Elvis is Very Much Alive

His sword glows blue in the presence of lawyers

This was the first day in the history of ever that I went for a run with Elvis and he didn’t pull my arm off.  The leash was slack for almost the entire 30 minutes, including the warm-up and cool-down walky bit.  

Unclear whether it was because (a) we ran last night and it was 93 and he’s still tired, (b) it was 5:30 am and dark and quiet, (c) we didn’t have the other dog or anyone else with us, or (d) MAGIC.

whatever it was, I’ll take it




i’m all for boys wearing makeup mostly because if more of them got into it there’d be a bigger market and it wouldn’t cost $25 for an eyeshadow primer anymore

i can’t wait to go into the makeup aisle to get the latest man-color of guyshadow that comes in containers shaped like bullets and footballs

"Bruh I just went to sephora and got the sickest shade of eyeshadow"
"Sick dude what’s it called"
"Monster truck gas fumes"

(via rennerandcats)

Because I’m sure all of you are just AGOG to hear about my new vacuum….

It’s narrower than the old one (which is good), is taller than the old one (which is bad, because it won’t fit under the beds), seems to have better suction, has this neat swivel joint so that it will basically run an obstacle course, is back heavy (so it wants to fall over), has a shorter cord, is all sorts of detachable and modular, and HOLY CRAP if you have a bagless, you can SEE how much ick is in your carpet.  AGH. 

TL;DR:  I’m still reserving judgment, but so far the good seems to outweigh the bad.



talk street magic to me

drawing power from the metro lines

illusionists busking illegally, shimmering lights disintegrating as they run

plant mages tending tiny rooftop and windowbox gardens

elementary kids learning basic sigils on the playground

wixen taking a while to key into the magic in new cities when they move

alchemists dealing on the side to support their experiments

middleschoolers making friendship talismans and amulets for everyone

numerologists who’ll do your math homework for $5 or divine your fortune for $10

kids mass-texting luck and speed spells when their parties get broken up by the cops

Hell yeah, let’s talk about magic.

Like elementary kids learning silly (or inappropriate) charms from each other on the bus, the same way we learned our first swear words. Clapping games across the bus aisle, but with spells instead of rhymes.

Worrying that your friend is getting into dark magic, but not knowing how to talk to them about it. Intervention programs for kids abusing hexes and runes, because magic has given them control over something for once in their life, and they’re starting to make some dangerous choices.

Psychic teachers knowing when you’re cheating. Knowing when you’re having trouble with homework. Or at home. Knowing when you need tutoring or an AP course because you’re just not being challenged or a different teaching method because you can’t process what you’re learning in class no matter how hard you try, and the teacher tells you it’s okay, they know. They know.

Magic graffiti. Graffiti in wild places, and graffiti that vanishes when certain people roll by like the police. Or graffiti that only appears when the police walk by to insult them. Murals. Swirling, living murals on the sides of buildings. Murals that—if you listen closely—can be heard, not just seen.

In the evenings, kids hiding out in someone’s backyard or an alley passing around a joint and casting minor illusions to watch while high.

Chalk artists making works that are so realistic, they come to life off of the sidewalk.

One man bands in the park, with instruments floating around playing themselves.

Punk concerts in empty lots with amped out music and lights, but noise-cancelling spells and illusion hide them in plain sight from anyone outside of the lot.

Mediums predicting people in need, and making sure to be there at just the right moment to lend them a helping hand. “You seem upset, do you need to talk?” “Oh, you’re a dollar short? No, don’t put the milk back; I’ll cover you.” “I think your hair looks perfect today.” “You really ought to try taking your resume to this store. Trust me.”

Necromancers in forensics speaking with the dead to solve homicides and cold cases. Living lie detectors as beat cops and detectives and DEA agents.

Strangely cheap five star food diners that bake actual love into their apple pie, and they always know your dietary restrictions without being told.

Service golems in various sizes and shapes, making sure their magic users aren’t crowded, get medical attention, go where they need to, etc.They don’t get distracted, they can be hollow to hold things like medications, and in rare instances… they seem to develop loving attachment to their users despite not being alive.

Little old landladies who dabble in witchcraft brewing homeopathic remedies for people in their apartment complex.

Street magic is an amazing concept.

(Source: cpk4709, via theladyragnell)

A Tale of Woe: Or, Why Not to Buy an Oreck Vacuum

Short answer:  they suck.  And not in the good way.

I bought an Oreck 8 years ago; it had a 21-year warranty (??) and came with one free maintenance visit per year for the life of the warranty.  It was over $600.

It was lightweight and worked fine for the first couple of years.  Then it started losing suction, the handle kept breaking, etc., etc.  Every time I brought it in for its yearly service, all of the things that were wrong with it weren’t covered under the service or the warranty.  It started costing me about $40 per year to fix.

Yes, I should have given up years ago.  I am dumb.  I did not.

In our last house, we had carpet upstairs, but hardwood downstairs with a couple of area rugs.  Nothing complicated or fancy.  This house has all hardwood with one carpeted room - that’s it.  The stupid thing broke again this weekend (side note:  I have two dogs so I vacuum at least once a week, otherwise the hairballs develop their own culture and mutiny).  It became extremely hard to push or pull and caused me a fair amount of pain by aggravating my carpal tunnel (second side note:  it doesn’t take much to aggravate my carpal tunnel.  It’s like a not-very-dormant volcano.)

I wept. Quite literally.  

This was because The Sweethome, where I go for all of my appliance recommendations, told me that the best vacuum in the entire world was the Miele Twist, which retails for $460, a sum that, needless to say, I do not possess.

More weeping.

But!  All was not lost!  The Sweethome had a second recommendation for “Cheap Vacuums” which told me the following:  (1) most vacuums (even the Miele) last about 7 years, (2) if you don’t have a lot of carpet, you can get away with a cheaper vacuum, and (3) they recommended the Shark Navigator Lift-Away, for $160, which they said had many of the same features and would probably last about as long (and even if it didn’t, was 1/3 of the price).  Best Buy (at which I possess a line of credit that enables me to buy things over time) stocked it, and matched Amazon’s price.  

I have to say, I almost had an orgasm over the price matching.  Not going to lie.  

And thus, I have learned that I am officially An Old, as the last time I got this excited was several weeks ago, when I bought my Water Pik.



parents when they can’t get a hold of you: “i called TWICE AND YOU DIDN’T PICK UP”

me when i can’t get a hold of my parents: “I BROKE MY LEG. I CALLED UR CELL 11 TIMES, UR WORK PHONE 7 TIMES, AND SENT YOU 23 TEXTS, AND NO RESPONSE”

my parents: “wow sorry i was busy”

this never changes no matter how old you are