FOLLOWER Friday: The Cousins

  This story was written by Toni Duldulao

I give up!  The BOBB is my cousin and she has managed to get her sister, son, and friends to write something.  She didn’t ask me but I felt that someone has to represent this side of the family.  After all, I AM FAMILY!  She and Malati are my cousins.  Of course being the first born of our generation I always considered myself the older and wiser leg of “The Cousins”  but in reality I am just older…in fact three years older than the BOBB.

Family relationships can be a funny thing.  As children, we grew up during a time when families got together at Nana’s house for Sunday dinner.  While our parents…the brother, sisters, and spouses talked about whatever they talked about…my cousins and I would spend the day playing, running around the yard, and chasing each other up and down the stairs.  Unbeknown to us we were setting in stone a relationship that has been a lifelong one. 

On those Sundays, we could be who we were.  There were no pretensions.  There wasn’t a teacher or an adult telling us how to behave in a certain way.  Of course, our parents did raise us to be respectful to adults and of one another.  They didn’t have to tell us it was just expected and if we forgot, they would remind us.

Now when we do see each other there are the friendly family type greetings.  After a few minutes of “catching up” maybe followed by some quiet awkwardness, inevitably someone will say, “Do you remember when…?”  We would laugh bringing up other memorable incidents of our childhood Sundays and laugh our way back to those days.

Back then little did I know how precious those Sundays would become to me.  As adults, we rarely see each other because we live in various parts of the state.  In reality about the only time we do get together now is when some family member passes away.  Yet when we do see one another all it takes is tapping into that little Sunday memory of decades ago, then time and distance melt away and we become just “The Cousins” once again.

 photo by geezaweezer

TECH Thursday: Facebook Timeline Is Coming

by Shinazy

Yes, it’s coming.  


We may not like it, but over the next few weeks it will arrive.   


It is Facebook Timeline and when you decide you like it, it will function as your personal ‘website’.  


To get a head start, I changed to Timeline and went through the Help Center, step-by-step. Below are my notes:


Our ‘TIMELINE’ is just to the LEFT of the listing of our friends

• Hover over – this is an important action.  In order to do many things in Facebook’s Timeline, I needed  to Hover over something to see what I was looking for.  So, remember, when frustrated, Hover over items.
• To Hide A Story

o   Hover over the story and click ‘Hide from Timeline’.  The story will stay in your ‘Activity Log’ which only you can see, or

o   Click ‘Delete Post’ and it is gone forever !

• To Add A Story

o   On the left side of the screen, you will see this

  

o   Click the type of thing you want to add:  a Status, Photo, Place, Life Event

o   Write what you want to say

o   Using the 3 tiny icons at the bottom left, you can Tag a Friend, Pick a Date for the story, and/or Add a Location

o   Decide who can see your story

§   IMPORTANT !!  Life Events are Public until you change the ‘Audience’

• To Change the Privacy Setting on this story

o   Click the upside down triangle to the left of the word Post, a drop down menu will appear.  Now you can select Public, or Friends, or Only Me

• To Change the Privacy Setting on ALL your post

o   I recommend you go to the Help Center.  (You cannot undo your change and I’d rather you hear it from / hold Facebook accountable if something goes amiss.)

• To see what your Timeline looks like to others

o   Find this     it is to the left of your Timeline

o   Click on the upside down triangle and click on ‘View As’

o   You can also type in the name of a friend

• Cover Photo

o   I had no trouble loading my new picture from my computer

o   I can change it any time I want.

• Privacy

o   Go to “Home” (upper right corner), click on the upside down triangle, --> Privacy Settings

§  See “How Tags Work”, click on “Edit Settings” --> change “Maximum Timeline Visibility” from “Public” to “Friends” --> Done

§  To change all past posts from “Public” to “Friends only”:  Go to “Limit the Audience for Past Posts,” click “Manage Past Post Visibility”
      --> Read ALL the words, then decide what you really want to do.

My opinion of the Facebook Timeline: 

• Yes, it looks different and it will take me awhile to know automatically where to look.
• It’s easier to jump to the past via the Timeline slide bar. 
• I like that I am able to ‘Edit Thumbnail’ and ‘Scale it [to] fit’.
• Via the ‘Activity Log”, I like that I can control what’s on my page and in my Timeline.  And of course, I starred all the Bitchin’ Ol’ Boomer Babe postings.
• I need to remember to HOVER.
• I’m still unsure about how the post from my friends will look in Timeline and how easy it will be for me to comment.
• It’s great that the Facebook Timeline lets me post stuff to the past.
• The Help Center is helpful.

Let me know if you are having difficulty with any of the Facebook Timeline changes and I’ll help you and post the answer here in BOBB, so we can all learn.

Good Luck to us all !

   photo by Danja

WISDOM Wednesday: Root Canals, Friendship & Personal Growth

This story was written by Malati Marlene Shinazy 

I want to thank Sheri Robinson, Editor Babe, for her help crafting this story.

The need for a root canal sometimes just sneaks up on us.  One day I’m unconsciously consuming a thousand chocolate chip cookies, and then suddenly I feel an unrelenting pain in one of my molars. 

That afternoon, I’m in my dentist’s chair, getting a root canal.  The process hurts so much I grow in character just having endured it.

Could I have done anything to prevent this?  Say, eaten fewer cookies?  No… in this case the root canal was due to a low-grade infection that sat for years, undetected.   

Oddly, like low grade infections, my unconscious behaviors with friends can sit latent for years and become toxic, and on rare occasion erupt, causing an abrupt and painful end to a friendship.

Usually my friendships are a source of shared enjoyment and comfortable acceptance.  The flaws in each of us are overlooked because, in balance, the contentment of the friendship outweighs them.    Then something unexpected happens.

Ten years ago, one of my closest friendships ended quite badly – horribly, with a lot of finger pointing and accusatory shouting.  It was quite ugly.  Like a two year old, I privately ranted, calling her all those labels that would hurt her if I ever said them face-to-face.  “She is egotistical and self-centered; a horrible and stupid human being.  I never want to talk to her again, ever-ever!”

Unlike like a two year old, however, instead of addressing her directly, I typed the words next to her name in my cell phone.  Should she ever dare call, my caller ID would warn:  “Josie / STUPID & selfish”

Years passed with no communication.  Then one day, a text from Josie arrived.  Having long forgotten the poorly ended friendship, I replied.  After multiple rounds of texting… she suddenly stopped.  After a few weeks, I texted her:

Me: “What happened to you?”

Josie:  “What happened?  What do you think happened?  I’m going to keep talking to you while you continue to call me names?”

As if picking up from our past, I retorted, “Are we going to start this finger-pointing thing again?”

Then I remembered… the old notations after her name still remained in my phone!   

I immediately felt embarrassed and ashamed.  Like the undetected infection in my mouth, the deep-seated, immature meanness in me had caused Josie emotional pain.  I immediately began an excision process, a sort of deep cleaning to rid myself of this tendency and to be conscious of it going forward.   And – right now – to update my phone.

When I called Josie to offer a truly heartfelt apology and explanation of why I was “calling her names” in our previous texts, we talked at length about how we each behaved a decade ago.  I shared with her the unscheduled but necessary mental-emotional “root canal process” I needed before calling to apologize.  I sensed we both had grown and perhaps would rebuild our friendship. 

After I hung up I had to laugh ….  

It was mother’s insistence that I go to the dentist twice a year.  And, sometimes, I still needed the dreaded root canal…  But, as I mentioned before, I grew in character just having endured it. Now, with a lovely new crown set in place I could continue my life, spontaneously glinting a healthy smile.

 As I’ve come to discover, the same can be true with my friendships.

   photo by Malati Marlene Shinazy 

Caring For The Skin I'm In

by Shinazy

I decided to come here.  I’ve been coming here every 5 weeks for 20 years.  Even when I was unemployed I came here.  During those lean months, I terminated my cable TV, walked rather than drove, removed any unnecessary expense so I could continue to come here.

Today, just like every other time before, I lay on a bed that contours my body . . . a bed of jumbo cotton balls.  The room is painted in a green that bears the undertones of everything in nature.  The ceiling is the color of the sky at the horizon and there’s a dome painted an enveloping shade of blue; it’s dotted with tiny LED lit holes.  I’m reminded of dusk in Tahoe after the last spring snowstorm.  As I stare into the ethereal sky, I see constellations, never the same ones, and maybe only imaged ones.  It’s easy to breathe. . .  I feel I’ve always been here, and during these 90 minutes, I’m disconnected from everything.

I’m also here so that Liza can renovate my skin.  She is a beauty alchemist, a master aesthetician.  Liza applies masks, serums, mists, creams, and uses the latest technology in skin care.  She removes boulders when I’ve been in the desert for weeks, peels layers of residue from gallons of sunscreen and sweat when I train for a marathon, evens my skin tone after days of mid-summer solar exposure.  I emerge restored. 

Skin care is part of my family’s DNA.  My grandmother was a Noxzema Girl.  She toted the cobalt blue jar everywhere.  During our annual Buck’s Lake vacation, she would even smear Noxzema onto the face of her favorite stable horse, who had a skin condition.  By the end of our stay, the horse’s skin was radiant, just like my grandmother’s.

My mom used Pond’s Cold Cream – “an evolution to skin care.”  I remember her using it to clean her face in the morning, laying the foundation for her “paint,” and removing the make-up at night.  She always receives complements on her skin – claiming it is all due to her dedication to her skin care routine and Pond’s.

Does all this attention to skin care make us appear younger?  Well, my grandmother always appeared old, because she was . . .  my grandmother.  My mom never appears old, because she is an accomplished make-up artist.  I appear - my age.  So, why all this devotion to our skin?  Why do I continue to come here?

I like clean skin.  I want my skin to reflect my good inside health on the outside.  And, when I look you in the eye, your eyes see just that . . . great skin.

Thank you Liza!  I’ll see you in 5 weeks.

- - - - - - -

You can find Liza at www.eliteskincare.com

photo by Craighton Miller  http://craighton.me/

FOLLOWER Friday: Ode to Bobbi’s Eyebrows

  This was written by Roberta ‘Bobbi’ Rankin

Yo, eyebrows where have you gone? 

I see less and less of you every day 

You let me down

You betrayed me

I have a few words for you...... 

In my youth you were strong,

Arched and nicely dark brown. 

You were the envy of my friends

So easy to care for, too. 

I could wink and flirt with confidence

Having the fullness of the perfect brows.
Today, I must color you when I color my hair

I’ve become a slave to my eyebrow pencil. 

Oh, too much pencil color or too little?

This becoming the ongoing morning battle.
Now, more than ever as age begins

To try and take you away,

I need you. 

I need you to be strong

I need you be of color,

To help me face the world

I want you eyebrows to stay the same

And not let me down...

Not disappoint or betray me...

You know what I talkin’ about?

Alas, at this time in my life,

Have I not more fun and important things to do

Than to pour such pity onto myself,

Over eyebrows?

Really?  

I think I do. 

I think I'll put my cap on

Go for a long walk along the lagoon

Enjoy the world

Enjoy my life as it is today. 

I know for a fact that I have today,

Faded eyebrows 

You aren't important any more.

I think I'll save myself this grief

Simply say no more,

About my eyebrow betrayal, that is. 

For as sure as I'm sitting here

I do have more important things to talk about

About  __________________

- - - -

Bobbi departed for her first Hawaiian vacation before she could finish... So, I invite you - How would you complete her ode?  Please post a Comment or email me and I'll post your completion to ‘Ode to Bobbi's Eyebrows’.  Have fun!

    photo by Bobbi

WISDOM Wednesday: “The Great Squirrel Wars”

  This story was written by Malati Marlene Shinazy

This is a true story… I have to tell it. Of course I changed the names -- I treasure my friendships, all of them. -- ms

“So, you think tree squirrels are beautiful?” exclaimed Jim to Walt and me over coffee. "Well, a bunch of them live in the pine trees in my back yard.”

(As he became more animated, I started to pay attention… this is going to be an interesting story.)

He continues, sputtering, almost in one breath:

“I hate these squirrels! They come scuttling down the utility wires and jump into my trees.  Now these aren’t little trees, they’re 60 feet tall! They’re the most beautiful pine trees in the neighborhood. So yesterday, I went to the sporting goods store and spent $200 on a pellet gun.”

(‘Please, please, NO’, I say to myself… I know where this story is going and I’m not sure I really want to hear the rest of it.)

“Those squirrels. You know what they do, don’t you? They go up into my trees, sit up there, pull off the green pinecones and shred them with their teeth to get to the seeds.”

(Are these the seeds we city folks call pine nuts?  I had to ask him to tell me more.)

“So, they sit up there, these squirrels, shredding the pinecones to get to the seeds, which are inside something that looks like an apple core. Stuff showers off the pinecones onto my driveway, sidewalk and front porch. I’m sweeping two to three times a day.”

“I hate it. I had to buy an extra-heavy duty broom too.”

“Plus, every year, I hire a pruning guy to thin out the trees. I tell him, ‘Don’t come down until you’ve taken off EVERY pinecone!’ This costs me $1500 bucks. … If I skip a year, those squirrels come back, the shredding comes back and the sweeping comes back.”

“Today, I sat out there on a lawn chair in the front yard, waiting for them to be visible up there in those trees.”

(A new image pops into my head. Guerrilla warfare: Man vs. Squirrel.)

“I’m waiting out there with my pellet gun, waiting for them to be visible, which they never are….  They just sit up there yacking at me. I can never see them. They’re up there laughing!”

My other friend, Walt, is now tallying the cost of this battle:

• Pruning, $1500
• Heavy-duty broom, $50 plus tax
• Pellet gun, $200
• If the police hear:
• Time in jail
• Bail to get out of jail
• Court fees
• Attorney fee
• Huge fine

“It’s getting a bit expensive”, he laughs…

(Jim’s account of The Great Squirrel Wars is at once hilariously funny and a tad crazy, I think… I use to rake leaves daily for months every autumn. How can this squirrel stuff be any worse? What’s the big deal? … Although the situation is clearly exasperating for him, he’s enjoying the telling and I’m enjoying his sincere narration.)

(Verbally stumbling with laughter, I naively ask some variation of a line from Mars Attacks!  “So why can’t you all just get along?”)

His response, “Because they don’t sweep and clean up after themselves!”

(I sit there, more than a bit perplexed. I truly have nothing to say… I suddenly realize -- I really don’t understand war at all.)

-  -  -  -  -

BTW: 
All of our animal friends remain safe and happy. ~ shinazy (BOBB's founder)

photo by Gilles Gonthier

Sisters

by Shinazy

I have a younger sister and of course, that made me ‘Big Sister'.  Yes, I bossed her, taught her, protected her, and learned all her secrets and dreams. 

We did all the things sisters do: dressed each other’s dolls, we wore each other’s sweaters, hid under each other’s bed covers reading fan magazines.  We lived together for only 14 years (the math: me 3 when sister arrived on the scene, me gone after I graduated from high school).  When I think about it, 14 years is a very short time to know someone as deeply as I know my sister.  Or so, I thought.

What I’m realizing now, is that there’s much about my sister, Malati, that I am just now discovering and there is much we have in common that was previously unknown to me.

You and I have read her stories over the past three weeks on Wisdom Wednesday.  During this time, you and I have come to know her, and she has revealed aspects of her personality that I read and exclaimed, “Hey, that’s me, too.”

Last Wednesday, in “What’s So Great About Mentoring?” she said, “So, as we now know is typical for me, I just plunged in" . . .  That line describes me, too!  As I read her words, I thought of my earliest memory of when I-plunged-in.  It was more literal then figurative - It was when I learned to swim, or rather how I learned to stop drowning.

I was 9.  At a motel in Redding.  It was midweek and the pool area was empty, just me and all that fatal, forbidding water.  For the previous five years, my aunt had tried to teach me to swim and for five summers, I drowned.  But, on that day, it was time for me to plunge in and so I did.  Standing at the deep end, alone, toes creeping closer and closer to the edge until only my heels remained connected to the safe solid earth.  Well, I am here telling you this story, so there was no drowning that day.  And because of the success of that plunge I repeated that behavior – We, the sisters, repeat that behavior.

Starting this blog is my latest plunge: one day I'm talking to my daughter, who encouraged my wild thought of fulfilling a dream to write. A short week later, I'm announcing to my sister that Bitchin’ Ol’ Boomer Babe was born.

For me this blog has become more than a way to express thoughts and tell stories.  It is a place for me to learn more about my sister . . . about being sisters.

  photo by Shinazy