Karma My Ass

By Karma Campbell (* please note that some names have been changed to protect myself against lawsuits.)


I haven’t always believed in God, or my government, or any of those other things that many people hold dear in their lives. But I have always maintained an unshakeable belief in Karma and the concept that what goes around, comes around. Until today.

Allow me to back up, will you?

Yesterday, I was minding my own beezwax, trying on a pair of ruby red shoes in Target, when I noticed a non-descript female looking at a pair of brown kicks nearby. I thought nothing of it until fifteen minutes later when I found myself standing three people behind her in the check-out line. I quickly scanned the people in front of me and their groceries on the conveyer-belt-like apparatus and then shifted my focus to more important matters: the National Enquirer, Okay! and Star headlines. It took all of about sixty seconds to get caught up on the cellulite epidemic afflicting Hollywood and the melt-downs of Lilo and Britt before my attention once again returned to the shoppers in front of me. I watched as the non-descript girl handed the cashier money and waited for her change. There was something oddly familiar about her squinty eyes, stringy hair, and bulbous nose. It was like I knew her from somewhere. I studied her features and mannerisms, trying to figure out who she was and where I knew her from, when it hit me: this girl was no random Target shopper; she was my former roommate and arch-nemesis, Rudy! (insert dramatic music here.)

To understand why I dislike Rudy, you must know a little back history: When I was a nineteen year old college student with barely two nickels to rub together, I made the mistake of sharing an apartment with Rudy, her sister, Pepper, and another friend, Lacey. I don’t care to relive the dramatic details that resulted in the end of my friendship with Rudy and Pepper, but I will say that Lacey and I found ourselves caught in the crosshairs of some family drama that was fit for Jerry Springer. And I’m not talking your typical college drama either; I’m talking crazy drama that, when I think about it ten years later, it still incites disbelief and anger all over again.

My brief encounter with Rudy in Target yesterday made me wonder about what courses her and Pepper’s lives had taken in the ten years since I had last seen them. My curiosity got the best of me, and, as pathetic as it may sound, I spent a good hour and a half (okay, three hours) this afternoon searching for information about them on the internet. Before I embarked on my search, however, I wondered about the type of dirt I would find on them: Did either have a rap sheet? A meth addiction? What about a rendezvous in the big house? After typing their names into Google, however, I quickly found that they had experienced none of the above (or at least from what I could see on the internet). In fact, from what I read, they both sounded like goddamn successes. Rudy, I learned, worked as a shoe designer for an international athletic shoe company. And Pepper? She and her husband opened a wine bar two years ago that has received rave reviews. The discovery of their successes was the nail in my Karma-believing coffin.

I immediately called Lacey and shared the news and vented about the unjustness of it all. “How could two people of that caliber find such success in life?” I asked her. It didn’t make sense. Then Lacey said what I needed to hear but wasn't quite ready to accept: “Look, I know who those two girls are at the core of their beings and there aren’t enough shoes they can design or glasses of wine they can pour that will ever make me envious of their lives.”

While I'd like to end on a happy note and say that I adopted Lacey's mature viewpoint, I can't. The truth is, I still can't find it in myself to feel happy or even indifferent about their successes. I don't wish them ill, but I don't wish them well either. And, dear readers, before you go all Oprah on my ass and start psychoanalyzing why I can’t forgive or feel happy for people who’ve done me wrong in the past, stop. Right now. Just stop. I know it’s not healthy or productive to feel the way I do, and I wish I could be more rational and insightful like Lacey and Oprah, but I can’t. At least not right now. Hopefully someday I will see the light and my faith in Karma will be restored.


Before I end this post, I want to give a shout out to a few people:

1. to my cousins Matt and Tu on the birth of little Kashia! She's adorable!
2. to my brother Pat, who celebrated a birthday yesterday!
3. to Cori and Philip on a beautiful and fun wedding yesterday!

Bye!