The one where Jill figures it all out

OMG. I had just returned from my first ever yoga class and was going through my Google Reader items when up popped this genius little invention--a write-on-glass tumbler. I immediately said to myself, I want one of those. I have this sad, 7-11 travel coffee tumbler that I fill up at home and use to try to get some fraction of my daily requirement of water. When I have people over I use a real glass (because I'm classy that way), but when I'm just keeping my own company I just use the 7-11 cup. But this little number is genius. It's a water glass that I can write to-do lists on! Oh how could you possibly make drinking water more fun? Only perhaps if some how the cup magically turned the water into rainbows and played music could this be even a tiny bit better, but not much. The glass is $16 and shipping to Canada is $18.95. Also, apparently there is only one left. Perhaps for now I will just have to affix my ol' 7-11 cup with a Post-It.

I mentioned yoga. I signed up for the gym at work and went to my first lunch hour class today. While I've been to hot yoga before (oh Lord, have I been), I have never been to a regular yoga class. I also have never been to the gym at work. I was pleased with both introductions.

I liked the breathing in yoga. I really did feel able to focus and center my energies, if only for a few, fleeting moments. I also liked when the instructor reminded us to smile. Even though I felt awkward at times, I was doing something good for myself and I really did feel like smiling. Actually, today, for whatever reason, I feel like I can't stop smiling. Something just feels right in the world. I think something good is going to happen. Or something bad, but at least I'll be able to smile right through it.

On Saturday my dad asked me if he could use Truck to pick up a dryer for my mom. When he came over I was bored and tired of hanging around my house, so I asked if I could come along for the ride. I was kind of grumpy with him earlier (my poor father, putting up with me and my grumblies all the time) so he was probably a bit shocked at my request, but of course he didn't mind.

We had to drive all the way out to Transcona (the far east side of the city). The sun was shining, making it a lovely day for a drive. I was happy to just listen to the radio and get lost in my thoughts.

When we got to the warehouse there was another guy picking stuff up at the dock beside us. He drove a Jeep Cherokee or something. I didn't really pay much attention until I saw Dad talking to him. Then I noticed he was one of those pretty types, as in fashionable, I suppose. He had his Ken-doll perfect hair and designer glasses and was wearing chinos probably from The Gap--no!--Banana Republic. I noticed this because he was not the type of man that my dad would make idle chit chat with. My dad doesn't usually chit chat unless he's in a very very good mood. I actually assumed that the man had some how offended my father and some sparring words were going to be coming shortly. I avoided eye contact and fiddled with the radio.

But Dad opened the door of Truck and informed me that the pretty man was picking up two pieces but did not have room for them both in his pretty SUV. Dad had learned that the pretty man and his pretty family lived in River Heights, which was on the way home for us. Dad had offered to take the pretty man's second piece, a night stand, along with us and drop it off for him. The pretty man had accepted Dad's offer.

On the way home Dad and I joked about not dropping off the nightstand.

Dad told me the man had said to him, "well, it's only one night stand, you'd need the second one to have a set. Ha ha!"

"I need another night stand!" I said to Dad. "I don't care if it doesn't match, it would totally go with my eclectic mix of furniture."

"Yeah! That's right!" Dad said.

With mock cynicism I said, "Yup Dad, that's the way the world goes these days. Just look out for yourself, y'know. You can't win by being a nice guy anymore."

We laughed and joked some more as we pulled up to the pretty man's pretty, yellow house on pretty Oak Street. Dad unloaded the piece, the man thanked him, and we went on our way.

As Dad drove away he said, "Y'know I offered to do it just to be a nice guy, and I know I shouldn't really expect anything out of it, but it really would have been a nice gesture for him to offer me five bucks even, just for the trouble it saved him."

"You're right, Dad," I nodded. And then, wanting to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, I added, "Maybe he was just still in shock that someone offered to do something nice. Just wait though. Karma will pay you back."

When we got back to my mom's and dad's I went inside and visited with my mom while Dad scratched his head wondering how he was going to get that freakin heavy dryer out of the truck and into the basement.

I told mom about the good deed Dad did. Then she told me about how after the neighbour helped Dad move their new couch into the house last week, Dad bought him a case of beer. The neighbour is a young, single guy who drives a truck like mine (okay yes, when he moved in years ago I had a secret crush. I gave him tickets to a hockey game once because I had a slew of them to give away as a part of a Big Arches promotion. He just seemed to think I was nice. Damn that elusive nice/cute combination I struggle with emulating!). Mom said young neighbour guy was surprised at Dad's gesture and graciously said it wasn't necessary. It wasn't necessary, but I like to think that Dad showed the guy what it means to live in a real neighbourhood.

"So I was raking the front yard this afternoon and I found a 20 dollar bill," Mom said. My eyes grew wide.

"Does Dad know?"

"No," she said. "I was raking while he was out."

I slapped the back of the couch feeling like I had just shook hands and posed for a picture with the universe itself. "That's his Karma pay back!"

I know, I know. Sometimes things work out that way, sometimes they don't. There may not be a rhyme or reason to any of it. I just think it's a good idea to celebrate when things do come together nicely. It makes for a nice story, and nice stories make people smile, and smiles make people happier, and happier people buy more cases of beer for neighbours. And such is the circle of life. Why complicate it?