The Definition of Sharing

After an incident this weekend, I decided to go to the source and figure out the exact definition of “share” or “sharing.” (Which, by the way, I find it highly amusing that when you type “Webster” into Google, the t.v. show isn’t event listed until the eighth entry… just thought you should know)


Inflected Form(s): shared; shar·ing
1 : to divide and distribute in shares : APPORTION -- usually used with out
2 a : to partake of, use, experience, occupy, or enjoy with others b : to have in common
3 : to grant or give a share in -- often used with with
4 : to tell (as thoughts, feelings, or experiences) to others -- often used with with

Synonyms: SHARE, PARTICIPATE, PARTAKE mean to have, get, or use in common with another or others. SHARE usually implies that one as the original holder grants to another the partial use, enjoyment, or possession of a thing . PARTICIPATE implies a having or taking part in an undertaking, activity, or discussion . PARTAKE implies accepting or acquiring a share especially of food or drink .


So here’s what I find the most interesting about the definition share, and may give insight into why it’s so difficult to do/practice: the usage scenario we as humans normally associate with the term “share” or “sharing” isn’t really an exact definition, rather it is implied, and typically implied poorly or flat out wrong.

Take for example the “incident” I’m referring to. So I’m inside of this small built-in cabinet (think a kitchen cabinet but within a living room) with a three-year-old, a five-year-old and an eight-year-old (shockingly I have the picture to prove it, which I will post at some point) and they are all arguing over who gets a nice flashlight versus the crappy wind-up flashlight.

(I swear, I’m going somewhere with this)

To keep the screaming down to a dull roar, I calmly ask the seemingly most logical of the three (eight-year-old) to share the flashlight with her two-year-old cousin. I get a resounding “no way.” Of course I ask why, and I don’t really get an answer (mainly because I feel at some level she realizes how stupid it is to be arguing over a flashlight in small cabinet with three other people in the first place).

I try rewording my ask a few different ways with no luck, trying logical reasoning techniques I’ve learned in very expensive work seminars. What I learned is that these techniques cannot be used against individuals under the age of 10. Sigh.

But after looking at the definition of sharing, particularly #3 and the bolded part in the synonym section, kids think of sharing as “giving up” something that they feel is rightfully theirs. And they don’t think, despite your desperate pleas, that they’ll get it back. Rather they associate “sharing” with giving away something for good.

So the next time you’re in a cramped space with multiple children and they start fighting, either remove yourself completely from the situation, or get earplugs. There is just no way out.

See. Jenni. Run

Last Sunday I got to run! Wee! And despite the ridiculous heat and humidity that comes with running at 11:45 in the morning, I was able to go 3.5 miles under 38 minutes. Now while the guy that won the 12k portion ran that in 34 minutes, I'm not down. I can't wait to run it again next year and try and shave more time off.

Here's a link to the results from the race: http://www.doitsports.com/newresults3/client/100525_214360_2007.html I was in the WE are Family group -- or you can just do a search for my name.

Anyways, the next race I'll be running is the Jingle Bell 5K -- so if you want to join in on the fun, let me know.

And for anyone thinking about Birthday/Christmas gifts -- a gift card here would make my day! http://www.runtex.com/

Pics from the race are on Facebook!

Ask and You Shall Receive

So after last night's quick post, apologizing for my lack of writing on here, I spent the evening and the better part of the morning trying to think of something to blog about.

Then this fell in my lap on the way to work this morning, and really, how could you not post something about this ridiculousness:

http://www.wescooppoop.com/

Yes, I passed a pick-up truck for the "We Scoop Poop" people, better known as "Dog Duty." For only $9 a week, you can rid your backyard of all of that poop your dog does.

Or you can save yourself $9 bucks and bag it up yourself. OR, do what Justin and I do, just leave it -- and in a few weeks it goes away on its own, and your grass is greener for it.

I think my favorite part of the Web site is the FAQ section. For example, the first question in my mind is, "What in the heck do you do with the poop after your scoop it? Do you have a manure pile somewhere?" And that just happens to be the first question! Their answer:

"We leave the bag at your house in the roll-away trash can. If you keep your trash can inside your garage, then we leave the bag next to your garage door farthest away from your front door."

Personally, that's just asking for some stupid 14-year-old to walk by and set it on fire, but that's just my opinion.

Another good question, "I have a scary dog. Will you still scoop my yard?"

My answer -- why would you make some poor individual pick up scary dog poop? Why do you have a scary dog in the first place? Anyways, their answer is pretty much yes.

Now, to be fair, after looking at their site, they also provide lawn service and pet sitting -- so they aren't exactly hanging their hat on trying to make a buck picking up just dog crap.

Well, hello there

I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve last posted. It’s funny, because I’ve wrote a few posts, but ended up erasing them and/or not posting them. Guess it’s like calling an old friend you haven’t talked to in awhile. You think about it, and eventually you do it, but it takes a few tries.

So, hello. Long time no talk. ;)




Maybe this posting is more like an answering machine message.

Oh, bother Solved!

Okay, after I calmed down, I went to the ever-wonderful Fitness Magazine Web site (love that magazine!) at found the following document: http://images.meredith.com/fitness/images/pdf/6WeeksTo30Minutes.pdf

It's a workout plan designed to get the beginner runner in shape and kickin' it in time for a 5k. They also had a section for preparing for a 10k, triathlons, marathons, etc. I doubt I'll get that far, but now that I have a plan and direction, my goal is to not look like a running idiot in front of my co-workers ;) I'll keep you guys posted on how I do.

Oh, Bother

I’m freaking out – it’s a month before and I’m freaking out!!

Okay, so here’s the deal – my work is the sponsoring a group of employees for the annual Silicon Labs Relay Marathon. Relay marathon means that you split up the 23 miles for a marathon among five people (I think five people)… So something like, two people do a 10k, one person does a 12k and two people do a 5k. One of the 5k co-workers will be out of town this weekend and I stupidly raised my hand to replace her yesterday afternoon.

And less than 24 hours later, here I am, freaking out. To clarify, I did the 5K Bun Run back in April in about 36 minutes, which is great considering it was my first 5K ever and I’m not that great at running. The problem is, everyone on the team that I’m running with are seasoned pros at running (you know, the ones that are at Town Lake every day or that I see running in my neighborhood with her husband at seven in the morning). So essentially, I’m totally ruining their chances at winning because I suck.

So I have four weeks to prepare (it’s Sept. 29) starting today (I would have started last night, but my piano lesson went to two hours). I’m going to puke, and I haven’t even started running yet.

Why I Blog

I was going through some old boxes my Mom had in a closet a few months back, and stumbled across journals and school projects dating back to elementary school. My favorite document was something my fourth grade teacher sent back to me a year or two ago as she was cleaning out some of her files. Apparently I created this personal dictionary and my own bound book. I’m not going to lie – the stuff was total crap. I mean, how did my parents allow me to turn in such blatant misuse of English for a grade?

Point being – I love writing. I enjoy expressing myself via words – even more so than playing my violin or piano (which honestly, is more like interpretation than expression [as you’re playing someone else’s music for the most part], so it probably isn’t an apples to apples comparison). I remember going to creative writing classes, submitting poems and stories growing up for local contests, and sadly, writing the worst lyrics to songs that I never put music to ;)

That love of writing (and incorrect English usage) got tested my senior year of high school, when a requirement in one of my classes was to write in a journal every other day and submitting the stupid thing for a grade (1-5 scale).

Before we began this year-long assignment, I remember the teacher saying that she rarely gave out 5s. Once that tidbit was revealed, my personal goal for this class (a.k.a. competitive side) suddenly became how many 5s I could get.

I tried everything – sad, happy, wit, humor, insight, death, one page, three pages – to no avail. I never got a single 5, and usually hovered around the 2-3 range, with the occasional 4. Most of the time, the teacher would just complain what a poor writer I was, which I now find slightly ironic since I write for a living. (So, odd thank you for nearly train-wrecking my career path – you made me work that much harder.)

But thinking back, I do think it’s a little wrong to rate a student’s (or anyone else for that matter) equivalent to a forced-personal journal. It’s almost like judging this person’s thoughts, emotions and experiences based on your own set agenda. Now, if she had given us assignments (I want you to write about your thoughts of Chapter 8 from “Cry the Beloved Country”), I could see justification for such grades. But really, it should just be a simple completion grade more than anything. Especially if this perfect score was so subjective. I could probably go into a longer discussion about how most grades are subjective, but I don’t feel like talking about it right now.

Tying it to my present writing, it’s different than a blog – writing that I choose to share and fully expect you to judge how poorly or well-written and insightful each post is based on your own internal criteria that I may or may not be fully aware of. (Talk about a run-on…) Part of me will always care what others think, but at the end of the day, I write this blog for me – to allow the free movement of creative juices, let off steam, express the randomness in my head, voice my latest triumph (or failure) and share who I am and who I want to be.

The End

Right out of a sitcom

This weekend, Justin spent the whole weekend studying and writing for his graduate paper that’s due Tuesday, which meant I was free to go and party! (Note: I would have been free to do that no matter what Justin was doing, it just sounds better that way for storytelling purposes)

After some discussion earlier in the week, Ashley and I decided to go to Hamilton Pool – it is this natural watering hole about 40 minutes West of Austin (between Bee Caves and Dripping Springs). You hike about a quarter of a mile down a fairly steep hill and can either go to the left – where you can continue hiking to the Pernadales River – or take a right towards the watering hole.

I’m not going to lie (my new catch phrase if you’ve been around me the last few weeks), it’s gorgeous. Literally, this amazing, God-created goodness for city folk like myself.

We got there super early, and stayed for about an hour – once people start coming, the area gets a tad crowded and kids are yelling, ruining the serenity of it all.

So, um, we decided to spend the next three hours laying out the country club. Total 180 right? About three weeks ago, one of my friend’s, Kim, told Ashley and me that we look iridescent. So we stayed out about an hour too long at the pool and our backs are red as some random metaphor I can’t think of at the moment.

To make our backs a little worse, today we decided to go hike the Greenbelt and then layout (only on our backs) at Barton Springs. We’re really asking for it. And apparently this 10-year-old walking by us thought we were too.

I’m laying there with my eyes closed, and I hear this voice from in front of me say, “You know doin’ that causes skin cancer, right?”

I open one of my eyes, look around, find the girl through my squinting, and respond, “The key is moderation – if you don’t do this all of the time and use sun screen, you’ll be fine.”

I thought, honestly, that would shut the kid up. I mean, how hypocritical of her – standing there, in the same sun as I am – telling me I’m going to get skin cancer.

And then she’s like, “I’m serious. You’re going to get skin cancer.” At this point, I’m looking around for her parents so she can leave me to my sun/skin cancer.

I politely smile at her and lower my head back onto the towel, hoping the gesture will signal her to try the next group of sunbathers to my right.

“Maybe this will cool you off!” And the kid, out of nowhere, pulls a water gun and sprays me. Then she turns and sprays Ashley, walks to the sunbathers next to me, and sprays them too.

I have to admit, the whole thing was funny, except for the fact I would never allow my child to do spray random people while lecturing them on skin cancer.

At the same time, that water sure felt good on my sunburn.

Drugs=Love

I think I was in ninth grade when I told a fellow friend of mine, “If I ever act like that when I’m dating someone, slap me.” I think girls notice it more than guys do – once your girlfriend starts dating someone, you take the back seat, and honestly, they act like idiots.

And I can say this, because the latter half of high school, I’m pretty sure I was one of those idiots. I had a few friends verbally slap me, but it didn’t do me any good.

Looking back at this period of my life, sometimes I wonder why I was such a dipstick. I’m sure my parents think that too. And apparently, now we know why. According to this study I saw on the Today Show this morning (no link is up yet, but I’ll post it once it’s available), researchers took the brain of someone who is spaced out on drugs, and compared it with someone who is in love. Apparently the brain shared many of the same characteristics as someone who does lots of drugs.

The whole thing makes sense, because breakups suck – it’s like you’re going through detox, or you end up with the guy again (can’t break the habit). In fact the more I think about it, the more love is exactly like some type of mind hallucinogen.

That said, I’m quite content with the state of things in my relationship. And I’m pretty sure I don’t act like an idiot or drive my parents bonkers. Of course, it could be that I’m not 17.

Change

I love going to weddings with my husband – he’s a great date – but sometimes I get so embarrassed. Not by him surprisingly – he actually looks pretty sharp when he tries – but by myself.

Take this past weekend for example. We attended the wedding of a friend of ours – I’ve known her since about seventh grade, and Justin knew her ever since elementary Quest days (where the smart kids went during elementary school while the stupid ones got left behind – obviously I’m bitter).

So we’re sitting there looking at the program, and Justin’s holding my hand, and I’m already crying. I don’t even think the grandmothers’ had been escorted down the aisle yet. I just remember looking over at Justin, saying, “She’s going to have a different last name now!! Wahhhh!”

Thinking about this a few days after the fact, I’m still trying to comprehend exactly why the name change upset me. I mean, more than three years ago I changed my name and I didn’t cry over it (though I should have – my former last name ruled).

I guess what it boils down to is the idea of change. I hate change. But, at the end of the day, I’m getting older, parents are getting older, and the decisions and changes we make affect our lives far beyond the decisions we made even seven years ago as college freshman.

And I was going to finish this blog with a really good quote from someone knowledgeable and wax eloquent on change like no other. One of my favorite sites for digging for these types of quotes is www.quotationspage.com and I’ve used it ever since high school debate (see – I don’t change much).

So, I set the search button to only search “classic quotes”; that is, people that are smart and old (Plato, Shakespeare, Margaret Thatcher, etc.). And I come across this quote: “I won't change anything because I think the most important thing is being yourself and that's what I'm going to continue to do.”

Stupid Avril Lavigne. Who the heck told her she is a classic quoter?! And what kind of insight on change is that? Bullcrap. That is one change I would embrace and look forward to – her music and idiocy dropping off the face of the earth.

When marketers go too far...

As if the song wasn't annoying enough already.

My favorite moments from Seattle...

Here are two of my most favorite moments from Seattle:

We're crossing the street and I'm in my beloved Doc Marten sandals from college (rather, running across the street because cars were coming and we were jay walking), and the sole of my shoe comes completely off and I have no time to collect it because cars are coming. Luckily it wasn't run over by the 7-10 cars that went by, and I was able to go fetch it, and take a picture in the process. Yes, I know I'm in need of a pedicure.

Phuket Thai Cuisine. HAHAHA! It's like that South Park episode and the Chinese restaurant called City Wok -- but it's pronounced Shitty Wok. Okay, I'm amused easily and I know that.

Yikes! It's Been Awhile

You know when your uncle asks if you're still blogging, it's been awhile ;)

So I guess that honeymoon period at work is over, because I've been quite busy the last few weeks, which is why my last post is from almost a month ago! As we speak, it's about 9:43 p.m. in Seattle and I've had quite a long day, starting with a great wake-up call from my boss at 6:30 a.m. telling me there was a mini-crisis with the client. Sigh. Glad that got straightened out -- unfortunately, I had to wake up my co-worker who is also in Seattle so we could get the whole situation fixed. Blah. Luckily, it wasn't our fault and we had tons of e-mails to prove it.

After that, I raced to get ready so I could be at an account training down the street for work. Busted out of there after about nine hours, came back to the room to check e-mails, and then ate at Chanantee Family Thai -- apparently one of the best Thai places in Seattle. And dang, it was a solid effort, that Phad Thai was. Yum.

We leave tomorrow, and I can't wait to come back to Seattle honestly. I like the people, the environment here, and the downtown owns.

Best part about the trip? I'm rereading the sixth Harry Potter book on the plane ride. I'm halfway after the flight here, so it's realistic to think I can knock out the rest on the way back. Clutch.

Here's a link to some of the places we went downtown (like Rite-Aid... they need these in Texas), and some people flinging fish. Because that's what they do here. Oh, and best part about them flinging the fish? We got all girl giggly when they threw it, started to walk away, and they threw a fake stuffed fish at us. Except we thought it was real at first. We screamed. It was funny. But you probably had to be there. :)

http://www.flickr.com/gp/23677584@N00/R969Vv

You'll note I also took a picture of the ferry area where the scene from Grey's Anatomy was shot. You know, the one where the series jumped the shark with the whole life/death/ghost bullcrap.

Okay, I'm sleepy. My clock here says 9:50, but my computer says 11:50.

People are idiots.

Someone told me about an incident that happened a few months ago with the Washington Post and violinist Joshua Bell. Watch both clips.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0KdAXLSO0Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnOPu0_YWhw

Sigh... only one person recognized him. It's not even like the violinish (term loosely used) that sits at the corner between 6th and 7th on Congress that attempts to play.

Today in History

1942: The Office of War Information was created, with the intent of disseminating timely information of American’s war effort through film, texts, photos, radio and posters to its citizens – you know, those super cool-looking “We can do it” posters of women, presumably “doing it.” “It”, I suppose, is subject to interpretation – but I say whatever those women were doing, they were doing “it” better than men.

1966: The Supreme Court ruled on the landmark case – Miranda vs. Arizona – and the “Miranda Right” was created. Personally, I think everyone knows by now that you should have an attorney present before answering any questions, but people somehow still forget. Oh, and you freakin’ idiot cops that don’t read Miranda Rights because you “forget” – I’m onto your game. I’ve seen enough Law and Order to know what you’re trying to pull.

1988: The world didn’t know it, but it was about to witness overuse of the word “Dude” by four-year-old twins – MK and Ashley turn 20 today. I don’t know – I thought they were at least 21… Oh, and fellow former network pal Tim Allen turns 53 today (she types as she sings the Home Improvement theme song).

1994: A jury found Exxon Corp. and the captain of the boat that leaked a ridiculous amount of oil in Alaska, guilty of being idiots with oil and killing some adorable wildlife (I’m pretty sure I sent part of my allowance to help clean up the poor birds that got oil all over them).

2000: Two 18-year-olds decide that their summer is going to be boring as hell if they didn’t have someone to hang out while having make out privileges.

2004: After a pregnancy scare, two 22-year-olds decide that a dog is a much better option. Especially one that comes to your house and immediately passes out on the couch, and who has the coolest old-man name ever.

I Hate MySpace

And yet I continue to log on daily. I can’t stand the fact that half of their features work less than half the time. If I was the Facebook founder, I was be seriously miffed. Facebook is a superior service, yet more people use an inferior product. I suppose it’s the Web 2.0 version of the Microsoft/Apple tale.

I’ve often thought of deleting both accounts all together, just because I’m sick of the time suck each provide, but I correspond with some individuals solely through these two web communities. *Sigh*, why can’t people go back to e-mailing? *Bigger sigh*, why can’t people go back to calling on the phone??*HUGE SIGH*, why are we suddenly confined to devices for interpersonal communication instead of more 1:1 interaction in person???

I guess I understand now why my parents “just didn’t understand” things. I barely understand things now, especially when it comes to teenage interactions – like through MySpace and Facebook. For example, I was watching “High School Musical” for the first time on Saturday (that is a blog entry in itself… good Lord), and at the beginning of the movie when the two leads are exchanging phone numbers, I thought they were just going to write their numbers on a piece of paper. I was seriously thinking to myself, “Why on earth is he taking a picture of her?” Followed by, “Why on earth is she taking a picture of him?” Conclusion: I need to get a camera phone so I can partake in this activity.

Okay, so at the end of the day (or blog), I’m not going to delete either one of these accounts. Maybe it’s because I enjoy both on some level, or I care enough to right a blog rant about it but not actually go through with it. Hmmm.

If you're near a T.V. in Austin...

Check me out on the 4 p.m. and 6 p.m. news discussing what the Las Manitas Cafe forgiveable loan means to downtown and other Austin businesses.

Because apparently I'm an expert on city council agendas and politics.

Because I sit on a bench in front of the restaurant.

Because it was my first time eating at the restaurant.

It's going to be on NBC-KXAN Channel 36 -- I'll see if there will be a video stream on the Web site later.

The New Digs

For the two of you that care, here are some pictures of my workspace at the new job.



This area is to the immediate right of my main sitting area. I have pictures of people, silly decorative items (like my Grey's Anatomy valentine cards), and my coveted Ikea lamp.

I am a firm believer in the two monitor workstation, as I've noticed sharp increases in my productivity. Seriously. Oh, and that's the newest Mr. Potato Head -- it's a transformer -- Optimusmash or something.

This area needs serious work. You can see some Dave stickers at the top, my Bloomberg flipflops acting as a book holder thingy, and some pictures of my husband and dog. Oh, and my phone headset. That's nice when you're in a cube.

In cube world, outside light is glorious. And I have a window that looks out to -- ANOTHER WINDOW. Haha.

Here is the entryway into my cube, with a terrific view of Sixth Street, Whole Foods, the Hill Country and you can't see it in this picture, but the lake. Nice.

Probably the coolest thing about the job is everyone's in cubes -- from the top of the organization to the bottom.

At my previous job, a lot of people made a big deal about the size of their office, what direction it was facing, and then the wee babies were in the cubes. Saddness. Anyways, I like this everyone approach -- it leaves out the drama.

For your viewing pleasure...

I got the eyebrows done this morning -- and because of a few requests, I decided to take some before and after shots.

And in the process, I've decided to share some eyebrow wisdom I learned along the way.

1. Waxing is bad. I got that idea back in November when this idiot screwed up my eyebrows and all of the hair still has not grown back.

2. Waxing is bad because it pulls the hair folicle out in such a way that it takes it six months or longer to grow back (my current problem).

3. Waxing is also bad because it takes a little skin with it -- and in time -- around the 40s is my understanding -- your eye area will start to sag and look older than it should.

So let me just say, my eyebrows -- as she put it -- still have a lot of work to go before everything is fully grown back in and normal. I have these bald spots that make it difficult to fully shape the brows properly.

But, I also learned about where exactly my eyebrows should begin and end, and where my arch should be placed. It was quite informative.

So, take the before and after with a grain of salt -- as I've got some bald spots that need to fill in, but in a year, everything should be back to normal.

And by the by -- the next available appointment I was able to secure is January 4, 2008. Holy crap, this woman needs to duplicate herself.

Why do I have to work?

It’s not that I don’t like working – okay well, really… who likes to really “work” – so let me rephrase. It’s not that I don’t like working at my current establishment, because I do, it’s that my job interferes with a variety of activities I would rather be doing. Like the Alamo Drafthouse’s Summer Kids series.

Okay, within that title states the obvious – I am not a kid; therefore, it would make since that your job would, in fact, appear to interfere with such an activity.

I mean, I really want to see “The Muppets Take Manhattan” on Monday at 11 a.m. – it’s my favorite Muppets movie EVER. Like, I cried when Kermit didn’t recognize Miss Piggy the first time I saw that scene (an subsequently fast forwarded through the scene because it broke my heart to watch that scene).

And Lord, I rolled when Gonzo did the water skiing act with the lady chickens.

AND OMG – the scene where Sweedish Chef takes the two popcorn containers and does his, “Deet deet deet deet deet deet” had me and my sister re-enacting the scene all the time. Seriously, I just paused to do it right now.

Sigh. I don’t like being a grown up. That has to be it. Being five (before kindergarten) was just the most perfect age.

And I didn’t tell you this – but Justin totally tears up when he listens to the John Denver and the Muppets CD – the Christmas album – especially the second song, when Rolf is singing, and then he’s like, “John…” Please tell me you know what I’m talking about!!!