an old photo of the President's girlfriend and you scream about patriotism and you tell them, she's to blame for their lot in life, and you go on television and you call her a whore. Sydney Ellen Wade has done nothing to you, Bob. She has done nothing but put herself through school, represent the interests of public school teachers, and lobby for the safety of our natural resources. You want a character debate, Bob? You better stick with me, 'cause Sydney Ellen Wade is way out of your league."&lt;br /&gt;[pauses]&lt;br /&gt;"I've loved two women in my life. I lost one to cancer, and I lost the other 'cause I was so busy keeping my job I forgot to do my job. Well, that ends right now. Tomorrow morning, the White House is sending a bill to Congress for its consideration. It's White House Resolution 455, an energy bill requiring a 20 percent reduction of the emission of fossil fuels over the next ten years. It is by far the most aggressive stride ever taken in the fight to reverse the effects of global warming. The other piece of legislation is the crime bill. As of today, it no longer exists. I'm throwing it out. I'm throwing it out writing a law that makes sense. You cannot address crime prevention without getting rid of assault weapons and handguns. I consider them a threat to national security, and I will go door to door if I have to, but I'm gonna convince Americans that I'm right, and I'm gonna get the guns. We've got serious problems, and we need serious people, and if you want to talk about character, Bob, you'd better come at me with more than a burning flag and a membership card. If you want to talk about character and American values, fine. Just tell me where and when, and I'll show up. This is a time for serious people, Bob, and your fifteen minutes are up. My name is Andrew Shepherd, and I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt; the President. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess that's it. Me in a nutshell. Help! I'm in a nutshell! Somebody get me out of this nutshell. See ya round.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-437313253560971381?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/437313253560971381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=437313253560971381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/437313253560971381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/437313253560971381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/07/um-yeah-so-i-dont-update-this-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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/_tNqv1ojN0lI/SH374P2eLNI/AAAAAAAAABA/IiGyPyMwrT0/s72-c/Car+Photo+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5949965569295621039.post-1851798622103918634</id><published>2008-04-01T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T14:23:09.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time No Blog</title><content type='html'>Um yeah, so I'm now averaging about 5 and a half months between blog posts. That's not bad, right? Well anyway, I think it's because nobody knows about this blog so I don't care to update it. However, I've had a couple friends who recently started a blog on blogger.com so I figured I might get back in the swing of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So updates from the last time we spoke:&lt;br /&gt;-I got a great new job as a Public Information Officer (PIO) for the Governor's Office of Highway Safety. My office is downtown around a whole bunch of stuff...most notably The Underground and a bunch of buildings that lost a bunch of windows in the recent tornado.&lt;br /&gt;-I got married and gave birth to conjoined twins (okay so that's a little April Fools Day joke)&lt;br /&gt;-I still drive my crappy Saturn...God I hate that car.&lt;br /&gt;-I still LOVE sushi&lt;br /&gt;-The Ladies of the Lake (i.e. my roommates and I) are still as crazy as ever&lt;br /&gt;-My brother recently knocked another continent off his travel list&lt;br /&gt;-I've hid a whole host of my brothers' injuries from my mother...scratched cornea, double ankle sprains while snowboarding and most gruesomely, a cracked and uber bloody forehead laceration requiring stitches in the ER. Funny how the 3 Fallon children are all adults (ages 26, 29 and 32), yet we still hide things from Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's really it. Maybe I'll feel creative on the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-1851798622103918634?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/1851798622103918634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=1851798622103918634' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/1851798622103918634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/1851798622103918634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2008/04/long-time-no-blog.html' title='Long Time No Blog'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</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-5949965569295621039.post-916705121386196406</id><published>2007-10-23T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T09:18:44.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;So I'm a a pretty simple gal, but I am kick ass in general. I've been a newspaper reporter since the age of 22. I'm now 26. I've done some cool things and met some cool people, but covered many tragic stories as well. Seeing a woman dead in her driveway after being murdered by her husband is right up there along with the Silver Comet Trail murder of Jennifer Ewing in Paulding County, GA in July of last year are right up there on the tragedy scale. But I've also had some cool experiences like going thru the deadly force training simulator at the Cobb County Police Training Academy, interviewing Wolgang Puck in my second week ever as a reporter and my one and only claim...being a guest on CNN's Nancy Grace three times in 2006.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;My two journalism idols come from two different realms of the industry. First, there's Helen Thomas. I love her for not only being a ballsy chick reporter, but for beginning her career at a time when women were not respected in this business. She has covered the Whitte House since  the Kennedy Administration and began is a double minority in the biz...not only is she a woman, but she also 100% Lebonese. She's 87 now and I believe she only just this year retired from "active duty" in the White House Press Corps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;My second idol is CNN's Christiane Amanpour, the consumate "front line" reporter. She's not afraid to go anywhere or do anything and to my knowledge, she doesnt' go around wearing Prada while reporting from communities devastated by hurricanes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I guess that's it for now. I do actually have a job so I should probably get back to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5949965569295621039-916705121386196406?l=reporterchick.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/feeds/916705121386196406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5949965569295621039&amp;postID=916705121386196406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/916705121386196406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5949965569295621039/posts/default/916705121386196406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reporterchick.blogspot.com/2007/10/introduction.html' title='Introduction'/><author><name>Katie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16913336016708131009</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
