Magic Eraser

* * * * * All my memories GONE with just one swipe!!! July 29, 2013

By Carrie Dee

Size Name: 8-Count Box

I'm something of a serial mover--don't like to stay in any one place too long. Whenever I decide to head to a new city (or country--I'd go to a new planet if I could), the first thing I do is go to the store and buy a box of Magic Erasers. These things really are unbelievable, and so easy to use. You just wet it in the sink, squeeze out the extra water, and scrub away. 

Scummy shower walls? Gone like magic. Perpetually water-streaked kitchen sink? Gone like magic. Scuffed floors from failed attempts to teach yourself how to tap dance? Gone like magic. Headboard-banged wall after you and that shithead from Dairy Queen went at it for a few weeks and then he never called you back? Gone like magic. Stained countertop from that time you brought the neighbor kids over to dye Easter eggs without their mother's permission and when she caught you the baby was so scared she knocked over her cup? Gone like magic. Ashy cabinet bottoms after carelessly burning photographs of your father and his significantly younger third wife? Gone like magic. 

It all disappears so beautifully. I don't know how they do it. Anyway, Magic Erasers are perfect for anyone moving on in life. You can't take the past with you, and you certainly don't want the new tenants to see all those filthy remnants of your life. Mr. Clean's the best magician for the job.

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Tish & Leo (a vignette)

It was their dream house. Both of them had each grown up with fantasies of living in a house with secret passages and hidden doors, with buried treasure and dumbwaiters and sliding panels and trapdoors.

Tish and Leo found that dream home exactly one month after Leo surprised Tish with an antique engagement ring baked into a chocolate souffle. On weekends, the two spent their afternoons driving around town on old back roads, admiring the old brick homes and older trees that lined the sidewalks. Tish liked to make up stories about the families that lived in the houses, populating the buildings with flappers and ghosts and suppressed housewives and seances and mysteries and murders. Leo filled them with moonshiners and gangsters, with detectives, with elegant dinner parties gone terribly, satisfyingly wrong.

On one Sunday afternoon in September, the air still a little heavy with the last bit of summer haze, they found it.  Leo saw the For Sale sign first. He yanked the car out of the lane and pulled up at the house's curb. Tish leapt out as soon as the car came to a halt. She stood in the yard with her hand outstretched and waiting for Leo's.

Three stories tall, swaddled in the shade of a dozen tall oaks, their house's doors and windows winked from beneath the branches like conspiratorial eyes. Tish stared at it and knew in her bones that it was meant to be theirs. She breathed in and felt the house breathing with her, felt its hollow spaces, felt the deep and secret rooms that matched the deep and secret places in her heart.

Leo locked the car and took hold of Tish's hand. He could feel her tension. She was trembling, resonating like a plucked string. Her face was suffused with something serene and heartbroken. She looked the way she sometimes did when Leo woke in the middle of the night, finding her sitting up in bed, staring at nothing, eyes open but still asleep. Leo thought he loved Tish best at moments like this, when she was far away and strange, warm and close but somehow impossibly remote, like the moon.

He reached out and gently brushed at her hair. She blinked and sighed. "We're home," she said, squeezing Leo's hand.

Three and a half weeks after that day, they were. The house stretched their budget, but they funneled money away from the big lavish wedding Tish's parents wanted her to have, and got married in the courthouse instead.

Every closet had a trapdoor that led to the attic, which was cobwebby and bright, lit by skylights and a big stained glass window. There wasn't a dumbwaiter, but there was an old laundry chute with little brass doors opening onto each floor. In the kitchen, the pantry door was molded right into the wall, no edging, with a piece of wainscoting going right across the middle of it.

Leo found the crawlspace. He edged between the brick exterior and the interior plaster walls, moving between the studs, catching glimpses of light through old picture frame nail holes.  Tish nearly had a heart attack when a disembodied knock sounded from inside the bedroom walls. She chased Leo through the house, smacking the walls, following his self-satisfied boyish cackles from room to room. When he emerged covered in dust and drywall and spiders, Tish demanded to be shown the entrance.

They spent the rest of the evening haunting each other.

Secrets Secrets are No Fun

Georgie lived for secrets. She spent hours lying in wait, or standing, or crouching, in wait just to hear them. Mastering the quirks of the house, learning which stairs creaked and which walls were the thinnest. The servants never noticing a slip of skirt visible under the curtains, too eager to scandalize each other with tales of the night before. Her father too, was unaware, having drunk too much scotch with her uncle to notice that certain important papers were missing from his study. Her mother would often find her, edges blurred by dust, in the bottom of a wardrobe or packed neatly under a desk.

The mother thought it was harmless, Georgie was just a little girl whose hero was Sherlock Holmes. She couldn't see the menace in the blonde curls, looping there like a snake ready to pounce.

Georgie knew the power of secrets, knew that once you had them, the world became easier. As she grew up, she held her vast library of unknown information behind her eyes, and no one could see it lurking there, threatening to get out.

She saved them until her mother became insufferable, he father threatened her with useless marriages, the servants stopped fawning over the once adorable child. One sweltering afternoon, when rain hovered but never fell, she unleashed them like a hurricane, all together, one secret building upon the strength of the last, wind whipping them into an unstoppable storm of pain and guilt.

Georgie did not marry. She went to live with her brazen young aunt in Paris, in a house that was filled with it's own set of locked doors and shadowy corners. They didn't matter of course. She would learn their tricks, open them up, store their secrets in her ever shimmering eyes, her luminous hair. Waiting.

A Royal Advert

Her Royal Highness Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge seeks a full-time Lady-in-Waiting.

Candidates must possess a well-rounded education, impeccable manners, and the wherewithal to know when their opinion is truly needed. A strong sense of style is preferred, though an applicant's beauty should not exceed that of the Princess.

Must be unmarried. Must be comfortable keeping state secrets. Major duties will include running errands for and with Her Highness, entertaining Her Highness between engagements, consistently maintaining a calm and generally pleasant appearance and attitude, and otherwise assisting the Princess in any way she desires.

Experience with children is an absolute necessity. Because Her Highness must return to her royal duties almost immediately upon giving birth, care of the Royal Family's newest member will frequently fall to the Lady-in-Waiting.

As is only fitting, candidates must be citizens of the United Kingdom (ideally England). Ladies of noble blood preferred, but considering that the Princess herself was once a commoner, this trait is not strictly necessary.

Interested parties will please apply at http://www.dukeandduchessofcambridge.org/

The Princess and the Wind

Once upon a time, in a kingdom by the sea, there lived a princess.

The princess was silly and a little vain, as princesses tend to be. They can't help it; they're raised in the midst of beauty, knowing they are lovely, knowing they are adored. In spite of her silliness and her vanity, the princess was nonetheless gentle and sweet, and everyone loved her dearly.

Even the wind that blew in from the sea was in love with the princess. It tried to show her its love, playing in her auburn curls and plucking at the embroidered sleeves of her gowns. It brought the smell of spices from distant lands to the castle. It filled the sails of the princess's royal schooner and teased the water into waves which the dolphins couldn't resist. It lifted the princess's bright paper kites high into the sky. It waved the kingdom's banners as she rode by during the royal processions.

But for all the wind's effort, the princess didn't notice. She was too busy falling in love with a handsome prince from the neighboring kingdom. The prince was also silly and vain, but he liked the way the princess looked at him, so he treated her pleasantly enough. It was not long before they were betrothed.

The kingdoms set about planning for the wedding. As buntings and streamers began to appear on buildings, the prince and princess could be seen wandering together.

One day, the princess walked hand in hand with the prince through the royal gardens. Her hair tumbled and twirled around her, tickling her nose until she sneezed and giggled. The prince frowned and pulled her back inside. He told her lady-in-waiting to start braiding the princess's hair into a tighter, more demure style, as was fitting for a noblewoman.

One day, the princess opened the windows to the palace banquet hall, savoring the exotic spices on the ocean air, but the prince complained that it was putting him off his roast boar. The princess shut the windows, and they finished their meal in silence.

One day, the princess took the prince sailing, but he turned green and hid in the galley until they reached shore. After that, they no longer went sailing. The royal schooner listed sideways in the harbor, the colorful banners trailing into the sea, slack and heavy with salt.

One day, the princess took the prince to the highest tower of the castle to fly kites. The little colorful scraps leapt into the sky, dancing like birds. The prince's eyes took on a steely glint. He let his kite climb higher and higher, daring the princess to beat his height. Her smile slipped a little, but being silly and vain, she let out a bit more string until her kite was higher than his. The game continued until the kites were nothing but specks against the blue of the sky. Suddenly, the last bit of string escaped from the princess's fingers and dashed away. The prince grinned triumphantly, laughing at the look of shock on the princess's face. He let go of his string and walked away, leaving the princess to watch her beloved kite drift away and vanish forever.

One day, the day of the royal wedding, the princess went to the stables to saddle her horse for the procession, but the prince said it was unbecoming for a princess to ride through the streets. He bought her a gilt carriage. She sat inside, hidden from her people and from the wind.

The wind helplessly rattled the closed shutters of the carriage. It rushed along the thoroughfare, making the banners and buntings twist and snap. It brought clouds rolling in from the sea. It whispered unhappily through the trees and whistled through the castle, looking for a way to save the princess. But all it found was empty rooms.

Sloughing sadly along the ground, kicking up little swirls of leaves and dirt, the wind trailed after the carriage. What else could it do? It was in love with the princess, and always would be.

The carriage swayed to a halt in front of the harbor terrace where the wedding would take place. The princess stepped out, clad in a gown as blue as the sea, her face hidden behind a golden veil. The wind hung back, stirring the colorful dresses and tunics of the wedding guests.

The prince stood looking dapper and bored. The princess walked slowly up the steps of the dais, finally coming to a halt next to the prince. She did not take his disinterestedly proffered hand. She looked so lost and alone that the wind couldn't help itself; it raced up to the princess and brushed tenderly at the tears falling softly down her cheeks.

In that moment, the princess felt the wind's love and knew its kindness. The wind blew the sorrow like dust from her sweet and gentle heart, and she turned to the prince.

"I will not marry you," she told him, pulling away her veil and letting the wind whirl it away. "I thought I loved you because I am sometimes silly, and I thought you loved me because I am sometimes vain." The princess reached up and shook her hair free of its tight, elaborate braids. "But now I know that you are only vain and silly, and that I can be something better." The wind rose joyfully and twined in her tresses.

The princess turned away from the dumbstruck prince, whose mouth was hanging foolishly open. She unhitched her horse from the carriage and mounted up to the cheers of her people. Their dear princess was back.

She rode off to the harbor, where the wind she loved was waiting to fill the sails of the royal ship, ready to take the princess wherever she wanted to go.

The Day the Ice Queen Married the Yeti

On day the Yeti married the Ice Queen,

the wind was warm and the grass was green.

No cruel winds dare muss her hair,

not while the whole of the North was there.

Atop her head, a crown of diamonds glow,

and if she was nervous, it did not show.

With dignity, she approached the aisle,

greeting the crowd with the ghost of a smile,

walking bravely forward towards the towering Yeti,

admitting that her hands were slightly unsteady,

but not from fear, rather anticipation

for she knew this was a celebration.

Many believed she married the beast

to save her kingdom, with wealth increased.

They feared for her life, thought he was a terror,

but the Ice Queen knew that this was an error.

The Yeti was kind, as pure as his fur,

it was he who declared his love for her.

So remember, the Queen has nothing to fear,

for in love, things are not always how they appear.

Excerpt from occultgeology.com's "A Complete Guide to Minerals and Their Mystical Properties" (c)2002 Jana Ravensilver Moonwitch, PhD

Diamonds have long been a source of fascination for man and womynkind. The hardest natural substance our mother planet has brought forth, they have been prized for their beauty, purity, and rarity.

Diamonds currently are valued for jewelry, electronics, and manufacturing.  Since the early 1900s, diamonds have been the stone of choice for traditional engagement rings. They have come to symbolize, for popular culture, true love and everlasting fidelity.

Yet they also have one of the bloodiest histories of any gemstone. The violent struggles for control over diamond mines, the harsh conditions the miners work in, and the thefts, swindling, and murders associated with diamond jewelry have left this stone splashed with the blood of countless innocents.

Many famous diamonds have become so, not just for their fabulous lustre and exceptional size, but also for the rumors of curses they seem to attract.

Perhaps the most infamous of these unlucky gems is the Lednik Diamond, also called Morana's Tear*, which was found in 1949 in the now-abandoned Proklinat Mine of eastern Siberia. It weighed over 100 carats raw, and weighed 52 carats when cut and polished. The loss of weight was due to necessary reductions to capture a gem free from inclusions and faults. It remains, to date, one of the most perfect colorless specimens ever found, exhibiting flawless clarity and mesmerizing brilliance.

Since its first sale in 1950, Morana's Tear has had over a dozen owners. Five of its owners died of illness within a decade of obtaining the diamond; two committed suicide; one was murdered; two were victims of violent accidental deaths (one automobile collision, one drowning); and three suffered financial ruin (possibly due to the outrageous cost of purchasing the diamond).

Rumors of a curse began to spring up around Morana's Tear after it had changed hands twice. These rumors did not diminish collectors' interest in the stone, however.

Whether or not there is, indeed, a curse on this gemstone, may never be ascertained. Certainly it kindles insatiable greed and jealousy in the hearts of those who covet material items and the status they confer.

Ritual or healing properties:
Diamonds do not have any psychic or vibrational properties or powers of their own. Instead, they simply enhance the abilities of the user. For those pure of heart and strong in purpose, diamonds can help strengthen resolve and bring clarity of judgement. But for those who are filled with negative energy, it can be a dangerous crystal, magnifying and encouraging dark impulses. However, when paired with other powerful stones, such as rose quartz or sapphires, a diamond can enhance the properties of those crystals. Some people have reported an increase of psychic ability and sensitivity when scrying with a diamond.

Diamonds are powerful crystals that should be treated with respect and caution. Before performing rituals or casting any spells with diamonds, take time to meditate and center yourself. Calm your mind and let peace fill your heart. Empty yourself of jealousy, anger, and negativity. When properly harnessed, diamonds can grant great strength and intuitive clarity.





*Morana is a Russian folk deity, the agrarian goddess of winter and death. Even today, many Slavic countries still welcome the arrival of spring by burning or "drowning" effigies of Morana.

Failed Screenplay

INT: A MOVIE THEATER.

Scott and Anya sit together, whispering over the previews.

ANYA

Oh my God! This is the trailer for the new Tarantino movie.

SCOTT

Oh, yeah. I heard that he--

ANYA

Shut up.

They sit in silence as they watch the trailer. Anya is riveted to the screen. Scott slurps his oversized soda. 

CUT TO: MOVIE TRAILER

*****

INT: A CUBAN CUSTOMS OFFICE, 1950s - CONTINUOUS

The customs officer looks over Jedediah's documents.

MOVIE ANNOUNCER

He came from nothing...

CUSTOMS OFFICER

Where are you from? We get all sorts from Florida, but I have never heard of this place.

JEDEDIAH RICH

It's a small fishing village.

CUSTOMS OFFICER

You like to fish?

JEDEDIAH RICH

No. I have other interests.

INT: RADIO IN JEDEDIAH'S APARTMENT LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Shot of radio, pan out slowly.

MOVIE ANNOUNCER

But when destiny presents itself...

OLD TIMEY RADIO NEWSCASTER 

All of Cuba's in a tizzy as Hannah Everett,

EXT: THE CALIFORNIA PALMS CASINO, HAVANA - CONTINUOUS

Hannah Everett emerges from a white Rolls Royce. Continue radio voiceover.

OLD TIMEY RADIO NEWSCASTER

the prominent socialite, arrives in Havana. Ms. Everett is the current owner of the notorious Poison Glory,

INT: A SAFE INSIDE THE CALIFORNIA PALMS CASINO - CONTINUOUS

Shot of diamond in the safe, pan out slowly. Continue radio voiceover.

OLD TIMEY RADIO NEWSCASTER

the world's largest diamond. But she may not own it for long--its previous owners have all

EXT: TROPICAL GRAVEYARD - CONTINUOUS

Hannah Everett tosses a flower onto a coffin about to be buried. Continue radio voiceover.

OLD TIMEY RADIO NEWSCASTER

suffered horrible, untimely deaths!

INT: JEDEDIAH'S APARTMENT LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Jedediah sits up straight in a high-backed chair, confident.

MOVIE ANNOUNCER

He'll take everything.

JEDEDIAH RICH

My name's Jedediah Rich, and rich is exactly what I intend to be.

CUT TO: MOVIE THEATER 

*****

INT: MOVIE THEATER - CONTINUOUS

We hear a car exploding on screen. Anya's eyes widen. Scott reaches for her hand but thinks better of it.

CUT TO: MOVIE TRAILER

*****

INT: JEDEDIAH'S APARTMENT LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Jedediah sits in his high-backed chair. Pablo stands in front of him, pacing back and forth occasionally.

PABLO SANCHEZ

You know I'd like to get back at those rich white motherfuckers as much as the next guy, amigo. But how we gonna do it?

JEDEDIAH RICH

The California Palms is just a casino like any other. 

PABLO SANCHEZ

Not so! No other casino has Diego Martinez. He don't let nobody fuck him.

JEDEDIAH RICH

Is that so? Plays hard to get? Well, we'll just have to court him first.

INT: CALIFORNIA PALMS CASINO FLOOR - CONTINUOUS

Diego walks up to Jedediah, who is standing near a blackjack table. They shake hands.

DIEGO MARTINEZ

Welcome to The California Palms, Mister Rich. Would that be the Charleston Riches? The Chicago Riches, perhaps?

JEDEDIAH RICH

Something like that.

INT: JEDEDIAH'S APARTMENT LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Jedediah's conversation with Pablo continues.

JEDEDIAH RICH

But make no mistake...

INT: CALIFORNIA PALMS CASINO BANQUET HALL - CONTINUOUS

Hannah approaches Jedediah. She raises her hand, he kisses it. She is all smiles.

HANNAH EVERETT

Mister Rich! I simply had to make your acquaintance. I swear your name's been whispered on the lips of every man and woman in this damned casino.

JEDEDIAH RICH

Ms. Everett, my name's not worthy to be whispered on lips as beautiful as yours.

HANNAH EVERETT

Oh! Don't be so modest. I'm sure--

JEDEDIAH RICH

Well, not yet, anyway.

INT: JEDEDIAH'S APARTMENT LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Jedediah's conversation with Pablo continues.

JEDEDIAH RICH

I'm walking out of here with that diamond, come hell or high water.

CUT TO: MOVIE THEATER

*****

INT: MOVIE THEATER - CONTINUOUS

We hear a montage of violence--gunshots, stabbings, screams, blood spatter, explosions, etc. Every so often Scott winces at the gore. Anya remains enthralled.

CUT TO: MOVIE TRAILER

*****

INT: CALIFORNIA PALMS CASINO EXECUTIVE OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

Diego sits behind his lavish desk. Jedediah stands before it, hands behind his back.

MOVIE ANNOUNCER

Michael Fassbender is Jedediah Rich...

DIEGO MARTINEZ

You are not so clever as you think, Mister Rich.

JEDEDIAH RICH

Oh, I don't claim to be clever. I'm just here to claim that diamond. It's my name. It's my fate. 

DIEGO MARTINEZ

There's no such thing as fate. 

Jedediah smirks

JEDEDIAH RICH

Well I guess you and me'll just have to agree to disagree.

INT: BACKSIDE OF BAR IN CALIFORNIA PALMS CASINO - CONTINUOUS

Jedediah and Pablo are ducked down behind the counter to avoid rapid, relentless gunfire.

MOVIE ANNOUNCER

...in Quentin Tarantino's...

JEDEDIAH RICH

Pablo, will you despise me?

PABLO SANCHEZ

What the fuck, man?!

JEDEDIAH RICH

When I fulfill my destiny, when I take that diamond, will I just be another rich white motherfucker to you?

PABLO SANCHEZ

No. You'll be my rich white motherfucker.

CUT TO BLACK SCREEN WITH TITLE 

MOVIE ANNOUNCER

Poison Glory. Coming to theaters this Christmas.

CUT TO MOVIE THEATER

*****

INT: MOVIE THEATER - CONTINUOUS

Trailer ends. As the next preview starts, Scott and Anya resume their conversation.

SCOTT

Wow. That looks--

ANYA

Amazing!

SCOTT

Sure. God, your hair smells so good.

ANYA

What?

SCOTT

Do you ever feel like your life is a movie?

ANYA

What was all that about my hair again?

SCOTT

Doesn't matter. Answer the question.

Anya sighs, starts scrolling on her phone.

ANYA

I don't know. Sometimes I narrate what I'm doing in my head I guess.

SCOTT

No, that's not what I mean--although I do that, too. Like, do you ever feel like your life is scripted, though?

ANYA

Scripted by you?

SCOTT

No, by somebody infinitely better. By somebody Oscar-worthy. Don't you ever feel like things just fit together so perfectly that somebody must have planned it all out?

ANYA

Nothing's perfect. It's all messy.

SCOTT

Like maybe there are cosmic cameras filming your every move, and when you die you get to see it all again.

ANYA

I don't believe in fate.

Scott finally takes her hand.

SCOTT

And you've never wanted to?

Anya pulls her hand away.

ANYA

Not particularly.

Scott twists away from her and shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

ANYA

You're just too sentimental, Scott.

Scott says nothing, continues eating popcorn.

ANYA

I guess I just prefer all my sentiment to stay on the silver screen. I'm a practical person. To me, sentiment in real life just seems...I don't know. Gaudy, I guess. Like plastic columns painted to look like marble. In some place totally inappropriate and unnecessary, like a shopping mall.

SCOTT

You're not practical. You're heartless.

ANYA

Whatever. I'm going to go. I've seen this one before, anyway.

She stands.

ANYA

You know what? Fuck you. Good luck finding a leading lady.

A Conversation Between Friends

"Oh my god! Did you see that guy just punch a girl!?"

"What? No."

"Yes! Straight up punched her in the face!"

"I don't believe you. Nobody punches people in the face. You've been watching too many movies"

"No, I haven't"

"Yes, you have. You stay up all night watching whatever's on cable, not even the good stuff. Just some B-grade, shitty remake of a shitty Katherine Heigel movie. It's starting to affect your brain."

"No, it isn't."

"Bullshit. Ever since-"

"Don't."

"Fine, but ever since then, all you do is watch movies and pretend your life is full of movie-worthy events. It's not. It's just a normal, crappy life like everybody else's. So that thing that we can't talk about happened. Get over it. Stop telling me a dude just punched a girl. Shut up and watch the damn band."

"I hate you sometimes."

"I know. I sometimes hate you too."