Meet And Greet? More Like Meet And Weap.

Confession: I dread the meet and greet time at church. Pathetic, I know. But seriously, what's the deal with acknowledging the body of Christ around us at church? What, like we go to church to be encouraged by the community of believers around us or something? (That was a joke.) However, I'm pretty sure that hell is a place where these supposedly uplifting "meet and greet" situations are constantly on repeat, and as soon as you think it's over, you're told to stand up and greet those around you. Again. And again. And again. Also on repeat in hell: "I am a friend of God." Oh the irony. (Because…well…apparently you weren’t. Weren’t a friend of God, that is.)

There are a few different handshakes that occasionally occur during these types of situations. For example, we've all experienced the "Jilted Lover" handshake. This is, of course, when you reach out to shake someone's hand, but they shake the hand of the person next to you first...and your hand is left dangling outstretched in the air. In that moment, you have a choice to make -- simply put you hand down and acknowledge the awkwardness of what transpired, or fake nonchalance and pretend that you always leave outstretched appendages suspended in mid-air. 

There is also the lesser known "Over Eager" handshake attempt. This is when, in your panic to be shaking someone's hand, you enthusiastically extend your hand/arm to a person seated five rows in front of you...only to come to the halting (and for some reason surprising?) realization that your arm is not, in fact, ten feet long and able to traverse such a great distance. Unfortunately in this case, once your arm is outstretched and you've made eye contact with the other individual, there is really no way to redeem the situation. Your best bet is to just laugh it off. Or shake your head while looking bewilderedly at your arm and mutter something like, "Weird...it was so much longer yesterday..."

But the most awkward church handshake experience of my life (by far) happened today. In fact, I'm pretty sure I created a whole new category in the awkward handshake department. Somehow, my friend and I ended up shaking someone's hand at the same time. Like, both of our hands in one of their hands. I honestly don't know how it happened. All I know is that something felt strange, and I looked down in horror to see that I had just inserted my hand into an already happening handshake. Time began to slow as I gazed down at our three hands entwined together and all I could think was, "Noooo...what--how...?! I don't even understand what is happening right now..." The poor man's reaction was simply, "Well this is new." Yeah...for you and me both, my friend...for you and me both.

Hyperbole

Last week I went to the movie theater to see a live broadcasting of the radio program This American Life, which was being performed in New York. Per usual (I've always wanted to say that) the show was great. It was filled with comical moments, weird moments, and moments that were quite moving. But I won't talk about the things that actually impacted me in a meaningful way. Because then I would get serious. And I've tried my best to keep this blog free from anything containing real emotions on my part and requiring serious contemplation/reflection on yours. You're welcome.

For about the past...oh I don't know...8 months or so, I've been listening to This American Life podcasts somewhat obsessively. And when I say obsessively, I mean that I have listened to 70 percent of the weekly episodes from the past 17 years. However, I usually listen to them as I go to sleep at night--so more often than not, I only actually hear 70 percent of the episode before I fall asleep. Consequently, I've really only listened to 70 percent of 70 percent of the episodes.

But back to the movie theater. I somehow ended up nestled awkwardly between two strangers for the entire course of the show. (How are some people not aware of the always leave at least one empty chair in between your body and mine rule?) But despite this initial breech of social norms, we chuckled amicably at the inside jokes made by the show's host, Ira Glass. And I felt...I felt part of something. Part of something snooty and exclusive. And it felt good. It felt good to shake my head (internally...for the most part) as I walked past all the other people who were standing in line to see The Avengers or whatever other silly action movie was playing. Like, Oh...such children. Such a young and bumptious generation they are...but one day they will learn. One day they too will be cultured and join the ranks of us informed and reflective intellectuals who listen to "Fresh Air" and "All Things Considered" in our spare time and of our own volition.

(I don't really know what the point of this post was.)

Another Post About Relationships! Kidding

Note: This post has absolutely no redeeming quality. So if you're looking for redemption, I suggest you go speak with Jesus.

People were not on my good side as I was driving to work this morning. The problem is, when people are on my bad side, it doesn't really mean anything other than that if you start tailgating me, I will drive five below the speed limit just to make you mad. (I know, super mature.) But tailgation (yes, tailgation) was not the issue this morning. Merging, however, was the issue.

In the beginning, I was trying to do the right thing by graciously allowing a person driving a huge SUV, whose lane was ending and needed to merge, (and who did not have a turn signal on) into my lane. But can I just say--those darn people who are so oblivious, so above stress or worry when sitting in their enormous vehicles with their nonchalant attitude, who just expect people to let them merge at the very last second like they're entitled to it...it all just aggravates me. I know. I have issues.

So this is me in my car this morning:

"Oh hey Jesus...bla bla bla bla..."--insert thought-- okay big ugly SUV without a turn signal on, I will let you into my lane even though you waited until the last second to even attempt to merge and my natural tendency is to want to make you suffer in your predicament and teach you a lesson. But go ahead, enter into my lane and live-- end thought-- (SUV begins to merge into my lane)

"So Jesus, as I was saying...Wait, seriously, you big pretentious SUV?! No wave of appreciation for me letting you into my lane when you waited until the very last moment to merge?! Screw you!"

Yes. Mid prayer, I yelled "screw you" out loud. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I was immediately like, Wow. Seriously Lauren? Did you really just say that? You need to give people just a tad bit more grace. And calm the heck down. 


What if Jesus was like me? "Wait, seriously Lauren? You waited until the very last second (again) to ask for my help when you knew all along you were eventually going to need it? Well, this time I'm going to make you suffer in your situation because that will teach you a lesson. I'm God...I deserve more respect than this! Furthermore, the last time I did help you, you barely gave me a nod of appreciation. Screw you, Lauren!" I am so glad Jesus is not like me.

In other car related news...the water pump in my car is broken. Consequently, I am now carrying around a gallon of water in my trunk. Yes. I am that person. The pathetic person you see on the side of the road pouring bottles of water into their radiator. The person that a small part of your heart feels bad for as you drive past--but if you're honest, you're mostly just glad isn't you.

Now, if only I could set up a system where the water that streams into my car when it rains could instead be funneled right into my radiator...

Someday I will have a car that is normal. Perhaps even a car that has carpet...?! I know, I'm getting a little crazy here. A girl can dream.