Nothing on Purpose

Jeremy's Purpose-Driven Blog

Something to Strive For

Aug 10

Posted by Jer in Heart | No Comments

August 10, 2010, marks the 35th wedding anniversary of my parents, Michael and Michelle Wu. I used to wonder exactly how long my parents had been married. But I recently (several years ago) realized that they had me five years into their marriage, so all I need to do is add five years to my age to figure out what anniversary is coming up. Needless to say, I’m 30 this year. It’s hard for even myself to believe. I still see myself as a 21-year-old kid. I’m pretty sure I wish I was 21 again as well. That’s a story for another blog post though.

I love my parents very much and couldn’t have been more pleased with the way they raised me. Without too much braggadocio, I think I turned out pretty well, don’t you? April and I have been married just over two years and three months. I think our marriage goes so well because we both come from great parents. It goes without saying that I love April very much and I hope that one day, we will also celebrate our 35th anniversary. Who knows whether our 30-year-old son will be blogging about it, but I hope that Lord-willing, whatever child I have, he or she hopes to be and strives to be like me because I was as good an example to them as my parents were to me.

Happy anniversary, mom and dad.

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Please File a Complaint

Aug 4

Posted by Jer in Fire | No Comments

If there’s something I can’t stand, it’s people who complain about their difficulties in hopes of earning sympathy that otherwise wouldn’t have ever existed. Of course, the only reason I’m writing this entry is to complain about a recent encounter I had with someone of the sort. Believe you me; I’m not looking for sympathy.

I got in touch with said person because I wanted to share an opinion about something that I had just learned. To my surprise, the only reaction to my opinion was, “I already knew about what you’re talking about.”

That would be fine and dandy if it had anything to do with what I was trying to accomplish. Nonetheless, I assume because I didn’t give rise to that silly reply, this person proceeded to complain about how the only reason I might even try to talk to them about this topic was because they had been saddled with extra job responsibilities.

While I have no problem with people voicing their complaints about tough work loads, it gets old when it seems unfounded and is even worse when it is a continuous stream of complaining. Needless to say, all I replied with was, “let me know when you’re no longer bitter and I’ll talk to you then.”

Well, it appears that this complaint of mine isn’t quite as boisterous if I refuse to fully incriminate those in question by name, so I’ll stop here.

I feel better now.

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Tissue-piphany

Aug 2

Posted by Jer in Heart | 1 Comment

As a Dallas-born Chinese Asian-American, I was raised with some major Chinese values. That’s not to say I observe things like the Mid-Autumn Festival with great respect or that I even know how to properly use chopsticks. What I mean is that I’m pretty cheap. While I like to think of it as frugal, I have no qualms about the way I run a practical and necessity-based purchasing system.

Russell Peter’s wasn’t joking or at least he wasn’t wrong in his assessment when he layered on his thick Cantonese accent and did his bit about how Chinese people are total penny-pinchers.

I once drove 77 miles from South Pasadena to Victorville, Calif. so that I could save $15 on shipping and handling charges on a great deal I got on some Sony Memory Sticks. I later realized that the $15 I saved ended up being spent on gas; not to mention the fact that I lost about four hours of my life making that trip. Nevertheless, Circuit City wasn’t getting any of my hard-earned cash for S&H. Why? Because I’m Chinese. That’s just the way we roll.

Years spent eating off the fast-food value menu, to the detriment of my own health, also went a long way in preserving my Chinese desire to save money. There’s a special feeling about the ability to get full off of $2.14 at the Jack in the Box drive-thru. That special feeling actually is a quiet killer that packs on about a pound every week until you realize that you should probably not roll by the fast-food window at 2 a.m. What are you supposed to do when you’re in college though?

I think part of the whole reason Chinese people are so anti-spending is because so much of what is out there is either more than you need or just not useful. Why blow $40 for your family to eat at Denny’s when you can take them to McDonald’s for $15? Why purchase the name-brand lawnmower when you can get a pair of scissors and cut the lawn yourself?

Now, I know this is probably nothing to brag about, but this is who I am, or at least who I was. I can attest to the fact that I have changed (matured perhaps) over the years. The healthy eating thing has been well documented through plenty of photography. However, how did I finally realize that I was over the whole “cut corners and save money” bit? I don’t even know, honestly.

These days, thanks to the examples around me, I’ve broken free from the ridiculous Chinese stigma that surrounded me for so many years. I used to purposely not eat at sporting events or movie theaters because I felt as though it was such a “bad deal” to pay $4 for popcorn. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a terrible deal and those places are making a killing off of the sales of such items.

Here’s the caveat though; that’s the whole point. You’re supposed to get killed on things like buying food at amusement parks and sporting events. I realized eventually that, if I want to enjoy a Polish sausage on this particular bench at Disneyland, I’ll need to buy the Polish sausage at Disneyland; not smuggle it in through my mother’s purse and then bust it out half squashed and cold.

I’m far more willing to spend money on a lavish meal or pay to experience something because of the mere fact that the moment to execute such a payment exists only in that moment. I had a hard time deciding whether or not to go to New York with a couple of friends earlier this year, but after some thought, the reason I hit the “Buy Now” button on the JetBlue website was because I came to the conclusion that this particular set of circumstances will never again present themselves. My friends were about to get married. Who knows, I might have kids by that time next year. I found out I was going to move from Southern California to Northern California and did so in a matter of 19 days. Things change; quick.

So what does any of this have to do with tissue? A couple of weeks ago, April and I happened to arrive at Bay Street Emeryville with our leftover Pottery Barn gift card in the car. We received the gift card for our wedding more than two years ago even though we didn’t have a Pottery Barn registry or anything. It was a $50 card and if you know anything about Pottery Barn, you know it’s pretty easy to spend at least $50 there. However, we never wanted to go for the over-priced expensive stuff they had on the shelves and eventually ended up purchasing a cheese serving set that we’ve only used once.

For two years, we’ve been walking around with a $19 balance remaining on our card. There have been countless instances upon which we’ve gone to Bay Street without the card and without the desire to purchase anything, so it’s been a sort of a running joke. This time was different though.

After walking around the store in circles for about 20 minutes, we finally decided to get a rattan tissue box. It’s part of the Tava line of bath accessories in case you’re interested in purchasing something for yourself. I was happy we finally chose something and that we were about to be rid of that $19 balance, but I can’t say I was completely thrilled about the prospect of putting that rattan box into our bathroom. I mean, it’s a box that fits over your tissue box. Yes, it was brown and matched the color motif in our apartment, but seriously? Tissue comes in a box already. Why do you need to put a box inside a box? It made no sense to me at the time.

When we got home, I put the box over the box and let it sit there. It was pleasant to look at, but still, the whole need for it to be a utilitarian item ate at my inner Chinese sensibilities. Please cut me some slack; I just paid for a fancy box.

A couple of days ago, however, as I pulled a couple sheets of tissue from the box, I came to my senses. I realized that the box actually helps hold down the tissue box inside. Now, I know this isn’t some sort of gigantic world-wide epidemic, but I have had struggles with getting the single tissue paper that I’ve wanted in the past. All of a sudden, it made sense. The weight of this ridiculous rattan box was acting as an anchor on my tissue box. It not only looked nice, it was serving a useful purpose.

Now, while this is perhaps a silly isolated moment of realization, but I’m glad I was able to experience it through something as simple as a tissue box. I’ll never stop being Chinese, or at least I don’t think I will ever stop being Chinese, but I can stop carrying around the same cheap and sometimes unreasonable fiscal values that often get pegged to Chinese people.

Thanks, Pottery Barn, for showing me just how wonderful a rattan box can really be, and how to appreciate the simple things in life, no matter how much you ended up charging me for them.

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Land Lover

Jul 31

Posted by Jer in Earth | No Comments

If somehow I wasn’t sure enough before, I think I’m positive now; I absolutely prefer being on land to being in the water. I’m not sure that would have been true several years ago. I grew up on swimming lessons at Calgary’s VRRI (Vocational Rehabilitation and Research Institute) swimming pool. My mom used to take me to lessons ritualistically. Oddly enough, neither of my parents were particularly into swimming. I guess they either wanted me to become a great swimmer one day, or they were just worried that I would drown without these lessons. Nonetheless, I advanced quickly and was at a level ready to receive life-guard certification by the time I was in the fourth grade.

In high school, I passed the mandatory California swimming test with flying colors and even showed off my endurance by swimming a mile at a Boy Scout camp one year. I used to go to the high school swimming pool as a regular summer activity with my little brother and my friend James.

For some reason, over the years, my desire to go to the pool waned. Looking back, it might have because of my weight and my growing insecurities with my body. Perhaps it was the fact that swimming with contact lenses sucks. Or maybe it was just because I spent so much more time doing land-based activities like being in the marching band.

I loved being on boats as a child. Fast-forward to my final year in grad school and my responsibilities as the USC women’s crew sports information director. I had an amazing time heading out onto the water with the head coach to watch our girls row, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of just being worried about drowning. Where did this fear come from? I also couldn’t help but try my best not to touch any of the water.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that I’ve become much more of a mysophobe. I’ve always been a neat freak, but these days, I want to wash my hands so much more often than I used to as a kid. Maybe it’s just because I’m more aware.

Let’s skip ahead to the point at hand. I went jet-skiing for the first time in my life today. While the experience was amazing in and of itself, while I was out on the water, I came to the conclusion that I felt much better about my life with both feet on solid ground. I can still swim just fine; and I had a life-jacket on. For some reason, the immense feeling of freedom on the water also brought on an incredible feeling of fear. I kept on thinking I was about to flip the WaveRunner over or fall into the water. I’m not even sure what was so scary about that, but I couldn’t shake it. I got up to 22MPH just to see if I could handle it, but the thrill of going so fast was quickly replaced by this sinking fear that I could flip over and die. Who knows what is wrong with me, but hey, I have no problems with admitting that I love being on land. I’m a certified land lover; tried and true.

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High-Low: All’s Fair

Jun 28

Posted by Jer in High-Low | No Comments

Without a question, both my high and low moments of the week involved food in some manner. Is it any wonder, though? I’ll start with the low moment of my week. Without being particularly incriminatory, it occurred at lunch on Wednesday, so I was at work. This spring, I took on the added task of managing a new talent in our media relations office. The young lady we brought on board was supposed to become the on-camera face of CalBears.com, and that, she did. However, because of our lack of resources, she also became the writer, director, camera operator and editor for all of the video features she took credit for. Nonetheless, I think she did a marvelous job with what we provided her and her attitude and willingness to work with others has been beyond a true blessing. So, two Thursday’s ago, I took her out to lunch as a ‘thank you’ for her services. We’ve also managed to become good friends through the process of working together, so I thought it was appropriate to do so even though we had another lunch meeting planned with our department head for later in the week.

So, last Wednesday, myself, this young lady, and my superior all made our way out into Berkeley for lunch. It was her opportunity to talk about how the whole experience of working on our staff went this year and our opportunity to express our thanks to her. When we arrived at the restaurant, somehow, she ended up having to call for a table and got us seated. Then, I went to the restroom, and upon my return, found that my superior was sitting across from me; next to her.

In short, the lunch meeting turned into an affair between myself and my superior with him having to turn to the side just to talk to her. I was upset by the fact that she had actually prepared a couple of things to share and talk about but that she wasn’t actually even given a chance. To compound the whole lost meeting, when the bill arrived, my superior didn’t make a move to pay for the lunch. A couple of awkward minutes later, he ended up picking up the bill only to ask our video intern whether or not she was planning on using her credit card.

Talk about a deflating moment. I felt terrible that we put her through that after all that she had done for us. What’s worse is that the bill this time was $30 for three people. The bill when I took her out to lunch myself was $35 for two people. Granted, we had sushi the first time, and had burgers the second time, I was still incredulous that steps weren’t taken to show a little gratitude to someone who has done so much for our department. I know some might ask why I didn’t pay for the second meal, but it was just such an awkward moment. It was like being out with your parents and then dad asks you to split the bill. If it weren’t for the fact that this was our last meeting with this intern, it might have made sense. I had considered paying for the meal again, but thought better of that because I felt as though I would be grandstanding in front of my superior in that case. Nevertheless, it was a truly sour moment in my week.

My high moment of the week came at the Alameda County Fair. It involved food as well, of course, because you typically eat way too much at the fair. Even though we left the fair with a $60 dent in our wallet, and hadn’t really eaten anything of particular quality, we had a great time because it’s just one of things you do once a year. We had some great lemonade, and too much fried food. As a must, we capped the night off with a traditional funnel cake. It was the perfect way to end the evening.

April and I love attending concerts together. With our musical backgrounds, it’s no wonder why. Over the years, and especially since we’ve moved to the Bay Area, our concert outings are fewer and further between. However, that fact makes the concerts we do attend that much sweeter. As part of our admission to the fair ($10), we were able to line up and hear Tower of Power do their thing at the bandstand. They put on a great show and actually left us wanting more. It was a nice jazz/funk preview for our upcoming trip to New Orleans though. That’s another thing we can’t wait to do; go to New Orleans for the week of July 16-23.

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Blast From The Fast

May 27

Posted by Jer in Heart | No Comments

I only just started using an At-A-Glance desk calendar this year because I thought it was about time I got more publicly and officially organized. I’m not sure if it makes the time pass more swiftly but I just ripped the May sheet off and folded it up for storage (I’m a pack rat). I can’t believe we’ve already gone through five months so quickly.

I know, I know. You’re probably wondering why I ripped May off so fast, but it’s because I might not be in the office tomorrow and with the long weekend and guests arriving, I’ll likely do any NCAA tennis work from home anyway.

The months really flew by after we hit March. That first weekend, we went to Southern California to celebrate our dating anniversary and attend a wedding. Then, in early April, we took off in the middle of the week to celebrate April’s birthday only to return to Los Angeles for her dad’s surprise party that following weekend. Upon returning to the Bay Area, we had a week in town before we flew out to New York for a six-day rendez-vous with James and Vivian.

Come back to the East Bay is supposed to make things slow down but when we got back, we prepared together to run the Bay to Breakers 12K on May 16. The next weekend, we went to Napa to celebrate my birthday with guests from out of town. This week, we had a house guest yesterday and then have three more who have arrived today for the Memorial Day weekend.

When they leave, April and I head our separate ways for a bachelor party in Montreal and a bachelorette party in Las Vegas. When we get back, my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law stay for two nights to attend April’s god-sister’s graduation from UCSF. Then we slow down with three weekends at home before heading down to Los Angeles for our friends’ wedding on the Fourth of July weekend.

Oh, I’m not done. When we get back from Los Angeles, we take off for New Orleans for a week from July 16-23. Then; then things will slow down a little bit, I think. For now, we’re flying through 2010. The next thing you know, it’ll be Christmas again. I’m looking forward to everything about that but the bills that will arrive in January 2011.

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Covert Operation

May 27

Posted by Jer in Heart | No Comments

Yesterday morning, I took a different route to work because we had a house guest who needed to be dropped off in the middle of downtown Oakland. Normally, I head to West Oakland BART station and drop April off before doubling back to take the 980 into Berkeley. This time, I dropped April off at the 12th Street station in downtown and went further east. Why is that important? It meant (to me, at least) that it would make no difference in my efficiency whether I chose to make my way to the freeway or continue driving on the streets of Oakland.

However, a couple of considerations threw my decision into the “that was easy” category pretty quickly. I had a couple of checks that I needed to deposit and there was a Chase branch on my way if I took surface streets. What’s more, Bakesale Betty was on that same route (if I wanted it to be). How could I pass up the chance to go to Bakesale Betty? It was a Wednesday. The store isn’t open on Monday’s and Tuesday’s and is never open later than 4 p.m. aside from on Friday’s. The Ginger-Molasses cookies themselves are worth the trip; not to mention the perfectly baked scones. Still, Alison Barakat’s most famous offering is her chicken sandwich. I didn’t get one, nor did I order a chicken salad or save a couple of delectable chicken pot pie’s for dinner. I went with two scones and a half-dozen cookies.

I knew I wasn’t going to eat all of what I ordered but I had my intentions to save the scones for tea with April and to have one cookie myself. As for the rest of the cookies, I had plans to share them with my co-workers. When I got in, I stopped by the volleyball office and gave two to Jenn. Upon arriving at my desk, I opened up the box to have a bite of a cookie and low and behold, there were still six cookies. Bakesale Betty sometimes does this. The workers will hit you with far more than you ordered as a gesture of kindness.

Well, one cookie is enough for me. Some of my co-workers are anti-interesting food so I didn’t bother trying. My new office mate refused my offer for reasons unbeknownst to me, but I walked down the hall to our new neighbors from the business office and offered one to our human resources manager (for which she was terribly grateful) and then went and saw our HR coordinator. Her office-mate wasn’t there, so I offered her two anyway so that she could give him one when he returned. My line is always “hey, if they don’t want it, you can have two for yourself” with an unbelievably jolly smile on my face.

When I returned from my duties elsewhere on campus, my business-office buddies remarked at how good the cookies were. I told them they were welcome and asked if they had ever been to Bakesale Betty. My coordinator friend said she had heard of it but never made the trip there. Her boss, our HR manager, decides to ask me some key questions. He, of course, tells me that he goes there every once in a while and that it’s wonderful. Thanks. First, he asks me if I went there today. Why, yes. Then he asks, did you spend your entire lunch to go all the way out there? Naturally, I responded with my short story about taking a house guest in that direction. Not another thought.

This morning, as I was walking up to my office, thinking about how the business office often leaves exactly at 4:45 p.m. and stays no later than 5 p.m., I realized that the questions might have been a cover for checking to make sure that I wasn’t taking prolonged lunches. What? I have got to be more careful who I share my cookies with.

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Slightly Off

May 26

Posted by Jer in Earth | No Comments

I mentioned in my last entry that April and I had recently run the 99th Annual ING Bay to Breakers 12K. Earlier this year, I completed my first 5K run in San Leandro. It was called the Bay Breeze and was actually quite easy compared to our practice outings. For Saint Patrick’s Day, we did a 5K down the shoreline of Alameda, and then in late April, we participated in our first trail run. Luckily, running up and down the hills and knolls of Wildcat Mountain only lasted the distance of a 5K. Initially, we didn’t think we would be able to run the Bay to Breakers race because of a work conflict I had, but when things cleared up, we were able to sign up and legitimately do the run with timing chips on our feet and everything.

So, in all of the aforementioned races, April has consistently crossed the finish line somewhere in the neighborhood of five to seven minutes earlier than I had. Because the Bay to Breakers run was a little less formal, we were together the entire time. I wanted to walk some of the last stretch but we had actually run most of it so she was alongside me, encouraging me to finish in stride. It worked because I was in step with her all the way.

Not for anything more than a little moral victory, I figured we would have the exact same race time. Now, if not for anything more than a little ego deflation, we didn’t. Somehow, she finished one second earlier than I did. I can’t win.


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High-Low: The Birth

May 25

Posted by Jer in Heart, High-Low | No Comments

I never want to break vocal consistency in my writing but I figure if any, now would be the time to do so because I want to introduce a new segment to my blog that will hopefully enhance and increase my writing efforts. Not for lack of a better name, this new weekly entry will be called High-Low. I’m basically poaching the concept from an activity that April and I used to go through as a part of the Kollao Ministry at Neighborhood Church. Each week, our leader, Tyler Scott, would start off with what he called our weekly high-low. We would sit at our tables and share with the people in our group about two moments in our week as candidly as possible. It’s really as plain and simple as it sounds. Your high moment is one in which you felt happy or satisfied; and your low moment is one in which you felt unhappy or dissatisfied.

During these sharing times, it was easy for people to just say that they had a whole lot of high moments throughout the week and that they really didn’t experience any lows. While it was nice to hear others talk about how great their lives were, there was always a much stronger connection or sense of empathy whenever someone would share a solid low. It became obvious to me quite early on that the point of the exercise leaned more on the side of accountability and vulnerability than it did on the side of just plain celebration. Since Kollao was a couples ministry, often, people would speak about their highs and lows in terms as they pertained to their spouse or significant other. But we were encouraged to share as openly about any sort of high and low emotion we felt throughout the week, so I hope I’ll be able to share as candidly as my public-relations oriented mind will allow me to. One more thing; I hope to do this every Monday morning (not Tuesday). I’m off to a good start so far as you can see. So, here we go.

I turned 30 last week (on Wednesday) and while it seems a daunting moment in life, I haven’t let the numbers affect me. Because I celebrated my birthday, there were no doubt plenty of highs throughout the week. It started out on Sunday (May 16) as April and I ran in our second ING Bay to Breakers 12K. We “ran” the race last year as well but didn’t quite make it through the closure gates on time because we spent too much time walking at the beginning. It really is a spectacle and something we were glad we walked through, but this time, we were determined to make it to the end. We ran at least 40% of the route and our time was probably somewhere in the neighborhood of two-and-a-half hours.

On Wednesday evening, the day of my actual date of birth, April treated me to a fancy dinner at Hubert Keller’s Burger Bar in the Union Square area. After dinner, we went to the Curran Theater to see the touring production of In The Heights. On Friday afternoon, I was surprised at work by Jon, Mike and Henry, who made the trip to celebrate with me from Southern California. We went into the city and grabbed a slice at Golden Boy Pizza before meeting Marty, Joyce and Alyssa (guests that I knew were coming) for dinner at Giordano Bros. in North Beach. The night wouldn’t have been complete without ice cream at Tucker’s in Alameda. So we went.

On Saturday morning, we all met at the parking lot of Cuvee in Napa to hop into a limousine for our tour of wine country. We started out at Hendry Wines where the vineyard owner, George, gave us a serious educational tour of his facility. Not to mention, we enjoyed a tasting of 11 wines before we were done. After our first stop, we headed over to St. Helena for lunch at V. Sattui Winery where Rob and Gladys were waiting to surprise me with cake and the dogs, Lana, B.J. and Cowboy Bob. After lunch, it was time for some bubbly, so we made our way to Mumm Napa and had a seating at the tasting room. We finished off our day at the Ceja Vineyards tasting room before dinner at Cuvee, where Howard and Elaine showed up to complete my list of surprise visitors.

I’ll start with my low since I’d rather not end my blog entry on a low note. My high and low moments this week were each indelibly linked to my birthday. I woke up on Wednesday morning excited about the day’s planned activities, but as I was driving April to the BART station, I received a voice mail from the facilities manager at work. He was angry that I had not prepared to move my belongings out of my office because he had some $100+/hour movers waiting for me. Without going into detail, he was unjustified not only for his attitude but for his call to me. There was some major mis-communication surrounding my office move. I don’t deal well with people wrongfully accusing me of something. What’s worse is that I wasn’t told anything in advance so I couldn’t even have known that I might need to be prepared for anything of any sort. I can’t pinpoint whether my emotional low came from being annoyed or just merely from the fact that it was all happening on my birthday. I don’t expect everything to be perfect just because I woke up and the day happened to be my birthday, but I suppose it doesn’t take much to set me (or anyone) off in the wrong direction on a day like that.

On to a more happy topic, however.

With so many surprises and people coming out to celebrate my birthday with me, it was pretty difficult to single out a moment that I could call my high for the week. However, it wasn’t a particular event that I would call my high. When Jon, Henry and Mike showed up at Haas Pavilion to surprise me, I don’t know what my face looked like, but Jon made sure I knew that I am “so easy to surprise”. After thinking about it for some time, I realized that April has surprised me for my birthday five times out of the ten I’ve celebrated with her. I actually think of myself as the surpriser but she is an expert at the craft beyond words. That also made me realize that my choice to turn her surprise efforts on her in order to shock her with my engagement proposal was the perfect way to do it. So, my high was something that I think about from time to time, but again, this week, it was my appreciation for the fact that my wife loves me enough to continually try to surprise me.

I promise that not all of my High-Low entries will flirt with the 1,200-word count mark, but with this one being my first, and on such an important week, I let myself go a little.

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Right Round

Apr 5

Posted by Jer in Earth | No Comments

Does anyone out there enjoy round numbers as obsessively as I enjoy round numbers? The volume on my television needs to be five, or ten, or 15, 20, 25; maybe 30. But it cannot be 26, or 7, or 13. Why? The same goes for my credit card. This has to be some sort of diagnosable mental disorder.

Whenever I pay for the bill at restaurants, if it reads $21.21, I will tip $3.79 so that it my final total is $25. It almost doesn’t even matter to me what percentage I am giving so as long as it is some sort of even number. I will always leave 15 percent or above for good service, but there have been times when that percentage hits the 20 or 25 percent make because I’m so randomly careless about rounding up my final total.

The beauty of credit cards is that it allows you to leave whatever amount you would prefer to leave, whenever you would like to do so. I presume that if I were to pay with cash, I would end up leaving whatever coins are returned to me from initially paying the bill and then perhaps a couple of one-dollar bills that make up a fair gratuity. I don’t understand why I have a problem with leaving $4 or $7 for a tip. That actually makes the math a little bit easier.

This also happens to me at the gas station. Again, my credit card allows for some amazing flexibility, but unless I am filling my tank all the way up (usually at Costco), then I will do my best to only purchase $5 or $10. Earlier today, I was at a Shell station in West Oakland and the pumps were incredibly fast. I squeezed and was able to release right at $9.86. I slowly pulled the trigger a couple of times and arrived at $9.99 without too much trouble. My next incredibly light-handed squeeze still put my total at $10.01. I was distraught. I figured I needed the gas anyway so I allowed myself a mulligan and went for $15. This time, I hit it right on the mark and drove away proud of my accomplishment.

How ridiculous is that? I was willing to pay the premium per-gallon cost for Shell gas because I was dead set on hitting a nice round number for my credit card. It’s not as if I can ask a retailer like Banana Republic to charge me a couple of extra cents so that my final receipt reads $100. I am resigned to the fact that my credit card statement will read something like $845.62, yet I try so hard to make sure what I can control, I control.

Today’s experience reminded me of an old American Express spot starring Jerry Seinfeld. In it, he laughs at a gas-station patron who endures a “classic over-squeeze” moment but then has the misfortune of doing the same. But then, what does he do? He whips out the American Express card to pay for his gas and all is well in the world. Why can’t I have that kind of confidence? He’s my hero.

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