No Stars From Me -- Goodreads Freeloader?

I signed up for Goodreads in 2011 and did nothing with it.  Around 2013, I figured out that there was a Goodreads app for iPhone and became a regular user.

My favorite Goodreads feature is the ability to keep track of the books I want to read.  For a couple years, I tried typing titles into a note on my phone.  Over and over, I'd lose the note (or a child would delete it) and poof would go months of book ideas.  Now, if I hear about a book from a friend, read about a good one in a waiting room People, or see something intriguing in a #bookstagram pic, I can just open up Goodreads and log the title into my app as "To Read."

My least favorite aspect of Goodreads is how difficult it is to "unfriend."  Every once in a while, someone (whom I don't know personally) will friend me.  At first, I would say yes in order to be nice, only to find that this individual seemingly did nothing all day except for comment/like other people's reviews and repeatedly post about books in genres I avoid (fantasy, for example).  Another gem of a Goodreads stranger/friend would review a book and then re-post that same review 10-12 times.  All that was clogging up my feed, but it's NOT EASY to unfollow someone, especially through the app.  (Disclaimer:  If I know you personally or our reading tastes are similar, I'm not looking to shake you.) 

The feature of Goodreads that stresses me out is the rating system.  I don't like giving the books a star rating at the end.  Too much bullshit to work through.  Am I being too kind?  Too harsh?  Am I prejudice against certain genres/types of books?  Am I rating on my experience reading that particular book at that specific moment in my life?  Or, am I supposed to evaluate each book within the context of all the books I've ever read?  I know, I know, don't overthink it, you're not on the Pulitzer selection committee, Megan.

Can I admit that I also get irritated by other people's ratings?  People who say perfectly pleasant things about a book that they finished reading and then give it two stars?!?!  Two stars?!  I guess for me, if I liked a book enough to finish it, then that book is better than two stars?  If it's only a two-star book for you, why are you spending time reading it?!  Some people are consistently stingy in their book ratings, and I admit to thinking, "Well, okay then, book snob."  But then, I'm actually the book snob because what I'm really thinking is:  "Well, okay then, you wanna-be book snob.  Who are you to give out these stingy ratings when I read over a hundred books last year and am much more generous in my ratings?"  But maybe I'm an easy grader.  And, of course, every reader, regardless of number of books read, has the right to rate a book as he/she sees fit so who am I to get all pissy about other people's ratings?!  And who gives a shit about these ratings anyway?!  See, how I can spiral with this Goodreads star system?

I gave myself a gift at the start of 2017:  I'm writing up little blurbs about the books I finish, but I'm not giving them a star rating.  It feels liberating.  But am I freeloading?  Since I often check the average ratings of books when deciding what to read.  Whether or not I'm a freeloader, not rating books has enhanced my Goodreads experience.  How about you?

Author's Note:  You know a post is boring when you start it on 3/8 and don't circle back and force yourself to finish it until 3/14.  Please don't rate this post.

  

Present Over Perfect -- Sign me up!

I am a huge fan of Shauna Niequist.  I've read all her books and hope, since we are both Chicagoland moms, to meet her one day.  Her most recent, Present Over Perfect:  Leaving Behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living, really resonated with me and inspired the following thoughts (that I really needed to think at the start of a new school year).

I am a capable person, a helpful person, a mostly friendly and usually kind person.  I am a person you can count on.  Because I am capable, helpful, mostly friendly, usually kind, and able to be counted upon, I say yes to a variety of volunteer opportunities and mostly succeed in fulfilling my commitments.  I am also creative, organized, attentive to details, and able to troubleshoot and anticipate.  Volunteering allows me to contribute to my community, be a part of the life and happenings of my kids' school and our parish, and to get to know, plus work and laugh with people, mostly women, whom I admire and enjoy.

Great.  It's all great.

At this life moment, I'm a SAHM, a choice about which I'm not particularly tortured.  Me being at home works best for our family right now.  I'm not Christina Applegate in Bad Moms, not on a power trip, not directing frustrated or thwarted career aspirations into Cub Scouts or the Newcomers Committee.  But, I do like the feeling of satisfaction that comes with doing a volunteer project well, being appreciated for it, and being recognized as capable, count-on-able, helpful, creative.  I'm a good girl/teacher's pet at heart and will always love gold stars, extra credit, and atta girls.

Great.  It's all great, or at least good.

I am not great at delegating, especially any job that might be stressful or misery-inducing.  I'm not good at asking for help.  I would love to both be and be perceived as laid back, but I am wired for anxiety and worry.  That's improved with age and wisdom, but still, anxixety is one of my factory settings.  So, when I say yes to things and see them through, the yes is sometimes but not always accompanied by a lot of stress and some real low points.  On multiple occasions, my sons have been near tears before Cub Scout pack meetings.  They feel my stress, know I've been racing around all day getting stuff ready (because I've told them so as I'm losing it while loading the Odyssey) and feel guilty like it's their fault for wanting to be scouts.  My husband has fielded a variety of desperate phone calls from me, needing to be talked off a ledge, when I am frustrated by some technological or logistical obstacle (The cord to the projector won't fit my MacBook!  I need to print these signs and our imaging drum is empty and you can't just buy one at OfficeMax and blah, blah, blah, screech, screech, eeks, eeks, eeks).  Just recently, I spent the morning working on a Power Point (that no one specifically requested and that I insisted on creating) for a volunteer job on the school's Newcomers Committee.  I ignored my kids as I tried to finish up and then rushed to the park for a playdate with incoming first graders, including new school families.  I wanted to make sure all the new families felt welcome, met others, etc.  My daughter mentioned to me several times that she was hot and thirsty and I distractedly directed her to the drinking fountain.  Ninety minutes later, I finally took a good look at her and realized she was grey under her suntan and clammy/sweaty.  Once we exited the park, she revealed that she hadn't eaten breakfast, had eaten nothing all morning except a Twizzler a classmate gave her at the park.  Fast forward fifteen minutes and she is vomiting pieces of Twizzler into a Chick-Fil-A bag and unable to keep anything down until evening.  But, hey, the Power Point was a success and the other first graders enjoyed the playdate!

It's all good until it's not.

It's not good to be busy and stressed in service to others when it turns you into the least best version of yourself--worried, distracted, laser-focused on your to-do list--around the people who matter most to you.  This is commonsense, of course.  MOM 101.  There is plenty to rationally understand about balance and perspective, but, unfortunately, I gain my wisdom in fits and starts and through experience.  Present Over Perfect reviews these lessons in an accessible but powerful way.

Here's the other thing Present Over Perfect does.  This book speaks to those sad fears behind all the doing, hustling, pleasing, and juggling.  Those fears that maybe people only tolerate you because you are capable and helpful and organized and attentive to details.  Megan's not super fun, but she can Evite, Volunteer Spot, and email like a boss.  Not the first person I'd like to have a drink with but she's got Pioneer Day (or the coach gift or the Halloween Party or the Blue & Gold Dinner) under control.  You can see Megan's underwear line through her Costco yoga pants, but she gets stuff done and she'll say yes if you ask her to help.  Don't get me wrong -- these aren't my day-to-day, constant fears.  I have good friends who see me and love me and appreciate me.  But these are the fears and insecurities there under the surface.  The lurking fears look different for every woman--whether you're the dedicated physician or teacher, the reliable caregiver for an ailing parent, or the [insert your story/role here]--but there's that little voice whispering in your ear that without all the hustle and bustle, that without all that you do and take care of, that without all of that busy, you are not enough.  So you better keep going and keep doing in case other people have figured out just how not enough you are.

If you're rolling your eyes, fine, I get it.  I should be so lucky to have this struggle.  But it's mine.  I wish you well in yours, which may very well be nobler or grittier.  If you're nodding your head to any of the above though, read Present Over Perfect where Shauna Niequist says it all way better than I have.  Here are some highlights for me...

"I have left behind some ways of living that I once believed were necessary and right that I now know were toxic and damaging--among them pushing, proving, over-working, ignoring my body and spirit, trusting my ability to hustle more than God's ability to heal" (27).

"I couldn't imagine a world of unconditional love or grace, where people simply enter into rooms because the door is open to everyone.  The world that made sense to me was a world of earning and proving, and I was gutting it out just like everyone around me, frantically trying to prove my worth" (41).

"When you devote yourself to being known as the most responsible person anyone knows, more and more people call on you to be that highly responsible person.  That's how it works.  So the armload of things I was carrying became higher and higher, heavier and heavier, more and more precarious" (41)

"But you can' t have yes without no.  Another way to say it:  if you're not careful with your yeses, you start to say no to some very important things without even realizing it.  In my rampant yes-yes-yes-ing, I said no, without intending to, to rest, to peace, to groundedness, to listening, to deep and slow connection, built over years instead of moments" (49). 

What I'm taking away from Present Over Perfect is not that I need to opt out, nor that I need to further shame myself for all the times when I've failed to be present in my attempt to be "perfect."  My takeaway is that I need to slow down, to mix in some no with my yes, and to remind myself that as a child of God I am always already enough.

.

Wait a second ...

I won't bother explaining why I was at the Arby's drive-thru at 9:10 pm (neither for dinner, nor for a late night snack), but I had to take this pic of their Holiday Hours signage.  It's blurry because I felt goofy and creepy taking it.

I am very much against stores being open for bargain shopping on Thanksgiving Day.  That just sucks.  On the years when I spend Thanksgiving in Ohio, however, I always go out on Black Friday with my mom, sisters, my niece (new addition), and usually a family friend as well.  We avoid all big box stores and arrive at the mall around 6:30am.  There are good deals to be had at many mall stores, and I did well this year at Disney Store, Anthropologie, Macy's, and Nordstrom.  Morning at the mall is crowded but not painfully so.  We go about our business, share some laughs, make some purchases, and take turns carting cumbersome bundles to the car.  I am very kind to those working on Black Friday.  Not to brag, but I usually know and understand the intricacies of the various coupons and discounts, which makes for smooth transactions.  I've seen some overcrowded fitting room return racks and groups of women in matching holiday sweatshirts but never any pushing, elbowing, or trampling.  We eat an early lunch around 11:30 and then head home as things start heating up.  The crowds build, the parking lot gets packed, and many of the best discounts expire.  End scene for us.

In short, I love Black Friday the way that my posse and I do Black Friday.  I look forward to the child-free time with my mom and sisters.  I really enjoy the special lunch. 

But here's where Arby's and I differ:  Black Friday is not a holiday.  It's just not.