Me and my sticky notes

what I see in front of me everyday
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

Me and my sticky notes

I love sticky notes. I write everything down on them, epiphanies I have, weekly lists of stories I'm working on and daily to-do lists.
My most recent, flying from the top of my laptop like a banner, is an epiphany:
"I'm the toy men play with before they get married - I'm their last Hurrah!"
Over the last six months when I've opened my yahoo account I've been welcomed by a slue of emails from ex-boyfriends who now want to share photos of their children and dispense love advice. It's not that I'm not happy to hear from them or that their children aren't cute.
It's just exhausting rehashing these old relationships through the rosy-colored glasses of time. It's not that I mind being told how inspirational and magnetic I was or how I provided a way for them to talk and open up like they had never done before. But it begs the questions why didn't they stick around? Rationally, I realize the only answer to that question is: We just weren't a good match.
But in moments when I am particularly lonely and impatient for the arrival of Mr. Right it is harder to hear that more rational voice and I end up driving down the highway screaming angry-woman music at the top of my lungs. Pushing the gas petal into the floor is both terrifying and liberating. I grip the steering wheel at 3 and 9 and feel invincible as I sing:

I COULD BE SO JEALOUS OF SOMEONE LIKE ME. SOMEONE HAS IT ALL YET THEY JUST DON'T SEE.
I SHOUT OUT ACCEPTANCE SO I WON'T GET HURT AND MOVE ON TO THE NEXT ONE WHO WILL TREAT ME LIKE DIRT
TREAT ME LIKE DIRT ... ... ...

(Patti Rothberg - Treat Me Like Dirt)

But it doesn't last, half way home I round a bend and hit traffic. I pump the break. And as the speedometer drops, my anger falls away from me leaving me chilled in the 90 degree heat. I whisper:

Will I need you like the brand new morning sun or will I grow to hate you like all the other ones?
(Patti Rothberg - Perfect Strangers)

I was grateful for the snail pace of the traffic as tears blurred my eyes and sobs shook my body. Finally, I dug a paper napkin out from under the passenger seat and wiped my face, took a deep breath, and continued singing:

It's alright I know I'm going to live because I know you gave the best that you could give.
(Patti Rothberg - It's Alright)

And as I sang the words, I started to believe them. The traffic speed up and I stuck my arm out the window to feel the force of the air as it blew past me. I'm worth the wait, I continue to tell myself, a little more confident with each passing mile. I'm worth the wait.

Life is a dream I'm going to give it a try. Because now is the time to change your ways, now is the rest of your days ... no more hanging on to yesterday
(Patti Rothberg - Change You Ways)

More of my sticky notes for your amusement:

I'm like a 2-year-old I'm uncomfortable without boundaries ...

"Nothing other people do is because of me - it's because of them." Don
Miguel Ruiz

"The boys are teasing Hello Kitty because her head is so big ... I told them it's big cause she's so smart and nice. It makes her so beautiful."
Teagan Knapp, 6

"Wounds breed self-absorption; that is simply human." Olivia to Jeff Sabatini

Holiday week: 32hr work week, day off paid 8 hrs, ONLY WORK 32hrs - note to self

Sycophant: a servile self-seeker who attempts to win favor by flattering influential people
Axiom: Universal truth
Curmudgeons - I've dated some

Percentage of increase: 2003=137 /2004=153 diff-16 16/137=.12x100=12 percent increase

Happy Memorial Day

Modeling our new body armor, is our own Ms. Cobiskey
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

Thank you.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Day!
Love, Olivia

Eating a Persimmon

Portrait of a Tulip
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

Kneading his back
I peel the skin slowly
rolling the taunt flesh between my fingers
exposing the fleshy insides
I rock on him - not knowing
rosier then mine
the fire I've kindled in him
richer then me
the passion I'm appeasing with my touch
I cut it into pieces
Slowly, he takes my hands
small enough to fit into his mouth
and pulls me down to him
I leave the seeds
curling my hands beneath him
Later, I will rip them out with my teeth
he inhales me
I take a small crescent between my finger and thumb
then slowly exhaling he kisses my palms
and slides it between his lips
my knuckles, my fingers
as he takes me in his arms
sensually, fully, completely
to dance with him in the kitchen
I am his

Drill Weekend

Drill Weekend
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

Jon Goke took this photo of me. We were "experimenting" to see how shadows affect the mood of a photograph.

It's my favorite.

The poop they've scooped

poop they've scooped
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

The "pooper scoopers" were the most popular kids at the parade. Even in the rain they jumped into action to complete their smelly job. What really got some laughs, however, was when yours truly walked through a "large" pile of the stuff while trying to interview the kids sitting on the back of the Army truck following the U.S. Army Blue Devils Horse Platoon, the Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment of the British Army and the Queens Cavalry Escort of Honor of the Royal Netherlands Army. Yep! I was standing there in my nice boots in horse manure while people applauded and cheered. Not exactly how I saw myself being cheered by a large crowd. But, hey! Beggars can't be choosers.

We are Hard Core

We are Hard Core
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

The last parade of Tulip Time wasn't cancelled and Dennis and I teamed up to cover it. At one point I called the newsroom, frustrated, and asked how the hell they expected me to take notes in a torrential rain storm. But all was well; I ended up being able to read my soggy scribbles. The photo was taken during the worst of the rain by one of the spectators. People would just watch and laugh as we ran up and down the parade route getting wetter and wetter. It was kind of funny. When I got back to the newsroom I looked like a wet cat and sure feel like one. But thank goodness I had some dry clothes in my car and changed.
Check www.hollandsenitnel.com tomorrow for the stories.

Covering the Queens Cavalry

Covering the Queens Cavalry
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

It took only a brief moment for Leslee Whelan to make the transition from civilian to soldier Friday.
Whelan, mounted, raised his right hand and became the newest member of the U.S. Army Blue Devils Horse Platoon.
Several hundred people braved cooler than normal temperatures and fierce rain to watch the ceremony from the stands as part of Friday's memorial service and skill-at-arms competition and horse show at the Ottawa County Fairgrounds.
Maj. Gen. Robert Pollman, commander of the Regional Readiness Command, said Whelan was the first soldier to take the oath of office while mounted in 113 years.
"It was common before 1900 for the members of the Mounted Infantry and the Cavalry to enlist from the backs of the horses they were to care for, love and trust," said the narrator of the event. "That care, love and trust would pay off in combat, as the horse would repay his rider with is life."
His parents, Buzz and Nancy Whelan of Hartford, watched from the stands tears in their eyes.
"I'm very proud," said his mother, tears streaming down her face. "I never imaged (him joining the military). It was the furthest thing from our minds."
But it makes sense for the young Michigan farm boy, said his mother.
"His grandfather had him on horses since he was 9-weeks old and he’s been riding ever since," Nancy Whelan said.
Riders and horse of the U.S. Army Blue Devils Horse Platoon, the Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment of the British Army, and the Queens Cavalry Escort of Honor of the Royal Netherlands Army stood at attention in remembrance of fallen soldiers. Army Sgt. 1st Class Rick Herrema, a Michigan soldier who was killed two weeks ago in Iraq, Huzaar J.G. Dykers, a Dutch soldier killed during World War II, and Spc. Randy Alyworth, a Michigan soldier killed during Vietnam were just a few of the soldiers remembered as Ruth Roon of Hudsonville, a relative of Alyworth, placed a bouquet of brightly colored tulips on the back of "the spirit horse," a horse that wears no saddle, carries no rider and says for all of us, "We will never forget you, you will live in our hearts, now and always," said the narrator.
Gina and Rick Hutchinson of Waterville, Ohio said they appreciated the memorial service.
"It was very moving," Gina Hutchinson said.
The couple arrived Thursday night with their four daughters and said they were having a good time in spite of the rain.
Cuddled tight against her mother, Lydia, 7, said the horses were "very pretty."
"I like the big ones," she said watching the Queen's Cavalerie perform a mounted charge, racing forward in a single line.
Coming in to visit with the crowd, Sgt. 1st Class Cindy Babb, dressed in a raincoat and hat covered in plastic, rode Norman, a 23-year-old Shire cross named Norman.
"He's really enjoyed himself," Babb said patting Norman on the neck. "He likes to play."
Babb said Norman was a gift to the platoon's Chief Warrant Officer Richard Dyk from the Queen of England.
"He was a police horse used for riot control. He's done it all, he's a great mount to have," she said before heading out to the field.
The ground closest to the bleachers was far too muddy to perform the combat exercises. So riders and horses used the further field to practice their maneuvers.
The horse show included several forms of combat from the Middle Ages to the end of the modern-horse cavalry when skill still mattered in war. Riders performed mounted and authentic lance charges.
After the show, Julie Haan, a Holland-native who now lives in Iowa, said the horse show was originally on her agenda.
"Everything else was canceled," said Haan, who had planned to see the parade and Dutch dances.
However, after watching the horses perform Haan said,
"I'd like to learn more about the history association with these horses, it seems very interesting."
Dressed in gloves and several layers Haan with several blankets pressed to her chest said she brought her three children from Iowa to experience the festival and see where she grew-up.
"I love Tulip Time. I love celebrating Dutch heritage," Haan said.
The appreciation of Dutch heritage is something Ritmeester, translated from Dutch it means Riding Master, Robert van den Berg, finds endearing.
This is the Royal Netherlands Army Head Officer's fourth year in Holland.
"I think we can be very happy and proud of how we succeed and trained with our horses," van den Berg said.
Chief Warrant Officer Dyk agreed.
"We couldn't practice yesterday because it was pissing down rain but I was so proud of them they did so well today," Dyk said. "It was like they knew why we were here."
Both men agreed the rain wasn't too much of a hardship for the horses or the soldiers. They're used to extreme weather changes in the Netherlands too, van den Berg said.
"Rain isn't new to us, only in Michigan is it new," said the captain as he laughed.

Two-Dimensional Zoo

Two-Dimensional Zoo
Originally uploaded by olivia cobiskey.

I commute more than 40 miles a day on I-196 between Grand Rapids and Holland, Michigan. I see the animals on the side of the road. I'm become fascinated by them. It all started last year, a raccoon was laying on the side of the road on the way to Holland. I'd see him everyday - no visual sign of trauma, his fur was neat, he looked fine like he was sleeping. I named him Fred.
I started talking to Fred. I think it was just after my mother had died. I was a little obsessed. I would round the bend of the highway and as I caught a glimpse of him I'd smile and say hello. I watched as his fur got matted and he started to swell and then as his body concaved. I eventually pulled over and buried him. I said Kiddush.
A little while later, the idea for the project started to evolve. Taking photos of the animals, a kind of two-dimensional zoo, to include in an art installation. But what would the installation be about: I'm still not sure. I've played with the idea of talking to the Human Society, getting numbers of how many animals are killed each year on U.S. highways. Or I would use the pictures to talk about how the increased number of child deaths at the turn of the century by automobiles changed how our society regarded children and childhood at the time.

It will eventually come to me.

Right now I'm just taking photos. This was the first photo I took. Usually the animals are raccoons, opossum, sometimes, deer. But seeing a cat is really rare. I decided to start my project with her. Check out my flickr page to see more.

Mother's Day

I'm working on the Sunday centerpiece for Mother's Day. It's a great story about a women who through her husband and sons, has indirectly touched the lives of thousands of children. See her husband and three of her six children are pediatricians. Great story but I found myself swallowing back tears during the interview this morning. (Don't worry I didn't let on) It's been barely a year since my mother passes away and I have to say it's still hard.

Reporter's Notebook on her death

It's over. At 9:05 a.m. Thursday Terri Schiavo took her last breath, 13 days after her feeding tube was removed by a court order. But I have to ask - is it really, over?
This case, which divided not only a family but a nation, challenged both our personal and political beliefs. In the years we have watched her parents, Bob and Mary Schindler, and her husband, Michael Schiavo, struggle over what Terri would have wanted, the case has shone light on euthanasia, the rights of state and federal governments to intervene, and the role of a spouse.
It has defined medical terms like "persistent vegetative state," "brain
damage" and "minimally conscious" for a new generation - many who will have to
decide for themselves what they believe when they are faced with similar
decisions.
In the end the story is less about Schiavo herself than about us all.
On March 9, a doctor phoned me at work from Oregon to explain that my mother's kidneys had failed that morning. He asked me if I was opposed to the idea that he stop aggressively treating my mother's liver failure and simply make her comfortable until she passed, I said no. Tears streaming down my face, I eked out the words, "quick," and "painless."
The doctor then made plans to meet with my grandmother and younger brother, who were already in Oregon, and my mother's current husband, Dan. After meeting with the doctor, my grandmother, my mother's younger siblings and my brother also agreed. We all hoped my mother's death would be more peaceful than the life she had led.
Like Terri Schiavo, my mother did not have a living will. And at first her husband wasn't sure what he wanted. He had watched as my mother got sicker - the ammonia levels in her blood rising -leaving her disoriented on good days, unconscious on bad days. Months earlier, the diabetes she didn't take care of had left her blind.
She rarely left her bed and had fallen over a dozen times. In the end, it was my grandmother who had a long talk with Dan, and eventually he too agreed. I know that I am fortunate that there was little disagreement between my family and my mother's current husband. It was difficult to accept that this man, who'd only been married to my mother for a couple of years, had more say over her life and death than her daughter, son or mother.
And I could not imagine watching my mother die more slowly then she, in fact, did. When I walked into my mother's hospital room all I could think was that this husk - skin grayish-green and
bloated - is not my mother. There was nothing left of the woman who had inspired neurosis and fear in my child self.
It is a misnomer for President Bush to assume these people are weak and need or want our protection - he did not know my mother. She was one of the most headstrong and stubborn
people on this earth and she would have hated lying there depending on anyone or anything.
As the nurses increased the morphine and my mother began to skip breaths, it was hardest for my grandmother - my mother was her oldest child. My brother and I sat on either side of her holding her hands, each taking our turn to make peace with her alone as the hours passed.
At 10 p.m. on Saturday, March 12 - only four days after the doctor posed his question to us - my mother stopped breathing and it was over.
As the days passed my family continued to mourn and discuss our own end of life plans. Many of us are planning to see lawyers and write living wills. We know how lucky we were - this time.
It will be years before my brother and I truly understand the implications and repercussions those days will have on our lives, and I do not envy the Schindlers or Michael Schiavo the years they will have to digest.

Honestly, I'm still struggling with ... I can't even explain what exactly it is I'm struggling with ... I keep staring at the book, "Motherless daughters" and wondering if I pick it up again will I make it pass page 10? I have an essay, meant to be cathartic and finished by my mother's yahrzeit, that I've start again and again but can never seem to finished. I keep waiting for the pain to lessen. Sometimes I think it has but then it sneaks up on me again and I'm a blubbary 5-year-old who's been lost in the department store.
I just hope I can channel my pain into a very beautiful story for her children in celebration of their Mother's Day. And I think I will.

Totally cool site!

I just love this site. It's full of cute photos of animals and odd things. And after a day of running up and down a parade route I needed a good giggle. I hope it does that for you too.

http://cuteoverload.com/

emails from my father

I open my yahoo account this morning and there is a message from my father with the subject line "Three things to think about."
I figure he's reacting to yesterday's blog post - I figure I'm going to be taken to task by the retireed Navy Master Chief. But then to my surprise I get this.

1. COWS,
2. THE CONSTITUTION,
3. THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.

COWS
Is it just me, or does anyone else find it amazing that our government can track a cow born in Canada almost three years ago, right to the stall where she sleeps in the state of Washington? And, they tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 11 million illegal aliens wandering around our country. Maybe we should give them all a cow.

THE CONSTITUTION
They keep talking about drafting a Constitution for Iraq. Why don't we just give them ours? It was written by a lot of really smart guys, it's worked for over 200 years and we're not using it anymore.

TEN COMMANDMENTS
The real reason that we can't have the Ten Commandments in a courthouse is you cannot post "Thou Shalt Not Steal," "Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery" and "Thou Shall Not Lie" in a building full of lawyers, judges and politicians......

It creates a hostile work environment!

(Snicker, snicker, snicker ...)
Maybe it's the lack of sleep - Chleo, the Korean-kitty - woke me up at like 4 a.m. She had the urge to kneed but can only seem to do that on the couch. So, I trek out to the living room and after 30 minutes of kneeding Chleo is fast asleep, head resting on my hip. Me, I am not so lucky. As is want to happen - the early morning hours are filled with the typos realized, nagging questions, still unanswered and regret.
But my father's email, on the face of it, brought a smile to my face. So, I tried to hold on to that and force my mind to stop reeling and rest.