it's just too good to be true...

...and yet it's true.

You know when you've got a situation that just seems dreadful - where you're so uncomfortable, or frightened, or doomed - and then a ray of light pierces the clouds and you come out on top?

Well, let me give you a couple examples.

As I've already mentioned not once but twice in my short blogging career, I do not like being stuck behind slow-moving people on a city sidewalk. In one such incident a couple years back, I could not get around two teenage girls who were meandering along, holding up the droves of busy New York pedestrians (i.e., me) who were actually trying to get somewhere. I finally managed to squeak past, brushing up against one of them as I did so. She got huffy, and did that snarky gasp thing that teenage girls do when they're implying that they've been grievously wronged. I thought, "Just keep moving, Siobhan; don't engage."

But then: Junior Miss said, in classic teenage-girl bitchy voice, "Um, hello? There's a word? It's 'Excuse me'?"

I couldn't resist. I turned around and said, "That's two words."

That's what I'm talking about. This could have been an irritating situation that put me in a bad mood for the entire day, and instead, here I am years later, still chortling over it.

The impetus for this little reminiscence was an email I got yesterday, from a man I briefly dated a while back. We had a terrible fight - well, actually, we had an ugly scene where he told me all my faults and issues and shortcomings, and I left. That was five months ago, no contact since then, no need to ever speak again, let's all just move on.

I get an email from him yesterday morning, out of the clear blue sky, that was basically a continuation of his rant. As Liz Lemon would say, "What the what?" I was so pissed and upset, and getting ready to stew over it all day, and then I re-read it, and out shone that ray of light I mentioned above.

One of the various shortcomings he assigned to me, living in Crazy Land as he does, is that I apparently boast and brag about being smart (as if!!). Part of his email yesterday was to let me know that I'm not as smart as I think I am.

And then the last line of his email (and I kid you not):

"I am smarter then you."

{brief pause to let my sweet, sweet triumph sink in}

Okay, so I know I can't reply to the email, especially when he's clearly crazier than I suspected and I don't want to push him over the edge, but oh how I want to send just one little line:

"It's 'smarter than you,' Genius Boy."

Instead, I will savor my karmic victory by sharing it with you.