Chicken Soup for the NASCAR Soul

Being afraid of any bug you can kill with one stomp.

Why we use those little fish food pellets for communion. We have multi-million dollar sound systems. Bread is too expensive?

Why none of the children I grew up with had peanut allergies, but today every third kid swells up if he walks past a jar of JIF.

The parents who bring two year olds to the 10:00 movie. I know, you can’t get a sitter and you, wrongly, believe your child will fall asleep or play quietly. Let me tell you what will really happen: he will wriggle and wail and neither you nor anyone else in the theater will enjoy (or hear) the movie they paid $11 to see.

Decorative soap.

Why one of my investment reports arrives wrapped in thick black plastic. My mailman probably thinks I’m ordering porn.

Being passive-aggressive. It requires so much more energy in the long run.

Non-Italians who pronounce ricotta “Reeh-coht-tah.” (Maybe that’s something I find annoying, not confusing. Hmm—another list idea.)

Why I have to remove my shoes and scrimp on shampoo to get through airport security but the catering people and luggage handlers who actually spend their days hanging around airplanes receive only occasional security checks.

People who ask a question and then interrupt you as you start to answer.

Why church leaders obsessed with “cultural relevance” also preach 35 minute sermons.

Further confusion here.

Just type in the amount you want to lie about on your expense report, and Expense-A-Steak will do the rest, even providing digital versions of rumpled, slightly unreadable, but legit-looking receipts.

In my quest to become more positive, I am trying valiantly to look forward to the upcoming winter season, otherwise known as The Five Straight Months of Cold Feet. In that spirit (the positive one—didn’t you identify it in the previous sentence?) I have attempted to brainstorm some good things about winter:

1. Sitting by the fireplace TO GET WARM

2. Reading a good book while snuggling under a blanket TO GET WARM

3. Wrapping great scarves around my neck in jaunty positions TO GET WARM

4. Burrowing under the covers with my hot water bottle TO GET WARM

5. Enjoying cafe au lait and hot chocolate TO GET WARM

6. Wearing soft merino wool sweaters TO GET WARM

7. Cuddling with a nice boy TO GET WARM

8. My fun peacoat with gold buttons I bought TO GET WARM

9. Steaming hot baths with essential oils TO GET WARM

10. Fuzzy chenille socks that I wear TO GET WARM

Yeah, this is going well.

I haven’t received one “yes” to a prayer in five years.

Clarity about whether to leave California? Guidance about which professional avenues to explore? Opportunities to be proactive and positive in a negative situation? Improvement of my physical health? A spiritual breakthrough with an atheist boyfriend?

Nyet.

On the other hand, I’ve received many blessings I never asked for: the health and safety of my loved ones. A good church and new friends in Nashville. More freelance work than I really have time for.

Needless to say, this causes me to ask questions.

For one, was I asking for the wrong things? They all seem like healthy and God-honoring requests to me.

And was I asking with the wrong motives? I don’t think so.

If asking is okay, and I asked for good reasons, and still I receive no answers (or “no” answers), we arrive at my latest question: Should I bother?

Perhaps I’m just going to get what I’m going to get—which is certainly more than I deserve, and certainly God’s prerogative. In that case, the goal becomes gratitude in spite of his apparent silence. And that means daily opportunities to grow in patience and maturity……which is probably what I should have been asking for the whole time.

My dad once told me God’s no answers are often the prelude to a yes we never could have imagined. If that’s true, I’m more than ready for the next movement.

Which year of your life would you most like to live over again because it was great? And which year would you most like to live again so you could do things differently?

I’d love to re-live my senior year in college. My three closest friends and I had a two-room suite at the end of a hallway in the best dorm on campus. (One of the perks of having an RA as a roommate. The downside was we also had chores during fire drills.) I’ve never laughed so hard in my life or had so much innocent fun, which is the only kind you can have in western PA. It starts snowing in October and goes strong until April.

On the other hand, I’d like to re-do 2005 for some other reasons. Personally, professionally, emotionally, even physically—I’d make completely different choices knowing what I know now.

We don’t get a shot at either do-over, of course, but thinking about it can yield some good insights, maybe even some helpful discussions. Which years would you pick, and why?

I beat DOWN the Reader’s Digest word power quizzes. From “judicious” to “wainscoting,” I’m hard to beat.

This isn’t because I’ve tried to expand my vocabulary with flash cards—it’s just the natural result of almost 30 years of daily immersion in books and magazines. A lifelong love of reading has made me sesquipedalian.

My cousin’s wife, Amber, is a wonderful cook. After attending culinary school here and in Europe and interning at Martha Stewart’s TV show, she deglazes, she infuses, and she purees. From dicing vegetables to crafting the perfect pie crust, Amber easily and effortlessly navigates the kitchen. (She’s also fluent in French and beautiful, but I’m not allowed to be jealous because now she’s family.)

But Amber wasn’t born with all this ability, either. Hard work in her classes plus lots of practice at home and on the job have made Amber a talented chef.

The same principle is true for almost every person; from the Olympic athlete to the amateur oil painter, skill comes from years (and years and years) of practice.

So it makes sense the same principle would apply to our spiritual lives. We’re all born to connect with God. Unlike sports or musical talent, God created us all with the ability to have meaningful relationship with him. But an “unconscious competence” doesn’t just happen—we have to practice.

I considered this during a prayer night at my church last week, which is itself symptomatic of the issue: I am not good at prayer. My thoughts drift around from chores to shopping lists to future blog posts. I contribute little of value to the conversation and I receive even less because I have trouble slowing down and focusing my mind on the present moment and the God who allows it.

But I can practice. I can meditate on words or verses, I can write my prayers, I can be still every day even though it’s difficult. It may take years to see progress, but nothing of value that I’ve learned so far has come easily—why should my spiritual “skills”?

Sure, we all have areas of special giftedness, and prayer isn’t one of mine. But using that truth to excuse a lack of progress is like flunking math because I’m “an idea person.” I must work at prayer, at forgiveness, at joyfulness. I must practice being kind, serving with humility, and controlling what I say until these actions become truly second nature. Maybe in 30 more years I’ll have it down.

Lately I’ve had several discussions in which I found myself saying versions of what I don’t do:

Grant writing is a very specific niche and requires a lot of expertise to get dollars, so I would be more helpful in proofing your first or second draft.

The type of book you’re suggesting is equivalent in work and research to a master’s thesis and I can’t ghostwrite it for you; perhaps if you do the initial version I can edit it and make it better.

I can easily write SEO web copy but, trust me, it’s better for all of us if I don’t do the programming.

Also there was one conversation I thought but did not verbalize about my preference for getting a colonoscopy rather than working with a particular software company again.

The common theme—besides being asked to do things way above my experience level, which in its own way is kind of nice—is that after three years of freelancing (Latin for “do whatever pays the bills”) I have lost sight of my mission.

In broad terms, I help organizations doing good to do better—I work primarily with nonprofits because that’s where I have connections, and I typically provide organizational consulting, marketing ideas, copywriting, or project management to get it done.

And it’s successful because I usually can pay the bills. But that’s not good enough anymore; I need to think about other questions: What work is so fun I lose track of time? What ideas or causes mean the most to me? How do I want to spend 40-65 hours a week?

To kick things off I am rethinking what I’m best at. Here’s what I have so far:

• Finding great decorating ideas in magazines

• Leaving my house without an umbrella

• Buying used books

• Memorizing kind of lame Kelly Clarkson songs

• Updating my Facebook status

• Losing my keys

• Saving the environment by using a toaster oven to cook 75% of my food

• Feeling too lazy to flip the switch on the toaster and eating sherbet for dinner instead

• Walking in heels

• Planting begonias

This is why Stephen Covey makes so much money.

Jay (18:31:28) Hello Jennifer, Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support. Please give me one moment to review your information.

Jay (18:31:39) Okay. Sure.

Jay (18:31:40) Before anything else, can you please provide the complete account holder’s name, account number, as well as the account service address?

Jennifer (18:32:09) Name is Jennifer Taylor, address is xxxxxxxxxx

Jennifer (18:32:28) I think my account number is xxxxxxxx-x

Jennifer (18:32:44) At least that is what this service ticket says

Jay (18:34:03) What is your questions, Jennifer?

Jennifer (18:36:08) Okay: I previously lived at xxxxxxxxxx. I had basic cable at about $12/month and internet for $35.99/mo. Last week I called to cancel service there and begin service here. Today the techs came and installed my internet. I noticed that according to the work order my new monthly total will be $62.95. But I told the person on the phone when I set up the appointment that I currently do not own a TV and no longer need the TV service. So I think my bill should be closer to the $36 plus fees.

Jay (18:37:11 ) Thank you for that information.

Jay (18:37:29) So the services that were installed today were cable and internet, is that correct?

Jennifer (18:37:37) No, just internet.

Jay (18:38:25) Thank you for that information.

Jay (18:39:04) Jennifer, I can only see internet service to be installed and no installation for cable tv.

(Right, that’s what I said…..twice.)

Jennifer (18:39:36) Okay, the point is I just want to make sure when I get my first bill that I will only be billed for internet service. Can you confirm that and tell me the monthly estimated total?

Jay (18:42:17) Jennifer, I understand that your service was just installed today, is that correct?

Jennifer (18:42:21) yes

Jay (18:48:04) Thank you very much for patiently waiting. I would just like to set expectations that your services will be fully activated 48-72 hours after installation. As of now, your services are still not fully activated that is why no bill has been generated yet.

Jay (18:50:33) However, I would just like to assure you that only internet service is indicated here for installation.

Jennifer (18:50:44) Thank you for verifying that. But surely you can tell me now what the monthly rate is for internet service. That’s what I need to know.

(Two minutes pass, inexplicably.)

Jay (18:52:08) You are most welcome.

(crickets chirping. Two more minutes.)

Jennifer (18:54:09) So can you tell me what the monthly internet cost is?

Jay (18:54:59) One moment please.

(Six moments.)

Jennifer (19:00:19) I just need to know Comcast’s monthly rate for internet in my area. That’s it.

Jay (19:00:41) Thank you for patiently waiting.

analyst Jay has been temporarily disconnected.  Please wait while the analyst attempts to reconnect.

analyst Jay has entered room

Jay (19:02:57) The monthly rate in your area for internet is $19.99.

(Physically resist every urge to type, “See, that wasn’t so hard.”)

Jennifer (19:03:24) Great. Thanks.

Jay (19:05:31) I also sent a copy of the bill to your billing address for you to verify, Jennifer.

Jennifer (19:05:56) But I thought you said a bill couldn’t be generated yet.

Jay (19:07:23) Yes.

Jennifer (19:07:36) Okay. I think we’re done here.

Jay (19:09:13) Thank you for choosing Comcast and have a great day!

08/21/09 UPDATE: Received bill. For $62.95.

I’m usually fine with being single. I’d like to be married someday, but life is good and I’ve always been (too) independent, so I’m content on my own…..usually. This week was not one of those times.

Nope, didn’t see a cute couple holding hands. Didn’t watch a sappy movie. Didn’t even feel too stressed at the prospect of unpacking and setting up the new house by myself—actually, I enjoy doing this alone without a guy insisting, as one of my friends insists to his wife, that every wall be painted only white.

So, none of those things. Instead I had a glass jug fall on my head.

Thursday morning, while standing on a chair attempting to see if the vat I use for iced tea would fit into the top cabinet (answer: no), I lost my grip and it tipped forward, slamming into my right eye before hitting the ceramic tile and shattering.

Instantly I’m bent over at the waist, one hand pressed to my eye, bruises forming and blood dripping between my fingers, shards of glass everywhere, and no one here: no one to find a butterfly Band-aid so I won’t scar (my first concern, I admit); no one to deal with the mess; no one to advise if it’s worth a trip to the ER; no one to help me find out where the nearest hospital even is.

So I did what I always do: I took care of it myself. I stopped the bleeding and covered the cuts with bright green bandages featuring yellow cartoon giraffes (and made a mental note to buy some normal ones). I iced the bruises. I swept up the glass. I postponed my trip to the grocery so as not to frighten small children.

And I thought how nice it would be to have someone looking out for me now and then, even if it means too many white walls.

Good news: I can still fit in my high school prom dresses.

Bad news: I know this because they are all hanging in my closet and must be carted to Goodwill/schlepped to the new house/thrown away.

—————————

Good news: I scored a great deal on a good refrigerator with an automatic icemaker.

Bad news: It won’t be delivered until August 6.

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Good news: My lawn is receiving lots of free fertilizer.

Bad news: From the many neighborhood dogs who aren’t on leashes during the day.

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Good news: It is remarkably easy to balance my checkbook.

Bad news: This is a direct result of having no money in my checking account.

—————————

Good news: I’ve never been in such good shape.

Bad news: Because I’ve lifted everything I own at least four times.

—————————

Good news: I know how to fix incorrectly attached lawnmower handles, pry up cracked peel and stick tile, and clean paint goofs off baseboards.

Bad news: Figure it out.

There is always something to be thankful for, so I’m focusing on the good news. Hey, if I ever get invited to another prom, I’m SET.