Guest Blog: The Tao of My Bloody Valentine

Need a break from all wedding, all the time? My good friend Kara is taking over to guest post. Please enjoy her amazing story about New York, karma and love.

When the guy I lived with for two years got a little lost this spring and IM'd me from LA to say that I wasn't "someone he saw himself marrying," I was gutted. On my saddest days, I clung to something Thoreau once wrote: There is no remedy for love than to love more. When I felt the worst, I did something small and kind for someone else. Why couldn't love take the form of helping a woman struggling with a baby carriage on the subway stairs? Why couldn't I just bend down and help someone pick up the papers that they dropped?

However, I'm no saint. When he left, I kept the My Bloody Valentine tickets that he had bought for us. I deemed it a small trade for packing his things and singlehandedly organizing the detritus of what was once our home.

So, when I got to Roseland last night to find my ex had "refunded" the tickets, thus rendering the ones that I was holding useless, I was saddened that (1) he went out of his way to ruin one last thing for me, and (2) I might not get inside this long-awaited event. I'm a card-carrying music nerd, so this hit like a kidney punch. I went to the desk to confirm. It was not looking good as the dude at the computer kept punching keys fruitlessly.

And this is the part when you should believe that New York is really the most magical place on earth or, perhaps, in a little thing called karma. Doesn't a women that I trained in pilates a couple of times appear behind the glass? Honestly, I was so dumbfounded that I don't remember the entire exchange, but it ended with her ceremoniously presenting me with two VIP wristbands "courtesy of My Bloody Valentine" I literally teared up and hugged her.

My friend and I took our seats in utter amazement and with a renewed belief that universe works in the ways you least expect it. For the first time in seven years, my 4'10" self actually spied with my own little eyes a show at Roseland...from a seat! And not just a show. The jaw-dropping, molecule-rattling, sonic majesty of My Bloody Valentine.

Thank you, CZ. Thank you, My Bloody Valentine.

Perhaps, this is the stuff of movies or the stuff of email chain-letters that your mother might send you. Maybe, you think I wear my heart a little too on my sleeve. Today is my day to pay it forward. Just remember...you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, well you just might find, you get what you need.