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Showing posts from April, 2014

Tipping: A lost art, science and freedom

On Facebook today, I saw a link to this article.  It talks about signs that you aren't going to get tipped.  It made me think.  Let me start by saying that, yes, most people of my generation do not know how to tip.  Tipping is the polite thing to do.  However, I am going to go out on a limb here and say something else:  You don't tip because waitstaff are paid low wages.  You tip because they earned the tip.  Waitstaff are not entitled to a tip.  Just like I am not entitled to a bonus or a raise each year. If I don't do my job to a minimum level of satisfaction, I don't get a raise. If I do my job particularly well, I get a bigger raise.  If wait staff doesn't do their job to a minimum level of satisfaction, they do not deserve a tip.  If they do their job particularly well, they get a bigger tip.  Tipping is the way for the customer to give the waitstaff feedback. Even though I fit one of the categories in the article (I order all beef products well done), I am

Book Review: I'd Tell You I'd Love You But Then I'd Have to Kill You

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“All these years I'd thought being a spy was challenging. Turns out, being a girl is the tricky part.” I have been debating making this review, because I didn't want to admit that I read, let alone liked, a purely teen-girl novel.  But I decided, I have to admit when a good one comes along.  And it happened. So, here goes. Cameron Morgan and her friends go to Gallagher Academy.  Nominally, it's a school for genius girls.  But it's actually a Spy Academy.  They understand PhD level chemistry, but they don't understand the chemistry that governs teenagers.  They are trained blend into any culture seamlessly, but apparently that doesn't include normal American teens. They can speak about 14 languages with any accent that situation demands.  Unfortunately, Teenage Boy is not one of those languages.  So when they launch an operation to figure out if the boy that Cammie ran into on their CoveOps practice is a "honeypot," they are in way over

I Don't Care if You Remember That I Loved You In Thirty Years or Not

I am a Young Women's Presidency Member.  For those of you who don't speak Mormon, that means that I'm one of the strong and resilient adults who lead the teenage Mormon girls.  Why strong and resilient?  Because anyone who mentors teenagers is strong and resilient.  You will never understand them, because even if you find whatever implant they put in the back of his neck in Ender's Game and put it in the back of their necks, they will still be convinced that you don't understand them.  And so, it won't matter.  Recently, I've been reading a lot of stuff about being a leader of youth in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  And here's a hard thing for me.  They tell us that our number one responsibility is to love them.  And I do.  But I happen to love differently than most people. I have heard lots of times that "They won't remember your handout in thirty years.  They will remember that you loved them."  And that might work f

Let's Get This Straight. My Dystopia Obsession

After writing my post about Divergent , I started to ask myself a very deep question.  When did I develop such a love for dystopia?  I considered that it was The Giver , arguably one of the first dystopias for children. But no, I didn't actually read The Giver until I was about seventeen, and I'm sure it had taken hold a little before that.  I considered it being Fahrenheit 451 .  But though I liked that book, I don't think I sought out other dystopias after reading it.  Then I considered Harrison Bergeron.   I liked it the first time I read it in seventh grade, but I don't think I really knew why at that time.  Then, while sewing and folding laundry and ironing tonight, I decided to watch a movie.  And while watching that movie, I realized what it was. I had decided to watch Gattaca.  Gattaca is a movie that I first saw in Pre-IB science in my sophomore year of high school.  It's a movie about a future where everyone is genetically engineered to near-perfection,

Book Review: Defy

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"As I gripped the hilt of the sword, my mind calmed and my body filled with purpose.  This is who I was--this was what I knew how to do.  I was a fighter." "I want you to know that I'll always be here for you.  When the day comes that [he] breaks your heart and you need a friend to turn to, I'll be right here for you, just like I always have been." A lot of work and a strange all over the place work schedule for the first part of April is already starting to wear me down.  But, it will all be over soon.  So, that's okay.  And another book for the book reviews is ready! I was really nervous about this book, because the author is the daughter of one of my coworkers.  So, I knew that if I didn't like it, I'd be in trouble.  I am far too opinionated to say that I liked something I didn't.  And the book, from online reviews, seems to be one of those "love it or hate it" books.  Lucky for me, I don't have to make that r

Falling With Style: Dear Winter, I Release You

Across the United States, Winter has been retaining a hold.  Some people say that's because of Elsa, from Frozen.  I say that it is because winter doesn't feel loved.  And it needs someone like me, who loves it dearly, to tell it that it's okay to be released until next year.  So that's what I'm doing for you, by playing Vivaldi's Winter Violin Concerto, 2nd movement.  And I was sight reading this, and instead of saying, "I hate you, Winter," while doing this, I was thinking, "I hate you, French Violin Clef." Seriously.  That clef has no purpose.