Wednesday, April 9, 2008

The Karma Audit

A while back, I might have made some flip remarks about karma. That, perhaps, might have been like making fun of the IRS in front of one of its agents. During tax season.

Karma appears to be doing its best to make sure that I appreciate how goddamn lucky I am by regularly balancing things out, without actually having anything genuinely tragic or life-alteringly awful happen to me. To wit:

This past summer:

Plus: wonderful, wonderful trip to the east coast (where we got to catch up with family, as well as some much loved old friends who just yesterday had twins, a boy and a girl), and visits in Seattle with family. The Incredible Eating Nephew may drive me nuts sometimes (although- heh- not nearly as nuts as I drive him), but getting to have him come out and visit- and getting to go to Fairburn Farm with him, my parents and the kids- is definitely a stroke of good karma.
Minus: increasing vocals (at least she said I was skinny) and behavior (the lawn spitting that Emily Post had no advice for! The tossing of dog poop!) from my crazy neighbor, resulting in me finally schlepping out for a restraining order against her, which she promptly violated by assaulting me. I got to enjoy the pleasure of court appearances as she hissed "liar! Liar! She's lying!" during my testimony, which cemented my feeling that she is, indeed, a human version of Gollum, which is pitiable and sad but also creepy as hell. Both kids got pneumonia. My boy had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic used to treat the pneumonia. Also, on a smaller scale, the geniuses at Expedia neglected to mention (until after we had already been to and returned home from the airport) that the flight we were booked on to head east no longer existed, and I got to spend approximately 8 hours on the phone with them instead of on a flight to the east coast.

This fall:

Plus: A winter trip to Chicago. Outdoor skating, family togetherness, snow and a general appreciation for my family and the place I grew up. Hockey, both for myself and for the kids. And... a much treasured visit from the Shoe Fairy.
Minus: One fine morning, on the way to coach the Pink Piranhas, my ferocious team of kindergarten soccer players, a motorcycle crashed behind me, never actually touching my car, and it seemed, having alot more to do with its driver spacing out on a sunny day than, well, with me. Still, given that he was not encased in 2,000 lbs of metal, as I was, I stopped to see if the guy was okay; he later made outlandish (and, my insurance guy said, hilariously improbable as well as physically impossible) claims and attempted to sue me. Blech. The whole thing made me feel ill, and disillusioned with people. Also, I scalded myself. And concussed myself. I'm not disillusioned by that; I'm just gifted that way.

This winter:

Plus: Hawaii!
Minus: Stumpy, Gimp-a-licious, The Big Gimpah, also known as my much loved husband, ruptured his Achilles tendon (playing indoor soccer that his wife might have suggested was un-damn-wise), resulting in some seriously unpleasant pain and misery for him, and for me: working like an abused scullery maid. Curly's repeated, agonizing visits to the ER.

This spring

Plus: Rome, with one of my sisters and her family, my parents, Curly, my boy and Stumpy.
Minus: I just got t-boned because a bus driver waved another driver out into traffic and right into... me. I am okay (although... ow.), but ibuprofen is my friend. Also, how ironic is it that while in Rome, I kept worrying about the traffic and the kids and... I get home and whammo, get in a car crash.

Dear Karma: I am very, very sorry for any glib remarks. And thoughts. Clearly, you are giving me a great deal of luck, good fortune and happiness and really, I am very glad and grateful. I will continue to attend drone-y PTA meetings, help kids learn to read and, you know, try to be nice, even if, uh, I am not very talented at nice. My gifts lie more in being acid-tongued and clumsy, but you already knew that. Could I ask, maybe, though, for just a little less in the way of Demonstrations Of How It Could Be Worse? I do appreciate, though, the whole not spending 12 or more weeks on antibiotics over the winter this past winter. Really.


cook eat FRET said...

very good writing there. i am such a weirdo fan.

Meg said...

Thanks, Claudia. I made your banana bread today, finally. It was fab- the perfect comfort food for a crappy day. I'll blog about it later, but probably without a photo, since it looks like it was attacked by wolverines (but really, only just me).

Cote de Texas said...

Hi = thanks for the sweet comment - I love that boat chandelier! AND - I love this entry about your neighbor - I just had a run in today with mine. In 15 years we have NEVER had an issue with HER but boy she always has some bs lame issue with us, always. Glad to see I'm not the only one! Liar!!! too funny.

Anonymous said...

wow..many extremes here. Lucky, not all years are like this, but this one is "special", huh?
That neighbor is the pits!

homebody at heart said...

Yes, you can have good and bad neighbors and bad neighbors can be a pain no doubt. My neighbor across the street cracked my plexiglass skylight playing baseball with the neigborhood kids, then denied he ever did it. I said, why don't you turn your game around and hit the ball in the direction of your house? Oh nooo, said he looking at his large picture window. Might break his window. DUH!!!

Then, my other neighbor who is a prefectly sweet thing got a new, loser boyfriend who must be jobless because he plays his own special electronic effect music mix over and over and over again (I know this because I hear the same sound effect, repeatedly) so loud I can hear it in my bedroom when I come home for lunch and at the end of the day (why I know he has no job). Yep. But, I have good neighbors, too.

Sorry about the bad karma. For every action, there is a reaction in the universe. Perhaps a little meditation? Peacekeeping smooze?

Love the photo. Is it from the Baths of Caracalla?

Meg said...

Joni- a really, truly bad neighbor is weirdly communal, as it often leads to some rather enjoyable commiserating with other people with wretched neighbors. Still, nobody would choose the sort of mental illness that afflicts my crazy neighbor, and in that respect, her circumstances are very sad. What a headache for you, though- 15 years of a pain-in-the-butt? And new (or just more) antics are rarely fun. Gah. However, be glad that she doesn't have a fondness for smearing excrement on your house, mailbox or cars (I hope).

Maryann- I'm hoping to find a little more even keeled path for the next... while. I've been insanely fortunate, but also have developed a skunk stripe of grey along my temple from the less-fun bits.

Homebody- ohnohedidn't. Grrr. I'm lucky with the rest of my neighbors, too, which is nice, isn't it? It is, indeed, the Baths of Caracalla. Nice ID.