Dear Self, {and a love letter to Karma}

Ahem.

Eating multiple fistfuls of the fishes {causetheirsodelicious}
and then chasing said cheese-y fishes down with an
Almond Joy candy bar {okay, or TWO}
may or may not be an ideal follow up to one
freaking fantastic "Hot Yoga" session a' la Sweaty Chix Fitness... 

I'm just sayin'.

Xo,
You.

Dear Self,

" I'm just sayin' "
is sooooo 2010.
Get with it, loser.

Xo,
You.

Dear Self,

I still say Rad and also regularly say
"what's up wit dat?" and "Yo!",
and you're whining about "Just sayin'?"

Mayhaps YOU need to pick your battles.

Just sayin'.

Xo,
You.

Ps. Since when do we care so much about being "with it," anyway?
Let's not. Mmmkay?

On another note...

Dear Karma,

Thank you.

Thank you for being the tried and true beeotch that everyone
{or maybe it's just me} wishes and prays for you to be.

I have a friend who got fired from his job under very
unfortunate, dishonest, dramatic, evil, mean, and horrible circumstances.
I won't go into details {cause you like, already totally know, duh.}.

Let's just say that upon learning of this very sad situation,
I found myself 8 months pregnant
{translation: hormonal as the day is long}
and sobbing hysterically to my lawyer father
as I tried to tell him about the awful
{and clearly unethical} things that were being done to my friend.

And do you remember what my zen/buddah/lawyer of father said?

He said something like:

"I think he will be much sorrier if he tries to get down in the gutter and fight with people like this.
It sounds to me like he should steer clear of them and just try to move on."

And then I sobbed harder because I simply COULD NOT birf my baby into a world where people like...like... like THEM could prance around ruining lives and practically get away with MURDER and Bahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

{Remember the hormones I mentioned earlier?}

Yeah.

And my dad, clearly confused and prolly a little bit concerned about his daughter's mental health at this point, said: {in his calm, loving, Buddah-like way}

"Honey, people like this will usually sink themselves if left to their own devices for long enough. And your friend will be glad he steered clear of them when that day comes."

And you know, my dad is kind of amazing.
Kind of my favorite.
And something deep down in my belly told me that he was right.

It also might have been Tennyson protesting the
spicy burrito I'd made out with a few hours earlier,
but I'm pretty sure it was my dad's inherent rightness.
Yes, that.

So I sent a prayer up to you, Karma.

The prayer of a hysterical,
psychotically pregnant 30 year old
who NEEDED to believe that the world was a good and decent place
to birf an innocent little person up into.

And boy did you deliver.

The vultures have now turned on one another and are currently pecking each other alive.
It is wondrous, and beautiful, and everything I had hoped for when I sent a spiteful, mean-spirited wish your way. The fact that I even made such a wish may sound petty, and well, just downright mean, but these people are not fit to live in normal society. Seriously.

With any luck, they'll rat themselves out so severely that all of the fraudulent paperwork they've produced over the years will surface in its entirety and land those suckers in jail.

Oh karma, it's just so great.

If you had a physical address, there would SO be a dozen carrot cake cupcakes heading your way.

But for now,
I hope that my simple "thanks." will do.

You are rad, Karma!

Just plain rad.

Xo,
Lola