Category Archives: Uncategorized

Karma’s half-hearted retribution.

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137/365

Shit. Today, just shit.

Let me say, I’ve always believed in karma, but mostly it is very cyclical and I really like circles. But, as a general rule, I believe that what comes around goes around.

But I’ve never really experienced it. The fact is, I’m a pretty loyal person, and I don’t even like hurting the people who’ve done me wrong, let alone some innocent friend or bystander. So I haven’t really had to be a t the receiving end of some bad karma. And with good karma, well, I don’t really go out of my way to do really good things. Mostly I keep to myself and stay off of karma’s radar.

Karma’s probably been eyeing me, though, because I’ve done some things in my life that are questionable, toeing the line, excusable…but not really downright wrong. So I think it’s been watching me, waiting for me to make a wrong move, to jump the line completely before running back to the other side. And I’ll be damned if the bitch didn’t catch me.

I don’t think this particular brand of karmic revenge is the path it would’ve taken if it had more time to think about it. I mean, I think karma, I think “an eye for an eye” type stuff.

You don’t attack a girl’s car, dude. Seriously, that’s just rude.

So last month or something like that, my car inexplicably started reeking like rotten eggs. The smell would fill up a parking lot and it totally permeate all my clothes. It was disgusting. It was the alternator, for the second time that year. It was overcharging my battery and vaporizing the battery acid. So I replaced the alternator and it was fine.

But NOW. NOW that karma’s like “FINALLY I CAN GET HER, YEEEHEEHEEE!” the new, shiny, less than one month old alternator has started undercharging my battery.

So when I came back out of my apartment after 20 minutes inside eating my lunch, the car won’t start. Not even a half-hearted “vrum-vrum,” just a click, and then nothing.

I don’t know anyone in my apartment complex, and no one’s around. So I called my friend Jaime, who I have affectionately called “#2″ since moving here a couple months ago. (This is really only relevant in spoken form, since we spell it differently.) I bribed her to come over, offering her the coveted title of “Jaime #1″ if she would come on down and give me a jump.

So she did.

Jaime and I tend to run into roadbumps when we have a task ahead of us.

First up was finding the battery for her car. It was not under the hood. That picture up there? That’s her trunk, and that’s where her battery is. Which was totally stupid.

So there was the positioning of cars, which involved me pushing my car all by myself, and taking up the entire parking lot in front of my apartment. Then there was the actual jumping of the battery, which failed the first six times. There was me, jumping out of my skin with pure elation when one last, seemingly futile attempt resulted in a sputtering and, finally, it actually starting.

And then it stopped. Because I was also out of gas.

And then there was the random fucking hailstorm that made me jump out of my skin in pure terror. HAILSTORM. Stuck in a stupid hailstorm while trying to jump my car. Seriously?

So then there was the going to the gas station and spilling gas all over myself, as evidenced here:

(uhh, not all of that is gas. It’s been raining today. More on that in a minute.)

There was figuring out how to use said gas can back at the apartment. There was attempt number 2 at jumping, which worked by the third try.

And then there was the gas station again, to fill up my tank. And the attempt to start my car after filling up, which led to attempt number 3 to jump-start it. Which didn’t work the first ten times, but then I jumped out of my skin with pure elation for the second time when it started on that last seemingly futile attempt to start my car.

At this point I said good-bye to number 1, promising her infinite amounts of coffee at some point in the future. I went to Sears, thinking I just had to replace my battery.

But NO. Alternator. For the third time in a year.

I’m going to have to go to Vancouver tomorrow to have my mechanic do it, but in the meantime the awesome Sears guys recharged it completely for free. Well not completely for free. More like at the expense of four hours.

Four hours where I wandered around Target, Kohl’s, and Sears. That was four hours where I had no choice but to think about the stupid action that put me in this crappy place to begin with.

And that was torture. Which is probably what karma was going for in the first place.

And I think that’s why everyone’s always calling her a bitch.

This is a terrible post. I’m sorry, but it’s been a day.

FYI

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I was taking my laptop upstairs the other day when it fell from myhands and attacked my foot. Little did it know, however, that by playing that move, rather than breaking my toes, it contributed to the death of its own brain.

That’s right. The hard drive died in its attempt to break my toes. Ha! Foiled again!

….this also means that it’ll be a good 4-8 days until I post any pictures. Just so you know.

Spring day?

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36/365

These little guys are always the first to start popping up in the spring, but they seem really early this year. I mean, when there are dead leaves from fall hanging out with it, he’s early to the party.

I’m not even sick of winter yet. Weird.

Why I love Boy Meets World, plus the 365 photo project

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Christmas is over! This is a year where it truly flew by…the days leading up to it, unlike last year when everything seem slowed to a halt because we were all snowed in, were a flurry of working, hanging out with friends, and last minute shopping. (As it turns out, that’s how the days leading up to Christmas actually go for most people. Who knew?)

My brother and sister-in-law got me Boy Meets World – The Complete Series on DVD. Saaweeeet!

I’ve been watching it a lot. In lieu of reading, actually, and knitting, and even of playing with my new camera. This is such a fantastic show, no joke.

Watching teenagers on TV now is depressing. Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill, the OC…granted, they’re completely different genres, but it’s all sex, intense drama, texting, and all that. I don’t know, I hate to sound like an old person, but it just seems simpler.

What I really love is how it uses education and knowledge to teach the lessons for Cory, Shawn, Topanga, and Eric. Life is always compared to a novel; Romeo and Juliet to show the power and intensity of love, The Odyssey to survive the first day of high school, The Grapes of Wrath to illustrate different kinds of injustice. Education and learning are among the most important aspects of the show…where do you find that anymore? Seriously? Plus, it’s effing hilarious, and who doesn’t root for Cory and Topanga from day one?

I’m in bliss with Cory and Shawn and the gang.

I’m embarking on a project this coming year, the 365 photo project. With my awesome new camera (the Panasonic Lumix fz35), it makes the challenge a lot easier. I’ll be taking a photo every day for a year, and then posting it on here.

I’m a big fan of 2009 being over. Big big fan. For some reason, it seems that I have better luck in even-numbered years than odd-numbered years, and since no year has been as bad as as this past odd-numbered year, so obviously no year could be better than this upcoming even-numbered year. Thrilling logic.

Anyway, just a quick, poorly written update, but here’s to 2010!

Letting down my fifth grade teacher again.

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In an effort to save my car from drowning at the hand of the ridiculous rain shower we just experienced, I turned the house upside down looking for my damn rain boots so that I could dig the leaves out of the storm drain. I never found my pretty striped galoshes, but I did find my fifth grade report card.

I loved the fifth grade. Mr. Anderson was one of my favorite teachers, in part because he was a rogue who would rather conduct experiments with paper cups and fire than have us write reports about presidents like all the other fifth grade classes had to do. In my list of books several months ago, I mentioned Mr. Anderson and the lessons he and Walk Two Moons had taught me.

It’s both interesting and depressing to read comments teachers had for you when you yourself couldn’t see beyond summer and wall ball. They have insight into who you could be, where you will go, and what your gifts are in comparison to the hundreds of other students they’ve taught.

Of course, it didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already suspect:

(Second Quarter) “Jami enjoyed another quarter of solid economic growth. She’s a highly capable student. I feel she has a true gift in writing as well as the arts, though she does a commendable job in all areas. I’m proud of her!”

Right. It starts off well, as in any relationship. I’m out to impress, to makes sure he likes me. He’s pleased. And then I can be myself:

(Third quarter) “This report card was something of a gift. Because I ‘see’ how much she’s learned through class activities, it’s difficult for me to grade her lower than a B-. If I had based her grades on the assignments she either only partially completed or didn’t turn in, she would be getting a C-. She has what it takes to be an honors student, but it won’t happen until she sharpens up her study habits. I hope she will do that 4th quarter.”

And there it is. I get comfortable and everything else goes out the window. I’m talented, but I’m lazy. But he told me. He pointed it out. communicated that I wasn’t excelling. And I improved:

(Fourth quarter) “Jami is well prepared for middle school, and, depending on her attitude, she should excel there. She’s much better at math (and everything else for that matter) than she thinks she is. If she becomes more consistent in her study habits, she will be an honor student. I hope to hear her success stories.”

You get peeks at my self conscious self-deprecation in that one, so that’s nice.

The only question that keeps running through my head is what would Mr. Anderson have to say if he knew that I finished school with a degree in English, specializing in creative writing, and I have trouble even keeping a blog consistent? That I spend my days peddling payday loans to drug addicts and irresponsible idiots?

I think he’d be writing me the same report card. It’s funny how even when we think we’re changing, we stay the same.