Saturday, July 14, 2012


I know I owe you Part Numero Dos of the Exchange Student Story, but I would like to take a little detour to talk about Karma. We all know that it’s a bitch! You do wrong and sooner or later you will have to repay for your naughtiness.  Plain and simple. This is a fair universal law that applies to everyone equally and in my humble opinion, it is OK to feel a little bit of joy when it affects an a-hole whose a-holeness was applied directly to you. But what about when the victim of bad Karma is somebody who you deeply care about, somebody that has a special place in your heart.  What if such a person did something jerk like to you and Karma came right back to bite him/her in the ass. Should you feel joyous about that? HELL YEAH!
It was Saturday night a couple of weeks ago and we were having a jolly good time at a bar close to the beach, watching UFC fight 148, Silva vs. some other scary looking dude. We were all (P, me and a group of friends) taking advantage of the late night happy hour, two for one special, double fisting drinks and just partying it up. When the night was over, hubby and I assessed the going home situation and it was clear that I was in the better intoxication condition, which made me the obvious choice for a designated driver. We walked to HIS car, he handed me the keys, I put them in the ignition, pulled and disengaged the hand brake…..tried again, pulled and disengaged the hand emergency brake…..oh oh this thing is stuck…..let me push a little harder…..crap it is stuck all the way up now…..this thing is not going anywhere…..crap WE are stuck and not going anywhere.  
So it is evident I have done something stupid by pulling the hand brake wayyyy to much and making it stuck and I feel terrible about it. As a girl let me explain that I don’t feel comfortable dealing with mechanical stuff anyway. Driving a car that I am not used to is already kind of freaky to me and it always makes me feel retarded and uncomfortable. So breaking somebody else’s vehicle increases the feeling of retardation by a trillion percent and makes me feel really horrible about it. “P, I know how much you love your baby Volvo (is right up there with soccer, beer and everything Dutch) so I would never ever break in on purpose! I AM SOOOOOOOO SORRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY” Apologies didn’t matter; I had broken something pretty much considered holly by P right after he was done watching a carnage in the octagon while double fisting beers. I had no chance of escaping this one without a ….how shall I put it….STRONG vocal reprimand. And I did, I heard about it while we both pounded on the stupid handle for an hour, while we looked for solutions on our iPhones, while trying to catch a cab and all the way home. No doubt I will never pull so hard on the brake handle EVEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR AGAINN.

On Sunday morning, when we were friends and loved each other again, we went to pick up the car to see if we could release the stupid thing and for some crazy miracle P did it on the first try….whatever….something fishy was going on!
The next day I woke up early to go to work and on my way there I got a call from P. As I pick up my cell phone, he shyly utters the sweetest words that could have ever left his mouth: “Baby, can you turn around, pick me up and drop me off at work? I tried to release the emergency brake and now it is stuck and the car won’t move.” “HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!” I think to myself “REDEMPTION AT LAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ISN’T KARMA A BITCHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

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