Too bad I don't have any Spell-o-tape

A part of me broke this Valentine's Day. No, it was not my heart, it was my wand. My wand. In the irony of all ironies, it snapped in my canvas bag 2 days after I composed a post enumerating its many glorious qualities. I am distraught. Words cannot describe the immense sadness that has enveloped my very being; the loss of my wand has struck me to the core. Just look at these two pathetic little pieces of wood, no longer bound by the magic that formerly held them together:



See that shocked face, those eyes brimming with tears? That was only after I had calmed down considerably and decided that it would make for a pretty good entry. Last night my dreams were filled with images of Mr. Ollivander going through box after box of new wands, trying to find a new one for me. Then I woke up and remembered I had some superglue. Then it broke again. One thing that has made me mildly less depressed about that fact: when I describe what happens to my friends and they are overcome witha somber expression and say, "Oh my God, are you okay?!" It's good to have people around who know you that well.

Time for a trip to the Three Broomsticks to drown my sorrows in Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.....